Politics here are as bad as what the king deals with, if not worse.
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Marcus thought on the singular statement as he watched his gang leader, Sly, talk with the other gang leader.

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Marcus was no more than 10 by all appearances, dirt plastered on his rags and skin. Disheveled blonde hair hung low on his brows, almost covering his brown eyes. Being a medium sized boy in this world was unkind, especially when the food he ate kept him so skinny. By all rights Marcus was worse than broke, being consistently in debt to his gang. Such was their law of taxes, that whatever money you came to possess was given to, watched over, and spent by the gang leader.
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In this the breakdown of money, 100 bronze talons was a silver talon, 100 silver talons was a gold talon, and every 100 gold talons was a plithe, the highest form of money you could come to possess.
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Marcus looked around at the other children in their version of an amphitheater. All were similar to him, girls and boys alike. None were over the age of sixteen. Most of them he knew, but new faces adorned the crowd due to the king's high taxes. Children were abandoned by their parents when the parents went broke and could no longer support them. Others were ally cats whose mothers, for they were illegitimate children, had died one way or another.
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As he sat in the quiet he returned his gaze to Sly, who had earned his name by being deceitful. Sly took no mercy on his underlings, and he and his soldiers often beat Marcus and the other children. To become a soldier you had to turn 14, as well as being able to lift a club. Soldiers were responsible for muggings and thievery, as well as gang war.
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Eventually Sly turned and walked angrily from the leader of the Rats. It seemed there would be war in the capital city of Kaldros over a single block of territory between the two gangs. This loomed over Marcus' head. Even though the Dragons, the gang he belonged to, had plenty of soldier. Soldiers would often become grim and spiteful due to the fighting, and the beatings would become worse.
.

This was merely a small portion of what went on through all of The Alliance. The continent was large, and although most of the population was human, on the eastern shore was a new race, whom they did not know and had no name for. They had sailed from far across the great waters and slaughtered humans in their colonization of their state, which had been named Shadowland by the king.