Inside the foul-smelling belly of a Ranevian tavern, the world rotted with every breath.
A long crooked hall of timber and torchlight swayed with laughter, lechery, and the reek of wet blood. The floorboards were warped and sticky, drowned in years of spilled ale and thicker fluids.
Somewhere beneath the din, rats squealed as they chewed each other apart in their cage fights, the onlookers hooting and slapping coins down like it was sacred sport.
A few Mad Vipers lounged near the pit, bellowing encouragement at their chosen vermin.
"That one—bite his damn eyes out!" a man howled, slapping his knee as two emaciated rodents clawed at a shred of moldy cheese.
On the far end, draped across stained cushions, girls danced and laughed hollowly beneath the groping hands of half-conscious men. Some were barely clothed; others simply didn't care anymore.
