The Den of the FollaZords
The city, known as the heart of the region, extends in a perfect circle, surrounded by imposing walls that protect its vibrant districts. At its core, the Central District, barely 2 km², houses the palace and the sorcery tower, where the council rules with a firm hand. Around it, the Guild District (6 km²) buzzes with the noise of forges and Terralitos workshops, while hunters and alchemists gather in their guilds. The Commercial District (5 km²) is a chaos of shops and vendors, from jewelry stores to slave markets, where everything has a price. Quieter, the Religious District (3 km²) is dotted with temples and shrines, resonating with rituals and chants.
For travelers, the Lodging District (3 km²) offers inns and taverns, although some communal courtyards hide discreet brothels. The Peasant District (6 km²) is home to humble dwellings, with farms and orchards that feed the city. The nobles reside in the Noble District (4 km²), full of mansions and gardens protected by guards usually from the third division. In the Mounts District (2 km²), stables and corrals provide beasts for transportation, while the Grand Market (2 km²) is a hotbed of bartering where everything is sold, from relics to trinkets. Finally, the city covers ~70 km² in total, a vast expanse where many different districts, squares, roads, and parks coexist under the same circular walls, shaping this living city, a melting pot of power and commerce, the most important trading point in Glimmetropolis. Therefore, if our travelers do not find what they are looking for, all this effort would be in vain.
The night envelops this gigantic medieval city in a mantle of passion and vibrant life. Don was still impressed by how differently people behaved in each village, as if there was different treatment depending on where you were. As he walked through the streets, although he saw the reflection of bad memories repeating—like seeing children and adults chained, displayed as vile products for sale to the highest bidder—he learned to turn a blind eye to some issues and move forward, even if what his eyes judged was unfair. And although he wished to prevent it, he also did not possess the power to stop or prohibit this type of dealings that are considered normal in the domains of the mad King.
So, although his smile faded when he looked at the downcast children, he kept looking, smiling, and turning his gaze elsewhere to avoid trouble.
Despite that, this place seemed a bit more jovial and somewhat egalitarian, even if imperfect and out of the ordinary. But compared to the 5 largest villages in Glimmetropolis, this one, without a doubt, is very peculiar, as if social classes did not matter here.
Don quickly noticed that in the village of the Dusks, there was a strong contrast between the elitist nobles and the slums of that city they left behind. Here, even races he had never seen in the flesh strolled with complete tranquility: mermaids, therianthropes, elves, without being under eternal servitude. Here, mostly, those who decide to enter into a slave contract are the poorest, the starving, in other words. Those multiple races seemed to merge even with the human aristocracy in one place.
The cobblestone streets, illuminated by the warm glow of lanterns and torches, were crowded with a bustling night market. The stalls, covered with dark canvases that reflected purple and orange tones under the light, displayed various goods: fruits, breads, and jewels that shone temptingly.
Our travelers were looking for a specific shop among structures that only abounded in this city and the fortress of Duskfort in Valdric. Then, they saw passing by forges, bounty hunter guilds, inns, herbalists, artisan workshops (that repair Terralitos), scroll shops, jewelry stores, merchant guilds, a bunch of taverns, slave vendors, equipment vendors, beast tamers, bookstores, mount merchants, and temples.
They had been traversing the entire northern area of this gigantic city, something that the old map did not really magnify its real expansion, from about 33 to 70 km², that is, a city capable of housing up to 500 thousand people with residential districts, workshops, guilds, temples, markets, squares, and transportation areas; that would be 25 times larger than the previous village and twice as large as the next one.
It is the most densely populated urban core in Glimmetropolis, with entire districts dedicated to different magical, industrial, or guild functions. Its influence extends beyond its walls, controlling routes, portals, guilds, and temples.
All the cities and villages are properties of the noble Dusk family, who received all the lands of the new Glimmetropolis as their domain.
The air is filled with the aroma of spices and freshly baked bread, mixed with the constant murmur of the crowd. Wooden and stone buildings, with sloping roofs and Gothic details, rise on both sides, their windows emitting a faint glow that suggests homes and taverns full of stories. High above, a castle with towers stands out against a sky tinged with purple and orange tones, where the last lights of twilight fade. Figures dressed in cloaks, tunics, and light armors wander among the stalls: merchants, travelers, guards, and perhaps some hooded mage, all moving with a purpose that the night seemed to amplify. The atmosphere is a cross between the magical and the everyday.
Don, from time to time, asked about the final direction of their long walk, dodging people among a crowd of others hurried to enter their homes and still considering that others might be starting their workday.
"—Hey, we've been walking for a long time, where are we going? If we left the place where there were all kinds of shops I've never seen in my life," he complains in his ignorance for not knowing this city as well as Miriel, while they had just arrived at the lodging district.
"—We came to look for your mystical alloy, useless human... What was that damned tavern called?" she wondered, losing her attention among the numerous buildings here and there.
"—This place changed too quickly in a month," he responds in a neutral tone, tilting his head from side to side trying to recognize a building hidden among so many.
"—You don't need to remind me every second you open your mouth..." he commented, upset.
"—Well... whatever. We're looking for an alchemist's shop."
"—Ok, so we're looking for an alchemist to make us the mystical alloy."
"—I didn't expect that you knew more than me about this, but you're wrong, human. Oh! Here it is!" And suddenly she stops walking abruptly, standing, raising her head, while she begins to smile reading the shop's sign "The Den of the FollaZords."
"—Here? Are you sure we'll find it?" he asks, confused.
"—Is this an alchemist's shop?"
"—I see you ask a lot of questions. Around here, we call them magistalis, so get used to it, and no. This isn't a shop, even better... Come on, follow me!" she says, going down the stairs that lead to a door she simply pushes open, finding herself in a warm, bustling environment, full of people, drinks, and peculiar music.
[Plink, plink… tum, tum, tisss]
The tavern vibrated with energy, laughter, moans, and the sway of cups. An improvised quartet played in the corner: double bass, piano, sax, and a female voice raspy like old leather, singing quickly while the bar seemed a complete mess.
—"I lost my coin, my coat, my pride… but hey, I kept the wine!"
Don stopped for a second. The vivid rhythm of the song, loaded with lyrics that appealed to vice without remorse, contrasted with the bustle of the patrons. Cheap alcohol, dangerous women, half-won fights enveloped him like a friendly slap.
—"I drank with the devil, I danced with his ex... I left with empty pockets and a mark on my neck," the vocalist sang amid the audience's laughter.
—"A girl on each arm, a scar on my chin—cheers to bad choices and where they begin!"
Miriel rolled her eyes.
"—Drinks and catchy rhythm. Perfect for this shithole. Come! Follow me," she says to Don.
Then Miriel approached the bar and asked to see Miss Teruise. The boss of this out-of-place bar, well, of all the bars in this city, but her favorite should be this one, for its intense atmosphere.
Then, coming back from the door, to the corner behind the shelves, a young girl with purple skin and a long furry tail, the therianthrope barmaid, approaches them with little interest in their presence, her disinterested and sharp green gaze starting.
"—You must sit at a free table in the back, the boss will come see you when she's done, the boss told me. Do travelers want something to eat?"
Miriel, absent from wanting to spend even for her own food—although both are starving—moves towards the table the barmaid recommended, leaving Don standing in front of her, waiting for his order. Don, still fascinated by the features of this long-haired girl with several earrings hanging from her pointed ears, wearing a cryptocrystal on the right side.
Sharp, furry ears, tinted white, with white shapes drawn on her skin using harmony and carried in strokes that descend from her neck, protected by her long dark hair, to her bare feet. The perfect image of art, imbued with the breath of life, in a female. Dressed in black elastic fabric pants, ornamented all over, earrings, long black ribbons tied to her left arm hanging down to her waist, numerous bracelets on both hands, and a tight top without bracelets rudely revealing the antennae of her modest qualities as a beast female.
Therefore, accentuating the difference between her tail and her furry ears, with the curves of smooth skin devoid of hair like any human. But culturally, in therianthropes, males or females, their way of dressing is much more... brazen... since, even being independent, marginalized, or desired for the mere taboo it provokes in curious perverts with money, they are still thinking beasts in the human eye, beasts that should remain in the wild nature, or according to others:
"—They are nothing but monsters generated by the corruption of the forests. Like the damned Forest of the 7 Kingdoms!" mentioned an extremely muscular red-haired Dwarf, drunk, slamming his glass on the table, disrespecting and denigrating his group companion from a different and superior tribe to that of the barmaid, with skin white as snow and black traces on his body, reading two books at once while they floated at eye level.
"—Maybe he's a mage?" Don asked when he stayed listening to the Dwarf's words, causing a ruckus and disturbing the atmosphere without effect from his table full of food and drinks for 3 people, a therianthrope, a mermaid, and that Dwarf.
"—Hey!" the girl shouts to get the attention of Don, lost in the atmosphere.
"—I wasn't very attentive... Sorry. What did you say to me?" he mentions, drawing a withdrawn smile, for the annoyance he causes.
"—Hmm..." she twists her mouth, to show how annoyed she feels with her job and continues.
"—I. Want to know if you want to eat? Or... drink alcohol like all these ass-lickers?"
"—Ass-lickers... is that an insult? I don't know. I'm very hungry. What can I choose?"
"—Human can eat, human food. So we have: Magma Fire Wild Boar Stew, Dragon Tongue in Red Root Butter, Gray Horn Meat Pie, Bat Soup... Tiger Ribs Glazed in Abejagua Nectar."
"—The ribs sound good... more than the others..." he responded.
"—Just by their names, they sound expensive..." he finished.
"—It's a dish for men, not for weak humans like you, boy... your ether stinks. It has the same smell as a dead man in war."
Don, surprised by her words, remains silent and asks.
"—You also noticed... heh, heh... what bad luck?" and without waiting, he proceeds to withdraw with his last words to her.
"—Sorry for the bother, bring me whatever you think is appropriate, for two people."
The barmaid acts empathetically and responds to him:
"—I don't recommend the tanda, bounty hunters usually eat it before each assignment because thanks to the abejagua flowers, it sharpens the senses for hours, suppresses fear, and reduces physical pain, stimulates the aggressiveness that higher-ranked bounty hunters usually have, and keeps you in a state of 'instinctive focus,' but... consuming it too often and for the first time causes mild paranoia, sleep disorders, and in extreme cases, a mental state similar to that of a cornered predator (loss of empathy, hypervigilance, extreme hunger)."