Given the ordeal to reach this place, Marc expected to find something akin to a foreboding crypt carved from obsidian. A place perpetually covered in dark clouds, where the occasional lightning bolt struck a passerby to keep things interesting.
Alternatively, he could end up in a rundown part of the city, where the criminal element ruled over its frightened citizenry with an iron fist. That would spice things up for a soldier searching for a purpose… Alas…
Instead the club, like the area, was decidedly nondescript. The most notable aspect of the canal they used to reach the club was the lack of direct sunlight. The channel was narrow, and perpetually bathed in shadow.
Disclaimer: This excerpt from Man of War is currently in development. There may be typos, errors, omissions, inconsistencies and so forth.
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