They walked the block back to the central square at a brisk pace, Nate in silence, Christophe blabbering the whole way. Nate half-listened, the rest of his attention focused on the street around them. The mysterious cloaked figure made Nate uneasy, but he quickly put aside that concern for later when he saw a familiar form slink out of the guard station only a few moments after they had started walking. He had never gotten the second guard’s name, the brusk one with the steely gray in his beard. The man had never introduced himself, and Nate’s identify had told him nothing other than that the guard was human. Nate had taken to calling him Bad Cop in his head.
Bad Cop was trying to be stealthy, and he wasn’t doing too bad a job at it. Other than the initial sighting of him, when he had been framed in the doorway by the light spilling out, Nate had only caught one or two more quick looks at him as he moved silently from one building to another. If it weren’t for the fact that the streets here were so empty, Nate wouldn’t have even caught that. He was certain he would quickly lose track of the man when they reached the crowd.
Nate groaned entirely. The interaction at the guard station had gone better than he expected, and he was hoping that, after releasing him, the guards would quickly forget about him. Once again, his supposed luck was mysteriously absent. At least one of the guards didn’t believe Nate was quite as innocent as he professed, and he now had a tail. One day in, and he had already angered a key member of one of these powerful Factions everyone kept yammering about and drawn the suspicion of the city guard. He would need to be more cautious going forward.
On the bright side, he had managed to pick up at least one ally. He didn’t put a lot of faith in his new friend’s floating lightbulb to save his ass a second time, though.
That thought drew Nate’s attention back to Christophe. Who was still talking.
“…over 100 years. I’m sure the speech will be the same generic welcome he gives every time, but I’m still excited to see him! I’m more interested in what the trainers at the Traveler’s Retreat might share tomorrow. I’m hoping to get some insights on the best way to start adventuring, and I’m hoping to be ready to join a sponsored excursion as quickly as possible. My family has put a lot of faith in me, and I need to…”
Nate nodded along, though he lacked the context to understand much of what the boy said. Fortunately, his monologue didn’t seem to require any external inputs to keep going.
Then they rounded the corner, saw the square, and even Christophe seemed momentarily at a loss for words.
Their timing seemed to have been perfect. The chaotic noise of the crowd was quieting to a soft buzz, as a small group made their way onto a large platform that had been erected on the far end. There were three of them, with some kind of large, furry bag being dragged along between them. All three had dark skin that reflected light from the glowing tower like obsidian, and rather than the collection of armor and robes everyone else wore, these three were nearly naked, with only a series of leather straps to hold weapons and equipment in place. They were completely hairless. Nate tried using identify on the closest one.
{Name: Unknown Class: Unknown Race: Geomancer}
Morgan snorted in annoyance at the almost useless text.
Fortunately, Christophe rediscovered his voice.
“We made it! The City Lord is about to speak. And look, her personal guard! I’ve never seen a Geomancer, have you? They are supposed to be quite fierce. These ones are only level 10, of course, but still, they are an impressive sight.”
“How do you know what level they are?” Nate had no idea what a Geomancer was, but, if he asked, he might never get Christophe back to this more important question. “Can you identify them?”
“Oh, no, my identify is as novice level. But 10 is the level cap for the region, and the City Lord’s guards must be max level. So, it just makes sense.”
Nate thought about that as he watched the small group continue to shuffle awkwardly towards the edge of the stage, their progress slow under the weight of the strange lumpy bag between them.
Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
“So, where is the City Lord?” Nate asked absently, tracking the progress of the party. Christophe gave him an odd look.
“What do you mean? He’s right there.” He pointed at the little cluster of Geomancer’s with their strange burden. Nate stared in confusion.
It didn’t click until all three Geomancers stepped away, taking up positions around the lip of the stage. The bag they had been carrying did not collapse as Nate expected. Instead, it took an unsteady step forward. Then it spoke, yelling at one of the retreating Geomancers.
“Frankie, you bastard! This isn’t the whorehouse!”
That’s when it clicked. The furry bag the Geomancer’s had been carrying was actually a massive rodent. And, apparently, the City Lord.
“What!...Oh. Fuck. This again.” The furry creature, who looked more like the world’s biggest prairie dog than a rat, swayed again as he slurred out the words. His voice was high and nasally. Like the Geomancers, he wore no armor or robes. Unlike them, he carried no weapons or equipment of any kind. He was a just a big animal, his brown fur mottled and patchy in places.
The crowd had gone silent at the spectacle. The bleary-eyed City Lord looked over the assembly. Then he belched.
“Fine. Whatever. I’ll do the damn speech, if it will make you happy,” he snarled, staring daggers at one of the Geomancers. “But I’m not doing it with a dry throat.”
A bottle materialized from nothing in the City Lord’s clawed paw. He threw back his head and took a long, noisy swig.
Which is when Nate realized that the creature was drunk.
“Okay, let’s see,” the City Lord said with a dramatic sigh as he attempted to focus on the crowd. “Travelers. New Travelers. You’re here…well, most of you probably don’t want to be here. Tough shit. I don’t want to be here, either. Yet here we are.”
The rodent chuckled darkly and took another swig from the bottle before continuing.
“I am Darlish, your City Lord. Yes, Lord of the shithole of Dawn. Where no one wants to go, and almost no one ever leaves. Ain’t that some poetic bullshit?”
Darlish cackled, then staggered and almost collapsed before righting himself. One of the Geomancers, the one the City Lord had been yelling at, took a step towards Darlish and seemed to whisper something.
“I know! I’m getting to it!” Darlish snapped. The Geomancer didn’t seem bothered by the reprimand, but returned to his post.
“Anyway, my job is to tell you the rules. So here it goes. One, no fighting in the city. I mean, you can, obviously. But if you get caught, the guards will be pissed. If you have a Faction, they make them pay out the ass for any trouble you cause. If you can’t pay the fines, they toss you out of the city. It would be kinder if they just killed you. But there you go.”
Darlish continued to sway and slur, but he seemed to gain strength as he went, clearly familiar with this speech.
“Outside the city, all bets are off. There’s monsters and shit out there. Most of them aren’t very strong, but then, neither are any of you!” Darlish laughed so hard he started to choke, and the crowd was silent for a full minute while the rodent hacked and coughed on his own flem. Finally, he regained his breath.
“If you want to survive out there, you’ll need to go with people. A party! Just don’t trust any of those bastards. Remember, everyone’s in it for themselves. Better to stab a friend in the back then wait until he decides to stab yours. Do it right, and you’ll get stronger. Gain levels. Do it wrong, and you’ll get dead. Or worse. Hell, they might make you the fucking City Lord!”
Darlish attempted to take another drink, but discovered he had already drained the bottle. He grumbled and hurled the bottle into the crowd with surprising force. Nate saw it plink noisily off the helmeted head of a Traveler in the front row, who instantly collapsed from sight.
“Oh. Sorry about that. Anyway, if you make it all the way to level 10, you can go to the System Palace up in the mountains for class reassignment. That will give you a power boost, and qualify you to leave the valley. Of course, once you leave, you can’t come back. The whole area is System locked to anyone above level 10. Which is why most of you won’t even bother. I know most of you don’t give a shit about the quests or the rewards the fucking jewels or any of it. You know the truth. You were mostly sent here to die by people who didn’t want you, and running around Farandway risking your lives doesn’t benefit you in the slightest. So, my advice, find a nice little spot here in Dawn and get cozy. Learn a trade. Find the best pubs and the best whorehouses. You’re going to be here a long time.”
Darlish stumbled back from the stage, looking like he was ready to be done. The same Geomancer from before approached, whispering again. Darlish scowled. At least, Nate thought he scowled. It was hard read expressions on a rodent of such unusual size.
“Oh, yeah. Tonight’s a free night, but shit gets real tomorrow. By the time you wake up, the quest system will be activated. You’ll see it added to your menus. Taking quests will help you level up. Not that it really matters.”
With that, the strange creature stumbled back, and the Geomancer guards rushed in to support him as he staggered back across the stage.
Christophe turned to Nate, his eyes wide and his jaw hanging open.
“Can you believe that?” Christophe whispered.
“Yeah. That was…”
“City Lord Darlish himself! What an honor! Come on, let’s get some food before its all gone.!” Christophe rushed off into the crowd.