The Saga of Sweetangel – Part 11

Honestly almost done now!

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Poulter would brook no more softness,

So he set to the matter of finding,

Striking out through the foggy city.

Their only clue was Cross Alley,

An ill reputed street in the old town,

A dangerous place, far from pretty.

 

The old town was all built on mines,

The source of Saltpetre’s electrum shells,

Under land that once was under sea.

Not all of the mines were legal,

Hidden earthworks under houses and streets,

Unsafe tunnels littered with debris.

 

Not many Dirtlings would work them,

So it was easier just to use slaves,

Which are easily snatched from the streets.

Nobody misses the lost ones,

Nobody cares if the tunnels collapse,

And the business of business repeats.

 

Cross Alley looked empty of life,

But for a lone man smoking a cigar,

So Poulter and Longthorn followed him.

Quietly they stepped through shadows,

Until the man entered an old warehouse,

Where he met with a stranger most grim.

 
[sociable]