The Mimic in Monsterland

Orange rays of the afternoon sky blanketed the roots that made up the gate in front of Fennel. He would normally think about how peaceful a sight it was. It signaled that his day was about to end. That is if it was the gate that led to his home. But it wasn’t. The gate leading to the residential district didn’t have this many guards posted outside of it.

Fennel counted four separate guards. Each gave him a discerning look. Fennel sighed.

One walked up to him, holding a small notebook. A medium-sized human with antlers on his head. “Name, job, and reason for being here?”

“Fennel Blines, Squad Captain of the Fourth Legion. And my reasons are mine and mine alone.” He cringed internally at his last statement. It was such a pompous thing to say. But that was apparently the code Len left.

The guard’s eyes opened up more and he gave Fennel a once over. Fennel worried he’d messed up the phrase. The guard eventually shrugged, putting the notebook away without writing anything on it. He nodded to the female guard next to the lever to open the gate. She pulled it, opening the gate.

Fennel tried to walk past him, but the guard held out an arm. “Still got to check your Aura.” Fennel nodded and stopped. The guard placed a palm on Fennel's head.

Fennel felt the guard's mental presence connect with his own. Fennel almost blocked him out of habit. Daila’s training was extensive in the art of controlling one’s Aura. But these checks are needed to go in and out of the Gloom, on account of the particular businesses located here.

The guard removed his hand. “Looks good. Your balance is fine. Immaculate really. You’ve had a good teacher. Don’t know why you are bothering coming to this shithole.”

“Chief’s orders, you know how it is,” Fennel replied.

The guard nodded his head in agreement. “You’ve got until sundown. My shift ends at night and the next guy won't let you out. You’ll be stuck in there until next afternoon. When my shift starts again.” He said in a stern voice.

Fennel’s anxiety kicked up but his eyes were focused. He nodded to the guard. Fennel walked over to the gate entrance and looked through. The other side of the gate was dark, but he could make out lights and movement. He perked his ears and could make out the sounds of people on the streets.

Fennel’s mind raced with what he knew of the Gloom. Shadows covered the streets and buildings of this district. The Gloom was named so because it sat at the back side of the Capitol Building. The giant tree blocked the sun’s light for the majority of the day in this district. It got sunlight for a few hours in the morning, but by noon, shade enveloped the district. And it looks like it's all true.

He gulped before taking his first step. It was his first time coming to The Gloom. He had heard plenty of stories of the place from his uncle Herman. Who spent more time down here than anyone in the family cared for. But they never said anything, his position as Captain of the Guard was a major reason the Blines are so well regarded now.

He made his way through the tunnel, stopping once he was on the other side. Lamp posts lined the middle of the cobblestone street, with buildings constructed on both sides. The buildings each had a flaming brazier by their door, ranging in a multitude of colors. People walked on both sides of the lit path. Some laughed as they went on their way, others kept to themselves. One such person walked by him and the alcohol stench alone almost knocked Fennel down.

A woman with slender black rabbit ears poking out of her head stood outside of a building adorned with red lanterns and a large red brazier. She waved at Fennel, beckoning him to come over. She wore clothing that didn’t leave much to the imagination. A low-cut dress that seemed to just barely stay on her shoulders, as if a single wrong movement or breeze would cause the whole ensemble to fall off her.

“Hello there cutie. What brings such a fine upstanding man as yourself around here? Looking for a little,” she swayed her hips slowly before finishing with “companionship?” Her words danced around Fennel’s ears, enticing him to come along. But he knew this feeling. It was Aura manipulation. She was sending waves of allure.

He focused his mind, dispelling the emotions. “N-no, but thank you.” He cleared his throat. “But um, actually could you direct me towards Laurel’s Fountain.”

The woman’s demeanor changed as Fennel rejected her offer. Her ears drooped to the sides of her head and she held out her hand. He looked at her hand and then back at her. It took a moment before Fennel understood what was happening.

He grabbed his coin pouch and gave the woman a silver. She grabbed it and stowed it away in her garb. Her voice changed just like her attitude, sounding weary and deeper than just a moment ago. “Just follow the road, turn at the first club with yellow lights. Then follow that till you get there. Can’t miss the crusty thing.”

“Thanks.”

“Now, get out of here. Got to bring in more customers.” She turned away from Fennel and locked onto a new target. Her voice regained its sultry tone as she beckoned a tipsy woman walking by.

Fennel walked along the path, a little overwhelmed by everything going on around him. Laughter boomed right as he passed by a building with green lanterns, making him jump a little. A large elf man wearing a stained apron was holding a dwarf man in his arms. He threw the dwarf into the street. “And don’t you even think to come back here before you pay the tab!” The elf turned and looked at Fennel. “You with him?” Fennel quickly shook his head and continued on before any blame could be shifted on him.

His uncle told him the significance of each lantern color in the past, but Fennel never really committed them to memory. He was hoping he wouldn’t need to take trips to the Gloom, at least not for a while. He remembered green being his uncle’s main choice. Their establishment was geared towards splicers with abnormal appetites.

Fennel would never tell anyone as his uncle swore him to secrecy, but Herman Blines was especially partial to the tongues of beast-type monsters. Fennel didn’t share in his uncle’s tastes, not many did.

Herman explained to Fennel why the Gloom was a necessary evil when he was younger, and just started his legion training. “Part of having monster blood flowing through our bodies meant sharing in some odd…tendencies. These tendencies rise up when yer Mental runs low or gets out of whack. It’s normally because of the stresses of life on Kniyas. Be it trauma from recent or past battles, problems in the home, or just a simple lack of sleep. Each will make your Aura unstable. And that’s where the Gloom comes in.”

“But doesn’t each Legion have training for dealing with such problems?” I asked him.

“Aye, Daila Underbrush is in charge of the training for the Fourth, where you're joining. Hard one she is, but very, very good with Aura. You know as well as I not everybody in Laurelhaven is a soldier with access to these professionals. Raid Legions need to be the very best of the best. So they make sure to pound Mental training down our throats. Even if everybody does combat training as children, in case a group of monsters from a raid break into the city, not everyone is blessed with useful primary and detrimental stats like us.” He pounded his chest in pride before continuing his explanation.

“These people needed some way to effectively purge the behaviors and rebalance their Aura. And that is where that district comes in. The Gloom helps people relieve stress in the way best suited for them and their genes. Safely and within reason of course. The Gloom gives folks the chance to burn through those tendencies without hurting themselves or others. And it creates more jobs for those unfortunates as well. It ain’t a perfect system, but it's sure as shit better than letting everyone run wild.”

He stopped thinking about his uncle’s words, trying to direct his attention back to the task at hand. And failing as he thought about the few of his own squadmates who took trips into the Gloom. Fennel prayed no one would find him here. He didn’t want to be associated with the district. Especially to Gloria. He shook his head.

But for as nasty and degenerate as it seemed to him, Fennel knew firsthand what would happen to those who don’t do anything to try to control the gene urges.

Josu, his older cousin on Fennel’s father’s side, was one such case. A Minotauran with no STR or CON growths, but all the DEX and WIS in the world. Putting him on the frontlines of a raid would be tantamount to murder. So he was excused from raid fighting. He took up leather crafting and was even pretty good at it. Fennel had a lot of memories of spending time in Josu’s shop. He could even still smell the awful tanning agents Josu used.

But Josu’s wife died in a raid, throwing him into a downward spiral he never got out of. Fennel was still young when it happened but with his current Aura training, he now understood how twisted Josu became. That was when Josu…turned.

Water splashed into Fennel’s boot, throwing him out of the sad memories. He looked up and saw a man stumble into a puddle next to where Fennel was walking, mumbling to himself. This day can’t end soon enough.

After shaking his boots off, he looked up and saw the building with yellow lights outside it, and where the road forked off next to it.

He heard the sounds of fighting and weapons clashing as he got closer to the yellow-light building. A fight club, well that’s at least the least weird store I’ve walked by. He debated on peering into the store. It intrigued him for some reason, but he was on a timer right now.

He trekked into the side street, looking for the landmark where he was to meet the “half-elf girl with an oversized cloak.”

“Amazing description. Really helpful.”