“Exile’s Gap isn’t a city. It’s the crowning jewel of the west, possibly the world.”

~Daniel of Wrath and Bone

I awake in a cold sweat. My eyes bulge from their sockets. Beads fall from my forehead. My eyes jot left and right, gleaning my surroundings. I find my cozy cabin staring back at me. The the comforting sight of spices, dried meats, and vegetables, all finely organized, make my muscles relax. I put my hand on my forehead and wipe the sweat away. “...Someday.”

I gather supplies for a breakfast of seared mushrooms and codolt eggs. I watch the eggs gelatinous mass bubble on the hot iron of my iron skillet. I lick my lips. I prepare the dish with relative ease as I massage a shoulder scar with my other hand.

I scarf down the breakfast and begin equipping myself for the day. A single chest plate around my heart, grooved and curved for catching a stray sword and redirecting it. A cloak of leather made from a wyvern. Creases paint themselves in the shape of scale insertions throughout the entirety of it. A hot, glowing ring I won from a duel. Finally, a massive, skyquartz broadsword leaning against the chimney. It’s brilliant white sheen sparks with electricity as I pick it up, and sheath it on my back.

I glance upwards and open the door from my cabin. Ducking about two feet, I walk through the door. My eyes begin scoping out the horizon. Mountainous air, thin and wispy, flows across a massive valley miles wide. A red glitter snake gently dots through the air, and a sapphire cave sloth slowly lumbers on the edge of the valley as it hits woodlands towards the right.

My voice crackles, “A beautiful day...” I stride forwards into the valley. Glittering sparks come from the grass as my rubber heels push through it. The always-orange sky peaks through masses of floating stones in the air. I slowly walk through until I reach my well treaded path towards the woodlands. The winding pathway brings a light smile to my face. I twirl a knapsack filled with glittering animal skin. The gemstone fur and scales make a noise like a fistful of golden coins shaking in a greedy man’s pocket. The bird calls from the approaching forest mix with it well.

Colossal, grey stones float high above me. Only a select few float low, and I walk towards one of them at the edge of the forest. I pull my broadsword from its magnetic sheathe, and swing at the mass of rock. An extremely harsh screech booms out. The high deposits of metal within the stone scream as they are ripped asunder. As if mocking the attempt, the rocks many seams fill in almost instantly. The rock imitates its previous form in mere seconds. I grin lightly as I repeat my morning ritual of slashing through the stone. Habit takes over, and before I know it, I’m covered in sweat, and my shoulders can take no more.

I sheathe my sword and begin walking into the large, curved trees making the edge of the valley. Small yellow eyes watch me from the darkness afar.I laugh wholeheartedly at the smaller creatures. My horns release a small crackling of electricity. The eyes close and I hear the animals quietly shuffle away. I know I’m getting closer when small mushrooms can be seen growing from stumps of large, ancient trees. Fallen centuries ago, the trees now act as landmarks through the ages. A short walk deeper into the dim forest and a massive runic stone appears in an opening.

A ghoulish goat-like statue rests upon the cyclopean pedestal. The statue begins cracking the stone away and moving. Bulbs of stone chip away to reveal gentle green eyes. The goat face is ended with a massive crooked nose, and curved horns forming a heart with its neck. The goats rectangular irises never directly stare at me, or in the same direction. Instead, they dot from random points like a chameleon. Many arms come from its back, and they all do an elaborate twirling dance with their wrists.

Luscious, beautiful lips begin smiling as the last cracks of her stoney, grey skin falls back. Her oddly rounded teeth begin bearing as she says, “Ariak, how good to see you again. The only man I’d ever let into my garden.” Her rounded teeth click loudly together as if adding emphasis to her sprity, reedy voice. She crosses her many pairs of legs suggestively as she sits on the edge of the pedestal.

“Shu’gall, you deserve better than me. I’m guessing you’re at a fevers pitch at this point in the season.” I say. Her goat like eyes begin jittering, and her teeth click in excitement. “Not as much as usual this year, only a young couple...But more than enough to sustain my habits...”

I nod and tilt my bag into the air, “I’ve studied continental maps reaching far, and I’ve found the city people speak legends of.”

“Has little Ariak found a better place than...What was the little human hovel called again?” I twitch while I say, “Albora… It’s become hostile. But I got what I needed.”, my hand automatically comforts a scar on my shoulder before I continue, “So now I can go there. Where the named are relinquished.” Her eyes focus onto a single target for the first time, my hand holding my scar. “Oh, Changing locations are we? New plans for the last Sky Oni? You know... ” She stands before me, revealing that her feminine, human thighs are ended with large, sharp spikes. She leans in closer and says, “I can tell you which other God gave humanity that gift… All I need is your soul...”

My eyes grow distant as I say, “If you took the gift away… I’d consider it.” Her irises contract her pupils like a cat’s. She stops approaching me and sits back down. Her wrists twirl more playfully as she says, “Never any fun, are you? I’m a minor god, only blessed with my humble abode.” She raises her many arms. They all independently gesture towards the forest, pedestal, and surrounding mountains at once. “.. But I can’t help but root for you Ariak, everybody loves a dark horse.”

I wince lightly, and say “While a god might not appreciate my power... “ I pause and say, “I’ll be off.” Her smile disappears as she says, “So soon? We just started talking... I guess I’d hate to get in the way of a busy man.” She licks her lips. Her head travels slowly, but purposefully onto the center of the platform. She kneels down and gently kisses the center of the pedestal. Purple and blue ploom from the center of the tablet. They slowly circle and intertwine together. The vortexes arms come back into the central location and form a compact sphere of energy as she takes a step back.

“I’ll be off then. No telling when I’ll be back.” She pouts, but nods in agreement. I stare into her eyes and rest my hand on her shoulder for a second. Her body squirms like a net filled with fish underneath the delicate red fabrics. She blushes as I take a small step forward, and the sphere sucks me into it immediately, teleporting me towards the continent’s largest city, Exile’s Gap.

Swoosh! I appear ten feet above a large patch of  Chiffon grass upon a hill. My landing barely kicks up dust, but the grass glitters spectacularly. I peer in all directions. No bystanders is always a blessing. My head lifts upwards.

The keystone of civilization on the western half of the continent stares back at me, Exile’s Gap. A gargantuan university rises from a small mountain centering the city. Scorching high into the air, A single beam of elegant light comes from the cathedral like building, serenading the surroundings with soft, blue light. Surrounding the mountain’s edges are extravagant, multi-story buildings covered with layers of glowing, red seals. They contrast sharply on the building’s white, marble constitutions that stretch stone higher into the air than I’ve ever seen. The layer sits behind a defensive wall of quartz several feet high. Below the wall is the bulk of Exile’s Gap: large shops, apothecaries, schools, and small cottages with simple, white walls, windows, and black roof tiling. Roads large enough for beasts of burden tunnel through the masses of houses on all districts. Town squares, plazas, and trading areas litter the landscape before it slowly thins out into nothing but farms, breweries, orchards, and a glittering field of Chiffon grass. The Euphrates River cuts a life bringing swathe through the center of the city, bringing the entire world to Exile’s gap’s maw.

Moats of concrete filled with Red Fester Oil and high, thick walls surround the furthest reaches of the city, defending citizens from any enti attempting a siege. Small and large expansion efforts can be seen in several areas, while well organized groups of guards move in groups wearing all black. They make frequent stops into all the shops and public areas, supporting the citizens and doing routine maintenance on all the city’s key infrastructure.

After peering for quite awhile, I shake my head and start moving towards the city. Lush fields of grapes, lanturn corn, and bluegrass dot my journey closer towards the city walls. Citizens begin noticing me from the fields and they wave. I open my eyes wide in surprise, but manage a clumsy wave back.

I keep following the small pathway towards one of the city’s gates. The small pathway has drastically less traffic than the main road in the distance, but still many different races intermingle in a sharp contrast to the rest of the continent. Horse carriages wield Scaleclad drivers ferrying elves and humans from neighboring quarries and mines. While obviously split by race on the carriages, they politely coexist. I whisper, “What is going on… ”

I near the pathway’s end, and a small gateway manned by two heavily armored guards welcome me. A glowing stone artifactory sits beside the guards, it’s green insignias promising judgement of high caliber. The guard’s polished sloe-steel armor somehow absorbs all the light that hits it while shimmering in the sun, like an eclipse that blinds foolish men. One of the guards approaches me and says, “Hello…” He stares upwards at me, and continues with a little pause, “...Sir. You don’t seem to be a normal traveler. ”

The other guard jumps in , “He don’t look a lick like a ‘traveler.’ More like a demon, or a Enti tryin to look human. ” The men’s voices comes through their visors loud and clear. I quickly get my bearings and begin speaking, “This is my first time near a city… Like this.”

“Well…. Yeah. It is a special place. Why are you here? Specifically?”, the polite guard say. I bow and say, “Due to war in Crescea. Famine and Daniel of Wrath and Bone have my homeland in a vicegrip. I cannot go back.” His hands fall softly at his sides. He responds, “I’m sorry to hear that.” The other guard unsheathes his sword, “A giant with horns and cloudy skin. I don’t trust it, seems like a demon from the olden tails. An enti-beast stuck in a humans body. Get out you filthy animal.” The guard’s stance is low, begging me for an excuse to cleave me in two. I take a step back before the other guard steps in front, “I have kin from Crescea living here George. Annie and Lenah. There parents were killed in one of Daniel of Wrath and Bone’s purges.”

George’s sword lowers. His entire stance and airs cools like hot metal entering a slack tub. He stands straight again and says, “I see. Maybe I was fixin to jump to too many conclusions. What are you anyway?” I say with raised hands, “My name is Ariak Sato. My race is Sky Oni. We hail from the mountains of Crescea.”I pause waiting for the guard’s reaction. After a few more seconds he says, “Well why didn’t you say so. You a biggun for sure, but we got an Oni or two already in the city. They some good folk. ”

The sound of the nearby guards sheathing their swords soothes my racked nerves, and I notice the sweat rolling down my forehead. I follow along as George begins pushing my process along at a much more rapid pace. The other guard continues handling other travelers.

He rushes me into the artifactory for judgement. It’s large, greenish stones hum with energy. The small rectangle can barely fit me, so I kneel as George takes a scroll, and throws it into a small chamber on the side of the artifactory. Green fire incinerates it as he says, “This’ll give us guards a copy uh what you look like. You’n have one too since I’m feelin in a better mood now.” I respond,“I’d have it no other way, thank you George.”

The artifactory begins pulsing with energy as it reads my essence. The green insignias begin etching runic patterns within their centers. They gleam in green light as the air inside the rectangular device thickens. The air swirls with patterns like alcohol in cleansed water.

George stabs his sword into the ground and taps a chunk of quartz onto it. The rock glows and all the cyclopean symbols on the device burst with light. Seconds pass before the process finishes and he speaks, “Oh man! We got a top-notch warrior right here. Real good things worked out earlier huh?” I smile lightly as I say, “A generous claim.”

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He says, “Humble to! You wanna copy biggun?” I nod. He grabs the scroll from the other guard and hands it over. I look at it in surprise.

“Artifactory sheet for citizen c75ce:

Race: Sky Oni

Height: 7”6

Weight: 360 pounds

Name: Ariak Sato

Strength: 203

Endurance: 148

Agility: 106

Perception: 37

Wisdom: 28

Power: 9607

Rank Estimate: Scarletite

Rank estimates do not reflect real combat ability, but instead aim to categorize combat potential given base metrics. For more information about ranking, metric creation, or power calculations, visit your any branch of Arkeops University.”

I finish reading the paper. I say, “So this device… Can tell you how powerful I am… ” Goerge responds, “Well… Kinda. It’s been pretty accurate so far. I could sit here and describe its intrah-cuh-cies all day, but you’n do better asking someone else. They call it ‘Judgement.” I nod as we finish the process. While walking towards the gate, I put a single hand on George’s shoulder and say, “Tell your friend over there, that he’s a good man. And for the record, so are you.” The guard beams with pride, and rekindles his posts duties with vigor. After I turn away, I crush the scroll in my hand and whisper, “...George. Misery for misery.”

I walk through the small set of stone gates in the city walls. Inside, the rushing sound of footsteps never stops. Large groups of people walk with purpose towards blacksmiths, general stores, and guild houses. They swim past me like schools of fish avoiding a shark. Florists, jewelers, alchemists, potterers, cobblers, and tailors all hang signs with ornate magical lights announcing their names and professions. Their multicolored displays hang from houses with walls of painted wood. They swirl and sparkle as they catch my eye, creating an incredible aura of life from the architecture itself. Every intersection holds these types of shops, and every street is wide with layers of brick protecting the dirt from being worn away. They support the rampant amount of people as they hurry in all directions. Inns litter the blocks near the front gate, and tired travelers walk in coordinated droves towards them.

The frenetic energy is contagious, and I find myself walking with purpose towards  a massive building shaped like a cathedral. It hums with the light blue light I could see from the planes outside. Even with the rush, people gawk and point at me. My extremely large frame, horns, and cloudy skin make a spectacle as I walk, but the majority of the citizens are so busy they can’t afford me the time. “I wasted a lot of time being somewhere else.” I say while storming ahead.

The shops and various sights never let up as I move through the city towards an university. Scaleclad, both blackscale and topthorns, litter various alleyways. Their scaly skin, busy hands, and elaborate clothing give a presence of efficiency and culture. One of them walks forwards as I pass.

I stop as the blackscale man flags me down. His short, stocky frame is covered in finely groomed, black scales. He stands at about half my height. His large head is supported by a stout neck. Finely decorated clothes cover him delicately, and their bright, pastel colors contrast sharply with his dark scales. He holds his small, dextrous hands up and towards me in the way of a handshake.

I respond in kind, bending lower and giving him my hand. He smiles and begins speaking, “I saw you walk in through the gate. A man like you probably needs a place to be right? We have some mercenary work, and fine beds if your interested.” His large mouth opens lightly, imitating a humans smile.

I ponder for a second before responding, “What is your name?”

“Ah, where are my manors. I’m Al’ Amur. I’m a represenative for Rosewild Apothecary. I’m looking for able bodies to cover some of our alchemic shipments. ” He stops for a grand gesture towards my sword, “And you look quite capable. ”

I keep my face stoic as I consider. I juggle what little knowledge I have of the city as  I say, ”What warrior ranks are you looking for? And what is the pay for individual escorts?”

His mouth opens wider as he speaks quickly, “Oh ho! Of course you’ll be handsomely rewarded. We give all escorts payment once they arrive, and room and board the entire trip. Typically we have multiple escorts carry any single package, to keep everything honest you see. Expect around 100 Yuhms per delivery, and a bonus dependent on your rank. We have several shipments headed for far off countries, and closer villages. Even inter city deliveries are common for a company as prolific as ours. What would you prefer?”

I wrestle with some thoughts before responding, “Within the city. Somewhere near an university would be nice. I’m new and hungry for knowledge” His tail begins twirling as he says, “Excellent! We’ll make arrangements for you to stay at our main campus. You know the way right?”

I shrug and say, “I’ll find my way. ”

“Nonsense! We can take care of that as we are sure you’ll take care of us. Follow me and I’ll take you there to a few of our other escorts. Maybe you can become acquainted with some of them.”

I say,“I’m new to town. We will see.” He waves away my caution while saying, “You’ll find we Scaleclad have a way with business and keeping our promises. I’m sure we’ll have a prosperous relationship together.”

We continue towards the alleyway where he walked from. The large brick buildings let little light into the alleyway, but signs from neighboring businesses light the dim passageway. We walk through a few turns in between buildings before reaching a staircase reaching downwards from the alleyway directly into a basement. It has a small wooden sign wrapped in wood carved like vines of a rose and reads “Rosewild Apothecary.”

We head down the small set of stairs into the white, stone building. I duck low as we enter through the doorway. Inside a long room lined with hammocks, a hodgepodge of various warriors sit around a centered, wooden table. Mugs filled with sparkling, multi colored liquids spur the various mercenaries into a jolly fit of rough merrymaking. Each of them sits with adorned armor and weapons from various parts of the continent. Whips, maces, dawnstars, and even a wizards staff lay somewhere among the group. Their races vary as deeply as the weaponry. Scaleclad, Bloodelfs, Humans, and even an Orc sit together at the table. The surreal setting is dotted hard with the varying currencies from all over the continent laying on the table.

The group notices us entering and they stop. Their eyes immediately begin sizing up my fighting potential. Al’Amur waves towards one of the group, a heavy armor clad warrior with a dawnstar. He says, “This is Cross Levy Ariak. He’ll show you around and introduce you as need be. I have a few errands to run now, but I’ll finish your onboarding process later. Do you have the sheet the guards gave you at the front gate? ” I reach into a leather pocket and pull the crumbled scroll from it. I hand it off and Al’Amur quickly scans the paper before his eyes open wide, “By the gods. A Scarletite, no almost Adamantium level warrior...”

The room falls silent. Cross stops mid step towards me, frozen in place. Someone drops their drink onto the floor, and a river of suds begins flowing in between the rocks in the floor’s mortar. I glance around the room. No eyes meet mine. Al’Amur’s monocle shakes as he says, “Y-You s-s-seem quite well equipped for a job such as this Ariak. I-I-I’m sorry to have offended you with such a lowly offer before. I-I h-had not heard of your name before, please p-p-pardon my ignorance.”

I raise my hands lightly, “Like I said. I’m new in town and still trying to find my way. Look at it as a good opportunity for us both.” Al’Amur responds, “O-Of course. I will write a special contract for your services, and give you full clearance into any of the company’s various libraries. Are you in town for particular business that Rosewild can help you with?”

I shrug, “Not yet. I hope to find something soon.” Al’Amur nods and shuffles out of the barracks. I turn towards Cross, “So you’re Cross Levy? Ariak Sato.” I stare down at him for a moment. His steel armor has red cloth intertwined decoratively throughout its joints. The long handled dawnstar has the same red cloth at the tips of its handle. His armor is smudged and unpolished, but not dirty. The man’s sandy colored hair and blue eyes somewhat make up for his weak jaw and lax eyes. I reach out my hand and shake his. His eyes blink a few times before he responds, “Nice to meet you Ariak. Glad to hear we have such an accomplished warrior in our company now. You must sit and share stories with us if you have the time. I can introduce you to our small band.”

I smile lightly before following him. We approach the table of mercenaries and they shuffle. Their twitching puts me on edge. I say, “A fine group indeed. A band as varied and experienced as you all must be able to handle almost any situation.” None are able to respond. Though the twitching settles down, I put my hand on Cross’s shoulder and say, “What are their names Cross?”

Cross’s muscles tense, “Of course Ariak. This is Kinsley Shade, our newest member.” A woman wearing green cloth and leather armor stands and reaches out her hand. Her long red hair falls from the side onto her face, drawing attention towards her luscious lips and green eyes. I bend over slightly and shake her hand, “Nice to meet you Kinsley. I look forward to seeing the Krawtea Whip in action. ” Her face blushes.

Cross coughs lightly, “And this is our Orc. His name is Blat Skor. A mage and renowned practitioner of runic magic.” The orc stands tall. His robes fall from his muscular build, revealing years of training and practice. His malachite colored skin radiates from his elvin roots, but his large tusks reveal his bestial beginnings. He stairs upwards, directly into my eyes, “A pleasure Ariak. I’m sure you’ll beguile us with enchanting tales of combat and hardship whilst we progress our fruitful relations. If you need a touchup to any runes on person, I can be your gentleman and scholar.” I grin, “Of course. I look forwards to your sage and counsel.” He nods in approvement. The rest of the crowd stands one by one, stammering there names out as grit my teeth through the process.

Afterwards I follow Cross through the incredibly large complex. Massive, glass rotunda capped rooms are caressed with bright sunlight, enhancing the beauty of the western architecture prolific throughout Exile’s Gap. Columns and decorative etchings flow evenly throughout the spaces, revealing culture without falling into the realm of excess. Bookshelfs, well worn from time and care, line every wall and fill almost every room with the familiar scent of leather bound paper. Ingredients from across the continent fill satchels and alchemical tables. Their glass instruments harboring death and life through transformation of a black widow's legs and a goat’s eye into a liquid concoction.

The entire process takes a few hours, and my incessant questioning begins wearing cross down. “So we have supply chains from all the major coastal cities across the entire continent you say? How have the business leaders managed that? I wouldn’t think the hierarchies of Krawtea, or the Rigid District States would allow it?” Cross’s eyes begin blinking as he says, “I think… I mean...” He almost slaps himself across the face before I say, “ Forgive me. Show me towards my sleeping quarters and I’ll be on my way, that seems like enough information for a day.” He sighs heavily, “Right this way Ariak.” We walk up from the barracks towards a large staircase. Following it, we are lead towards a set of rooms dedicated for live in alchemists and professors.

“I believe this is where Al’Amur said you’d be staying. Any questions or concerns?” Cross says. I grab for the doorknob and begin opening the door, “None. Thank you for today Cross. Long live.”He nods and says, “Long live.”

I glance through the room. Books, wines, runes, cheeses, and various clothes cover a desk towards the left of the room. A stunning purple canopied bed rests in the center of the room. Mosaic glass windows twinkle with multicolored light through elaborate, stained patterns. A fine rug admonishes the floor of the room, catching the stained glasses patterns and matching them perfectly. The wooden walls emanate the smells of many differing ingredients and spilled potions, bathing the area in the rich aroma of a chef’s kitchen.

I inspect the room for traps or magic of any kind. Flipping over the rug, opening all the drawers, tapping the glass windows, and jostling the bed. I check under the bed, like a small child looking for the boogeyman, but again, nothing out of the ordinary. As I check the desk, I see a formal paper on it. I pick it up and begin reading:

“We congratulate you on the contractual employment under Rosewild Apothecary. Due to the high level of proficiency in your artifactory judgement, we here at Rosewild would like to forward you 1,000 Yuhms and invite you to the exclusive company outing later this week. We will have refreshments, hors d’oeuvres, and various enchanting guests from across Luthetania representing there companies and nations as we strive to advance the peaks of our scientific understanding of the world. The meeting will be held at Brownwich manor, six leagues north of Exile’s Gap. Four days from now at suns end.”

I shut the paper, “Ah. I’m a bragging point. A prosperous union for us both indeed… ” I flip and read the next paper:

“We are glad to announce our highest ranking representatives of the company would like to come and meet you in person, to kindle better communications between our two parties. Rockwall Willis founded Rosewild Apothecary almost 54 years ago, and is famous for founding major medical, military, and philanthropic institutions across all of Exile’s Gap. Please join us in the advancement of our understanding of magic, science, and the world. We hope you can manage to open your schedule tomorrow evening, for the wondrous occasion.”

My brow furrows, “Coming onto me thicker than widowbee honey.” I toss the note onto the stack of golden coins on the desk, and grab the top book from the shelf. I read it’s label aloud, “Basic applications of Sorcery: Volume 1”.

I unlatch all of my equipment and try laying in the bed. My legs dangle off the edge, so I opt for sitting at the desk. The chair’s arms prevent me from sitting, so I snap them off. The desk is so short my spine bends like a horseshoe. I sit on the floor with my legs crossed, and finally obtain a semblance of comfort. I open the book and begin unraveling it’s secrets.