Lagas (LAH-guss)
The residential area outside the base of the Spire of Fire is the red light district of the Central Spire. Any appetite can be satiated in Lagas, whether it be by brothels, gambling halls, opium dens, fight clubs, or establishments that cater to more off-the-beaten-path desires.
The glorious debauchery of the Fire Spire is nowhere to be found here within its seedy underbelly - if the Spire is lovemaking on a bed of silks and furs, Lagas is fucking in an alley. Poorly lit and lacking many basic infrastructures, garbage lines the streets beneath rusted, broken-down vehicles, while sewage has been known to clog the gutters and drains. Blaring music assaults the ears and garish flickering signs punctuate the perpetual twilight with their advertisements of piercings, peep shows, and branded alcoholic beverages.
Residents of this district wear as few clothes as possible, whether or not they engage in sex work, for the ward surrounds the massive Incandescent Hearth. Indoors or out, there is no escaping its heat, and most who live here exist in a constant state of sweatiness and lethargy,
Important Locations:
Swallowtail Tattoos
A trio of expert artists run this shop, providing both excellent permanent bodyart and a cover for the safehouse they run for the Winged Eyes above it. They receive medical supplies for the district along with their ink and needle deliveries, ferry news between those trapped in the Fire Spire and those left behind outside, and generally provide services to the community that Their Grace neglects as best they can.
The Lusty Lady
This well-reputed establishment consists of two three-story buildings connected by a skyway between the third floors. In both, the lowest floor is dedicated to bar service, but in one, there is a strict no-advances policy, whereas the other is tailored to individuals looking to connect more intimately. Above the latter is a comfortable lounge on the second floor, where professional companions and potential clientele can get to know each other better, surounded by windowed alcoves featuring sensual shows and scantily-clad performers with trays of drinks flitting through the dim light. Above that, on the third floor, there are numerous bedrooms outfitted to numerous tastes in pleasure, many of them constantly occupied. By contrast, above the platonic bar is a hall of cards and a smoking lounge, and staff quarters above that, where courtesans can easily retire to their rooms via the skyway after completing their transactions. The entire building's decor is a loving attempt at luxury, which, though rather shabby, adds to rather than diminishes its character and appeal.
The Poisoner
Only a narrow break in the wall reveals the location of this mysterious individual's place of business, and only those who squeeze through and follow the abandoned maintenance path to the dented metal control shed and down the trap door inside will finally reach what they seek. Despite the name, this individual is not a purveyor of (solely) fatal substances. They specialize in the production of personalized concoctions, which can range from a drug made specifically for your constitution to achieve the exact high you want; to a potion of forgetting that will wipe the memories of your choosing and nothing else; to, yes, an undetectable powder that will quickly dissolve in the drink of your enemy and aggravate that unfortunate heart condition of theirs.
The Loose Teeth
This fight club sits among the discarded shards of oversized junk metal on the outside edge of the district, nestled inside an abandoned cargo ship half-buried in rubble. Inside, its mistress Dracaena presides on a dark throne above the action, her domain divided into distinct sections with different rules. In the center, the fighting ring; to its side on her left, the members section, and to its side on her right, the betting section. To fight you must be a member, and to be a member, you must fight. Anyone else is restricted to the betting areas, where no members may enter. Instead, this section is tight like sardines with bookies, gamblers, and spectators.
The glorious debauchery of the Fire Spire is nowhere to be found here within its seedy underbelly - if the Spire is lovemaking on a bed of silks and furs, Lagas is fucking in an alley. Poorly lit and lacking many basic infrastructures, garbage lines the streets beneath rusted, broken-down vehicles, while sewage has been known to clog the gutters and drains. Blaring music assaults the ears and garish flickering signs punctuate the perpetual twilight with their advertisements of piercings, peep shows, and branded alcoholic beverages.
Residents of this district wear as few clothes as possible, whether or not they engage in sex work, for the ward surrounds the massive Incandescent Hearth. Indoors or out, there is no escaping its heat, and most who live here exist in a constant state of sweatiness and lethargy,
Important Locations:
Swallowtail Tattoos
A trio of expert artists run this shop, providing both excellent permanent bodyart and a cover for the safehouse they run for the Winged Eyes above it. They receive medical supplies for the district along with their ink and needle deliveries, ferry news between those trapped in the Fire Spire and those left behind outside, and generally provide services to the community that Their Grace neglects as best they can.
The Lusty Lady
This well-reputed establishment consists of two three-story buildings connected by a skyway between the third floors. In both, the lowest floor is dedicated to bar service, but in one, there is a strict no-advances policy, whereas the other is tailored to individuals looking to connect more intimately. Above the latter is a comfortable lounge on the second floor, where professional companions and potential clientele can get to know each other better, surounded by windowed alcoves featuring sensual shows and scantily-clad performers with trays of drinks flitting through the dim light. Above that, on the third floor, there are numerous bedrooms outfitted to numerous tastes in pleasure, many of them constantly occupied. By contrast, above the platonic bar is a hall of cards and a smoking lounge, and staff quarters above that, where courtesans can easily retire to their rooms via the skyway after completing their transactions. The entire building's decor is a loving attempt at luxury, which, though rather shabby, adds to rather than diminishes its character and appeal.
The Poisoner
Only a narrow break in the wall reveals the location of this mysterious individual's place of business, and only those who squeeze through and follow the abandoned maintenance path to the dented metal control shed and down the trap door inside will finally reach what they seek. Despite the name, this individual is not a purveyor of (solely) fatal substances. They specialize in the production of personalized concoctions, which can range from a drug made specifically for your constitution to achieve the exact high you want; to a potion of forgetting that will wipe the memories of your choosing and nothing else; to, yes, an undetectable powder that will quickly dissolve in the drink of your enemy and aggravate that unfortunate heart condition of theirs.
The Loose Teeth
This fight club sits among the discarded shards of oversized junk metal on the outside edge of the district, nestled inside an abandoned cargo ship half-buried in rubble. Inside, its mistress Dracaena presides on a dark throne above the action, her domain divided into distinct sections with different rules. In the center, the fighting ring; to its side on her left, the members section, and to its side on her right, the betting section. To fight you must be a member, and to be a member, you must fight. Anyone else is restricted to the betting areas, where no members may enter. Instead, this section is tight like sardines with bookies, gamblers, and spectators.
Type
Neighbourhood
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