Silver Street

Silver Street
It was famous throughout the known world. Silver Street, home of bankers and merchant princes, where there was more gold to be found than in the vaults of Obarsha, God of Greed. When great lords drank from golden goblets and even the **** girls wore silken cloaks.
Of course, now that the city had fallen, things were somewhat different. The mercenaries raced down the broad way fare, hooting and shouting, blood and battlelust contorting their faces, eager to work their will on the defenceless city. Shops were broken into, doors wrenched off their hinges. And people were killed Korvin pausing for a moment to catch his breath, heard the smashing of windows, and saw a richly dressed man being flung out by a pair of rough looking Azariki. He screamed, and then fell abruptly silent as his body impacted on the ground.
Fools. They could have held him for ransom.
Time for Korvin to make his mark. He turned and went down the street stopping before a building that hadn’t been broken into yet. A well placed foot kicked open the door, and he pushed inside.
From the looks of the place, it appeared to be a merchants office of some kind, Ledgers sat opened on desks where the clerks had left them. There was a set of scales lying on it’s side. A set of stairs wound it’s way up, and to the rear there was another set headed down.