Humans are a strange race, with nothing but wit and endurance to keep themselves alive, with not even an ounce of magic to shape the world around them, having to use inefficient machines powered by oils and thunder in order to fill this gap.
Ever since a percentage of their population has been integrated into our world, many of them have perished due to the unfamiliar terrain, creatures, and even physical laws, with magic not being a factor in their world. Only few hundred thousand surviving in cities and rogue tribes, they have trouble making any impact in their surroundings, being slaughtered by bandits and kidnapped by enthused nobles only making this all the worse.
It truly is a curse, their lack of magic is. It's not only this that makes it hard for them to live in this world, but their physiological design as well.
Humans are awkward in their form, not being designed for aquatic or arboreal travel, instead being terrestrial endurance predators with a large pallet available to them because of their omnivorous tendencies. But instead of being quadrupedal like any other dirt treading creature, they instead have a bipedal design, similar to us Aggerai, minus the tail and hair, with the exception of some being on the top of their heads and on other specific areas.
Because of these great differences, Humans have been on the receiving end of discrimination, hatred, and violence for quite some time now, with many saying they are nothing but a waste of space and that they should be removed from our realm in order to get rid of the so called nuisance.
But I believe that the hatred is unwarranted. Yes, they were not designed with this world in mind, and that causes a great deal of problems, but what they make up for in physicality they make up for in intelligence and ingenuity.
On my expeditions I have seen many cases of Human Wit, and to be frank, it scares me sometimes.
As an example, on the 12 of Spring, 178 "Man's Occurrence" I had witnessed a small party of Human mercs' hunt a Great Mud-Crab as their job for the day. In all honesty, I believed that they were going to be turned into chum due to the power difference but to my surprise, I had seen them lay out many traps just on the outside of the Great's territory, each one for a different purpose and situation.
To emphasize the sheer brilliance and number these traps were, I am only going to describe the contraption that was the cause of the Great's death in order to save both ink and paper.
To the north side of it's territory, the beast was led by a member of the group down a narrow path, once they have reached their mark, the others released a massive block of spiked wood from the top of the trees, being tied to the branches by rope.
The following result was that the crab had gained serious injuries and was trapped, but not yet dead, so they slowly and efficiently began to remove it's limbs in order to inhibit its attempted retaliations (and presumably for a meal and evidence they have done their job, Mud-Crab tastes quite good I say) and soon after planted a half dozen sticks of dynamite inside of a crate wedged right under its side and promptly detonated it, leaving nothing left of the beast.
While this may not seem like it's as clever as I'm making it out to be, I can ensure you that damn near every man, woman, and child you and I can ask will most likely just try to fight the Great head on instead of using their surroundings to their advantage and creating a preemptive strike in order to secure the kill.
In other words, I believe that Humans should be respected far more than they are now and help them survive and be our friends, instead of beating them down and have them as our enemies.
If we do not change our ways, I believe that one day in the future, we are not going to be the ones that are on top any longer, magic or no magic.
-A note on Man, and why we should respect them.
The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
By Zin Arish, A human sympathizer and political writer.
Born 10 of Summer, 115 M.O - 193 M.O
Cause of death- Natural
Published 25 of Winter, 181 M.O
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Now- 31 of Summer, 721 M.O
Everyone stared at the merc', letting him pass with both hateful and cautious eyes. The man wore a large trench coat, with it reaching to the floor and flowing slightly with the wind. Atop his head was an old officer's hat, the brim so large it was nearly comical if you didn't know who the man was. On his face was a bandana, old and colorless, it covered his face effectively, only allowing his eyes to be seen. Even then, they were hidden from the shadow from his cap.
"... A Human..."
"Ripped the man to shreds they say..."
"... Nothing but his hands..."
"... To shreds you say?"
"... Crossbowman..."
"Explosive harpoons..."
" An Iron boat..."
"... Presence ..."
All these whispers came from Dain's surrounding crowd, each and every word falling through him without acknowledgement, thought, or understanding. Ever since his mind had become silent, the only words he comprehended were Ellix's, since he was his job provider and he couldn't exactly do what needed to be done if he didn't know what to do. Everyone else, though? Their words didn't matter. They never did. To him, they were only noise.
As he neared the dock, the crowd gave way, allowing his eyes to peer to his boat.
He doesn't remember when or even how he got the expensive piece. To him, one day he didn't have it, and the next day he did.
It was a good size, the boat. Allowing it to fit into some of the more narrow passes while letting have some heft of its own in order to survive some tougher blows. Near the hindquarters, a mounted high powered harpoon gun was placed, slightly elevated from the hull and with full 360 degree rotation.
Both starboard and port had thick 1 1/2 inch thick iron plates to block any harpoon, arrow, and bolt strikes, and it even had some slight magic resistance due to the rare metal's properties properties.
The bow sported a large, sharp spike and a few rough plates in order the make ramming anything just a bit easier.
Right below the stern was something called a "Self Sufficient Mana Propeller" which allowed thrust to the boat without the need of sails, and as the name implies, it doesn't need to be refueled annually with mana, doing so by itself with no need of interaction.
At the starboard side were two boxes, one filled with harpoons, and the other with a handful of dynamite.
Before he walked forth anymore, he checked his supplies, as he did every time he went on a hunt.
'Crossbow, check.
Bolts, check.
Satchel of throwing knives, check.
Hunting knife, check.
Bandages, check.
Alcohol, check.
Mace, check.'
He stopped at the harpoon hoisted on his back. The blade was modified to be longer and sharper, the shaft turned into a hilt with leather and cloth straps giving it a grip.
'Thea, check.'
Finished with his task he walked onto the boat, he untied the rope and stepped forward to the wheel. With a flick to the switch, the propeller hummed and started to spin.
The water churned calmly as it ever and always has, the rocking of the ship began to become hypnotic the longer Dain felt it, falling into a trance as the boat began to speed up and his subconscious state to bring him to his location.
Dain didn't know how much time had passed between then and now. The silence of the wetlands and the rays of the sun passing through the canopy having an odd, serene beauty to it that put him to ease. That is, until he spotted the bandit vessel at the far side of the lake he was currently crossing, not even bothering to hide the fact that they were coming his way.
He could see it in their eyes, the savagery, desperateness, and bloodlust rolled up into one hideous package.
They were about 5 strong, being entirely made up of Aggerai, obviously, since they are poor swimmers and all that. They all had matted fur, poorly taken care of fur with one of them seemingly completely overtaken with mange. They all had bows, spears, and rudimentary armor, with one them, the one with mange, having a large axe at his hip. Most likely the leader of the group.
The fact they they weren't avoiding him completely showed that they obviously didn't know who he was.
He stopped the propeller and let the boat slow down until it was still. He then walked up to the harpoon gun and loaded the harpoon, this one with a stick of dynamite attached, and lit the fuse. After a moment, he pulled the trigger and the harpoon was launched, hitting the top half of the hull right between their leader and his crew.
Before they even had the chance to panic, the fuse reached its end and the boat was no more, with the bandits now torn to pieces, being a problem no longer.
Dain walked back to the wheel as calm as ever and switched the switch, letting himself be entranced in the beauty once more.