City of Sinister Angles

A Baker's Life

On the lower levels of Thule, beneath the skyline of gibbous towers and jutting spires, in the thick of the city's creeping miasma, a man named Sunduk operated a modestly successful bread cart.

Sunduk had been born into the priestly caste of the city of Isbanir, in far off Zerzura, but that life was over now. He had left everything he had ever known behind and come to Thule in search of a second chance at life. 

As a priest Sunduk had been in charge of preparing a kind of sacred bread called Manna, and that was the skill he brought with him to Thule. Sunduk had not seen anyone else selling the bread, so he decided to open a small cart.

The bread was unusual and skillfully made, making it perfectly suited to the local tastes. Sunduk had operated his cart for four days already, and he had sold out his inventory long before sun down each day. It was now the fifth day and Sunduk was on track to sell out even earlier. He had already decided to buy a larger quantity flour tomorrow.

Two more customers approached his cart, smartly dressed men in tailored tunics and slacks. They were both heavily built Lemurians, one had stringy black hair and the other was blonde.

"You the one selling bread?" asked the stringy-haired man.

Sunduk spoke a little Lemurian when he arrived in Thule, and he had been picking up more of the language every day.

"Yes!" he said smiling "Manna bread from Isbanir. Finest bread in Thule. Three pfennings. Fall on my own sword, that price, but I like you face."

Sunduk may have picked up a little Lemurian culture along with their language.

"We won't be buying any bread, and you won't be selling any either," said the blonde man "You're not a member of the Baker's Guild and this cart is unlicensed. That's not how things work around here."

"We're going to take you to see the local Guildmaster. Are you going to come along peacefully or is there going to be a problem?"

"Problem? No problem," said Sunduk "This is all mixed up. I'm new I will explain."

* * *

The large men led Sunduk to the local Guildhall, which occupied the bottom three floors of a massive black marble tower that stretched well into the sky. The canopy of buildings above hid the true extent of its height (along with the sun, the sky and the stairs).

On the third floor of the tower was the Guildmaster's office, boasting a clear glass window overlooking a filthy garbage-choked alley. The office also contained a desk and two chairs that would have been very fine had they had not been neglected for several centuries. The Guildmaster sat in the less dilapidated of the two chairs, his hands folded on the desk.

The Guildmaster had a great protruding belly, as befitted the master of the baker's guild. Although he was not otherwise what one would describe as thin, his belly had a disproportional girth to the rest of him. His tailored clothes had clearly not been made to take it into account, either, and were even now in heated battle with it.

The large men marched Sunduk into the office and sat him down in the other, slightly more dilapidated chair. The one with stringy hair handed the Guildmaster a stack of papers.

The Guildmaster ignored Sunduk for an uncomfortably long moment as he read through the papers. He let Sunduk stew in the silence.

"You've been engaging in unsanctioned baking of bread for sale," said the Guildmaster finally "And the selling of bread from an unsanctioned baked. I have dozens of counts here. Let me ask you something, Sunduk is it?"

"Y-yes?" Sunduk guessed.

"Do you know how important bread is to Thule?" the Guildmaster asked.

"Very important?" Sunduk guessed again.