So named for the abundance of ne’er-do-wells, scoundrels, and rogues that congregate here after dusk, Rogues Court has become the unofficial home to Cillamar’s black market. During the day, the court is abandoned, littered with trash and inhabited only by rats and the occasional feral street cat. After dark, it comes alive with vendors selling strange and forbidden wares, drunken toughs (and thieves pretending to be drunk), nobles slumming with ladies of the night, and the inevitable press of beggars. And to the west, the looming edifice of the Thieves’ Guild watches over them all. When dawn breaks over the western peaks, the revelers retreat back into the shadows like cockroaches, to sleep off the pain of their sins and excesses.
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A score of small gambling dens, disreputable fences, bawdy houses, alehouses, and dens of inequity surround Rogue’s Court, catering to the crowd and their decadent tastes. The Lantern Watch is not welcome here, and the Patriarch sends his Magn’gard into the Court after dark only when he has exhausted every other option. In the center of the court is a fountain depicting a lovely young girl, dressed in a hooded cloak with a sheathed blade at her side. In the early evening, the statue appears as Calistria, the goddess of many faces and guises, but after the Witching Hour, when the smoke of the fat lanterns hangs heavy over the square, the statue takes on the more sinister aspect of Urgathoa, the goddess of physical excess, disease and undeath.
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