The Guild of the Round Table
A Seaside Port,, just South of the major city of Dale, is a dark contrast to the sparkling ocean and ships that it hosts. It is a dark, seedy and corrupt place, a place of filth and cold, of poverty and diseases of both body and soul. The nobles and government feel distant in the sprawling cobblestone streets, while the gangs and monstrous insurgents feel all too close.
Talk of murderers walk the streets like unwanted relatives. Always present, and always disturbing.
The town guard try to stave off the anarchy, and the Fighters Guild, lead by old Scareye, is more occupied on foreign deals to spend much expense other than light training to the flailing and defensive police. It is home to every urban pleasure and every false promise.
The gang known as the Bareknuckles, dominate among the groups of light thugs that wander the streets. Monsters are rumored to lurk the sewers, thieves and nightmarish demons that slip through the sewers, and the mages and magicians do nearly anything in their quests for dark knowledge, or so the tavern rats will say.
Maybe this town can brighten, but the obstacles may as well be mountains not mole hills. Most hope that they can hop onto a boat and skip away to cleaner shores.
The Halflings that lurk amongst the streets are often considered criminals, and rightly so, as most of good intent left on Caravans and travelling merchants or ship hands than stay in these grim streets.