Bloomhaven marketplace [https://lh7-rt.googleusercontent.com/docsz/AD_4nXdVJRSCdYIM2RIGr9WQiinx0jOB83t48F6AkbjJRAYrMVc_k9ur6CMrlPNN_evgvAckSnQ9_8m9worMYfNt0qAWiQ4GiUsUMS5lClYOvPfrFED8Je_aVotM_nlW4gM-2WbvNLEFqkCvWnpeD-sLLvGzBkK2?key=ydQkOJdag5XUl5PwiJ-eyPnV]
In the room inside the wall, the sergeant sat at a wooden desk facing the door. The wide-shouldered man wore an orange tabard over gray leather armor and the same shiny metal helmet as the other guards which fully enveloped his head, leaving no openings.
Behind him, metal doors on either side of the room led deeper into the structure built within the white stone of the wall’s interior.
He gestured at the flat wooden bench in front of the desk. “Sit.” Once Alice sat, he paused, seeming to study her. She tried to study him in return, but just saw the distorted reflection of her own face on his mirrored helmet.
She shifted in her uncomfortable seat, wondering if maybe she’d made a mistake coming into the city. What would happen if this guard decided he didn’t like her?
“So,” The sergeant finally said. “You’re some hidden Council asset?”
“No?” Alice responded right away, then reconsidered. “I don’t think so? I’d never even heard of the Runic Council before today.”
He grunted. “What is your connection to them, then?”
Tell the truth, the note had said. Alice glanced at the blank faceplate, then studied the closed binder on the man’s desk. A three ring binder. Seriously? How—
She forced herself to focus on the conversation at hand. Tell the truth, yes. Tell the whole truth? She decided to avoid that if she could.
“I almost died. Archivist Xylvan Cypheron saved my life, or so he claims. I’m alive so I guess he did. We have a contract for the life debt. He’s given me access to his building in the Arena district. The golem came with the building. It’s introducing me to the Information Guild, where the Archivist hopes I can earn funds to repay him in a timely manner.
The sergeant tapped his desk. “Doesn’t matter, I suppose. Where are you from?”
She decided on being truthful without actually being informative. “Galveston.”
“Where’s that?”
“On the coast, nowhere close to here.”
He sat there for a moment, seeming to just stare at her. Finally he spoke. “I don’t see this Galveston in our records. Would you be willing to share your System map data with the city? It might earn you a few Points, depending on how much you add. Though, maybe you’d rather get paid by the Information Guild?”
He hadn’t been staring at her, but at his System, she realized. “I’m not comfortable doing that at this time.” She wanted to ask about Points. Were they different from credits? Was this something everyone should know?
The man tapped on his desk, then opened his three ring binder to the first page. “Let’s get you inducted, then.”
Alice nodded.
“Are you using translation magic of some sort right now?”
“Oh? Yes. Something the Archivist gave me.” She willed the necklace to appear, giving it a poke. “Gnomish, he said.”
The sergeant grunted. “Please disable and remove the artifact for the time being. Just set it on the desk, you can put it on again when we’re done. I’ll need to use one of my own for this. Wait until I find it, though. Regulations, you understand.” He opened a drawer and started digging through it.
Alice snorted. “I do, yeah. Must be a universal curse.”
The guard paused in his digging, turning his faceless head to face her. “Frivolity regarding curses is ill-advised,” he said in a flat voice before turning back to his search.
“Oh. Ah. Right. Sorry.” She made a mental note that curses were real and to not joke about them. Then, because she could, she made an actual note, titled ‘Things to remember.’ It had the same timestamp as her previous ones.
Eventually, the guard slipped a black ring onto his finger. “There. Approved translation item found. Please remove your translation artifact, as well as any other magical artifacts you might be wearing aside from your armor.”
“Armor? I’m not—”
“The artifact, please.”
Alice shut up and took off her necklace, placing it on the desk as instructed.
The guard spoke in his native language, yet the intent behind his words was also broadcast. “Are you still having the understanding of my speech.”
“I can still understand you, but the translation is worse. Bad grammar.”
“Indeed. Same for myself. A note of this I will be making. Have daily little use for the items of translating. Human made is required, for understood process. Nevertheless. Better can be done.”
She nodded. “Right.”
“Can you confirm your speech lacks a magical touch?
“Yes. Nothing magical about my speech, far as I know.”
“Now. Important questions. Yes or no.” He flipped open his binder to the final page and read to himself for a moment. “Do you wish the cities of humanity harm.”
“No, I do not.”
“Do you bring that which is harmful into the city.”
“No, I do not.”
“Do you know of threats present or future to any city of humanity.”
“No, I do not.”
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“Do you possess knowledge which could do harm to the cities of humanity.”
Alice needed to be truthful, so she suspected a simple ‘No’ here might be unwise. “I know very little about the cities of humanity. I have no idea what knowledge could do harm here. I have no knowledge that could do harm back home, and no desire to bring harm to this place, nor any other for that matter.” She shrugged and hoped the answer would suffice.
The guard considered her answer, then continued, “Do you intend to cause societal, political, or economical changes within the cities of humanity.”
She thought about pointing out, again, that she had no idea of their current standards, but decided it didn't matter. She had her own problems to deal with. “No, I do not.”
And if her opinion might change later? Well, that wasn’t what he asked.
“Have you committed any crimes against the citizens of the cities of humanity, or the cities themselves.”
“No, I have not.”
“Are you fleeing justice from beyond the cities of humanity.”
“No.”
“Do you wish to become a citizen of the cities of humanity.”
On the one hand she should ask some questions first, but on the other she didn't exactly have any alternatives. “Yes.”
The guard nodded. “Very well then. Let it be so.”
Reading from his binder, he continued, “Approximate societal value within the seven cities is measured and tallied by the cities themselves, in the form of a number on one's right hand. As you can see, all begin with ten Points. Being designated as a noble will elevate you past the threshold, otherwise the highest one can reach is ninety nine.”
He cleared his throat. “That is rather outdated. Only way to become a noble these days is to be born into this position. No Emperor to do the elevating, you see.”
She didn't, but started to nod anyway, then caught herself—no lying.
He continued reading. “Points are rewarded for service to the seven cities. They are subtracted in proportion to the severeness of all crimes committed. Most deductions are left up to the discretion of the guard handling the matter, between a warning and the maximum prescribed penalty.
“Murder, rape, assault, and other direct violations of another citizen are handled by the city itself and always invoke the maximum possible deduction. This holds true even beyond the city barriers.
“All such direct violations of another citizen are weighted by the Points held by the injured party. Rape and murder both will deduct the victim’s full Point value from the violator, separately, while other deductions will vary depending on the severity of the assault or infraction, resulting in a fraction of the victim’s total Point value being deducted from violator.
“The only exception to this is when the victim holds a negative Point value. In that case they are treated as having ten Points for the purposes of physical violations, aside from killing them, as it is deemed a service to the world to rid the cities of such individuals. As such, their negative Point value will be subtracted from their executioner’s, resulting in a Point gain, up to the maximum ninety nine for us commoner folk.”
“Wait a moment,” Alice cut in. “You’re saying someone with ninety nine Points could rape and kill me, just like that, and they’d be left with seventy nine Points? No other punishment?”
The guard nodded. “They would have proved their worth to the cities, while you have not. And if they continue down such a path, they will soon not be of worth to the cities.” Seeing her worry, he continued, “Such is rare within the cities, as to lower oneself is seen as quite the moral failing. Just defer to those with more Points, as all do, with the deference increasing with the Point difference. Still, if one comes back from a hunt with less Points than they began with, well, sometimes hunters are forced to defend themselves, and the cities care not for the means, only the results.”
“Wait, I’ll be penalized for defending myself?”
He bobbed his head from side to side. “The assaulter will be penalized once they attack you. You are then free to respond with the same level of aggression. Draw weapons if they have, and so forth. But the, ah, intent behind such rules is to preserve humanity. Thus, killing your attacker is punished, unless they have proven themselves a detriment to society.”
“Do they literally have to stab me before I can stab back? What if I dodge out of the way?”
He bobbed his head side to side again. “Their aggression will be penalized, more if they land a blow. If you haven’t been hit by a weapon, don’t draw your own. Drawn weapons are rare in the city, however. Most keep their brawls to fist fights, if they are stupid enough to fight each other outside the arena in the first place. Such brawls typically involve a loss of one or two points from all aggressors, which by the end is often most of those involved.”
She recalled the roars of the crowd she heard walking through the Arena district.
The sergeant studied his binder for a moment, before closing it. “And that covers the rest of it.” After a beat he asked, “Is it my imagination or did the translation improve during the induction?”
“It wasn’t just you,” she agreed. “It seems to work as well as the Gnomish one did, at least on my end. Was that it? I’m—” She cut off, noticing the ‘X’ on the back of her right hand. “Does that mean ten? How did that appear? I didn’t even feel it.”
“Hmm? Yes. You can go ahead and put the necklace back on, if you wish. The important questions have been asked and answered. The city handles all Point calculations. You’ve been marked, now you’ve gone through induction.”
Putting the gnomish translation necklace on, her eyes watering as her brain tingled. After wiping her eyes, she inspected the black ‘10’ on her hand. “The city did it? Is it alive? Some kind of…” She started to say ‘computer’ but wasn’t sure how that would translate, and didn’t feel like having that conversation right now. “...golem?”
The guard grunted. “A question for historians and scholars. The city does what it does. I just work here.”
He said the last like she was supposed to laugh. She managed a snort.
“Is that it then?” she asked.
The guard paused, as if considering for a moment, before saying, “A warning, since you’re unfamiliar with the city:
“As long as the golem is with you you have nothing to worry about. However, that armor you wear is of the highest quality. Enchanted silk. It’s lightweight, stronger than steel. Probably repairs itself and stays clean, too. Given I recognize the craftsmanship, I can assume the Archivist gave it to you?”
He continued after she nodded, “I’m sure he had his reasons. Whatever the case, there are plenty who might consider holding you down and stripping you to be worth the loss of a few Points, once they realize you’re not some rich noble girl, which is what you look like, until they catch a glimpse of your Points.
“That said, it’s good stuff. Out in the wilds it might save your life. If you don’t think you can hold your own and don’t want to get stripped in some alley, or worse out beyond these walls, consider looking into a concealing cloak or enchantment to disguise its worth, if the golem isn’t to be following you around as a bodyguard.”
Alice focused on the last thing he said, not sure what to think about the expensive armor not even being mentioned as a gift in her letter from the Archivist. “A bodyguard?”
“Who gets penalized if a golem attacks or kills someone?” he asked, continuing on before she could answer. “No one, that’s who. They’re the Runic Council’s enforcers. Shouldn’t even be allowed within the city.” He shrugged. “But no one asked me.”
He stood and gestured at the door, “Best of luck to you, miss…?”
“Alice,” she answered with a smile. “Alice Anderson. Thank you for your time, Sergeant…?”
“Just Sergeant.” He tapped his faceplate. “Us guards must remain anonymous, for a number of reasons.” After a moment he added, “All we learn while wearing the helmets is bound by the strictest of confidentiality oaths. Should we again cross paths, be it while I am in uniform or not, I will behave as if we have never met.”
He pressed something beneath his desk which caused the door outside to swing open.
With crossed arms he said, “Welcome to the cities of humanity, Mistress Anderson. May your days be filled with joy, your harvests bountiful, your endeavors fruitful.” With that he gave her a shallow bow.
She crossed her arms, saying, “Joyful days, bountiful harvests, and fruitful endeavors to you as well,” before bowing back. After a pause she relaxed and grinned. “Did I do that right?”
He chuckled from behind the helmet. “It is a bit less formal to shorten it, but yes, in this setting that would be an appropriate response for one of your age. Shortening to ‘fruitful endeavors’ is the most casual, used in passing. There are many nuances to it, but you will pick them up in time. When in doubt, more formal is considered more polite, if possibly a bit stuffy.”