It is no secret that the city-state of Zaun is one in which industry and mercantilism have run amok, even to the point of damaging its surrounding environment. Even before reaching the city, the noxious fumes from multiple factories and power plants could be seen billowing up maliciously into the corrupted skyline. The "Zaun Gray" is ever present, like a sinister spirit looking over the urban setting as if planning to do evil unto its residents.

The state of the architecture of the buildings residing within are a mixture of chemically corroded and reinforced with steel. Despite its outward appearance, however, the streets of Zaun are a constant hive of activity. Shopkeepers with a variety of eccentric items can be found at every corner of the city, with the dark and seedy alleys overflowing with ambitious individuals willing to give their all for a profit. Residential areas are scattered about the layout of the city, with a ridiculous number of power plants, factories, and even some rather shady office buildings abound.

Notable points of interest:

Cassandra's Place...... Owned and operated by Cassandra Irene, acts as a shop for exotic martial weapons and a training center for learning fighting styles

Magnifique Draven........Owned and operated by the Glorious Executioner Draven, a rather remarkable restaurant that serves a wide range of cuisines

The Herald's Laboratory......Owned and operated by the Machine Herald Viktor, serves as a place where hextech augmentations and gadgets can be acquired for cheap or free

Veigar's Spell Tome and Enchanting Store.....Owned and operated by the Tiny Master of Evil Veigar, serves as a place to obtain services Exactly As Said On the Tin

Warwick's Bastion Home......The residence of the Blood Hunter Warwick, one can come to him and enlist his service to acquisition certain subjects

{{I'll update this as people point them out to me}}

Trade District - Concealed Black Market

Aco-VI was one of the many evolved beings in the city of Zaun, where the Machine Herald resided. Although the physical and mechanical dominance were the greatest perks, he still concealed himself under normal clothing with a mask, yet the garbs appeared to be of a mercenary type which looked like the opposite of his former Ionian garb. It was not known, the fate of the suit, but it was presumed to have been placed under the security of the Herald's laboratory, where the Warrior-Acolyte would return to whenever he wanted to be his memories... memories he cannot return to.

He was here to find and buy certain objects that would return his memories... such as an Ionian-forged katana.


((I will be running a shop as my alter Dynamic self later.))

{{ Thanks, I appreciate the bump. }}

((Hey! I tried this before! It bombed ))

http://summoners.shurelia.com/profiles/1098
((Shoot, I deleted Claudia's profile...))


Cassandra's Place referred to two places- her residence in the middle city, in an apartment block shared with her father's medical employees at Mundo Medical. That place, nobody goes bothers to go to. It may have been the living space of mostly rank-and-file staff and employees, but it was under Mundo's Corporation, and thus was unlikely to be bothered. The other Cassandra's Place is the one people go to regularly, In the Under City's Trade District. This District is where the most questionable and varied items can be obtained on the unregulated and patrolled streets- and Cassandra offers services as trade.

Cassandra's Place


In the case of Cassandra's Place, it was a respectfully small warehouse (small as warehouses come in Zaun anyway, over 200 square meters). Its interior was an open space mostly filled with improvised training equipment and a few decorations of martial nature from around Valoran.

The 'lobby' of Cassandra's Place displayed goods for sale to supplement the semi-retired mercenary's income, a red-robed lobotomized cyborg running the shop. The goods on sale? Martial weapons. Swords, spears, maces and other exotic weapons from all across the continent, the wares of less popular smiths and craftsmen too unknown or obscure to have regular clients. Each cultural source had its own shelf, the Ionian weapons on a fairly authentic teakwood display- wakizashi, katanas, and the two-handed Dachis.

Inside the warehouse was where the action was happening- a most unusual place indeed, considering Cassandra was teaching fighting. No formal martial styles, no katas, no uniforms- it was a mixed, cross-cultural fitness and fighting school. She picked the best basic moves from each. She took Demacian boxing, Noxian and Rakkor grappling, Ionian jutsus, and taught a brutally efficient style for Zaunite Security Officers- this was her main source of income.

She also taught lower city kids and teens for free- not only did the underprivileged children stay off the streets, anybody who dared to attack the place would summon the retribution of those childrens' parents. Said parents were either former gangers, or among the security officers being trained. The presence of children nonetheless, gave the gym a friendly atmosphere, as families happily socialized after training. In the corner of the training area was Cassandra's secure office, where her weapons from her active time were kept.

Tonight though, the gym area was closed, only the shop in front run by Dietrich open. Cassandra and Claudia weren't there- they were in an Upper City Spa Resort, the Zaunite Sky Garden, treating themselves to a well-deserved beauty regimen. Zaun may have a voracious pollution problem in the city, but in select, environmentally controlled domes, those with the money can afford to visit paradise temporarily in the Spires- the very opulent and popular Upper City. Here, the rich and the famous play and interact, very detached from the troubles of the city.

According to the note that a passerby would read, they would be returning within the hour.

For the citizens of Zaun was common see strange things, but the presence of Ebonmaw always disturbed the Shopkeepers.

The dragon go to a butchery

"HUMAN, GIVE ME A BIG PIECE OF RED MEAT"

Yes sure but you must pay... MONEY, says the butcher

"Grrrrrrrrrrr, whatever, i'm not hungry... for now"

(Dafuq Vikky?)

{{What, Mundo? }}

{{ : / }}

Through the streets of the Under City of Zaun strolled a bald man with a rather strange contraption set upon his lower jaw. He was garbed in what appeared to be tattered rags, soiled by the dirt and grime littered about the streets. What could be seen of his arms and legs were covered in bandages, which also were sullied by garbage.

This man was Asimov, the Chief Acolyte of the Machine Herald himself, which was to say, he was the self-appointed right hand of the brilliant Viktor. Although he highly respected and even revered the genius techmaturgist, he didn't actually live in The Herald's Laboratory and had his own affairs to be concerned about.

And it was on this fine Zaun day that he was walking along, steering clear of the dark alleys. The Bloodhunter would no doubt be on the prowl, and the last thing he wanted was to come face to face with the mentor of the man whom would have been his mentor. There was a great deal on this formerly aspiring chemist's mind, and he needed to sort out his life. A certain purple madman had gotten under his skin, had even mocked him after he'd shared his past of disability with the biologist. The words still ran through his head:

"Satisfaction, bad thing for inventor or chemist or scientist, makes you not want to make bigger better things, no wonder you fail as Singed assistant thingy."

"And miscalculation caused you to fail because you bad at stuff."

The augmented acolyte let out a dejected sigh, sagging his shoulders rather lethargically. He knew there was truth to Dr. Mundo's words. He was eternally grateful to the Herald for giving him a voice again, and he was more than satisfied with being able to speak once again. But what the Doctor had said....About satisfaction being the bane of inventors and chemists alike....There was just something about that that made his skin crawl.

"Should I truly be satisfied with what the Herald has done for me? Am I truly such a failure, that I am unable to forge ahead? I pursued a career as a chemist, to be like Singed, but I became a coward after losing my voice..." He muttered absent mindedly to himself as he moved along, gradually paying less mind to his surroundings...

{{ What? }}