Powerful trains ran through the forests and over the giant roots of the Jinmenju that covered the land. Crossing fields, tundra, desert, and past the remnants of civilization. Unyielding locomotives, whose tracks spanned the continent like a web of steel. This was the Imperial Railway. While some people chose to travel by foot or truck, like Casper just the other day, the Imperial Railway was the safest and most guaranteed method of travel. Connecting each of the Empire’s cities so their citizens could easily go from place to place, without worrying about hostile scavengers, bandits, and amalgamates. One of the benefits of being a citizen under the gold and white banner, there was no arguing with that.

From atop a tree branch, Casper watched one of the trains in the distance through his binoculars, about 200 yards away. From the shopping center he slept in the other night, he had climbed across branches and twisting trunks that had invaded the once bustling store. In their most congested areas, the forests could be so dense that one could walk across the treetops, with minimal effort.

From the looks of it, the train was most likely a supply line. Carrying things like food, water, and other provisions, such as Life’s Blood. Definitely didn’t look like a civilian train, he knew that much. Putting his binoculars back, it was time to get a move on. Scaling down, digging his claws into the tree, he quickly descended to the forest floor, leaving a long claw mark on with way down. The question remained where to go next. As he thought on this, he reached into his pocket for a smoke, only to soon realize that he had none, causing him to sigh in annoyance.

“Is that a gun?” A small voice next to him said.

Casper, shocked, looked down. There, just at level with his stomach, was a small child, a Wyvern1, who was looking at his revolver with a great deal of curiosity. Casper wasn’t too well-versed in the various species of Wyverns, so he wasn’t quite sure what she was. Black scales with red blotched all over her. In response to her question, Casper made a shooing motion towards her, “Yes.”

The hatchling, no longer interested in Casper’s gun, looked for the train in the distance. She sighed, disappointed now that it had just passed. “Aaaw, I missed it… That train’s better than the one at home.” She said before running off, leaving Casper alone.

It took the Sphynx a good few moment to realize what just happened, “Wait a minute.” He said, looking in the direction where the child ran off to, feeling a bit dumb that he only now just processed what a kid being here meant; he blamed it on the sleep deprivation. “What are you doing way out here, kid?” He said to himself, taking a short walk, following after her. If a child was out here, that meant there had to be a village. No way a child could survive for long past the walls of a city unless they have some good people protecting them. Wandering through the overgrowth and past the giant plant life, it was apparent how harder it was for him to get around in the cluttered environment, compared to a small child. She couldn’t have gone far, as a matter of fact he swore he could hear her in the distance.

Finally, he came into a clearing at the top of a short cliff, nearly getting hit in the head by a branch. Suddenly, the offhand statement from the girl had a bit more meaning. A large stretch of land where several train cars were lined across a gravel field, enclosed by a metal fence. Engines, civilian cars, storage units, box cars, all of them taken from old world trains. With the trains of the old world no longer in service, the various flavors of rail cars had fallen into disrepair. But, once Casper took his trusty binoculars out once more, he spotted the minute details of the cars. He was wrong, they hadn’t fallen into disrepair at all. As a matter of fact, they looked they they were regularly receiving maintenance; although the wheels were removed on all of them. Upon further inspection, there were people inside of them. Several difference species, conversing, coming in and out of the cars, Byakko, Garuda, Fenrir2, and Wyvern. Some of them converted to have shopping booths were people peddled stuff. They were no longer train cars, not anymore, from the looks of it they were completely repurposed. Although, despite being an old railyard, there weren’t any tracks. Likely torn out of the ground and recycled long ago. Continuing to scan around with his binoculars, he spotted the entrance to town, a gate in which people were passing in and other. Built from the side of a locomotive, was a sign baring what could be assumed to be the town’s name: Tracks. Further back, beyond the crowds, there was a large station, the place where transactions were main or maintenance on the cars was performed, at least that’s what it was long ago.

So, Casper made his way down the cliff and towards the gate. While there were guards stationed by, a pair of tough looking Minos, but they paid Casper no mind. Thankfully it was easy to get in and out.

As there were plenty of merchants, Casper slowed himself for a moment. This could be a good time to stop and spend some of his Shells, he had a few to spare. Just an idle thought that he wasn’t sure if he would follow through on. As he passed by the various cars and stalls, trying to blend into the crowd, he noticed a group that wasn’t buying or selling. It was a group of people, huddled around a board game. Curious about what kind of game had attracted such a sizable crowd, he walked over and looked over the shoulder of one of the audience members.

The board game featured several rows and columns, in which pieces were placed, each piece representing a different classes of soldiers, devices, and even structures. The two players, both Fenrirs, an old looking Greyhound and a Fox, were deep in concentration; although from how things looked, it was very one sided in the Fox’s favor. The Greyhound, an old but tough looking man whose fur was grayed by age, looked like he was puzzling over every minuscule move. His opponent was an effeminately built Fox, wearing a tight black outfit and a white mask that concealed their face, looked completely calm from their body language alone. The mask had the details of a face, though, a line along the side looking like a smiling mouth and a pair of closed eyes. With their whole body covered, the only thing giving away their species was their large orange tail sticking out of their outfit.

“You’ve lost.” The Fox said, moving a piece forward. To an onlooker without any familiarity with the game, they wouldn’t even realize the checkmate position that the Greyhound was in. Speaking in a determined monotone, the Fox spelled things out for their opponent. “No matter the move you make, you will fall into defeat. If you wish to take a diplomatic surrender, I will accept it.”

The Greyhound scoffed and shook his head, with a grunt he stated confidently, “Bah! I still got some fight left in me! I’ve been playing this game long before your parents even thought about making you! Don’t get smart with me, missy!”

“This girl’s good.” An onlooker next to Casper said, excited by the game, “Goza is our caravan’s best Ninshubur player. I’ve never seen him sweat like this since the tournament we had.”

Casper watched the game, looked to the man speaking with him, “Interesting to see how widespread Ninshubur is. Especially considering its age.” Ninshubur, a very old board game, was noted as being easy to learn but very difficult to master. The board represented a battlefield while each piece was a soldier. Other larger pieces represented buildings such a storehouses, bases, barracks, and farms One could win either by destroying their opponent’s structures and causing them to run out of supplies, or they could simply killed everyone. As for its age, implied by Casper, there was a little known fact about the game; it was older than the culture of Qest, the only things changing were things to fit modern day. “It was once played by Xha3 nobles, right?”

“Yes. To you. The Sphynx.” The Fox spoke up, moving on to what was the finishing move on his Greyhound opponent. A destructive victory. If the board was an actual battlefield, Goza’s capital would be burning and his people starving. “There it is. You should have conceded. Although it’s been fun, I’ll be taking my Shells and be on my way out. I still have work to be done” The crowd sighed in disappointment that it was over already, even the normally sour Casper. Goza meanwhile was slumped in his chair, not just because he lost, but because of his opponent’s attitude; whatever, he told himself, I’m still the champ among my caravan. As he stood up, picking up the pieces and placing them in a slot on the side of the board, the Fox began to leave. “…And by the way. I’m a boy.” He said, looking specifically at the guy who called him a girl earlier.

As he left, passing through the audience, his thin frame easily slipping through the crowd, Casper spoke to him, “You know about this game’s history?” For once he had a hint of excitement in his voice.

“I know people who do.” The Fox said, stopping in his tracks for a moment, “I assume you do too. Not many people are familiar with Xha around here… Look, if you are looking to have a conversation, talk with the guy in the center of town, but I must go.” Without another word or a chance for Casper to follow up on the topic, he was gone.

Casper sighed, then looked to the man who was talking to him earlier, a Crow Garuda; he was about to leave as well, from the way the crowd was dispersing, everyone else was. With an awkward shrug, Casper mumbled, “Yeah, I… Use to work as a bodyguard for some scholars. It was a teenage job. So… Who was that guy?”

“Er… They said their name is Cho. That’s all I know.” The Crow said, breaking off.

“His name is Cho, They came here stating that they’re tracking an Amalgamate. One who had came dangerously close to Tracks.” Another crowd member said, approaching Casper. They were another Fenrir, a Hyena. Clad in a lightly armored vest that one would use to stop bullets, as well as a pair of baggy pants, she introduced herself to Casper. The Sphynx also quickly noticed the state of her right arm, or rather the lack of it. The limb ended in a stump just above where her elbow would be. With her left arm, she brushed back the mohawk shaped line of fur on her head, “Heh, sorry about intruding. I know a newcomer to Tracks when I see one. I’m Trace. Parents couldn’t decide on a name, so they let me name myself. Turns out that babies have trouble saying the word Tracks, so it came out as Trace.”

Casper, taken aback by the woman’s motormouth, took a moment to collect himself. “I’m Casper. You are the… What around here?”

“Security. This place gets its line of trouble now and again and we need people to take care of it.” She said, flexing her one arm. She was noticeably muscular, Casper didn’t doubt her skills. “Yeah, I know, you’re probably wondering about my arm? Thing is, I chewed it off to escape a bunch of bandits who kidnapped me.”

Casper’s eyes widened, which was surprising, since he normally looked wide eyed. In a rare moment for him, he actually looked disturbed and slightly amazed at the woman’s hardcore choice. “Uh… That’s nice. I am new here, yes. Anyways, can you tell me where I can find someone to help me out?”

“Whoa, hey, I was just kidding.” The Hyena laughed, patting her stump of a right arm. “I got Arborpathy at a very young age. I was 10. It was especially concentrated in my right arm, basically becoming a tree branch. So the best course of action was to amputate it.” With a grin, she added, “I just like to tell that to see how people reaction. But, anyways… What do you need?”

“Is this town affiliated with the Sleepless Sky Coalition?” Casper asked, taking out the journal he had, “I need a favor from them.”

The Hyena hummed, looking at the journal, which bore the Coalition’s symbol. “Well, yes and no. We occasionally get help from them, but we aren’t really tied to them or watched over by them. Tracks is very independent. If you want to fight for the Coalition, why don’t you go to one of their towns or wear their symbol?”

“Because I want a favor from them, not to fight for them. I have a job that they can do for me that the Empire can’t.”

An awfully vague answer. But, Trace didn’t mind all too much. So, she shrugged, and motioned with her arm stump at the various people around town, putting her hand on his shoulder, “Listen, you might’ve noticed that this place is full of merchants and caravans. A few beds and places to sleep, but no real houses. The only real permanent residence is the place at the center of town. That’s because Trackcs is more of a rest stop for travelers and merchants. People come, buy, sell, and leave. Other people come just to see what there is to see here. We sustain ourselves off of this being a hotspot for merchants. The only permanent citizens are the owner, his wife, their children, the people who maintain the cars, and a few security guards like me and those Minos you saw at the entrance.”

“So… Where does that leave me?” Casper raised a brow, unsure of why he was suddenly being given the whole brochure of the town.

“Tracks can’t help you itself, but we know people who can.” She smiled brightly, “As a matter of fact, I know someone who is going to be in town tomorrow who will be more than happy to help you out.”

“Who?” Casper asked, happy to finally get a lead to where he was going.

“A Byakko by the name of Rakkan. A traveling fighter, who isn’t truly allied with anyone but has contacts around the place. He goes from city to city, putting on wrestling matches for money, food, and to boost moral. “He goes in and out of cities, independent, Coalition, and Imperial. If anyone can get you in contact with one of the Coalition’s higher ups, and is easy to work with, it’s him.”

“Uh huh…” Casper said, pondering, “…What’s he like?”

Location: Coalition Protected Town, Vernided

At a plaza in the middle of the small town, an area where there was heavy foot traffic, a pair of men conversed. One of them, a strong looking Black Abyssinian Byakko, and the other a Jackal Fenrir. The Jackal, a man by the name of Ramie, had a bit of a reputation in town; whether it was good or bad, depended on who you asked. A street fighter and a temperamental man, often using aggression to solve his problems, had agreed to a spectator fight. He was recognized as the strongest fighter in town and his opponent was quite popular. A fight like this would bring a good boost to the moral of the town and they would both be paid for it.

“Honestly, if you ask me, I’m only doing this for the pay.” Ramie stated, chewing on a bone from the meal he was bought. “See, I’m not a big fan of these spectator fights. Wrestlers? Boxers? Cowards are what they are. A real fight happens at any moment, without warning, anytime and anywhere. That is the true essence of a fight.”

The Byakko rubbed the back of his head, not amused by the man’s words. It didn’t help that he was a big fan of these fights and a boxer himself. He couldn’t help but feel insult by the Jackal’s words. “Well, if you had a reason that wasn’t the pay, why did you sign up in the first place?”

“To teach people this lesson. Take you for example. Can you fight without warning or do you need to hear a bell first to give you the cue.” Ramie shrugged, smirking, “Whatever, it doesn’t matter right now. It’ll be decided when we step into the ring Rakkan.”

There was a pause from the Byakko. He no longer looked insult, instead he only looked confused. “Uh…” His ears folded back, “I’m not Rakkan. I’m just the guy hosting the fight between you two. Zetto.”

“Then who’s…?” Ramie said, his face also switching to confusion, as he leaned back in his chair, he realized that there was somebody behind him.

He turned around and was met with his opponent, Rakkan. To say he was a large man would be an understatement. A Lion Byakko who stood at seven feet tall, extremely muscular too, to the point where the plain t-shirt he wore barely fit him. A wall of muscle with a brilliant golden mane, he towered over Ramie was if he could decapitate the Jackal with a simple backhand. He spoke in a deep, low voice, “Anytime, anywhere, huh?”

Ramie looked up to the monster of a wrestler in a look of immediate regret. “Uh… Hi…”

But, then, Rakkan laughed, a loud jolly laugh. He reached his hand down and gave Ramie a friendly pat on the shoulder. “Har har har! Good, good! A good bit of hostility, an insult here and there? Gets people pumped!” With a grin, Rakkan punched his fist into his hand, “How about right now?”

Still regretting his decision, Ramie’s earlier confidence was completely gone, but he managed to crack a smile. “We should wait for the fight, right? You’re the wrestler, you like being in the spotlight.”

“Hm?” The Lion looked genuinely baffled by Ramie suddenly pulling back. But, he kept up with the jovial tone, “You said anytime, anywhere, no? Plus, this is your turf, I’d hate to deny my opponent a special request!” He sounded like he genuinely didn’t understand why Ramie was dialing back “Yes, I don’t like fighting without an audience, it’s not in my character. But!” Rakkan motioned to the various citizens who had started to gather. People looking out windows, stepping out of doors, and stopping what they were doing to see what was going down. Rakkan’s energy was enough to draw a crowd. He made sure to flex for them. “Come, come! What do you say!”

Another pause from Ramie. There was only one way out of this. The divide between them was even more apparent when they squared each other down. While Ramie was tough and fierce, he had a slim build. On the other hand, Rakkan was all muscle. Swiftly, Ramie reached for something at his thigh and lunged forward.

It was a small, but carefully sharpened shiv. More intended to maim and hurt than to straight up kill.

I won’t be made a fool of, Ramie told himself.

But, a fool he was made. There was a short gasp from the onlookers, a shock that immediately died when it was apparent that the knife failed to pierce the Lion’s abs, only a small trickle of blood where the knife landed. “Sneaky.” Rakkan said as he grabbed his opponent by the shirt and lifted him up. Zetto, the Abyssinian, was backing away, knowing full well that he couldn’t stop this. While Ramie was freely insulting his opponent because he didn’t know he would be facing down a 7 foot tall 300 something pound man, this only proved why it was smart to read up on your opponents before you fight them. Rakkan, holding Ramie over his head with ease, grinned, “This is going over there!” He shouted as he gripped Ramie by his hip and swiveled on his feet. Letting go, he tossed the Jackal into the air and across the plaza like a discus. The Jackal, shocked at the sudden flight, made a painful crash landing several meters out; in pain and not going to forget this, but very much alive. The toss was met with gasps of amazement and applause. It was safe to say that Rakkan had won the crowd. All that he was left with was a bloody spot on his stomach area.

“Haha! All talk, it seems! Come back now!” He said motioning to the crowd.

“He tried to stab you.” Zetto said, sighing at how the Lion seemed to be taking this so casually, “Right. Guess the fight happened early… I’ll get both of your pays by tonight.”

“Stab me? With that safety pin? This is nothing!” Cracking his neck, the Lion took out his pocket book that looked incredibly tiny in his giant hands. What was next on the agenda?

There it was, the next stop for his travels. A small merchant town called Tracks.

1. A race of reptilian humanoids, primarily lizards

2. A race of canine people. Both domesticated and wild. Despite real world conceptions of cats and dogs, Byakko and Fenrir are known allies throughout history. Despite not being Canines, Hyenas are also lumped into this category.

3. A race of humanoids that inhabited the planet that came to be known as Qest long before the Beastmen became the dominant species. The height of their culture was approximately 5000 years before the start of the story. Their culture, as well as the discovery of their temples, is a major focus of many scholars and schools, the most known being Xha-Laotan. The time between the “Age of Xha” and the “Age of Qest” is unknown and another subject of extensive study.