The Stockyards

[Pharlen]

The Stockyards

Over a city block's worth of pens, runs, chutes, cages, all manner of apparatus for the purpose of moving large numbers of various animals from one place to another in salable condition. The actual chutes and runs are owned by the city and the brokers of beasts pay taxes for their use.

Pens, cages, and warehouses are owned by the ranchers, brokers, and other procurers of flesh. Business offices press closely around the stockyards, as does a tangle of railway tracks on one end and access to the docks on the other.

It stinks to high heaven.

A charnel house, the butchery, sits off to the side of the stockyards, where animals are processed into meat on an industrial scale.

The main suppliers of animals and meat are reasonably upright and decent beings. No one wants to get sued into the stone age for providing tainted meat, after all. But to say that these are all law abiding men and women might be going a bit too far.

The smaller suppliers have always been rather creative in their funding and managing of their stock.

Then there is the black market, which operates easily under the existing market. They boast that they can bring you whatever meat you desire. Fresh. Bloody. Still kicking.