The Docklands

Shairi decided to head for the docklands. If she was to get anywhere in the world, she’d need money, and there were few richer places than Imian’s docks.

Strange scents drifted through the dock district – exotic spices and foreign foods, almost drowned out by the smell of the salty sea wind – and the stink of sewage from the harbour and gutters.

Sailors were everywhere, coming off the ships with their pockets full of pay, looking for fun. Merchants drifted between warehouses and markets, richly dressed in ostentatious displays of wealth. And then there were the whores, hundreds of them. Brothels and taverns were everywhere, ready to service the returning sailors. And women gathered on street corners, too, their brightly coloured dresses making them seem like flocks of exotic birds. Their scanty clothing and the propositions they shouted to passers-by made their purpose clear.

Shairi found the brothels interesting. Her mother had been a whore, but a simple country one. The air of sophisticated decadence that hung over the higher class brothels excited her.

But there were other opportunities here. According to the books she had read, there were almost as many thieves in the docklands as there were whores. They were divided into about a dozen treacherous, competing guilds, which rose and fell as they struggled for power and territory. They had made sure that the city watch was hopelessly corrupt and easily bribed to look the other way, so the king had to call in the army when they truly got out of hand.

Shairi was a decently skilled thief. Combined with her magical gifts and her manipulative skills, she could be very useful to one of the thief guilds – or rather, they could be very useful to her.