Kaelen nodded, though uncertainty lingered in his mind. He had never been in a true battle before, only scuffles with other slaves. Another issue nagged at him—he didn't really know how strong he was. He'd gained stat points here and there and only understood what they meant because other people told him, but the magic words that told people their strength were lost on him. He couldn't read, and it was forbidden for slaves to be taught. The system showed you symbols in the language you were most fluent in, but since Kaelen couldn't read Common or any other language, it prevented him and many others from understanding or tapping into their true potential.

He knew basic numbers, but he had no idea what they represented. This would be a problem moving forward if he wanted to grow stronger. Without the ability to read the symbols or understand the meaning of the numbers, he would be rather stuck.

He voiced his concerns to Zharaith. "I have no problem helping out with the hunt, but I have one issue—I have no idea how strong I am or even what I'm good at. I can't read."

Zharaith's eyes widened in surprise before a small chuckle escaped her. "I should have known," she said, shaking her head. "But worry not, we have a solution for that. Come with me."

She motioned for Kaelen to follow, her amusement fading into a more serious expression as they left the house.

As they walked, the other gnolls eyed Kaelen suspiciously but quickly turned back to their own business once they noticed he was a sandwalker. Zharaith led him to a large central building and ushered him inside. The moment they entered, they were bombarded by tiny winged women flitting about the room, their wings shimmering in the light.

"What is going on here? Who are these people?" Kaelen asked in surprise, eyes darting between the figures.

Zharaith chuckled softly. "These are Sand Fae," she explained, clearly amused by his reaction. "They are fluent in most languages and help those who can't read understand their attributes. We have many who can't read, so the Fae help translate."

As Kaelen stepped further into the room the sand fae swarmed him bombarding him with questions, Kaelen displayed a look of confusion he wasn't good with energetic types and all of these sand fae seemed equally energetic. Zharaith slammed the bottom of her spear onto the floor and all of the Sand Fae calmed.

"Vessira, you help him. The rest of you, stop bothering the guests," Zharaith said firmly. At her words, one of the Sand Fae, the one called Vessira, floated toward Kaelen. She had white hair, and her skin was the same shade as his, a dusty tan that blended with the desert sands.

At first, she seemed calm and quiet, simply observing him as she circled. But then, without warning, the floodgates opened.

"So, how long have you been in the desert? Do you feel weak or strong? What's the last thing you ate? Can you even fight with that big sword, or is it just for show? Oh, and how did you get here anyway? You're not from around here, are you? Why don't you have a shirt?" she bombarded him with rapid-fire questions, her voice buzzing in excitement as she fluttered around his head.

Kaelen blinked, overwhelmed by the sudden rush of curiosity. He opened his mouth to respond, but she barely gave him the chance before moving on to the next question.

Kaelen raised his hands, trying to keep up with the flurry of questions. "Hold on, let's slow down," he said, his voice steady but a bit overwhelmed. "I'm Kaelen."

Vessira stopped mid-flight, hovering in front of him with wide eyes. "Oh! Right, introductions first. I'm Vessira," she said, giving a quick nod as if to reset herself. "Sorry, I just get excited when I meet someone new—especially someone like you. So, Kaelen, let's start with the basics. You can't read, right? No problem, I'll walk you through everything."

She gestured for him to sit, her wings fluttering softly as she landed in front of him. Kaelen sat down, still trying to wrap his head around the small, energetic creature in front of him.

"Now, let's take a look at your stats," she continued, much calmer now. "I'll read them out, and we'll figure out exactly what you're working with."

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Name: Kaelen

Race: Human (Sandwalker)

Current Level: 1

Stat Allocation: 12/25

Attributes:

Strength 20

Agility 6

Dexterity 5

Constitution 22

Intelligence 6

Willpower 15

Charisma 7

Skills:

(None available)

Talents: Pain Tolerance:9 Tenacity:9 Mining:6 Lifting:9

Vessira glanced at Kaelen's stats, her expression briefly growing serious before returning to its usual carefree demeanor. "Well, I can see why you're built like a fortress," she said with a slight chuckle. "Twenty-two in Constitution and twenty in Strength at level one... that's pretty unorthodox, to say the least. Even for a Sandwalker."

"Also, your stats are written in Common, but you speak Dusttounge. Why is that?" Vessira asked, her curiosity evident. Kaelen wasn't accustomed to such energetic personalities; even Eliza was easier to handle. Still, he replied thoughtfully.

"When I was young, it was written in Dusttounge, but as I grew older, I used it less and less. Eventually, the words just switched."

"Hmm, I've never heard of anything like that happening. Well, anything is possible, I guess. Now, let's go over the rest," she said, her eyes scanning the system, gliding over the words.

"Your agility, dexterity, and intelligence are nothing to write home about—pretty average overall. However, your charisma is slightly above average, which isn't all that surprising. And your willpower is definitely high for someone of your age and level. Just what have you gone through?"

Kaelen just smiled not answering her question she floated up and landed on his head. "I think I'll stay with you for now you're interesting and I've been so bored I'm sure you can change that.

"Now, let's move on to your Talents. It looks like you don't have any for swordsmanship yet, which makes sense if you're new to it. But your Pain Tolerance talent at rank nine is downright unusual for someone at level one. I suspect it will evolve into something even more formidable by the time you reach level five. The same goes for Tenacity. As for your Mining and Lifting talents, I didn't expect those. What kind of mine were you working in for stats like this?"

Kaelen simply laughed, leaving her question unanswered. He knew he had to keep some secrets, revealing only enough to earn Zharaith's trust.

"Well, keep your secrets then; I'll find out eventually." As she stood up, the words shimmered from Kaelen's view, and a question appeared in his mind. "How can you see my attributes anyway? Isn't that supposed to be hidden?"

This time, it was Vessira's turn to smile. "That will just have to be my secret."

As Vessira wrapped up, Zharaith placed a hand on Kaelen's shoulder. "We can't have you hunting bare-chested. Let's get you something to wear—those rags are hardly suitable clothing."

Kaelen had already taken a lot from them, and he didn't want to be stuck repaying the debt for too long, so he tried to stop her. "Wait, you don't have to do this. I'm pretty tough; I'll be fine."

Zharaith continued walking, unfazed. "It's fine; it's on me. Don't even worry about working it off."

Kaelen had no intention of turning down free gear, so he simply followed her until they arrived at what appeared to be an armory.

They stepped inside, and Kaelen was taken aback by the sight of spears, flails, and crossbows lining the walls. How they acquired all of this weaponry was a mystery to him; they didn't seem like the robbing types. Zharaith approached a cabinet, her gaze lingering on Kaelen as if measuring him. After a moment, she began pulling out various pieces of clothing.

She pulled out a brown studded leather tunic adorned with a leather pauldron. Alongside it, she retrieved a pair of pants made from a sturdy, unfamiliar material. A leather belt, equipped with several pouches and other attachments. Finally, she selected a pair of durable leather boots.

"Put this on I'll step out for a second," Zharith said as she stepped out of the room leaving Kaelen to change.

He slipped into the gear, the brown studded leather tunic snug against his torso yet allowing for freedom of movement. The tunic was crafted with reinforced stitching, its surface adorned with subtle patterns that hinted at its craftsmanship. The pants fit him perfectly, their sturdy fabric offering both comfort and durability, ideal for the rugged terrain he might face.

As he pulled on the leather boots, he noticed they were a bit tight but lined with soft animal fur, providing a surprising amount of comfort. The boots had a rugged sole, designed for traction, making them suitable for both hunting and traversing the harsh desert landscape. Together, the outfit made him feel ready for whatever challenges lay ahead.

He stepped outside, where Zharaith waited for him, her eyes scanning his new outfit with a hint of approval. Just as he stood there, Vessira rushed over, landing effortlessly on his shoulder.

"I'll be coming with you," she declared with enthusiasm. "You need to know what stats you've gained, right?"

he couldn't argue with that and he waited for Zharaith's next direction.