Читать книгу Seeds of the Bitter Harvest - John Sheppard - Страница 4

From a couple of thousand feet in the air the Port City glistens in the sun; the glass and steel buildings bounce the sun’s rays around the city. These temples of commerce demand much of their adherents, but reward the faithful with material goods in abundance. The cold, hard, unyielding nature of these buildings is also found in the hearts and minds of its residents. The bright gleaming exterior of the buildings hide places of decay within the city; much like the polished, high fashion life-style of their inhabitants is a thin veneer over empty, dark lives.

Families, friendships, co-workers, even national loyalties are all bartered for financial gain. Corporate policies and even an individual’s conscience cannot withstand the Sirens’ Call of an increased bottom-line. Those who attempt to resist are mocked, maligned, and brushed aside by those who have already succumbed to the enticement of increased wealth, social status, and power.

This is the only remaining city of what once was a small, prosperous nation. The rest of the land is now in the hands of a brutal Enemy. Many of those living in the Port City give little thought to those under the oppression of the Enemy, as long as their life style isn’t impacted.

To the west of the city lies the end of a rugged mountain range, which spills into the sea. The taller peaks of underwater mountains break the surface of the water to form jagged, uninhabited islands, which help form the part of the large natural harbor. The harbor bustles with activity, which is curious, given that much of the country which it once served lies in the hands of others. Vessels from almost every nation can be found within the harbor.