It was midnight in Wolfbrunn, yet the city was still very much alive. Lights shined from most of the stores, and citizens walked the street. I had figured my outfit would make me stand out, but I couldn't have been further from the truth.

There seemed to be no real guidelines for fashion. Some dressed like peacocks, others just settled for full cloaks. I saw some folk with oversized swords and ineffective armor, walking along with what I assumed to be whores, until I realized they were just as well-armed.

"I don't understand these ladies' fashion sense," I remarked while riding Jeff, who was cantering down the main road.

"Don't ask me," he said, with a verbal shrug. "I don't get clothes in general."

"I just...I see armor platings, but they leave the stomach unprotected? A bullet to the gut would kill you almost as surely as one to the head.

"I can assure you that the armor isn't designed for gunfights," said Jeff. "Maybe they need extra flexibility?"

I grunted in acknowledgment. It wasn't my business anyway, it was just...quite the culture shock.

I kept going. I was heading away from the castle and was in what I assume to be the middle-class district. It kept a fair balance between the more wealthy-looking folk and the considerably less so. Closer to the looming castle was the district of the rich. Nobles, merchants, and degeneracy found their home there, and I left that district as soon as I could.

I was on my way towards the ass-end of town. No matter the planet, some things never change. A bar in the seediest of corners is exactly where you can get the true sense of a place and its people.

It was still a bit of a ride, as the city was impressively large. My gaze wandered upwards. The full moon hung overhead, far bigger and brighter than the moon I knew. The surface was completely smooth, like a glass orb hanging in the sky.

It struck me as wrong somehow, as if the moon should be a constant, no matter how far from home I get.

"Why is it so damn smooth?" I mused aloud.

Jeff didn't even look up. "I figure it's because it's 'new'. Takes billions of years of asteroid impacts to get the kind of look you're used to."

"...You don't think this planet and moon were created just like that, do you?" I asked.

"That's exactly what I think. This planet, moon, and maybe even the whole damn system has probably only existed for as long as we've been here."

Erudite was hard to get used to. When someone uses an unfamiliar word, I'll understand the definition, but I still miss some context-specific phrases. "System?"

"Solar System," Jeff clarified.

And just like that, I knew what a Solar System was, and the scale involved. I went silent for a moment. I both loved and hated thinking about these sorts of things. On the one hand, it made me feel small. On the other...well, it made my problems feel just as minuscule. Goes to show how nobody really knows shit.

While I mused, we had finally reached the lower-class district. I struggle to call it a 'slum', as it wasn't quite that bad. Or perhaps my standards for a slum were a tad skewed. Entering the district was odd, as there was no gradual change. One street was-middle class, and the next was lower-class, as if there was an invisible line separating the two.

The streets were dirty, and so were the people. The buildings followed the same lack of consistent design that the rest of the city did, but taken to more of an extreme. The layout made no sense whatsoever, with spiraling alleyways leading in every which way, a large road that led to a tiny cul-de-sac, and buildings only accessible from the second story of the neighboring structure.

The only commonality was the fact that every building was made out of some kind of dark wood. It created an oppressive atmosphere, and smelled of mildew and poverty.

I took a deep breath. I could practically feel the air settle on my skin. It felt far more comfortable than that damn castle.

Jeff trotted down the narrow streets, avoiding poorly-dressed citizens all along the way. I was dressed well, but not so much that I was out of place. Jeff, on the other hand, drew far more attention. Unlike the middle-class district, horses were rare here, and generally only ridden by guardsmen. And Jeff himself was quite the specimen.

I reckon nobody was quite so stupid as to attempt to steal a horse that size. Most rightfully assumed they would receive a kick to the head, and steered clear. I would normally be concerned with leaving a horse unattended in a place like this, but most horses aren't smarter than their riders.

It didn't take long to find a suitably dirty tavern. I had an eye for these things, and it practically oozed with seediness. A gnarled wooden sign hung out the front, reading 'Adelmar's Wenches'. The rotting steps lowered to a dirt road and rose to boisterous laughter. Light shined out the windows and through the swinging doors.

"Do you even have money?" asked Jeff.

"I got myself a bit of an advance payment. Should be worth a whole lot of beer, if I'm understanding the currency correctly."

"Oh, how uncharacteristically well thought out. Have you considered how I'll get shit-faced?"

I shrugged. "I'll figure something out."

Jeff sighed as I dismounted. I checked my weapons and coin wallet, then took off my hat. It paid to have good manners, after all.

I nodded to myself and walked right in.

The swinging doors swung open, and the air felt like a slap. It smelled of sweat, vomit, and leather. The humidity was so damn strong that it bothered even me, and the laughter and swearing were loud enough to drown out my own thoughts.

Truly, it felt like home.

I took in the sights. The interior was surprisingly well decorated, with plenty of ornaments on the wall, artistic depictions of people, parts from local monsters, and plenty of other knick-nacks. Unlike my room in the castle, this tavern was clearly loved, if not clean.

More interesting were the people. I've seen plenty of folk in the streets on my way here, which is why I was quite shocked to see that there weren't just humans. For a moment, I thought I saw a Chaira, but I was wrong. It was a different species altogether. I pushed that feeling aside.

The tavern had dozens of people in it, and quite a few of them were noticeably not human.

I saw a waitress with what seemed to be cat ears, serving a slender woman with unnaturally long ears. I observed another woman with a scale-plated tail, arm-wrestling a man with a face like a wolf. She was the one who reminded me of the Chaira, with a similar assortment of scales along her face and limbs.

There might have been more, but the tavern was big enough for two stories, and I was already on my way towards the bar. I don't make a habit of standing in doorways. Nobody even glanced up as I entered, so I clearly didn't stand out too much.

Though I got the sense that all the regulars here stood out in their own ways.

I danced around a couple of smelly bodies before I reached the bar. Manning it was an older gentleman, human as far as I could see. I waited as he dealt with other customers, drinks dancing in his hands with practiced efficiency. I read the signboard behind him while he was busy, erudite making it effortless as always.

There was only ever one language I've seen used in the rest of the city, but I could see dozens here, though most with only one or two drinks in that language. I was curious as to why that was, but the old man was about done. He walked over to me, seemingly covering twice the distance he should have in the same time.

"What can I get you?" he asked, voice like butter.

I scratched my chin. "A bittered sling."

He raised a wizened eyebrow, and I felt a small prick of power wash over me. It was quickly rebuffed by my superior core.

It was my turn to raise an eyebrow. "What did you just try to do?"

The old man looked genuinely embarrassed. "Apologies. It's my skill that helps me identify the drink my target desires. I'm not familiar with this 'bittered sling', so I used it. Its just...not as helpful as it used to be."

I nodded. "I understand. I'm not from around here, so how about you just surprise me? I ain't picky, as long as it's sweet."

I placed 10 coppers onto the table, two more than the most expensive drink on the board.

The old man quickly pocketed it and smiled. "I'm sure I can think of something."

He scurried away, taking another man's order, and then wrangling his impressive assortment of drinks. The cat-eared waitress came by and whispered a few words in his ear. Every movement of the workers was quick, but without any rush.

My appreciation was cut short by a shadow looming over me. I sighed.

"Where are you from, stranger?" came a deep voice, tone carrying a threatening undertone.

I turned around. It was the wolf-looking man from earlier. He was massive, maybe seven feet tall. I could see muscles bulging beneath his skin, seemingly trying to escape the prison of poorly-kept grey fur.

Some of the bar-goers noticed the beginnings of the commotion and were nudging their drinking partners. Everybody here had a pretty good idea of how this was going to go down,

"I'm afraid that ain't any of your business, partner."

He took a threatening step closer, trying to use his height as leverage. "I think it is. You look like you're from the west side. What is a fancy-pants like you doing all the way down here, hmmm?"

I smiled sardonically. "Apologies, I shoulda taken a quick roll around in the mud. I've been told the look suits me."

I looked him over, eyes dragging on all the matted fur. "Though I ain't so sure it works for you."

The yelling died down considerably, and the wolf-man stared me down, and I could see intelligence in his eyes. He wasn't just a drunk fool looking for a fight. He wanted something.

The man sitting next to me set down his bottle, well within my reach.

The wolf-man came to a decision. He took another step and opened his mouth. "You-"

I glassed him.