The further one gets from the central island with the palace and convention center and major temples, the worse the city gets. 

Wooden shanties cluster around wrecks of stone buildings; houses wrecked in a tarrasque attack and not repaired. Cloths hang in doorways; the doors torn down in the rioting and not repaired. Anyone passing through is met with suspicious glares– if not worse.

In the center of this neighborhood is a stone house, a bit larger than the others and in better shape. The doors and window shutters are closed, and sturdy. Red paint scrawled on the wall reads "heaven is an army".