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About Wels

I am your father. Slow, ominous tone—brothel, huh? A wretched hive, man. Like, seedy joints, dark alleys—total chaos. Been harvestin’ crops, but this? Whoa. Saw one once, total shocker—girls everywhere, smokin’, laughin’. Felt like steppin’ into a movie, y’know? “The Secret in Their Eyes”—damn masterpiece. That flick’s got secrets, brothel’s got ‘em too. Hidden stories, man, behind every curtain. “What do you want from me?”—movie line fits perfect. Guys stumblin’ in, lost, desperate—pathetic, right?

A History of Prostitution

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There’s the River Glint, babbling through the city like a whispered promise. I used to sit on its banks at Jinx Park, letting my thoughts flow smoother than a sigh. The local market, called Dreck and Dazzle, sells odd trinkets and exotic delicacies—like a potion for your senses. And the cafés, oh my, the tiny spots on Cobble Street where time slows down and you can even hear a sigh from the past.