(( http://leagueoflegends.wikia.com/wiki/Zaun for an overview of everything in Zaun ))

Lower City - Outpost 18

Below the glory of the Zaunite scientist and merchants, a thousands of plebs, common people live their daily lives. Those who can't afford living in the relatively safe houses in the center form slums, a dangerous districts with entirely different rules and worries that more civilized people have. Murder in those parts is not a crime - for noone sane would enforce law there.
In one of these poor districts stands a rough stone building with symbol of Zaun City Guard above the entrance and a rusty number "18". The outpost is led by captain Larisa Dren who is hopelessly trying to do the impossible - bring at least a spark of justice and hope in the dark alleys.

There were two people in the office now - a man, sitting at the main table reading newspapers, and a young girl writing something in case files.
As Larisa entered the office covered in blood, the girl, a bit shocked, ran for the medical kit. But the man's face turned red as Larisa was looking right into his eyes.
"So, you checked the Green Phantom Inn, right?" She was speaking slowly, coughing blood between the words.
"11 dead! 6 members of both gangs, innkeeper and 4 citizens. Magic and chemicals you incompetent fool!" Now, she was almost shouting. Meanwhile, the girl took off the top of captain's uniform and started to clean the long, fresh wound she had on her arm, while channeling a weak spell to lessen the pain.
"You two are going there immediately! Take Maerwin with you and let him analyze the chemical. If needed, quarantine the area. And identify the corpses, maybe they got someone important. But first, go to the training room and get me Sin."
When Sinlaia came to the office, Larisa was sitting in her chair with a bandage on the wounded arm.
"Stay here in case anyone comes. I need to get some sleep. Oh, and when Maerwin comes back, tell him to make me a bottle of anything that works against the gas that was out there."
Tribal girl nodded and sat at the table while Larisa went to sleep - she was living in the building, in one of the unused rooms.

((Felt like doing some interaction between my characters - I'll run the whole outpost. You can only meet Sinlaia now. Or maybe I decide to meet you when you do some shady business in the streets ))

{{ I should have an IC post of Viktor.....Or maybe just keep going with Asimov }}

{{Bump }}

The Machine Herald skulked through the dark alleyways of his native Zaun, clad in a more tattered and concealing cloak with a hood that did well enough to cover his masked head. It hid his features well, enveloping even his shoulder-mounted arm as it bobbed from within the fabric with every step he took. It was a rather uneventful day in the industrialized city-state which rivaled that of Piltover, and Viktor even had enough open space in his schedule to see to some personal affairs.

He made his way directly from his laboratory, which resided on the outskirts of the city where the land met the Guardian's Sea, and had no real destination in mind. He did have some semblance of a prerogative, however, and intended to peruse the various items and weapons vendors to see if there were any wares he could acquire for future projects. He was done with most of his current ones and wanted to get started on the next.

As deceptive as his guise attempted to be, it failed to hide the gentle hum and whir of his inner workings. He knew he would need to develop something that could suppress that sound, eventually, but for now he was resigned to go "antiquing", so to speak.

Omi's Bench - Near downtown

What was suppose to be the last day to be here turned out to last for a week or two for Omi. Now wearing a cloth of azure lined with gold at the ends, fabric of the rich wished to own this. Lucky for the yordle, Endel provided him a home and a store. Rusty walls told stories of how long this beauty survived the days, but with a bit of clean up it was enough to make a few walking by take notice.

What exactly did he sell? Just inventions Omi had worked on during their waiting period of going to the north, and though they were not the best, each and every one of them worked. A small device capable of creating power by a single breath done by blowing at one end. Another was a small cube that transformed into a chair with a single snap of the fingers. Brain dead annoyed the yordle when crafting these ideas to life which is why he locks himself in the back in order to talk out loud without interrupting Endel.

The best part of all of this was...it was extremely cheap for the poor to purchase.

Placing an open sign in the front, "Omi's Bench is ready for a third day." Whispering this as he waited for the first customer.

Near Omi's Bench

Wyerden shambles through the undercity of Zaun with half-closed eyes. Wracking coughs force the chemical arisols of the industrial center from his lungs and a sickly yellow color pervades his normally green skin. In his arms, he cradles a helmet-like device as though it were a child, while he drags veil of vines behind him that issue largely from a severed right arm.

He finally pauses in his toils to take a break against a nearby wall. Looking back, he sees a trail of leaves and vines that have snagged on imperfections of the city's roads. "The city... Of course a vampire would live in a city. But why did it have to be this city?" He feels his body attempt to rebel again, the set roots in the soil and filter the the impurities from the air, "to wither and die..." As he is just about to resign himself to his fate, a shop owner throws a sign out of a nearby humble venue. Wyerden rises as he hears the yordle's whisper, calling tentatively, "Omi?"

Near Omi's Bench

Asimov continued his trek, paying no mind to his surroundings, until he came upon what appeared to be a store called Omi's Bench. ".....Well, what a surprise." He muttered quietly. He remembered the name Omi, as belonging to one of the Herald's earlier acolytes. A young yordle with a penchant for mechanics. He had parted ways with the Herald on a peaceful note, and gone his own separate way. But it appeared that fate {{Not the Card Master}} had plans for him. So the Chief Acolyte decided to pay a visit to his former colleague. He walked up and greeted the vampiric yordle with a smile and a wave of his hand.

"Greetings, Omi! Are you still lingering about Zaun? You poor thing! Oh, but you look to be doing well!"