After many years the great horde started their journey across the vast Untouched seas, unmolested by the scaled leviathans of the deep. The dragons had negotiated their safe passage, securing it in the ancient way of their kind. The serpents of the sky and sea were to be bound together once more.
- On the Cataclysm by an unknown Quassian Scholar circa 103 AC.
I was not in any immediate danger, but the monotony of life stuck behind bars, unable to enjoy the wider world, was taking its toll. I wanted to be free, but for the time being, I had to content myself with a little experimentation and training. It seemed that magical healing, as tested with rigorous exercise, could relieve the body of muscle fatigue when cast. As long as I had the Stamina, Mana, and will, I could engage in a torturous loop of self-improvement. However, it seemed that fate had other plans in store for me.
On the third day of my incarceration, instead of one of the guards, a boy just on the cusp of adulthood appeared to deliver my first meal. Exhausted after a strenuous bout of exercise, I was sitting cross-legged in the corner of my cell when the sound of the meal tray disturbed me.
As I stirred from my meditations on the nature of the state’s responsibility to the people, my eyes met his and he suddenly backed away from the bars of my cell. Short, cropped hair between a dark brown and true black, a button nose slightly set in a round face with a weak jaw, and panicked brown eyes that had opened in surprise like wide saucers. He wore a brown ill-fitting woolen tunic two sizes too big for him with large buttons made of horn, and coarse linen trousers. The overall impression was of a startled mouse surprised by a cat.
Feigning calm, I cast Identify on the boy.
Jongshoi Aigiam - Trainee Warrior (Human lvl.6)
Health: 48/48
Stamina: 22/22
Mana: 6/6
My Identify spell failed to reveal his primary attributes. However, I could discern that he likely had little in the way of Constitution despite being at a higher level than me due to his comparatively low Stamina. Perhaps he was a ‘glass cannon’ with a ridiculous amount of Strength, but I doubted it. Furthermore, having such a low amount of Mana would indicate to me that he was possibly not the sharpest tool in the shed.
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In an attempt to appear approachable, I smiled to greet him, my voice unsteady and hesitant.
“Jongshao,” I called out in a halting voice, likely butchering the language.
His eyes only opened wider, changing from surprise to fear. He cried out words of alarm, scrabbling to get as far away from me as possible. Two of the guards promptly marched to my cell. Armored in a mixture of half-plate and sturdy leathers, with mean eyes and meaner weaponry, one of them rapped loudly on the bars with an unsheathed dagger.
The message was clear with implied violence; I was to be silent and not cause trouble. I glared at the guards as they turned their backs to leave, realizing why Jongshoi had panicked. Never had I asked him for his name, and I cursed my mistake. I did not know how this culture viewed magic; perhaps he thought I was a witch who had cursed him. My cell was no longer a safe haven from the world. Suddenly, the idea of trying to make a daring escape became more appealing than waiting passively for circumstances to change.
It seemed that my unlucky encounter with Jongshoi was an omen of further misfortune. Later, despite almost bursting a blood vessel with my efforts in training, I gained no bonuses to my attributes. Perhaps this was due to the game becoming exponentially difficult as you progressed? I berated myself, realizing I could not think of this as a game. This was a world filled with all too real pain and suffering.
Pulling myself up onto the barred window ledge, I resumed my quest to learn their alien language. By the end of my session, with the help of my magical abilities and increased language ability, I could understand about seven out of ten words in spoken conversation. I was now able to demonstrate feats of learning that would have impressed even the most talented of linguists in my previous life.
The city's name was Ansan, a frontier mining town by the standards of my world, and it was famous for two things. First, the mammoth ship located in the city center. Legend had it that the ship was placed there as the waters receded after a cataclysmic event known as the "Breaking" or "Scouring."
However, it remained shrouded in mystery as to how or when this event occurred. Nowadays, the ship served as the seat of local governance for the people known in their language as the "Children of the Tides." They were originally a maritime people before the Breaking.
The second point of notoriety for the city was its burgeoning slave trade. Ansan's flesh markets, slave pits, and fighting dens were infamous among the trade caravans that frequented the city. The Children of the Tides were a martial people whose economy revolved around a constant state of war and slavery.
Outside the city, near the forest, were mines rich with ore, worked on by slaves who were brought in by the Children's never-ending wars. Marketplace rumors hinted at recent movement in the Sainba, the primordial forest to the east of the city. Strange chittering creatures had been sighted along its borders by charcoal burners who made their living at its edges, disrupting the supply of precious fuel for the mines. This had resulted in a visible increase in military patrols in the area and the air was tense, taut as a bowstring ready to be released. Straining my ears, I had also heard hushed and cryptic rumors that a local place of some religious significance had been desecrated, causing consternation among the warrior classes.
I found it odd that there was no mention of levels, attributes, experience, or magic. Were any of these subjects a local taboo?