Known most commonly by the name The Black Market, the labyrinth-like space was home to countless shops, each popping up in the form of tents, gazebos, booths, or, if a merchant was established enough, permanent buildings. On any day, the cobblestone streets could be seen bustling with activity, the mutterings of the ever-flowing crowds a constant hum hanging in the musty air of the large-scale bazaar. Sizable tapestries and cloths were hung throughout much of the area, creating a gapped canopy above the streets that served as little more than minimal privacy and protection from the elements, as the deteriorating wooden roof far above didnât provide much from the rain that would occasionally leak from its cracks. The rickety architecture of the various facilities did, however, allow the glow from the ever-present moon to shine through, providing a source of light within the dimly-lit stone walls of the marketplace.
As an avid collector of oddities and rare occult objects, it was a common occurrence that Malakai would wander the paths of The Black Market in search of something to pique his interest. He was always looking to add to his extensive and always-growing compilation of powerful or unique items, most of which were now on display in various rooms throughout his castle. The crowds would hush as he walked through them, the bodies of the various creatures and folk collectively parting to make way for him with their heads lowered but their gazes trained. The sound of his henchmenâs loud footsteps would signal his approach, the disfigured Nephilim that went by the name of Chum trailing behind the vampire duke, guided by a thick chain that attached to an iron collar around his neck. On his head, he wore a mask that had been crafted by stitching together various faces, their flesh harvested or bought from one place or another. He was fortunate that his master had the skins tanned and preserved for him before theyâd been fashioned into a mask that could fit his large skull, giving it longevity and allowing him to avoid having it rot.
The pair had stopped to glance through the selection of fabrics at a merchantâs booth and the crowd began to speak and flow once again, going about their business once they realized that the duke would be temporarily stationary. A small scuffle behind him had Chum turning around when heâd been bumped in the back, the ten-foot tall Nephilim grunting as he glanced down at the fancy little human that stood before him, far beneath his own eye-level. Another long breath exited through his nose, the sound muffled beneath the flesh of the mask that he donned as he stooped down a little closer to the puny human to get a closer look.
âChum,â Malakai called to him, noticing that the giant brute had been distracted once again. He had been trying to help him pick out some fabrics to have tailored into a suit for him for the ball that he would be hosting a few months from now, but it was clear that he wasnât going to get him to cooperate until heâd dealt with the distraction. Stepping around the Nephilim to see what had grabbed his attention, the vampire settled his crimson gaze on the shorter male before him.
âPlease, excuse my friend,â he began. A look at his wardrobe and the expression on his face was enough to give him the impression that he was a first-timer in the market. âFirst time in the market, I presume?â
Chum had already begun to lose interest, his posture straightening to the best of his ability as he turned once again towards the booth and the fabrics that had been laid out for him. âChumâŚâ he muttered quietly, his bulky fingers inspecting the textures of the various goods as though he knew how to differentiate between qualities. Truth be told, he barely knew what his master was asking of him.
