Rin tromped up the stairs, arriving in the cobbled square with the massive boulder looming at his back. The humble guard station was absent, and it took him a moment to understand he’d exited the opposite side of the boulder from where he’d entered.
How long was I in there for? It feels like hours.
The same guard as before came strolling around the boulder, whistling as he walked.
“Ah, I thought I ‘eard someone back ‘ere! How’d everything go—”
He froze when he saw Rin’s new status.
Rin Cartwright
[CURSED] Level 6 Potato Farmer
The title of his status didn’t look like a regular class at all, leaving the humble occupation of ‘Potato Farmer’ in place. In his mind’s eye, it was even a different color, with bright scarlet letters rather than the typical green.
Even my status is cursed.
The guard was stunned, gaping at Rin’s blood-stained shirt and damaged breeches. “Lad, what … what happened?” The man’s jaw worked up and down. His eyes were wide, stricken with equal parts horror and pity.
Anger swelled in Rin’s chest, but rather than bloom into rage, it fizzled out, leaving behind an inexplicable sense of shame. The anger still lurked, but hopelessness overwhelmed it all. He was weak. Crushed. Broken.
“Lord Easton happened. Do you know him?”
The guard stumbled back a step. “Aye. I saw him walkin’ about earlier.”
“He crippled my class by forcing me to eat a dungeon flower.”
The man’s face fell into a deep frown. “Lad, I … I’m speechless. I dint know what ‘e was up to, I swears it. It’s not fer me to go challengin’ a noble, anyways. They do anythin’ they want around ‘ere.” He scratched his beard. “Lord Easton is known for having a short fuse. That, and a perpetual stick up his arse. Did ya do somethin’ that set him off?”
Rin gripped the sheath of his sword so tight the leather squeaked.
“Yeah, I was born.”
The guard stood there, dumbstruck, not knowing how to respond.
Rin turned his back on him and plodded away. What more was there to say?
He was soon back in the Merchants’ Quarter, aimlessly wandering, clueless about what to do next. The original plan was that he’d head to the Magic Academy in Dunspire City to compete for a scholarship. Or if that failed, he’d join a traveling merchant performing low-level guard duty. He’d hoped to reach at least level 10 this morning, with a strong warrior class backing him. Plenty of traveling groups needed guards, even weak ones like him, and he didn’t require much. He would’ve happily accepted food and shelter as payment if he gained experience and an opportunity to see the world.
But those plans were dead and gone now.
Level 6 forever.
A stranger jostled his shoulder and he realized he was daydreaming in the middle of a busy street. The crowd carved a wide path around him, avoiding him like he had a contagious disease. He could see the harsh mixture of scorn and disgust in their glares. At one point, a young street urchin even had the gall to spit at Rin’s feet before disappearing into the crowd.
What am I going to do?
“YOU THERE!” boomed a deep voice. “Out of the way, or I’ll have you forcibly removed—Cursed? What are you doing out of the enclave?”
Rin blinked dazedly, looking up to see a soldier towering above him mounted on a black horse. The man wore half-plate armor that was dented and dulled from frequent use, but Rin could tell it was well-maintained, with all the appropriate joints and straps oiled to a glistening shine.
Sergeant Tony Ilks
Level 22 Town Guard
“Enclave?” sputtered Rin.
The guard nodded with his chin to the east. “Out past the walls. Not many of your folk out here during the day. It’s for your own safety. Otherwise, you’re liable to be robbed and beaten. Or worse.”
“I-I’m staying with Percy. The tinker. Percy Wildernocken.”
The man frowned. “Ha. I doubt that, lad. He would have registered you with the guard station and I would have heard about it. Cursed are rarely allowed to reside inside city walls.”
“I … I just got the curse an hour ago. I just came from the dungeon.”
The man’s frown transformed into a blank stare. He appraised Rin head-to-toe, taking in the bloodstained clothes, and imperceptibly shook his head. With a much softer voice, he said, “Alright, lad, best be off with you, then. Go tell Percy you need to get registered, right away.”
Rin looked about him, then met the man’s gaze with wetness brimming in his eyes. “I’m lost.”
“Hmph.” The guard pointed his armored gauntlet at a side street. “Go that way to Benning Street. Take a right at the bakery and you’ll bear near Percy’s place.” The man clucked at his horse, urging it into a steady walk. “Be sure to register, or I’ll learn about it.”
Rin nodded eagerly, already trudging into the side street.
The confrontation with the guard cleared Rin’s head instantly. He learned quickly to keep to the shadowy edges of the street where the hostile glares were fewer. When he found Percy’s house, he rushed inside using the tinker’s hidden key and collapsed on his meager sleeping blanket.
Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
The unanswered question resounded again in his mind.
What am I going to do?
Rin lay there for a while, but couldn’t settle, so he busied himself mending his breeches and scrubbing his shirt. He moved on to cleaning the entire house, desperate to quell his nerves at seeing Percy again.
Some time later, the front door slammed, announcing the tinker’s return. Rin was caught sweeping the floor amidst a choking cloud of dust, with trinkets piled in the room’s four corners.
“I can’t wait to see all your levels! Let’s take a look at you, then!”
Percy gawked as Rin kept his head down, sweeping furiously. “What are you doing, boy?”
The tinker spotted the boy’s status and his breath caught in his throat.
Rin’s shoulders sagged. The wooden broom fell from his grasp, clattering to the floor. “A rich noble named Lord Easton showed up. He injured me. Badly. He knew what he was doing. It forced me to take the cursed class.”
For several seconds, the tinker stood there unmoving. Then he unfroze, and his gaze softened. He strode over to the tired-looking breakfast nook, barely big enough for two, and pulled out his only two chairs. “I’ll brew some tea. Take a seat and tell me everything.”
And Rin did, leaving out no detail. He spoke non-stop for an hour as the story fell out of him in long, breathless sentences. He described everything from the ease of the first fight to the poisoning of the ring, the pain of his amputated leg, the dungeon flowers, the boss fight, and even his interaction with the guard on the black horse a few streets away.
Percy silently listened to his mounting tirade, nodding with a deep frown. By the time he was done, Rin’s rage was welling hot again, his knuckles white as he clenched the table. It took him several minutes to cool down once his final words were spent.
“That soldier said I had to be registered and put in an enclave. He said it was for my own protection. Is that true?”
Percy sighed. “I won’t lie to you. It’s very rare that a Cursed is allowed to roam freely. Any that do must have an excellent reason to do so, with written authorization carried on their person at all times. I know of only two individuals with this privilege, out of the hundred or so that live at the enclave.”
He reached over and patted Rin’s hand. It was meant as a comforting gesture, but the deep furrows on the tinker’s brow emptied it of truth. “This enclave is not a pleasant place. They say it’s for your protection, but that’s … well, it’s a lie, plain and simple. As you know, the Cursed are widely shunned in our kingdom and considered outcasts by the gods themselves. They’re treated as less than human—no, less than beasts I would say. At least horses and oxen can live in the city. Whereas, Cursed are not eligible for employment unless it’s a duty everyone else abhors, like emptying latrines or shoveling manure. They’re even refused charity on the basis that the gods themselves don’t help them, so why should mortals?”
Percy’s gaze grew distant. “We could petition your case with the council, but I predict that would be entirely fruitless. And likely destroy my business once Lord Easton found out about it. I’d have to relocate.” The tinker paused, his eyes darting to his goods piled about the room. “I could do it. It wouldn’t take too much. We could take the eastern pass and be in Forden City within three weeks—”
“I’m NOT making you relocate. Don’t be ridiculous.” Rin’s shoulders slumped lower. “It’s hopeless. Maybe I should take a look at this enclave. How bad can it be?”
Percy gave a firm shake of his head. “Not on my watch, kid. You’d be marked, robbed, and forced into a gang. That’s the way it works, from what I’ve heard.”
A bold knock on the front door interrupted them.
Percy let in a bewildered man who removed his flat cap and began nervously crushing it between his hands, sweat beading on his bald head. The stranger nodded at Percy before turning to Rin.
It was the dungeon guard wearing civilian clothes.
“My shift ended an’ I couldn’t stop thinkin’ about ya, lad.” The man shook his head, his gaze fixed on the floor. “Terrible, terrible thing, that.” His gaze flicked back to Rin. “Well, ‘ere’s the thing. We ‘ad another team take a turn at the dungeon this mornin’. Two mages and a healer, or tha’s what their classes were when they came out. They ‘ad to turn back, y’see, back out the entrance the way they went in. But they wanna take another go at it tomorrow. Fer the ‘sperience.”
The man shifted awkwardly from foot to foot. “So’s I got to finkin’, with a Cursed class, you don’t get any ‘sperience. It all goes to other people. Or so’s I hear. That would make you perfect to help out a team like this. Bein’ a sorta guide like.” He let out a little laugh. “Why, you came right out the dungeon without a scratch on ya! And solo, as well! Who better to be a dungeon guide for these newbies? So I mentioned it to ‘em, and they said they’d pay fifty copper apiece if you’ll guide ‘em! They dint care one whit you was cursed, neither.” The man’s gaze fled to the floor and his voice lowered to a whisper. “I’m sorry ‘bout what happened. I thought this might ‘elp.”
Rin glanced at Percy and spotted the beginnings of a smile curling into his cheeks. The tinker gave him a discreet nod.
“Thank you!” said Rin. “I’ll take it!” He launched himself at the man, gripping him in an awkward embrace, half hug and half handshake.
The man chuckled and gently pushed Rin back. “Alright, alright, no need for that. I’m ‘appy to be o’ service. I just felt so bad abowt the ‘ole fing.”
Percy was there, giving the man a firm handshake and proferring a slim business card. “An excellent idea, my man. Simply, genius! And as a small token of our thanks, this card will grant you a twenty percent discount on my wares for the next year.”
The guard’s eyes popped. “A merchant card! Oh my. Well, if ya say so.”
Percy nodded at Rin. “We still need to register him as a Cursed within the town limits. May I drop your name as a reference? I’m sure it would go a long way with that grumpy Sergent Ilks.”
The man froze, his eyes large. “Ah, well, ya sees, tha fing is—”
“It stands to reason that the town guardship should receive some sort of tax for creating this position. Don’t you think, Rin?”
The boy caught Percy’s leading question and saw where he was going. He casually lobbed the question back at him.
“I guess so. But it’s only fifty coppers. What sort of fee would be appropriate?”
Percy pursed his lips. “Ten percent, I should say.” He turned back to the guard. “I’ve heard the Sergeant is quite fond of his little money-making schemes like this. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’d be very interested in rewarding the person that made it all happen.”
The man’s eyes glinted and a smile crept on his lips. “Could be, could be.” He gave Rin another appraising look. “Ah, to hells wiv it. Put me name down as a ref’rence. I’ll do ya proud.”
“Excellent!” Percy eagerly pumped the man’s hand. “Thank you, ah, Mister—”
“Gary. Gary Fletch. Tha honna’s all mine! And you, lad, make sure yer at the dungeon eight am sharp tomorra.”
The man donned his cap and backed out of the door, giving a gracious dip of his head on the way out.
Percy burst into motion, collecting some things and hastily flinging his jacket on. He pointed his finger at his traveling bag and snapped his fingers, beckoning Rin to retrieve it.
“Where are you going?” the boy said, handing it to him.
“I’m going to go get you registered, now, before this razor-thin slice of luck is gone forever.”
“Oh.” Rin grabbed his sword belt and began buckling it on.
“No, not you. We’re already treading on thin ice with you being unregistered in the town limits. I’ve some favors to call in. Then I’ll go and get you registered right.” At the boy’s crestfallen face, he smiled. “Don’t worry, scamp, you’re leaning on my expertise now, and this is what I’m good at. Wheeling, dealing, making connections, creating win-wins. This opportunity as a dungeon guide is great news. There’s hope for you yet!”
He slapped Rin heartily on the arm and made for the door. He was halfway out when he spun back, beaming with a mischievous grin.
“And tomorrow, you eat every damn flower you can find. You’re going to need all the free Charisma you can get!”