“Uh, is there a problem, sir?” I breathed out while trying to edge away from the man. He held me steady.
“You tell me, boy. I’ve had my eye on you for the past hour and you’ve been nothing but suspicious. Creeping around the bazaar, weaseling your way around people’s wastes, creeping through alleys, prancing around high as a cloud through these streets. I didn’t see what you stole but I saw enough to know you got your mitts on something and pawned it off for some grum grass. What are you, ten years old? Not even? Shameful.”
I was shocked by his malice, but also relieved that he wasn’t trying to mug me. As my conscience was clean, I struggled to formulate a response, “I, uh, I’m new to the area and was just exploring a bit. I didn’t steal anyth-“
“ALL RIGHT, that’s enough out of you,” squarejaw curlyhair interrupted, “If you’re as innocent as you say I’ll bring you in for an inquisition. You’re under arrest. Move.” His hand on my shoulder shoved me forward as he began leading me through the streets of Edgewood.
He perp-walked me along the dirty path between shacks along the way I had come. What is happening?! Why is this happening? I was working up a nervous sweat, my head was in a tizzy with anxiety, not knowing what to do. What is an inquisition? How deep in trouble am I? Holy flip. I began considering my options. I felt like I really needed some information and security; public guardians like the police would be where I’d go - usually. I was already associated with one criminal organization, albeit somewhat unwillingly. I was also a Vagrant, whatever that entailed. I didn’t think running from the police was a good idea, especially with my short stature, but I sure as heck didn’t feel very safe with this curly-haired copper.
“Uuh. You're like a police officer, right? A guardsman? Maybe you could help me out. I have a few questions about this voice I’m hearing. What is a Vagrant? Also what exactly is an inquisition? I didn’t steal anything, really. I was just browsing” I sounded suspicious even to myself.
The guard laughed loudly and annoyingly, “Ha! You say you’re a Vagrant that hasn’t stolen anything? Well I’m a Champion of knitting pretty hats. The name’s Gordon, proud member of Aegis of Kar’Anan, or city guard to you lowlifes. The Inquisition will lay your sins bare for all to see. Now move those little legs, boy!” He said as he prodded me forward. I was not comforted by his reply.
We skirted around the bazaar, avoiding the thinning crowd of shoppers. The guard didn’t let me out of arm’s reach as he led me towards Karanan proper, where the dirt-trailed road gave way to cracked and dusty cobblestones and the tents and shacks gave way to brick and wood houses. The smell of urine was beginning to fade but I was too nervous to be appreciative. There were less people about during late morning, most people had assumedly settled into their work. My eyes darted around for an out, for help, for answers. I was getting close to just submitting to my fate. If an inquisition ‘laid my sins bare’ all they’d find was some questionable sites on my computer’s browser's history. I have nothing to be afraid of! I told myself, trying to force the belief.
We outpaced a horse-drawn wagon full of bricks and building material that was being unloaded at an empty lot between buildings. A mother was herding her children in the opposite direction; I caught her giving me a look as they passed with a wide berth. I saw a ragtag trio hauling bulging packs and covered in dirty and dented armor walking wearily in the same direction as we were before turning down a side street. A runner seemed to teleport forward with every step. I gawked a bit.
“Double step. Standard skill requirement for Workers going for the Courier profession. But you wouldn’t know anything about honest work would you, Vagrant.” It was not a question but a condemnation. This body is flipping twelve or something! Honest work your face!
“Is it that bad to be a Vagrant? I didn’t choose to be one, you know, it just sort of happened after I came here”.
“No one chooses Vagrancy, boy. They’re cursed into the class by the One True God for turning their back on His teachings, same as those grimy greenskin Peons. Vagrants level slower than other starting classes. They level by doing Vagrant things. Stealing, scavenging, begging, fighting, and just making trouble in general. Blasphemous things that insult the One,” he spat out venomously and I shrunk in on myself at the tone.
Vagrants level slower and only gain experience by doing Vagrant things? How was I gaining experience before? I was just walking along innocently. Maybe the Gordon stalking me was enough to gain a few points; Vagrants level by evading the law, I’m sure. I decided to see if I could get more info.
“Is there a way to… repent to the One God and stop being a Vagrant?” Levels seemed pretty essential to my survival and I didn’t want this negatively viewed class that inhibited growth. “I don’t really mean to… disrespect the One True g- God”. I stumbled over the term, trying to make it not sound sarcastic or distasteful. This guy spoke it with zeal, with meaning. I spoke it like something I just learned about.
Gordon paused in his prodding and surveyed me for a minute. He shrugged, reluctantly considering. “I wouldn’t know the details. Most people are born a Citizen, some lucky ones a Gentry. Those out in the boonies get Villager. My boss could point you in the right direction, if the Inquisition clears you. Come on, boy, let’s keep go-”
Someone threw a Dagger at him before he could continue leading me forward. I stared. Gordon stared. Dagger stumbled as he got up, a mug in his hand with liquid that was surprisingly unspilled and a rose sheen in his face. He shouted at the establishment he was thrown from, “DAMN RUDE PEOPLE IN THERE. Is that how you treat a customer? RIK’S PUB IS THE PITS. THE PITS!” Dagger nonchalantly sidestepped a chair that flew out of the door of said pub from which nondescript cursing could be heard. As he turned to strut away, Dagger paused mid step as he spotted Gordon and I and did a double take.
“Daaa- d?” I stumbled over his name, not sure if calling him Dagger would have negative ramifications regarding the law-keeping compatriot that was standing adjacent to me.
Now Dagger looked as surprised as we did as he registered what I had just called him, “Wha?”
Gordon recovered from his stupefaction and recalled that he was on duty as an honored guardsman of the One’s True City. “Hold! What kind of trouble are you on about here? Kid, this man is your father? Undoubtedly, the parfin doesn’t fall far from the parfin bush. You both are under arrest! Put your hands behind your back.” He drew a pair of leather binders and made to arrest Dagger.
Dagger’s eyes went from the binds, the symbol on Gordon’s chestplate, to me. He said, “I’m glad you’re making friends, kid, but daddy doesn’t have time to play. Work to be done, drinks to be drank, mayhem to be raised. Praise be to the One, for that is as high as He can count,” he tipped a non-existent hat and dashed away. Cursing, Gordon was about to chase him down before he looked back at me. I could see the gears turning in his well insulated brain. He looked after Dagger and could no longer spot him amongst the pedestrians. How’d he do that?
“That was your father? What was he doing?” he asked.
“Uuuuh. Sure. Yep. Yes. That was my father. And I don’t know what he was doing. ‘Working’ hard, I’m sure. Doing something completely lawful and wholesome,” I responded, recovering from my stupefaction slowly. Great, one of the few people I’ve met since coming to this world got me in worse trouble than I was already in. He just bailed on me!
“Yeah, well I’ll be doing a full investigation into this matter, you mark me. Rik’s pub is one of my favorites and I’ll be damned if there’s any harassing going on there. Lets keep going, we’re almost at the department”
Gordon continued to lead me down a couple of more streets before the world suddenly became a little darker. We looked around confusedly before looking up, coming face to face with a giant. It was Brute, who had just walked out of a side street while wiping his hands on a suspiciously red-brown stained kerchief and was inadvertently looming. Both Gordon and I took a step back.
“Hi Brrrr- other?” Cringing at my social awkwardness, I realized what I was saying halfway through saying it but I was too far gone to stop. It’s happening again! Why?!
Brute paused in his hand wiping to consider us both, taking in Gordon’s symbolized chestpiece. Gordon’s gaze alternated between me and the small giant that was almost twice my height and probably four times my weight, noticing his grey hair and still stained hands. “This is your… brother?” he asked.
“Y-Yes? Yes. I mean, I call him brother. Y’know, cause he’s my bro. Tight as thugs. I mean not that we’re actually thugs or anything. It’s like a subculture, completely harmless. Mostly. He’s uuh, actually my uncle, or something. Right Bru- Brother?”
I was impressed at Brute’s impassivity as I rambled myself further into my grave. Stoic as a rock. “Where are you taking my brother, officer?” Oh snap, am I about to be saved?
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“This rat was loitering, thieving, fencing, and stuffing himself full of grom-”
“Did you see him take anything?” Brute inquired calmly and softly, but his deep voice was piercing and overbearing and left no room for maneuvering. He took a step forward.
Gordon was simply outclassed in intimidation factor but he didn’t give way. With sweat on his brow and knuckles white from squeezing the baton at his side, he held his ground, “I don’t need to see him take anything. He’s a rat, a Vagrant. That’s what they do. And I’m Aegis, the shield of the One’s True People. I’m taking him to the inquisitor, where he’ll be processed as appropriate”
Brute leveled his cold grey gaze at Gordon. I saw Brute’s jaw clench and I swallowed hard. Now what?
Brute switched his gaze to me, “You do anything?”
“Nope”
“Then I’ll see you home for supper”. He clapped a big hand on my shoulder as he walked by, making my knees almost buckle.
Gordon and I just kind of stared as Brute left; his head was visible over other pedestrians for quite a while before he disappeared around a building, breaking our trance.
“Some interesting people you have in your life, kid”.
“It’s Henry,” I said.
“What is?”
“My name. Stop calling me kid”
“But you are a kid”
“A kid with a name”
“A Vagrant is all you’ll ever be. No need for a name,” and he shoved me onward.
Wow, forget this guy. Brute should’ve punched his lights out. I was normally very non-confrontational and tolerant but I was starting to absolutely dislike this guy. Brute abandoned me too, I thought, feeling a spike or hurt and sadness. Flip. I guess I can only count on my innocence and the intrinsic goodhearted nature of people to help me through this. Yeah right. I’m boned. I’m probably going to get thrown in some prison somewhere and waste away. Oh flip, do they have the death penalty here? Am I going to get hanged? I kind of trusted Brute; he went out of his way to ‘fix’ my head when I had just met him. He seemed like a good guy. Maybe things will turn out alright. He said he’d see me for dinner, after all.
We arrived outside a fairly large building with offwhite stone and grecian pillars framing the alcove holding a large double doored entrance. We stepped up the few stairs leading to the entrance and I noted pedigree symbol emblazoned on a shield above the door frame. Underneath the shield were bronze stylized letters in English, ‘One for all; All for One’.
Are you serious?! I shouted in my mind, flabbergasted. I didn’t have the time to ruminate on the ramifications of the use of English letters or the familiar proverb before I was ushered into the building. We passed through stone halls with closed doors and the stupid curlyhaired goof led me to the stairs leading down that was hidden behind the grand ascending staircase in the center of the hall. They’re leading me to the dungeon, aren’t they? Yes they are. Bad things are going to happen down there, aren’t they? Yes they are.
We passed another guard sitting on a wooden chair, his head down in a book. He spared me a glance and all I saw were the huge bags under his eyes. Maybe if he falls asleep I can escape.
“General Vagrancy. Here to see the Inquisitor,” Gord’ reported.
“Mm,” the reading guard grunted his assent absentmindedly, “‘Few waiting to see ‘er. ‘Put him in“.
Passed the reading guard was indeed somewhat of a dungeon; a long hall lined with metal grate doors. I heard snoring from one cell and quiet giggling from another. Gord’ unceremoniously opened the closest gated, shoved me in, closed and locked it, and left without even turning to look at me. I felt less than worthless.
Looking around the cell, I noted the typical amenities: a bucket and a filthy blanket (is that supposed to be a bed?). It stunk. I looked into the bucket and indeed, it seemed that it was not properly emptied from its previous use. I was surprised to not find any visible bugs. This room reminded me of the seclusion rooms we had on the psych wards at the hospital I worked at, except less sterile and less graffiti.
THIS SUCKS. This sucks so flipping much! Oh my gosh. I flopped onto the least grimy corner of the room and curled up my arms around my knees. What happened to flying in the clouds and cultivating to immortality? What happened to my buxom harem of various fantasy species (I’d settle for just one quality lady, let’s be honest here)? What happened to the idealistic slice-of-life story where I’d build a farm or invent medicine or something? This sucks. I was shaking I was just so distressed. It’d be pretty funny if I had a cellphone right now. Selfie #inadungeon. #gongetgone. What else? Oh I don’t know. Cmon, status, where’s my overpowered cheat?
Henry Stone
Vagrant 0 (38%); Vagrant* 11 (9%)
STA: 40
WIS: 15
Robust Digestion
Enhanced Immunity
No change. Nothing. Being able to digest things better and not getting sick from all the weird microbes in the world wouldn’t help me here. How hard is leveling again? I cringed at the thought of getting down on the floor to do pushups and decided to try some bodyweight squats while spamming experience in my head. One, two, three… ten, eleven twelve… twenty three. Ha! XP went up by one.
Experience: 43/100; 3170/3572
That’s only… like fifty seven times twenty three more squats to go! Like a thousand or something. I have 40 STA, I can do this! I started squatting like my life depended on it. ONE, TWO, THREE… I kept my breathing smooth and regular and got up to a hundred before I had to take a break, breathing hard, my legs feeling a bit tired but not overly so.
Experience: 47/100; 3170/3572
Can I get a training montage now? Flip it, I have that enhanced immunity. I’m gonna do some pushups. I want to figure out what happens if I level up. ONE, TWO, THREE… I trembled out thirteen pushups, which I was quite impressed with considering my spaghetti noodle arms. XP ticked up by one again as I sat in my corner breathing. And I went again. Squats to 100, thirteen pushups.
Experience: 54/100; 3170/3572
I was breathing harder now, my chest and legs feeling wobbly. What am I doing? I shook my head, trying to clear my mind, and gently brought my head back to bump on the filthy wall of my cell. Distracting myself from this situation. I took a few deep breaths to settle myself. I knew that whatever was going to happen was out of my control, but I was so emotionally charged and jittery that I doubted I could make the best decision in the situation. I didn’t know how much time I had before I was going to be brought for ‘inquisition’. I was beginning to get hungry.
I decided to try meditating, like they had us do in my yoga classes. Sitting cross legged, back propped against the wall for support, hands on my knees. Exhale; relaxing every muscle in my body, inhale; feel sensations of the moment; exhale; the ground is pressing against my butt and legs, inhale; the wall is pressing against my back. Inhale; exhale. The smell makes my nose itch and eyes water. Inhale; exhale. The giggling laughter sounds a bit like sobbing. Inhale; exhale. Inhale; exhale. Inhale; exhale.
…
I was startled when the metal cage door was loudly opened. I must have drifted off to sleep while meditating. I gingerly got out of my seated position, wincing at my stiff body, and turned to face my fate. The sleepy guard ushered me out of the cell where I encountered someone new waiting for me.
A ghost of a woman was haunting the corridor. Tall, thin, pale, with a strict face that bordered on middle age, dark hair pulled back in a bun. She wore a grey robe crisscrossed with black strips forming a hint of that pedigree symbol down the front. She seemed like an interesting person, and despite my anxiety, I felt drawn to her.
She met my eyes and smiled genuinely and I felt myself relax. She seemed like someone like I could trust, someone that could actually help me instead of inducting me into a criminal organization then abandoning me.
“Alexandra Ranvald. I will be your Inquisitor for today. Please follow me to my office.”
She turned and led me away. I hurried after her, surprised at the lax security before noticing another slender woman in darker clothing trailing behind remaining nondescript despite the sword at her hip, far enough away as to avoid initial notice but close enough to still poke me with the pointy end of that thing.
I turned my attention back to the more intriguing Inquisitor. Her robe covered any discernible curve and left everything to the imagination. She wasn’t really my type anyway. She more so commanded a presence demanding respect. I felt the same way about some of the more distinguished college professors, but this Alexandra seemed more real and approachable and she-
The door closed behind us as I found myself seated in a hard wooden chair in a bare stone room. The decor here really sucks. When did we even get here? Was not paying attention. I still think we’re on the ground floor. Alexandra sat across a simple table from me, fixing her gaze at me with a smile still playing at her lips.
“I understand you’re probably scared and confused about this whole thing,” she gestured vaguely with a hand. “If it reassures you at all, this whole process is largely bureaucratic. As the will of the One demands. You’re not in any trouble, unless you are trouble. And you’re definitely not trouble, are you, dear?”
“N-no ma’am”.
“Just Alexandra, please. I will have to ask you a few questions and that will be all. What is your name?”
“Henry Stone”
She raised an eyebrow, “Stone? Do you have a citizenship identification or an address of residence perchance?”
“N-no,” dammit why can’t I talk straight. She’s so nice, I just want to be helpful. “I, uh, live in a shack in Edgewood?”
Her eyes sharpened as she stared at me. “Do you? You sound unsure.”
“I’m, uh, new to the area.”
“I see. Where did you reside before this shack?”
“Uh,” I paused and considered how to answer that question. I didn’t want to lie, especially since Alexandra seemed so nice and willing to help. But I couldn’t rightly say I just popped into this body from another world, could I? That would be ridiculous. “I’m from Toronto”.
She furrowed her brow and tapped a finger on her chin. “Toronto. Toronto. I’m not familiar with it. It must be quite the small hamlet to not be in the kingdom’s registry. And with a name like Stone I’d assume relation to one of the larger mining outposts. Where is Toronto exactly? How many inhabitants does it have?”
Her questions were getting complicated. “I don’t know where it is,” with respect to where I am now anyways. “And there were quite a few people in it” like several million which probably dwarfs anything here based on the technological level I’ve seen. I was beginning to get a clearer head and gain confidence with these questions. This was like a test. Short answer or multiple choice. And I always aced every test back in school.
“Hmm. Well Henry, can you tell me what brought you to Kar’Anan? Are you here with your parents?”
About time you asked about my parents. This is child abuse. I want to see my lawyer! “I’m here with my dad and brother. I just want to learn a lot and, uh, become strong. To serve the One. '' There, that sounded sufficiently plausible and ass-kissy towards this popular deity.
Alexandra’s face remained impassive, the smile still pasted on her lips, “Quite noble of you. Truly an exemplary citizen, a Kar’oman after my own heart. It begs the question how such a prodigal child wound up as a Vagrant?”