The city of Revea has eight spokes and each slopes gradually towards its center. In the main square, men foist themselves onto the strangest collection of beasts, not only horses, but ostriches, rhinos, and even sedate bears. The stables encircle the main square, which is pungent and unfit for the market stalls along its edge. Each morning, the crowds gather and the city slowly transforms into a great and rowdy stadium.
As the afternoon sun peaks and the flags are drawn up in each of the quadrants of the city, the fans clamor for the best rooftop in town. A plume of reddish orange smoke rises from a kiosk at the center square and a race of the most curious, strange and gaudy beasts begins. Elephants, crocodiles, horses, and apes jockeyed by young boys race through the streets of the city and as the dust clears, there follows a group of the most boisterous and drunken fools imaginable. The city roils and dust clouds blind the animals spiraling the city.
At the race’s end, the townsfolk convene in the main square to collect the fruits of their gambling, brawling lazily at the slightest insult as the sun sets. The jockeys feast (or sulk) as young girls fawn over the victors. The beasts roam free, reigning their strength with meat and drink, or else lying dead from the harsh whips of despairing losers.
Some cities are so perfectly laid out for their games and festivals that it seems that each street and building was built for that purpose. Perhaps Revea was a stadium before it was a city, and that one day, too drunk and tired to head home to their villages, the fanatics simply stayed to make their lives in the bleachers and the grandstands.