The rock wall trembled and began to sway, then all at once it burst into fragments of stone and dust as it crumbled all at once.

“Brother sharp tooth, we will avenge you!” yelled a young yet familiar voice, followed by several shadows bursting through the shroud.

A dozen scrawny but armed dark tan figures appeared, led the mischievous lad and a large well-rounded man.

“Damn snakes how da- “began to boy in a sorrowful tone but his words, and the groups movements, were stopped short by the scene in front of them.

A man with slightly ripped clothes decorated with splotches of blood, sitting upon a throne of bodies sporting an annoyed expression. Facing directly towards the wall, he locked eyes with the group and a wave of pressure rolled off him like a thick musk.

“Welcome blood brother.”

The venom was not lost on the boy who took a step back. His eyes lit up visibly while he ambled forth, holding out a leather coin pouch.

“Hahaha, good work! I knew you had it covered so I brought a clean-up crew!” while speaking he awkwardly stepped around a body on the floor and placed the pouch in Nur’s hand.

Opening the pouch, a few bronze coins fell out. Nur’s expression did not ease up, eliciting nervous laughter from the boy who shook his sleeve several times. Out came several more pouches, one at a time as he measured Nur’s expression carefully.

With the last of the coins added to his own personal stockpile, Nur’s expression eased up and with a smile he patted the boy’s shoulder in thanks.

The pressure that was holding everyone in place broke, allowing the men to breath and their survival instincts to stop flaring. The rotund man who, like the others, had been frozen in fear gathered the courage to walk up to the foot of the throne.

Cuffing the boy on the head and dragging him behind his own back, the man cleared his throat and spoke.

“Little stone means no harm, sir. He went straight to us and spoke about how one of us was in danger and needed help.”

While he spoke the other men who had come fell in line behind the speaker, their faces grim and muscles tense.

Getting nothing but silence, the man wiped some of his sweat away and tried once again.

“It’s not like he had any choice. The walls in our sanctuary here are managed by the leader and only those marked beforehand can traverse them. If he had just destroyed it, many could be in jeopardy!”

“What do you mean, us?” asked Nur simply.

Feeling a lifeline in the negotiation, the man smiled unconsciously and said, “Brothers in blood, of course. I don’t know how it is on the frontier but here we who are descended from the sands are a tight knit community here. If you have us, we will welcome you with open arms.”

Satisfied, Nur nodded and stepped down from his seat. Not caring where he stepped, faint groans rang out when he walked upon the fallen thugs faces.

The rotund man gave an order to his posse, and they quickly began examining the ‘corpses’ and picking them up. While those unoccupied took their makeshift weapons and stormed off the way Nur had originally come, with fierce expressions and heavy steps.

Jingling his newfound wealth, Nur turned to leave but was stopped dead in his tracks when a whispered conversation floated into his ears.

“It’s fine Erisin, we will make back the money with the recapture of this street from the snakes. It will just take time. I have some spare money stashed away; it should be enough to feed the children, hopefully.”

Turning around, Nur stomped towards the two whispering figures and stopped before them. Pulling out his coin pouch, he leaned down and met the boy eye to eye.

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“Erisin, this money, what is it for. Explain, no lies.”

Hearing the commanding tone, the boy named Erisin explained quickly.

“My job is to, ah, liberate funds to feed the children I help take care of. Orphans, sir.”

Ruminating for but a moment, Nur threw his whole coin pouch to Erisin. Striding past and towards the crumbled wall, the two were shocked out of their stupor after but a moment.

“You said I could make money here. A promise should be kept.”

Erisin laughed nervously and scurried in front of Nur.

“Of course, sir, a promise. Leader will have something for you, for sure!”

Waving to the rotund man, Erisin grabbed Nur’s hand and led him forward through the clearing and towards an array of dilapidated buildings.

----------------------------------------

In an old stone building that smelled of sewage of rot, sat a towering old man with wrinkled skin and a massive bushy beard tied and twisted with wooden rings.

Sitting opposite him was Nur, meeting the man’s roaming gaze with ease. His appraising eye carefully picked out detail after detail, remaining a bit longer on the sheathed blade that was at Nur’s side.

“I oversee sewage for the west side. Sanctioned by the Office of Infrastructure, though they prefer me out of sight and mind. Call me Stone.”

He then held out his hand towards Nur, waiting expectantly.

“Nur, freedman from the southwest frontier.”

The two shook hands, a tingle of essence mingling between the two’s hands. Stone’s gaze hardened for a fleeting second before returning to neutral.

“You did the boys under me a favor. Returning that street to us will allow for more commerce to come to our quarter, it will allow kids to be fed and our adults who make it out alive of mandatory service to recover faster.”

Nur could feel essence rolling off the man, subtly, but still noticeable enough. It connected him to the entire stone building around, allowing his presence to permeate throughout.

“I heard you want money. I have many jobs that you could do. Sewage to churn, tunnels to clean, or children to take care of. For someone of your talents, however, it would be wasted time. So, I have two offers for you:”

He flexed his hand slightly, causing a pile of rocks in the corner to bend and twist. Moving as if it was alive, the pile snaked its way in between the two and formed into stone plaques with writing on them.

“A man of wealth has been asking around for capable fighters as of recently. He wants someone to fight for him but needs a person with both strength and control. The pay is at least twenty-five silver denarii, or a single golden aureus. More can be negotiated depending on how much weight they pull.”

Stone gestured towards the second plaque, this one much larger than the first.

“The Patrician family, Valeria, has put out a notice for any able-bodied men. They have created yet another of their little charity funds, this time they are researching a new groundbreaking medicine of sorts. For participating and signing complete confidentiality, two aurei.”

Then Stone pointed towards the final and largest of the three.

“The plebian family, Maius, is recruiting all able-bodied fighters for an upcoming gladiatorial show. Age does not matter. Skill does not matter. Status also does not matter. Just by participating you will be given four aureus or if you die you can arrange for your family to receive it.”

Nur looked over each one carefully, reading the job description that was written down for him to view. He reached forward for the largest, his eye not leaving the tidy sum that was promised.

The plaque moved away from his grasp, however. Stone cleared his throat and said,

“Take the following as an old man’s rambling. I am a bit senile these days, being left to my own devices in a dusty and damp building.”

He smiled and added, “or perhaps as thanks for not only returning but giving all your own money to little Erisin.”

Grasping the largest of the offers in his hands, Stone said lightly, “The Maius, a family steeped in blood and sorrow. They profit off the death of those desperate enough to follow them into the depths of depravity. Gambling, gladiatorial fights to the death, alcohol, and even drugs. The more money they offer, the more likely they are asking you to die for them.”

The stone plaque turned to dust in his hands. He then reached for the second largest plaque.

“The Valeria, one of the founding four families and the most publicly adored. They give away their wealth like water, allowing great works to be created in their name that benefits them and the public.”

His tone turned sinister, his features stern as he continued, “They even offer us aid from time to time, offering jobs that pay well and have no downsides. We even get letters from the few who went out and took their offers, explaining clearly how fine everything is and asking for more to join them. But we never see them in person, ever. Just letters and money sent back sometimes, what a strange happening.”

The second of the plaques turned to dust and so he grabbed the third and final. Throwing it over to Nur, he explained, “The one offering the job is from a branch of the Orata, the masters of the bathhouse. Funnily enough I heard that they got in trouble with their family over a dispute, it made quite the rounds amongst us old folk who keep one toe dipped in politics. The young are brash and understand little of the world, but because of this they are still malleable…open to change.”

Stone’s demeanor cooled down, a kind smile appearing as he spoke in a grandfatherly tone, “Just the ramblings of someone with one foot in the grave, no need to take it seriously.”

Looking at the piles of dust on the floor and then back at the money listed for the plaque in his hand, Nur frowned but an idea came to mind.

“I will accept your advice, so long as you do one thing for me.”

Closing his eyes and expanding his senses, he tried isolated the horrific smell of wastewater and identified something far more palatable.

“Feed me”