Aldiphor: it was not the biggest city in Natra, nor the richest, not even the safest… but it did not hold the title of the People’s Capital for nothing. It was night when they arrived, but they had no trouble seeing their way; the streets were swathed in the incandescence of various decorative lights— paper lanterns with colours that matched the colour of their pyromantic flames, glass lamps set into beautifully carved frames and filled with lumomantic sparkles, and excessively large candles with patterns carved into the wax, beautifully fleeting. Every building was a beacon of radiance. Artisans, bureaucrats, beggars, and patricians all walked the streets, none regarding the others with any particular extremes, people from all across Berodyl drawn to the land’s heart, perhaps to explore their own.

“This city never sleeps,” Krey toned. “I’ve been here a handful of times before. It’s always the same, every time I come here; every stripe under the sun rubbing shoulders with the others, all hours of the day and night, pushing all the world’s boundaries. Here, you’re truly free… and truly on your own.”

“Liberty, for better or worse,” Emilie mused. “I’ve only ever heard stories of this place. It is just as… colourful… as I’ve heard.”

“You think what you see outside is something,” Krey continued, “just wait until you see what happens inside.”

Emilie felt a shiver up her spine.

Livia had dreamed of places like this. Aubade had been home to many a cosmopolitan collective, but only humans had walked that land. Here, she saw elves and dwarves and goblins and halflings, even a smattering of draken - or dragonfolk, as Pippy insisted on calling them - sprinkled in among them. Of course, there were still plenty of humans, but they were vastly outnumbered. “It’s like I’ve walked into one of the old stories the sages used to preach…”

“Isn’t it amazing?!” Pippy clutched Livia’s arm and bounced up and down as they walked. “I’m not one to plant roots, but… if I had to…”

“I hear ya,” Livia breathed. “I’m just a bit overwhelmed.”

Krey pitched over to join the conversation. “What, like when you experienced your first big city?”

“This is different. Calastre was impressive, but this… this is…”

Words began falling out of Pippy’s mouth as she continued to hop along. “Wonderful? Magical? Fantastic? Warming? Just absolutely—”

“Yes, yes,” Livia chuckled, “all of those. It’s… yeah.” She smiled.

“Then, perhaps,” Emilie suggested, “we should consider staying here for a day or two. It would be a nice respite from the perilous wayfaring.”

“You sure you’re going to be able to tolerate such a vibrant locale for that long, My Lady?” Krey jested. “I must warn you, things get… less than pure around here.”

“I am willing to be uncomfortable for a small time for the sake of the party, Krey.”

“Alright, in that case, I know exactly where we can stay while we’re here. I’ve stayed there before; it’s usually a bit noisy, but the rooms and food are cheap.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Livia nodded.

“Yay! Tour de Aldiphor!” Pippy squealed.

“Okay then, just keep an eye out for an inn signed The Naked Now.”

It didn’t take them long to find, and they headed inside… and discovered that Krey had not been exaggerating about the state of indoor activities in this city.

There was a pair of orc women with their trousers down, and with facsimile phalluses made of concentrated mana protruding from their real genitalia, being used to viciously spitroast a smaller goblin woman across their rickety table; she seemed to be enjoying herself more than her dominators, her flailing limbs spilling their almost-empty flagons all over the floor, and her gargled moans almost audible above the in-house band’s raucous tunes. They were using state-of-the-art artificer-made magic instruments, playing classic bard songs with a fierce, metallic twist. At the bar, a blue elf man had his head clamped between the meaty thighs of a dwarf barmaid, his face pressed against her nethers, and even with this distraction, she was still being passed drinks by the bartenders to hand out to the bar’s patrons that drifted by amid the decadent chaos. Nearby, trying to steer clear of the tender carnage happening all around the dimly-lit room, was an observant kobold of all things, in a tiny version of what this placed called its uniform - a rather scant, almost parody-like interpretation of formalwear - doing his best to track tabs and unfinished transactions with a little notepad and fountain pen.

The final proof of this city’s unique culture of complete and utter hedonism was the next bar stool over, where an androgynous man of unknown race (his form was corrupted with skunk-like features, likely the result of contamination of the algafae, a strange phenomenon that Livia had not yet encountered…), lounging completely naked with his tail hanging across the bar and down onto the bartenders’ side; he was ordering another drink, and, at the same time, was emptying the tank to make room… right into the eager, gulping mouth of a goblin. The goblin also bore mutations that told of his time spent in Faeden, but his were less extensive and looked more like the features of squirrel.

Emilie’s stomach heaved, and she averted her gaze… and tried to breathe as little as possible. Krey shook his head and chuckled, having seen displays such as this plenty of times before. Livia and Pippy both just stared in a mix of fascination and absurdity. Emilie’s hand wandered into Pippy’s, and Pippy’s into Livia’s, and Livia’s into Krey’s. “Let us stay close together,” Emilie did her best to say over the clamour.

They eventually managed to shuffle their way to the bar through the bustling horde of frenzied merrymakers, and Krey thumped a fistful of cash onto the counter top. “We’ll take two rooms for two nights.”

“Will you, now?” a flowerfolk halfling hopped up onto a barstool behind the bar to get the boost he needed to see his new patrons. “Let’s see here…” he began counting the coins, humming away to himself at volumes far too low for anyone other than himself to hear. “Well, this is enough for the rooms and breakfast in the morning, if it please ya sir!”

“Breakfast for all four of us?” Krey raised an eyebrow.

The proprietor stroked his chin at that. “Aye, I suppose, but a small plate each instead of regular servings!”

“Deal,” Krey nodded.

Livia tapped Krey on the shoulder once they were part ways up the stairs in the back, headed for the quieter, more private second floor where the rooms were. “Couldn’t we afford to reserve regular-size breakfasts? We’re not exactly hurting for money anymore.”

“Normally, I’d say yes,” Krey toned, “but in Aldiphor, there’s only one sure way to not go bankrupt, and that’s to skewer yourself on your own blade the moment you arrive.”

“I pray you are not speaking from experience, Krey,” Emilie smirked.

“Of course not, My Lady,” Krey sternly replied, a bead of sweat rolling down the back of his neck.

“Good thing I’m not the one holding the purse strings,” Pippy tittered. “There were so many shinies and tasties to buy just on the way to this inn!”

“And even if I firmly clutch our proverbial purse shut,” Krey sighed, “I know we’ll all want to spend a bit while we’re here— including myself. So, in the morning, over breakfast, we’ll divvy up a sensible allowance each out of our small treasury. Sound good?”

“Sounds perfect,” Livia smiled.

Krey and Emilie took one of their assigned rooms, and Livia and Pippy took the other. In the room the hierophant and the knight had chosen, there was only a single bed. Even though Emilie had insisted he take it, Krey’s insistence to yield it to her had been more assertive, and he plunked himself down on the floor next to it. “Perhaps there is more bed space in the other room,” Emilie suggested.

Krey chuckled. “I’m not sure the girls would appreciate my intimate company. Besides, I’d rather remain at your side, My Lady.”

“Are you sure you’ll be alright down there?”

“I’m within solid, warm walls and in good company; I’ve had to sleep in far worse, don’t worry.”

Emilie sighed. “Very well.” As she rolled up in the blanket, she perched herself near the edge of the bed and reached out. “Pleasant dreams.”

Krey felt a small spark run through him when Emilie’s little hand found its rest upon his head. “And to you.”

The other room, thankfully, did have a double bed, though one might’ve classified it as a double merely on a technicality; squeezing two people into it was a challenge, and the battle for the blanket didn’t take long to commence. “Okay, I’m not sure this is gonna work,” Livia lamented. “We either need more blanket, or we’re gonna have to get pretty close together.”

“Hmm…” Pippy drooped lazily out of bed and sprung up on her knees, running her hands along the blanket. “Let me try something.” She placed Gloom on the blanket, and held Doom in both hands. She lowered the head of the mace so it was just touching the buckler, and began muttering under her breath with closed eyes. A red aura began flowing up her body and into the golden head of her catalyst weapon. “Manufacted… growth… night… geometry… flamboyancy!” she jerked Doom upward and then back down, striking the centre of Gloom and sending the red aura rippling out across the blanket. Its edges hissed with the sound of rubbing fabric, and stretched outward, growing five more inches in every direction. The new material wasn’t the same dull blue as the normal part of the blanket had been, but was patterned with eye-melting swirls of pink and green.

“Holy— what did you do?” Livia nearly leapt out of bed.

“I harnessed the relevant aspects of the arcane, and modified the blanket with a red spell! Neat, huh?”

“Yeah… neat.” Livia picked at the new edges, inspecting the new material. It was an even softer, higher quality cloth than the base blanket was, seamlessly added in a way no mundane seamstress or weaver could have accomplished. She recalled the words Pippy had chanted to cast her spell. “Was flamboyancy really necessary?”

“Yes! This room is way too drab considering where we are! Things in this city should be lively and colourful.”

Livia shrugged, just happy to have solved the blanket crisis.