Lumumba, Amara, and Jon rode slowly through the bustling streets of the Northern Kingdom's capital, their eyes absorbing every detail of the new environment. The kingdom was as cold and rugged as its landscape, but the people were a stark contrast—tough, loud, and more than a little intimidating. The capital itself was a city of sharp contrasts: towering stone fortresses rose above humble, smoke-filled huts, and the streets were lined with massive war machines, part mechanical, part magical, standing ready for battle.
"I've got to admit, this place knows how to make a first impression," Jon muttered, trying to keep his eyes from darting nervously between the towering guards patrolling the streets.
"Yeah, I'll give them that," Lumumba replied with a smirk. "It's like they're compensating for something. All this muscle and no charm."
Amara shot him a sideways glance. "Try not to provoke anyone. We're here to gather information, not start a war."
"No promises," Lumumba said casually, clearly enjoying the tension in the air.
As they moved deeper into the city, they noticed that the population was diverse—orcish warriors, dwarven blacksmiths, and elven traders all coexisted with humans in a strange, uneasy harmony. The city was a hub of trade, and it seemed like every race from every corner of the world had some presence here. But despite the outward mix, there was a clear division. The wealthy and the military elite—high-caste Northerners—stayed in the upper city, while the lower-caste citizens and laborers lived closer to the ground, near the factories and workshops that powered the kingdom's war machines.
"Looks like this place runs on both sweat and blood," Lumumba remarked. "Typical. The ones in the castles play war games while the rest break their backs to keep it all going."
Amara nodded. "It's worse than we thought. The power structure here is rigid. The noble families control everything—commerce, military, politics. They'll be hard to shake."
"Then let's make them dance a little," Lumumba grinned.
The group soon arrived at the main market, a massive square filled with stalls selling everything from rare weapons to exotic food. As they wandered through the crowd, a voice called out to them.
"Oi!" came a booming voice from a nearby stall.
Lumumba turned to see a large, muscular man sitting casually on a barrel, eating what looked like an entire roasted chicken. His hair was wild, and his clothes—thick fur and leather armor—made him look like he'd just walked out of a battle in the mountains. The man waved at them with a grin that seemed a little too friendly for someone in a city like this.
"You lot look lost. First time in the North, eh?" he said, tossing a chicken bone aside and standing up. He towered over Lumumba and his companions, his presence almost absurd in its raw physicality.
"Not lost, just… sightseeing," Lumumba answered, eyeing the man up and down.
The large man chuckled. "Sightseeing? In a city like this? Not much to see unless you like stone walls and angry people. Name's William," he said, extending a hand the size of a dinner plate. "Welcome to the North."
Lumumba shook his hand, impressed by the sheer force of the man's grip. "Lumumba," he replied, then gestured to his companions. "Amara, Jon."
William nodded, giving them all a broad smile. "Good to meet you. So, what brings you to this frozen paradise? Trade? Trouble? Or just trying to stay out of the cold?"
"Little bit of all three," Lumumba answered, still sizing up William. "You seem pretty at home here. You from around these parts?"
William shrugged. "Born and raised. Barbarian stock, if you couldn't tell," he said with a grin, flexing one of his massive arms. "I'm a fighter, mostly. Get paid to crack heads when the nobles need someone to remind the peasants of their place. You know how it is."
Lumumba raised an eyebrow. "Cracking heads for the nobles, huh? Sounds like a fun gig. How does it pay?"
William laughed. "Enough to eat and drink all I want. And that's a lot. What about you? You don't look like traders, and you're definitely not locals. What's your game?"
Before Lumumba could answer, William's grin turned mischievous, and he leaned in closer. "Wait, I got it. I bet you're here for the women, right? You've heard about our Northern ladies—tough as nails but with curves that could make a man forget his sword."
Jon blinked, surprised by the turn in conversation, while Amara crossed her arms, unimpressed. Lumumba, on the other hand, smirked.
"Well, if you put it like that... depends. You asking if I'm a boobs or butt guy?"
William laughed loudly, slapping Lumumba on the back. "Exactly! So?"
Lumumba rubbed his chin thoughtfully, as if considering the question seriously. "See, here's my theory. Butt." He paused, enjoying the ridiculousness of the situation. "Because… it's got utility, you know? But hey, I'm not picky. Women have their charms in all kinds of ways."
William roared with laughter, clearly enjoying the answer. "You've got a good head on your shoulders, Lumumba. Maybe I'll buy you a drink. You seem like the kind of guy who knows how to have fun."
Amara rolled her eyes. "Great. Just what we need. Another you."
Jon tried to hold back his laughter but failed. "Well, at least we know he's friendly."
Lumumba shrugged. "Friendly's good. For now."
As the day wore on, William stuck with the group, acting as a guide of sorts through the city. He showed them around, cracking jokes and telling wild stories about his battles in the mountains. He was the kind of guy who drew attention wherever he went—loud, brash, and unapologetically himself. But despite his carefree attitude, Lumumba couldn't help but notice something else about him. He wasn't just a random guy in the city. He knew too much—about the nobles, about the way the city operated. And there was something about the way people looked at him, a respect—or maybe fear—that hinted at a deeper role in the city's power structure.
At one point, while they were walking through the more upscale part of the city, William lowered his voice. "You know, this place? It's not all it seems. The nobles here? They're wrapped up in stuff that'd make your head spin. I'd stay out of their way if I were you."
Lumumba raised an eyebrow. "Why? You make it sound like they're more than just fat rich guys counting coins."
William gave him a serious look, the first sign of real gravity in his expression. "They are. Trust me, there's a lot going on that you don't want to be a part of."
"Is that right?" Lumumba replied, filing the information away for later. "Guess we'll see."
Later that evening, after they parted ways with William, Amara turned to Lumumba. "There's something off about him."
Lumumba nodded. "Yeah. He's hiding something. But for now, he's useful."
Jon, still chuckling from earlier, added, "He's like your long-lost twin. If you were built like a mountain and had no filter."
Lumumba smirked. "We'll keep an eye on him. He might be useful, or he might just lead us into trouble. Either way, he's worth keeping around—for now."