The sun sets over the city of towers, catching the upper reaches in a golden glow. A dark line separates the lower levels and points of light start to illuminate windows and street lights.

In a small room in a seedy tenement, a motley crew of characters sit around a low table. They are arguing over how they will pay the rent - which is due tomorrow. They are demobilized soldiers, drifters and fortune seekers. With no peacetime skills to speak of, and a restlessness that makes regular work difficult to keep, they have taken shifts as bouncers, night-watch, wharehouse guards, and day labourers to make ends meet. They are hoping for a break. Undecided, they default to the bar where they will scan the want ads pinned to the wall before eking out a few coppers for the watery ale on the discount tap.