Julian watched as the elf spoke from her raised dais to the restless crowd. She squinted into the sunrise, large green eyes visibly reflecting the light even from halfway across the courtyard. Baggy silken scarlet robes trimmed in gold gave her the look of a cult leader, but her hood was down with ears on prominent display. She spoke almost brightly but with a slight strain, as if she were struggling to maintain the upbeat tone she projected. While her words were alien, he could somehow understand them.
“You have many questions. That is normal; I will not be able to answer most of them. What I can tell you I will tell you now. Whatever world you were from, it was devoured by the Void. An armageddon without rebirth, the Void is the enemy our entire world is designed to train you to battle.
“Speaking of our world, you have been brought to the world of Orith. We are governed by The System, a divine framework of numbers and Skills to foster growth in its people, so that we might gain sufficient power to battle the Void and prevent the destruction of our world. So far, we have been successful.”
Julian, like many others in the agitated crowd, tried to speak, to shout out questions as the elven woman continued. He found his voice somehow disabled, and as he fled to the edge of the courtyard, apprehensive of remaining in the center of an angry mob, he felt he was moving through a thick jelly, though his breathing and senses were unimpeded. While he made his way ever-so-slowly through the pressing bodies, the elven woman continued in her bright yet serious tone.
“I cannot tell you much of the Void, other than that the greatest among us do battle with it daily. My power is nearly nothing in this world; I am here today because the System grants rewards for introducing newcomers such as yourselves. Which leads me to where we are now.
“We are in the Town of Beginnings. This is a System-designated safe zone, which you cannot remain inside of for more than a day without official business. At dawn tomorrow, if you have not left, a magical force will expel you from the zone. Before then, you need to be ready.
“Immediately surrounding the safe zone is a series of slum-,” she hesitated, before correcting herself with a slight grimace, “...suburbs where the most risk-averse spend their lives, scraping by on an economy propped up by the coin the System generates for new arrivals. It is possibly the safest place in Orith to live, as none of the truly terrifying monsters spawn this close to the core of our world’s power, but that safety comes at the cost of progression. I recommend you take the risk to gain greater power, but it’s not a decision anyone can make for you. If you intend to stay, don’t spend your starting coin; you’ll need it.
“If you decide you wish to grow, the path to power lies outward. The further you get from the Town of Beginnings, the stronger the monsters become. It is my understanding that eventually you will encounter Void-touched beasts and discover the secrets of Ascension, but that is all well beyond me.
“Soon, I shall release you from my control spell. At that point, you will be given a pack, starting weapon, basic travel gear, and a few copper pieces. You can remain to ask me questions or you can go. I wish you luck; our world is brutal, but much more fair than many I’ve heard of. Anyone can gain true power here, all it takes is work and risk. Good hunting.”
With that, the elf dropped her arms, and Julian felt the jelly-like air relax. He was glad to be on the edge of the crowd, because there was immediate chaos within it. The elf interfered before anyone could be trampled, but it would have been impossible to get where he wanted to be in a reasonable time. As it was, he had easy access to one of several dozen red-robed people of various features gesturing to the crowd with backpacks in hand.
Approaching the nearest one, Julian met a tall woman with red scales which reflected a rainbow where the sunlight touched them directly. Her clawed feet stuck out of the bottom of her robes by almost two feet, contrasting the bodies of those around her which were almost completely covered up. Her hands, or foreclaws, similarly stuck out the arms of her robes by much further than he would have expected. Her draconian face broke into a warm smile at his approach, and she spoke.
“Welcome, newcomer. I hope this gear will fare you well until you can replace it. You’ll get a backpack, a dagger, general survival supplies, and a weapon of your choice from the table in front of you, in addition to ten copper pieces. Unfortunately, I am only allowed to answer questions related to the gear you are receiving. Please call my name, Saldria, if you need anything.”
Saldria spoke in a clear and polite customer service voice. Considering the emotions he, as well as the rest of the crowd, was feeling, it was no-wonder she was emotionally detached; angry customers are bad enough without a good reason for their anger, and being displaced from their world was certainly a good reason to be angry in Julian’s view. Regardless, he made the decision to grab his gear and get going as quickly as possible; information could be picked up later, but if his understanding was correct the entire population of Earth would be showing up here, so it was best to get ahead of them.
Looking over the weapons, Julian saw a pretty standard array for a medieval fantasy setting. Swords, axes, hammers, spears, bows; there wasn’t anything he was familiar with that was not present. With little hesitation he picked out the spear, only stopping to confirm that its behavior wasn’t below that of a sword due to the System; fortunately, Saldria clarified that a spear would have all the same advantages within the System as it possessed without, so spears and other polearms were certainly preferred primary weapons, and even with a Skill they often outperformed other options as primary battlefield armaments.
He gave his pack a quick search before moving out of the courtyard. It contained his ten copper pieces, a dagger with a sheath that he strapped to his waist using his newly-discovered leather belt, a sleeping roll, cooking utensils and a fire kit, and a first aid kit with a single potion and several bandages. In his right hand he carried his new spear. Julian was quite happy with the pack, and decided to get moving as quickly as possible, before too many others in the crowd got the same idea as he.
Picking a direction based entirely on gut feeling, Julian headed in what he believed was north based on the position of the sun. The safe zone seemed to be composed almost entirely of courtyards like the one he appeared in, and more people were coming in constantly. Every time a group cleared out of a courtyard, there was a flash of light, before more people appeared and the welcome process began again. He walked for hours along a stone pathway with little changing around him, until he reached a small field of grass. Across the field, there was finally some variety; dozens of buildings, mostly wood and thatch, of all shapes and sizes were visible far into the distance and out of his sight range. People dressed in a panoply of styles wandered about, bartering and yelling, and with a deep breath Julian left the safe zone to join them.
Leaving the safe zone was a strange experience; Julian could feel the sense of safety leaving him, followed quickly by a ball of stress forming in his gut. As he made his way into the crowd on the other side, he watched them apprehensively while adjusting his weapons so he could more easily draw the dagger should it be needed. The crowd jostled and pushed, and his brisk walk slowed to a crawl as he tried to make his way through.
Hours passed in this hellscape of humanity, before Julian noticed the light fading from the sky. There was still no end in sight, so he began to seek somewhere to stay for the night. Much like earlier, he could tell those he asked for directions were speaking languages alien to him, but it remained comprehensible. Eventually a skinny man with a slightly shaggy beard and hair offered to guide Julian to an inn, and with some hesitation Julian thanked the man and followed.
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Julian was quickly led down an alley between buildings, and before they were even fully out of sight of the road the guide pivoted in place. Dull metal barely reflected the moonlight as it arced for Julian’s face, and he lept back, taking a shallow slice across his chest instead. Superficial the damage might have been, but it hurt, and Julian’s adrenaline surged as his vision narrowed. Thinking quickly, he took advantage of the space he had made between them in his leap backward, brandishing his spear. Before Julian could fully process the confrontation and what he wished to do, the man charged in, and Julian stabbed forward.
The spear caught his guide just below the right pectoral, stopping the charge. With a cry, the mugger tore himself off the spear while shoving it forward. Julian just barely managed to keep hold of the shaft, but while he was distracted the man closed the distance and tackled him to the ground, sending the spear clattering up the alley. Fresh fire burned his side as Julian was impaled by the dagger, and his first attempt to grab his attacker’s wrists failed utterly, resulting in a second stab. He managed to stop the third short of becoming another proper attack, only taking superficial damage to his outer flesh as he wrestled his attacker for control of the knife.
While Julian was not weak, he could not gain control of the dagger. Just barely holding it off, with multiple shallow wounds dotting his face and chest, he attempted to trap his opponent's foot to buck him off. The endeavor was only partially successful, but it was enough. His assailant fell to the side, and Julian managed to kick free of the man’s legs, scrambling to his feet.
As the guide was beginning to stand, his face was met by Julian’s boot. While his assailant was momentarily stunned, Julian followed the attack with another kick straight to the temple. The man collapsed to the ground, and with the extra time his assault had bought him, Julian pulled out his dagger. He began raining slashes down on his assailant’s neck and head as quickly as he could, knowing his lack of skill and a dagger’s small size meant no single attack was likely to finish the man off.
Arms finally appeared to ward off Julian’s blows after the second or third strike, but they did little to change the man’s fate. Dozens of strikes rained down, shredding the man’s arms before ravaging his throat. Eventually Julian’s tunnel-vision faded slightly, and he stopped attacking the corpse. The scene was brutal, but in the moonlight the easiest detail to notice was that the mugger’s shirt had been reduced to little more than blood-stained scraps, though Julian’s wasn’t faring much better.
The sound of stomping boots behind him drew Julian’s attention to a pair of humans entering the alley. Two women, each wearing suits of chainmail topped by simple faceless helmets, entered the alley with drawn weapons. A deep breath was followed by hawking spit as the taller of the two women cursed.
“Fucking hell of a smell in here. Looks like Jasper finally bit off more than ‘e could chew. ‘Ey you, new arrival, thanks for cleaning up the trash. We’ll need you to come with us, ask a couple questions and make some introductions.”
While the taller woman spoke, the shorter of the pair approached Julian and tore his shirt apart, before packing the scraps into his most significant wounds and wrapping them with a longer strip torn from Jasper’s clothing. Then, she tossed Jasper’s corpse over her shoulder, hardly reacting to the weight or blood, before walking out of the alley ahead of the taller woman, who was watching Julian patiently. Slightly dazed but overall less bothered than one might have expected after killing his first human, Julian mechanically picked up his spear and the fallen daggers, before following what he assumed were guards out of the alley.
They moved quickly through the nighttime streets; pedestrians moved expediently out of the way at the sight of his escorts and their cargo. Julian didn’t try to make small talk, entirely immersed in his own mind attempting to process what he felt at the murder he just committed. In the end, after a couple minutes of walking, he realized he didn’t truly care; most of the negative emotions he was experiencing, such as guilt, were more in response to his lack of guilt or remorse than to the deed itself. While he knew that would be concerning in a more gentle world, the guards’ reaction to the situation, like it was perfectly normal, indicated his cold nature would serve him well in this world. Unfortunately, without existential and moral dilemmas to distract him, Julian had to consciously address the excruciating physical pain accompanying his wounds since his adrenaline had faded.
Barely keeping back small groans of pain, Julian followed the women for the next several minutes. They arrived at a three-story building, lights and noise pouring out of the open windows. Upon entering, Julian was greeted by a wide open single room, with scattered support beams supporting the upper stories. A wide bar covered most of the back wall, to the left of the entrance were sparring pits interspersed with various combat training equipment, and to the right of the entrance was a rowdy tavern room. Most of the sparring pits were occupied, and it looked like the tavern audience was placing bets on a few matches. On the far right wall was a staircase leading to the next floor.
The pair led Julian to a larger table close to the bar, where they shooed several other guards in identical chainmail away and sat Julian before an older woman, well-dressed in a getup similar to a three-piece formal suit from Earth, but made up of leather and with a deep purple as the primary color. Again, it was the taller of the two guards who spoke.
“Hey boss, here’s a promising new one. Poor Jasper tried to mug ‘im, but he fucking brutalized the bastard; we won’t be having problems with that particular rat again. Gonna head back out on patrol after we toss the corpse in the cooler, figured you’d want to talk to the new guy.”
With nothing but a slight nod from the ‘boss’ before him, the two women turned about and left the strange establishment. A muffled banging could be heard outside, like a heavy lid being opened and slammed closed again. After a few more seconds of awkward silence, the older woman in front of him spoke with a deceptively quiet but commanding voice, “Well newbie, how’re you liking your new world?”
Julian blinked at the question, before trying out a response. “Not very hospitable so far, is it?”
“HA! Now that it sure as hell ain’t. Glad we picked you up though; you don’t look like you’re the type to stick to the Town, and most of the other gangs would be trying to force you into service with that fighting spirit.” She chuckled at the frown on Julian’s lips, before continuing. “Now, you can call me Marge. I run Marge’s Miracle, we’re a tight-knit little family that’s managed to carve out our own realm near the safe-zone. Unlike most of the local gangs, we don’t press-gang newbies into service. We pick up newbies like you, train you up a bit, then send you out to an organization in the wider world that we know will like you in exchange for coin. That sound like something you’d be interested in?”
Julian’s frown lessened as she continued, though it also helped that he was sitting still and no longer aggravating his stab wounds. Marge gave him a good feeling, even if she also gave off the impression of sufficient might to snuff his life like a candle should she wish it. His response was still cautious, as he’d been burned several times in his life by rushing into sub-par deals because he was in a hurry. “What’s the catch then, how much will this cost me?”
This time Marge’s laughter cracked through the tavern training area like a gunshot, silencing several conversations and earning reproachful looks from those too near the sonic attack. “Oh that’s a fair enough question, but I love the new ways newbies find to ask it. This’ll run you nothing, you’re basically our product, though if you choose to bail out at the end rather than go to anyone I’ll expect you to pay me back every dime I invested in you. Same goes if you bail early, this should take about a month, just plan to pay me back before you leave Town.” Marge reached forward with her gloved left hand, a gruff smile on her lips. “Agreed?”
With only a little trepidation, Julian seized on the opportunity in front of him with a firm shake of Marge’s hand. If these people truly meant him harm, they could kill him easily enough, but access to their resources would give him an advantage he didn’t have before. Plus, the obligation to join another organization outside the Town when they were done training him seemed more a boon than a price.
Marge spoke again. “Perfect. Now, you’ll want to whisper this part, no one should share their secrets more than necessary, but tell me the Skill you selected for your freebie. It’ll give us a good place to start your training.”
Julian leaned forward and whispered in her ear, “Create Zombie,” before subtly shifting his weight so he could at least attempt to bolt out of the building if she reacted negatively. Fortunately, she just stared at him for a moment before a wide grin split her face, and her eyes darted to the spot on the wall where Julian had heard the muffled bangs when the guards left.
“Oh, I’m going to enjoy this.”