Kapowne
Into Zanarkand
Hey!
If you're dropping by then I hope you're ready to do some reading! I have been getting tired of being ghosted by other role-play partners so I started to just write by myself... and well... now I have 20 some pages of totally original story that I honestly don't know if is good or not... Don't worry! I'm not posting all 20 pages.. I've included the first few pages though. please dont feel like I expect you to read everything, but please, please, please leave some constructive criticism. I would like to know how to make this story as excellent as possible as I am actually starting to get really into it.
Please understand that I am sure there are spelling or grammatical errors, I'm no professional writer. but if you notice something glaring, feel free to say something, otherwise I am looking for criticism regarding how well the story flows, the characters, speech, and well anything else you think of!
So without further ado... Welcome to Lunt!
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Boots crunch in the sand as he walked towards the city gates, the sun beating down on his sweaty body. His brown leather jacket zipped and strapped tightly to his body covering his arms and holding the impossible heat in. Short brown hair slick with sweat, And legs crying for reprieve from inside dirty denim jeans. He approached the gates looking upward, the wonder of Lunt city shone down for all to see. A city of pipes they said, more water than any man could drink, a heaven made by man, for man. The intricate structure of pipes seem to continue skyward forever; weaving in and out of each other. Buildings seemed to sit cradled in-between the various pipes and shafts. Finally he came to the check-in station, just inside the gate, wordlessly he got in line, hoping for a quick wait. Before him stood a large Orc man with very long greasy hair, He was clad in very dusty and dirty clothes. Obviously a farmer. Or rather maybe a Herder in these parts. Looking up at the city the man doubted they have a need for water farms. He stood silently for a few moments and waited his turn with tempered patients. As he finally stepped up to the window he was greeted by a rather nasty looking Goblin woman. Her dark green completion with yellow eyes peered up at him from behind the window.
“State yer name’n’business.” She grumbled at him in her harsh goblin accent.
“Uh… Desmond is my name. Freelance Bounty Hunting is my game! You’ve got a job that needs doing I’m your man!” He smirked an awkward smile at the Goblin woman, for some reason hoping to make a good impression.
She seemed unfazed by his comment as she typed away on her computer. Eventually her gave a tired whirring sound as the printer generated an ID card for him.
“Ere ye go Dusmnd. Yu’ll see yer water lotments n the card. Try not to ovr use it now. Welcome to Lunt.” She grumbles a him.“Next.” She called out as she waved him aside.
As he walked through the guarded doors, officially entering the city, he began to wander about, not really sure what to do first. . Desmond looked down at the ID card in his hand. The computer seemed to have caught his picture during his awkward smile, giving him a terrible ID picture.. Desmond groaned and scanned the ID card into his comms unit clasped to his left forearm. He stopped for a moment thinking of what he should do first. He decided he should probably open his mail and re-read the Email from Tabart, double tapping the screen on his left forearm, his comms unit blinked to life, a holographic screen about 5 inches by 5 inches came to life above his forearm. He selected his Mailbox and opened the email to read it once more.
“Hey kid,
I’m running dry on work for you here. Head to the capital city of Lunt west of here. They always have work for talented kids like yourself. Once you get into the city find a bar named ‘Smokey’s’. The owner, Smokey runs a nice little bar in the lower dregs of the city on the east side if I recall correct.. He owes me some favors and more money than I care to think about... Tell him I sent you and he will take care of ya, probably.... Anyways, play the game hard kid. Lots of freelancers out there who’ll try to gobble you right up.
~Tabart”
Might as well head for Smokey’s then he mumbled to himself. He swiped back on his comms to go back to the main menu, and tried to pull up an area map, but realized he hadn’t synced up at a comms station yet. With a quick facepalm, desmond looked up, his eyes darted around looking for the hologram that usually denotes a comms station, he just hoped that Lunt was the same as all the villages he had passed through to get here... After a few moments searching he sighed in relief, as he found one, double tapping comms unit again it powered down, the holographic screen vanishing. he walked over quickly, dodging between the crowds that walked this way and that, finally reaching the station. Comma stations were about waist height with a large blue hologram that cricked above it saying “comma station here!” With a downward arrow. They were quite helpful not only for those with portable comm units, but those without them too. Desmond pulled the cable adapter from the station, plugging it into his own comm. loading the city map into it. Unlinking the adapter it whirred as the station automatically retracted it. As Desmond walked away, he pulled up the local map again, Typing into the directory “Smokey’s” a red dot appeared on the map. ETA 1hr 16 min walking. 30 minute drive.Desmond groaned. That was such a long walk! After a moment he decided walking would probably be more beneficial in the long run. It’s important for a freelancer to know his work area. He thought to himself. Desmond set out in an easterly direction. As he walked he could see many diverse cultures, races and shops lining the street, bustling with business. Desmond looked up over head and could see hover cars racing through the sky, a rare sight to see, he didn't know of anywhere else in the world that had such abundance of wealth. Funny enough while looking up Desmond tried to spot the blue hue denoting the sky but all he saw were the cars, shops, billboards and pipes of the massively large city. I should try to go to the largest viewpoint in the city sometime. I’ll bet it’s awesome! Desmond Thought to himself.
Once again looking to the crowds of people Desmond could see goblin children racing through the streets playing games with human, and elven children alike. Not a sight usually seen in most villages, let alone his home town of Castor.
Hmph. Castor. Desmond think to himself. I haven’t thought of that cesspit in months. Filled with nothing but greedy racist humans trying to keep away anything they didn’t understand. Anything considered non-human was pushed away and ignored. There was only ever one saving grace to Castor city, and that was Tabart. A very large human woman. Her bright red hair was like a beacon to the unwanted and undesired. She ran a tavern and backyard orphanage. Sure she made the kids earn their keep by doing chores, tending bar, cooking meals and washing dishes, but it gave them character, and taught them the value of hard work. Desmond remembered the first time she sent him on a monster bounty. A Craghammer. A large worm like beast that dwells in the sand dunes, had taken up residence next to a local water farm and its digging in and out of the ground was causing trouble for the farmers. Desmond remembered Tabart saying that his particular gifts were perfect for the task.
Lost in thought over castor and Tabart, Desmond stopped watching where he was walking and bumped into a well-dressed elven man. He wore a suit and tie with short blond hair that was slicked back. His face was adorned with the traditional face tattoos of an elven warrior. He was surprisingly tall and glared down at Desmond.
“Hey there boy, how about watching where you walk eh?” spitting venom filled words at Him.
“Ah sorry about that. New to the city and got caught up in the sights. You understand right?” Desmond replied giving him a courteous smile, hoping he would let him off the hook.
The elf rolled his eyes, turning around saying “whatever, human. Just watch where you walk. Qi Namarie.” Giving you the standard elven farewell. Taking more care to watch where he was going, Desmond made his way to Smokey’s bar without further incident.
Walking up to the building with the bright red neon sign reading “Smokey’s” Desmond took a moment to asses the building itself. Two large metal doors marked the entrance. A row of parking directly in front was filled with Hoverbikes, beaten broken and heavily painted. The windows appeared to be in similar disrepair, some of them boarded up. The Neon sign had several letters flickering on and off, if there was any indication as to the type of place he was about to enter, he figured that would be it... Rust seemed to have claimed many corners of the building in a dark red-brown hue, And tiles from the roof were clearly falling off in chunks, he didn’t understand why there were tiles to begin with if the whole thing was made of steel… must have been a stylistic choice, he decided. Desmond stepped up to the doorway and grasped the handle pulling the door open with more force that he initially thought needed, making his entrance a little more forceful and perhaps hostile than he had intended.. As he walked inside he found that he had to squint into the smoky darkness to see anything. The smell hits hit him right after that. Stale cigarettes and booze, a winning combination, he was all too familiar with, unfortunately it didn’t mean he liked it... As Desmond’s eyes finally adjusted he could finally start to make things out, and realized that the inside wasn’t in much better condition that the outside. Tables sat crooked and half broken. the booths were just plain metal were the cushions should have been, but it appeared they were torn from them. Dried food crumbs, sticky booze stains blanketed the floor. Desmond made his way over to the only halfway clean thing in this wreck, the bar, Well lit and freshly wiped down he was greeted by a middle aged Orc. His hair buzzed short with white stubble still growing in. His tusks a grotesque shade of yellow, his beard an almost glowing white, that came down to his middle chest. The white of his beard does a good job of distracting from the unbelievable physique of this old orc, even from here, an easy ten to fifteen feet away Desmond could see the veins clearly bulging his rippling muscles. The orc wore a simple black shirt tucked into his belt with a flannel over the top. After a moment Desmond realized he was staring. Walking up to the bar he asked for Smokey.
“You seem a bit young to be asking for that kind of trouble, boy.” the elderly Orc answered placing extra emphasis on the word ‘boy’. Surprisingly he only had a little hint of an orcish accent, but then he chuckled quietly. “But yeah sure, that’s me alright. What can I do for you?” he looked Desmond directly in the eye.
Meeting his gaze seemed oddly difficult for Desmond, who usually had no problems being polite and courteous. Desmond averted his gaze under the weight of the Orcs stare.“Uh… Tabart said you would be able to help me out, said I could find you here.” Desmond stated meekly, avoiding his harsh gaze yet still. Almost immediately after saying the name Desmond could see his face glow hot and red, almost literally. It almost seemed as if steam was about to blow from his ears.
“TARBART?!” he yelled into his face as the whole bar went silent.
Before Desmond could even an react he reached out grabbing him by the Collar and lifting him clean off the ground. The bar stays silent save for Desmond’s fruitless struggles.
“TARBART?!” he yelled once again.
Fear seeped into his very core, Did she seriously send me to my death? What kind of joke is she playing? How the hell could this guy help me? Other than kill me? Desmond thought as he continued questioning his particular choices in life. Suddenly Desmond felt himself losing control of his power. All he wanted was this guy to let go. He saw the the tattoo on the back of his left hand light up, feeling his palms get warm, really warm. Desmond knew what he was doing, He knew it could be dangerous, but this Orc had triggered his own defense mechanism, which was currently screaming for freedom. Smokey let out a yelp letting Desmond go. All Desmond could see now was red, as now it was his turn to stare him down, rage filled his chest, and he fought his inner demon for control, not wanting to burn this place to the ground. Desmond unconsciously pulling raw, hot, crackling fire into his hands in a display of total aggression letting Smokey just who was about to get smoked, as he was more than capable of defending himself.
“Woah woah woah there boy! You can cool it!” Smokey’s eyes were wide, not with fear, but something else, he dusted the smoke and embers off his sleeves then held his arms up.“I didn’t realize this was why that bastard sent you to me.” He half whispered as he pulled up one of his sleeves just enough so that Desmond could see that Underneath there were similar tattoos to his covering all the flesh of his arm.
“Wait… so you're like me? You're a sorcerer?” Desmond whispered incredulously, whispering the last as not to attract more attention from the crowd around them, granted there weren’t a lot of people, maybe four or five. But it was still a secret he held closely... Desmond’s eyes were getting clearer, the heat dissipating as his conscious mind took control back.
“Yes, we’re both sorcerers, you and I, but you don't have to worry about hiding it so much in here. All my regulars i would trust with my life.” he says, a deep, drunken cheer from the single occupied table on the far right of the room. .“Now what say you sit down and we have a good honest chat about everything here. Eh? I'll even give you a fizzie since i doubt you can drink. Hehe” he jokes at Desmond.
“I'm more than old enough to drink.” Desmond gave as a curt retort.
“Heh okay. Now tell me. How long have you been developing your power? What's your level of control?” he asked in a low private voice, peering through a raised eyebrow curiously. The table of regulars returned their attentions to themselves, as it was clear Smokey wasn’t interest in giving a show any longer.
“Well, at first it was pretty hard. I couldn't get more than a few cinders... but now i can empower my daggers, fire balls of flame, and do all kinds of crazy stuff.”
Smoky considered Desmond for a long moment. When he finally spoke he basically vomiting the information at Desmond, as if he had somehow passed some kind of character test.
“Well boy, First things first. Know that the people of Lunt don't travel much, since almost everything they need is right here in the city, so most of them think people like you and I are myths. Children of demons. Sorcerers, summoners, marked, whatever you call us, it's all the same. So keep those tattoos covered! However the occasional slip won’t kill you. But Only show people you feel you can absolutely trust.” He pauses for a minute as he picked up another glass and began wiping it down with a rag. “Now onto business. I'm sure that wench Tabart sent you here for some work. Plenty of work to be had here as a freelancer. So…. let's see here.”
Smokey walked over to a computer board on the far left side of the bar. It looked real old and real beat up. On Smokey’s side is the actual computer keyboard where he loads in jobs manually, and they appear on the large touch screen on the customer side for freelancers to select and take. Smokey types into the pad for a second and it whirrs to life. A massive list of jobs populate. Desmond’s eyes widen in amazement of the sheer amount of jobs
“Alright, alright. Don't get too excited. Here in Lunt we had a problem a while back with under qualified freelancers going out on jobs and getting themselves killed, or worse. So now we have a pretty little grading system. When a job is posted the system analyzes potential risk and assigns a letter. Now as i'm sure you can guess, you have to have the letter assigned to take the job. Scan your ID and let's see what letter you have.”
Smokey says, smiling at Desmond expectantly.
Desmond pulls a little cable out from the side of his comms unit plugging it into the side of he display monitor. The machine loads for a minute then displays “Desmond Aurey” and lists the letter “D” automatically loading once more, filtering out anything above letter D. leaving him with what appears to be a still significant list of jobs.
“So uh. I suppose you don't have a place to stay or nothing. If you give me a cut of all the jobs you do i'll put in a good word for you to stay at the inn next door. I don't much like helping Tabarts swine, but I suppose i do owe her a life debt or two.” he grumbles in Desmond’s general direction.
“How do you know Tabart? She wouldn’t say before i left.” Desmond inquired seriously, Remembering his less than welcoming reaction to Tabarts mere mention, sending a shiver rolling down his spine.
He looks at Desmond, obviously contemplating whether to tell him or not.
“Well, I'm no fan of hers. Sorta thing Tends to happen when someone leaves you at the altar.” his eyes drop to the ground going to a faraway place. Desmond started to think this might not be the best topic to pry into.
“Er, okay! I'm gonna take a job for now and see if i can't make some money in this big city!” Desmond exclaimed thumbing towards Smokey, attempting to change the subject. Smokey looked up at him with a wide smile, pointing with his thumb at the computer.
“plug your ID again then. The lancer board has timed out. Oh and that's what i like to call the board. Most bars will have one of these. They go by many names though, Bounty board, lancer board. FLB; short for freelancer board. Call it what you will, you'll make money just the same.” He said chuckling to himself.
Walking over to the Freelancer board Desmond plugged his ID in again. the board began to shuffle the large list of jobs into a somewhat smaller list of jobs. Desmond quickly noticed he could filter through the job requests by “category”. There seemed to be a job for everything, gathering cooking ingredients, Bounties, hunting dangerous beasts, travel guarding, bodyguarding, searching for artifacts... any anything else one might imagine. Desmond decided to start off with something easy, something he was familiar with. He was able to find a common job that seemed to have been posted a couple times. The title read “Snarlers attacking the herd” Desmond knew snarlers to be a disgusting breed of wolf. The sand and magic of the world mutated them into creatures with hard leather hides and saliva like acid, They’re about four feet tall and rove in packs of 4-8. They are vicious and violent to a fault.
Opening the request Desmond read the description.
“Well dangit, new pack dun formed gain. Shit... i’ll pay any dang fool to kill dis pack n even more, ifn you find n kill dat pack mother. I’m so sick o postin this damn request. I'll treat you tew a cup o water n 100 units four each one killed. N dat pack mother i'll give a gallon n 500 units. N you'll be damned ifn you ask for a drop or unit more!
~Hurley 60 West gate, 3 miles out on Hurley farm”
Satisfied that this is a gig he could do, Desmond pushed the ‘commit’ button. Before he headed out, desmond decided it was probably a good idea to eat something. He remembered what the goblin woman at the gate said about his water allotments. He had forgotten to look at how much he was allowed, so he checked his ID card. Disappointingly he was greeted by a measly number 2. not sure what that meant he turned around ask smokey
“So I would like some food and some water to drink but… my card says water allotment two. What does that mean?”
“What? You don't have water rations assigned in your hometown? Humph well over here you get a certain amount of water based on your contributions to Lunt. right now you only have two. So that’s two cups of water a day. Use them wisely!” he says to Desmond, emphasising the last part, looking him in the eye. Smokey walks into the back presumably getting Desmond the food he had asked for, As he walks away for the first time Desmond could see him below the belt, wat greeted his eyes was one leg that was quite clearly mechanical, sticking out of a pair of cargo shorts, that Smokey was wearing. Desmond looked around the room; seeing different TVs mounted to the ceiling showing different programs, news, sports and sitcoms. He also took a few peeks at the different guests in the bar. There were 3 people at a table nearby. A gnome and two humans. They looked down on their luck, drunken and playing a card game. However each were armed. They had similar leather jackets on, no doubt denoting their gang affiliations, or perhaps a crew that they ran with. After looking one up and down for a little too long the human notices Desmond’s stares and returns him a long glare.
“Whatcha lookin at kid?!” he snarls at Desmond in a loud drunken stupor.
Desmond quickly turned away not wanting any trouble. However the older, drunken man wouldn't be having it. Clearly he wasn't having a good day, and was looking to take it out on Smokey’s new friend. He stood up from his seat, his long white beard sliding off the table and onto his belly, As his chair slid backwards, making a dull groaning sound, Smokey, from the back yelled, “that better not be threatening talk to the new kid I hear, Shamus!” Desmond looked back at who he could only assume must have been shamus, he looked pretty spooked and gave Desmond a slight but apologetic wave, looking back down to his cards and drink. Smokey must not be one to mess with… Desmond thought. He sat in uncomfortable silence for a few more minutes until smokey came back, A mug of water in one hand and a plate of food in the other.
“One mug o’ water and a burger with a marlock egg on top. I'll start you a tab.” he says with a chuckle. Desmond happily ate the food placed in front of him. Sure, it wasn't the best food he had ever eaten, no comparison to Tabarts food, but enjoyable. Desmond finished eating, looked at his comms unit. It was 19:35 stayed a bit longer than i should have… Desmond thought. But it was no matter. He decided to ask about lodging, and he tells him to head next door and mention his name, Smokey, and they will set him up in the discounted rate.
“You’re sure they won't choke me if i mention your name?” Desmond asked jokingly, a sharp smirk on his face.
“Bahahaha! As long as you don't burn them alive, i can't imagine they will!” he laughs a deep and true laugh. Desmond proceeds to walk out the door and turns to the building on the left. Another beaten and haggard building greeted him. This time though it was large. It takes up more than triple the real estate of Smokey’s and is in the shape of a large letter U, and goes about 3 stories into the sky. Desmond walked over to what he had to assume was the office due to the large neon OPEN sign that was clearly either dead, or not turned on. He walked in, stating he was there at the direction of Smokey. the lady behind the counter, a short troll woman ran him through the whole procedure, she made him scan his comms unit in to get a key, gave him the first 3 nights for free, per some special arrangement with Smokey. She explained in a thick trollish accent how to find his room, what times he needed to check out by or he would be automatically billed another day, if he couldn’t afford a payment the room would lock him out, and anything inside was forfeit. With that out of the way, Desmond nodded, smiled and made his way to his room, climbing the multiple steps to the 3rd floor. His room was the third on the left as the manager had explained. As he enters he could see it was really rather plain inside. A single bed, a shader window on the far side with a desk in front of it, a small closet to on his left open with what looked to be a mini fridge below, and a bathroom hallway to his right. All in all maybe 200sq ft. Desmond took a few minutes to undress, hanging his clothes up in the closet. He noticed the big white hunk on the floor of the closet and decided to check the fridge for any potential ‘goodies’, but it was empty. Desmond, scratching his head walked to the bathroom and looked in the mirror. He stared at himself, looking at his own reflection. Dark tribal like tattoos covered his body from his collarbone to his ankles, his shoulders to the back of his hands. Almost every inch of his front and back was covered. He thought back to when tabart told him what the tattoos meant, that they are the markings of “the devil's children”, or more accurately the children of demons. Desmond never knew his parents, so he couldn't ask. He knew one of his parents had to have been a demon, but which one? He walked into the shower and the pressurized gas cleaned him off quick. Desmond always remembers that in the old world people were said to use water to bathe, but now water is far too precious to waste on bathing. So now people use a form of pressurized air and gas to clean, and it's more efficient anyway... Desmond flopped himself in bed and set his comm to wake him up at 07:00 sharp, then slid it onto the nearby nightstand.
Desmond found it difficult to doze off however. After rolling about for another half an hour he snatched up his comms unit again and looked at the local news, figuring hat would put him to sleep. The first headline read as follows.
“3 more mages gone missing!”
Desmond Recalls that mages are people who are born with an aptitude for magic. Similar to him yet very different. Desmond’s magic was ingrained in his body, it was of one element, and he had t learn to wield it through action and emotion. Mages however are able to use the magic of the world, they can use any element and learn to wield it through books or training. Tabart always said that Sorcerers element magic was far superior to anything a mage could do, but to always try to pass himself off as a mage, if he ever got caught using magic that was. Desmond was curious… and decided to open the story, the first thing he saw was a list of hundreds of names. Apparently All mages reported missing. There are individual bounties for the missing persons but no freelancer had yet to find even a single one. Strange. Desmond had never attempted to find a missing person before, but he couldn’t imagine it was very difficult… he read through some of the comments on the post… most were from family members of those lost. They were angry, but there was a lot of sadness too, people who just wanted their loved ones back…others who just wanted something to bury.. Desmond decided bag was enough reading for one night. Turned his comms unit off and went to sleep. He and come here to help people… sure, but he also came to make money. Others will help these people…. at least he hoped so…
If you're dropping by then I hope you're ready to do some reading! I have been getting tired of being ghosted by other role-play partners so I started to just write by myself... and well... now I have 20 some pages of totally original story that I honestly don't know if is good or not... Don't worry! I'm not posting all 20 pages.. I've included the first few pages though. please dont feel like I expect you to read everything, but please, please, please leave some constructive criticism. I would like to know how to make this story as excellent as possible as I am actually starting to get really into it.
Please understand that I am sure there are spelling or grammatical errors, I'm no professional writer. but if you notice something glaring, feel free to say something, otherwise I am looking for criticism regarding how well the story flows, the characters, speech, and well anything else you think of!
So without further ado... Welcome to Lunt!
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Boots crunch in the sand as he walked towards the city gates, the sun beating down on his sweaty body. His brown leather jacket zipped and strapped tightly to his body covering his arms and holding the impossible heat in. Short brown hair slick with sweat, And legs crying for reprieve from inside dirty denim jeans. He approached the gates looking upward, the wonder of Lunt city shone down for all to see. A city of pipes they said, more water than any man could drink, a heaven made by man, for man. The intricate structure of pipes seem to continue skyward forever; weaving in and out of each other. Buildings seemed to sit cradled in-between the various pipes and shafts. Finally he came to the check-in station, just inside the gate, wordlessly he got in line, hoping for a quick wait. Before him stood a large Orc man with very long greasy hair, He was clad in very dusty and dirty clothes. Obviously a farmer. Or rather maybe a Herder in these parts. Looking up at the city the man doubted they have a need for water farms. He stood silently for a few moments and waited his turn with tempered patients. As he finally stepped up to the window he was greeted by a rather nasty looking Goblin woman. Her dark green completion with yellow eyes peered up at him from behind the window.
“State yer name’n’business.” She grumbled at him in her harsh goblin accent.
“Uh… Desmond is my name. Freelance Bounty Hunting is my game! You’ve got a job that needs doing I’m your man!” He smirked an awkward smile at the Goblin woman, for some reason hoping to make a good impression.
She seemed unfazed by his comment as she typed away on her computer. Eventually her gave a tired whirring sound as the printer generated an ID card for him.
“Ere ye go Dusmnd. Yu’ll see yer water lotments n the card. Try not to ovr use it now. Welcome to Lunt.” She grumbles a him.“Next.” She called out as she waved him aside.
As he walked through the guarded doors, officially entering the city, he began to wander about, not really sure what to do first. . Desmond looked down at the ID card in his hand. The computer seemed to have caught his picture during his awkward smile, giving him a terrible ID picture.. Desmond groaned and scanned the ID card into his comms unit clasped to his left forearm. He stopped for a moment thinking of what he should do first. He decided he should probably open his mail and re-read the Email from Tabart, double tapping the screen on his left forearm, his comms unit blinked to life, a holographic screen about 5 inches by 5 inches came to life above his forearm. He selected his Mailbox and opened the email to read it once more.
“Hey kid,
I’m running dry on work for you here. Head to the capital city of Lunt west of here. They always have work for talented kids like yourself. Once you get into the city find a bar named ‘Smokey’s’. The owner, Smokey runs a nice little bar in the lower dregs of the city on the east side if I recall correct.. He owes me some favors and more money than I care to think about... Tell him I sent you and he will take care of ya, probably.... Anyways, play the game hard kid. Lots of freelancers out there who’ll try to gobble you right up.
~Tabart”
Might as well head for Smokey’s then he mumbled to himself. He swiped back on his comms to go back to the main menu, and tried to pull up an area map, but realized he hadn’t synced up at a comms station yet. With a quick facepalm, desmond looked up, his eyes darted around looking for the hologram that usually denotes a comms station, he just hoped that Lunt was the same as all the villages he had passed through to get here... After a few moments searching he sighed in relief, as he found one, double tapping comms unit again it powered down, the holographic screen vanishing. he walked over quickly, dodging between the crowds that walked this way and that, finally reaching the station. Comma stations were about waist height with a large blue hologram that cricked above it saying “comma station here!” With a downward arrow. They were quite helpful not only for those with portable comm units, but those without them too. Desmond pulled the cable adapter from the station, plugging it into his own comm. loading the city map into it. Unlinking the adapter it whirred as the station automatically retracted it. As Desmond walked away, he pulled up the local map again, Typing into the directory “Smokey’s” a red dot appeared on the map. ETA 1hr 16 min walking. 30 minute drive.Desmond groaned. That was such a long walk! After a moment he decided walking would probably be more beneficial in the long run. It’s important for a freelancer to know his work area. He thought to himself. Desmond set out in an easterly direction. As he walked he could see many diverse cultures, races and shops lining the street, bustling with business. Desmond looked up over head and could see hover cars racing through the sky, a rare sight to see, he didn't know of anywhere else in the world that had such abundance of wealth. Funny enough while looking up Desmond tried to spot the blue hue denoting the sky but all he saw were the cars, shops, billboards and pipes of the massively large city. I should try to go to the largest viewpoint in the city sometime. I’ll bet it’s awesome! Desmond Thought to himself.
Once again looking to the crowds of people Desmond could see goblin children racing through the streets playing games with human, and elven children alike. Not a sight usually seen in most villages, let alone his home town of Castor.
Hmph. Castor. Desmond think to himself. I haven’t thought of that cesspit in months. Filled with nothing but greedy racist humans trying to keep away anything they didn’t understand. Anything considered non-human was pushed away and ignored. There was only ever one saving grace to Castor city, and that was Tabart. A very large human woman. Her bright red hair was like a beacon to the unwanted and undesired. She ran a tavern and backyard orphanage. Sure she made the kids earn their keep by doing chores, tending bar, cooking meals and washing dishes, but it gave them character, and taught them the value of hard work. Desmond remembered the first time she sent him on a monster bounty. A Craghammer. A large worm like beast that dwells in the sand dunes, had taken up residence next to a local water farm and its digging in and out of the ground was causing trouble for the farmers. Desmond remembered Tabart saying that his particular gifts were perfect for the task.
Lost in thought over castor and Tabart, Desmond stopped watching where he was walking and bumped into a well-dressed elven man. He wore a suit and tie with short blond hair that was slicked back. His face was adorned with the traditional face tattoos of an elven warrior. He was surprisingly tall and glared down at Desmond.
“Hey there boy, how about watching where you walk eh?” spitting venom filled words at Him.
“Ah sorry about that. New to the city and got caught up in the sights. You understand right?” Desmond replied giving him a courteous smile, hoping he would let him off the hook.
The elf rolled his eyes, turning around saying “whatever, human. Just watch where you walk. Qi Namarie.” Giving you the standard elven farewell. Taking more care to watch where he was going, Desmond made his way to Smokey’s bar without further incident.
Walking up to the building with the bright red neon sign reading “Smokey’s” Desmond took a moment to asses the building itself. Two large metal doors marked the entrance. A row of parking directly in front was filled with Hoverbikes, beaten broken and heavily painted. The windows appeared to be in similar disrepair, some of them boarded up. The Neon sign had several letters flickering on and off, if there was any indication as to the type of place he was about to enter, he figured that would be it... Rust seemed to have claimed many corners of the building in a dark red-brown hue, And tiles from the roof were clearly falling off in chunks, he didn’t understand why there were tiles to begin with if the whole thing was made of steel… must have been a stylistic choice, he decided. Desmond stepped up to the doorway and grasped the handle pulling the door open with more force that he initially thought needed, making his entrance a little more forceful and perhaps hostile than he had intended.. As he walked inside he found that he had to squint into the smoky darkness to see anything. The smell hits hit him right after that. Stale cigarettes and booze, a winning combination, he was all too familiar with, unfortunately it didn’t mean he liked it... As Desmond’s eyes finally adjusted he could finally start to make things out, and realized that the inside wasn’t in much better condition that the outside. Tables sat crooked and half broken. the booths were just plain metal were the cushions should have been, but it appeared they were torn from them. Dried food crumbs, sticky booze stains blanketed the floor. Desmond made his way over to the only halfway clean thing in this wreck, the bar, Well lit and freshly wiped down he was greeted by a middle aged Orc. His hair buzzed short with white stubble still growing in. His tusks a grotesque shade of yellow, his beard an almost glowing white, that came down to his middle chest. The white of his beard does a good job of distracting from the unbelievable physique of this old orc, even from here, an easy ten to fifteen feet away Desmond could see the veins clearly bulging his rippling muscles. The orc wore a simple black shirt tucked into his belt with a flannel over the top. After a moment Desmond realized he was staring. Walking up to the bar he asked for Smokey.
“You seem a bit young to be asking for that kind of trouble, boy.” the elderly Orc answered placing extra emphasis on the word ‘boy’. Surprisingly he only had a little hint of an orcish accent, but then he chuckled quietly. “But yeah sure, that’s me alright. What can I do for you?” he looked Desmond directly in the eye.
Meeting his gaze seemed oddly difficult for Desmond, who usually had no problems being polite and courteous. Desmond averted his gaze under the weight of the Orcs stare.“Uh… Tabart said you would be able to help me out, said I could find you here.” Desmond stated meekly, avoiding his harsh gaze yet still. Almost immediately after saying the name Desmond could see his face glow hot and red, almost literally. It almost seemed as if steam was about to blow from his ears.
“TARBART?!” he yelled into his face as the whole bar went silent.
Before Desmond could even an react he reached out grabbing him by the Collar and lifting him clean off the ground. The bar stays silent save for Desmond’s fruitless struggles.
“TARBART?!” he yelled once again.
Fear seeped into his very core, Did she seriously send me to my death? What kind of joke is she playing? How the hell could this guy help me? Other than kill me? Desmond thought as he continued questioning his particular choices in life. Suddenly Desmond felt himself losing control of his power. All he wanted was this guy to let go. He saw the the tattoo on the back of his left hand light up, feeling his palms get warm, really warm. Desmond knew what he was doing, He knew it could be dangerous, but this Orc had triggered his own defense mechanism, which was currently screaming for freedom. Smokey let out a yelp letting Desmond go. All Desmond could see now was red, as now it was his turn to stare him down, rage filled his chest, and he fought his inner demon for control, not wanting to burn this place to the ground. Desmond unconsciously pulling raw, hot, crackling fire into his hands in a display of total aggression letting Smokey just who was about to get smoked, as he was more than capable of defending himself.
“Woah woah woah there boy! You can cool it!” Smokey’s eyes were wide, not with fear, but something else, he dusted the smoke and embers off his sleeves then held his arms up.“I didn’t realize this was why that bastard sent you to me.” He half whispered as he pulled up one of his sleeves just enough so that Desmond could see that Underneath there were similar tattoos to his covering all the flesh of his arm.
“Wait… so you're like me? You're a sorcerer?” Desmond whispered incredulously, whispering the last as not to attract more attention from the crowd around them, granted there weren’t a lot of people, maybe four or five. But it was still a secret he held closely... Desmond’s eyes were getting clearer, the heat dissipating as his conscious mind took control back.
“Yes, we’re both sorcerers, you and I, but you don't have to worry about hiding it so much in here. All my regulars i would trust with my life.” he says, a deep, drunken cheer from the single occupied table on the far right of the room. .“Now what say you sit down and we have a good honest chat about everything here. Eh? I'll even give you a fizzie since i doubt you can drink. Hehe” he jokes at Desmond.
“I'm more than old enough to drink.” Desmond gave as a curt retort.
“Heh okay. Now tell me. How long have you been developing your power? What's your level of control?” he asked in a low private voice, peering through a raised eyebrow curiously. The table of regulars returned their attentions to themselves, as it was clear Smokey wasn’t interest in giving a show any longer.
“Well, at first it was pretty hard. I couldn't get more than a few cinders... but now i can empower my daggers, fire balls of flame, and do all kinds of crazy stuff.”
Smoky considered Desmond for a long moment. When he finally spoke he basically vomiting the information at Desmond, as if he had somehow passed some kind of character test.
“Well boy, First things first. Know that the people of Lunt don't travel much, since almost everything they need is right here in the city, so most of them think people like you and I are myths. Children of demons. Sorcerers, summoners, marked, whatever you call us, it's all the same. So keep those tattoos covered! However the occasional slip won’t kill you. But Only show people you feel you can absolutely trust.” He pauses for a minute as he picked up another glass and began wiping it down with a rag. “Now onto business. I'm sure that wench Tabart sent you here for some work. Plenty of work to be had here as a freelancer. So…. let's see here.”
Smokey walked over to a computer board on the far left side of the bar. It looked real old and real beat up. On Smokey’s side is the actual computer keyboard where he loads in jobs manually, and they appear on the large touch screen on the customer side for freelancers to select and take. Smokey types into the pad for a second and it whirrs to life. A massive list of jobs populate. Desmond’s eyes widen in amazement of the sheer amount of jobs
“Alright, alright. Don't get too excited. Here in Lunt we had a problem a while back with under qualified freelancers going out on jobs and getting themselves killed, or worse. So now we have a pretty little grading system. When a job is posted the system analyzes potential risk and assigns a letter. Now as i'm sure you can guess, you have to have the letter assigned to take the job. Scan your ID and let's see what letter you have.”
Smokey says, smiling at Desmond expectantly.
Desmond pulls a little cable out from the side of his comms unit plugging it into the side of he display monitor. The machine loads for a minute then displays “Desmond Aurey” and lists the letter “D” automatically loading once more, filtering out anything above letter D. leaving him with what appears to be a still significant list of jobs.
“So uh. I suppose you don't have a place to stay or nothing. If you give me a cut of all the jobs you do i'll put in a good word for you to stay at the inn next door. I don't much like helping Tabarts swine, but I suppose i do owe her a life debt or two.” he grumbles in Desmond’s general direction.
“How do you know Tabart? She wouldn’t say before i left.” Desmond inquired seriously, Remembering his less than welcoming reaction to Tabarts mere mention, sending a shiver rolling down his spine.
He looks at Desmond, obviously contemplating whether to tell him or not.
“Well, I'm no fan of hers. Sorta thing Tends to happen when someone leaves you at the altar.” his eyes drop to the ground going to a faraway place. Desmond started to think this might not be the best topic to pry into.
“Er, okay! I'm gonna take a job for now and see if i can't make some money in this big city!” Desmond exclaimed thumbing towards Smokey, attempting to change the subject. Smokey looked up at him with a wide smile, pointing with his thumb at the computer.
“plug your ID again then. The lancer board has timed out. Oh and that's what i like to call the board. Most bars will have one of these. They go by many names though, Bounty board, lancer board. FLB; short for freelancer board. Call it what you will, you'll make money just the same.” He said chuckling to himself.
Walking over to the Freelancer board Desmond plugged his ID in again. the board began to shuffle the large list of jobs into a somewhat smaller list of jobs. Desmond quickly noticed he could filter through the job requests by “category”. There seemed to be a job for everything, gathering cooking ingredients, Bounties, hunting dangerous beasts, travel guarding, bodyguarding, searching for artifacts... any anything else one might imagine. Desmond decided to start off with something easy, something he was familiar with. He was able to find a common job that seemed to have been posted a couple times. The title read “Snarlers attacking the herd” Desmond knew snarlers to be a disgusting breed of wolf. The sand and magic of the world mutated them into creatures with hard leather hides and saliva like acid, They’re about four feet tall and rove in packs of 4-8. They are vicious and violent to a fault.
Opening the request Desmond read the description.
“Well dangit, new pack dun formed gain. Shit... i’ll pay any dang fool to kill dis pack n even more, ifn you find n kill dat pack mother. I’m so sick o postin this damn request. I'll treat you tew a cup o water n 100 units four each one killed. N dat pack mother i'll give a gallon n 500 units. N you'll be damned ifn you ask for a drop or unit more!
~Hurley 60 West gate, 3 miles out on Hurley farm”
Satisfied that this is a gig he could do, Desmond pushed the ‘commit’ button. Before he headed out, desmond decided it was probably a good idea to eat something. He remembered what the goblin woman at the gate said about his water allotments. He had forgotten to look at how much he was allowed, so he checked his ID card. Disappointingly he was greeted by a measly number 2. not sure what that meant he turned around ask smokey
“So I would like some food and some water to drink but… my card says water allotment two. What does that mean?”
“What? You don't have water rations assigned in your hometown? Humph well over here you get a certain amount of water based on your contributions to Lunt. right now you only have two. So that’s two cups of water a day. Use them wisely!” he says to Desmond, emphasising the last part, looking him in the eye. Smokey walks into the back presumably getting Desmond the food he had asked for, As he walks away for the first time Desmond could see him below the belt, wat greeted his eyes was one leg that was quite clearly mechanical, sticking out of a pair of cargo shorts, that Smokey was wearing. Desmond looked around the room; seeing different TVs mounted to the ceiling showing different programs, news, sports and sitcoms. He also took a few peeks at the different guests in the bar. There were 3 people at a table nearby. A gnome and two humans. They looked down on their luck, drunken and playing a card game. However each were armed. They had similar leather jackets on, no doubt denoting their gang affiliations, or perhaps a crew that they ran with. After looking one up and down for a little too long the human notices Desmond’s stares and returns him a long glare.
“Whatcha lookin at kid?!” he snarls at Desmond in a loud drunken stupor.
Desmond quickly turned away not wanting any trouble. However the older, drunken man wouldn't be having it. Clearly he wasn't having a good day, and was looking to take it out on Smokey’s new friend. He stood up from his seat, his long white beard sliding off the table and onto his belly, As his chair slid backwards, making a dull groaning sound, Smokey, from the back yelled, “that better not be threatening talk to the new kid I hear, Shamus!” Desmond looked back at who he could only assume must have been shamus, he looked pretty spooked and gave Desmond a slight but apologetic wave, looking back down to his cards and drink. Smokey must not be one to mess with… Desmond thought. He sat in uncomfortable silence for a few more minutes until smokey came back, A mug of water in one hand and a plate of food in the other.
“One mug o’ water and a burger with a marlock egg on top. I'll start you a tab.” he says with a chuckle. Desmond happily ate the food placed in front of him. Sure, it wasn't the best food he had ever eaten, no comparison to Tabarts food, but enjoyable. Desmond finished eating, looked at his comms unit. It was 19:35 stayed a bit longer than i should have… Desmond thought. But it was no matter. He decided to ask about lodging, and he tells him to head next door and mention his name, Smokey, and they will set him up in the discounted rate.
“You’re sure they won't choke me if i mention your name?” Desmond asked jokingly, a sharp smirk on his face.
“Bahahaha! As long as you don't burn them alive, i can't imagine they will!” he laughs a deep and true laugh. Desmond proceeds to walk out the door and turns to the building on the left. Another beaten and haggard building greeted him. This time though it was large. It takes up more than triple the real estate of Smokey’s and is in the shape of a large letter U, and goes about 3 stories into the sky. Desmond walked over to what he had to assume was the office due to the large neon OPEN sign that was clearly either dead, or not turned on. He walked in, stating he was there at the direction of Smokey. the lady behind the counter, a short troll woman ran him through the whole procedure, she made him scan his comms unit in to get a key, gave him the first 3 nights for free, per some special arrangement with Smokey. She explained in a thick trollish accent how to find his room, what times he needed to check out by or he would be automatically billed another day, if he couldn’t afford a payment the room would lock him out, and anything inside was forfeit. With that out of the way, Desmond nodded, smiled and made his way to his room, climbing the multiple steps to the 3rd floor. His room was the third on the left as the manager had explained. As he enters he could see it was really rather plain inside. A single bed, a shader window on the far side with a desk in front of it, a small closet to on his left open with what looked to be a mini fridge below, and a bathroom hallway to his right. All in all maybe 200sq ft. Desmond took a few minutes to undress, hanging his clothes up in the closet. He noticed the big white hunk on the floor of the closet and decided to check the fridge for any potential ‘goodies’, but it was empty. Desmond, scratching his head walked to the bathroom and looked in the mirror. He stared at himself, looking at his own reflection. Dark tribal like tattoos covered his body from his collarbone to his ankles, his shoulders to the back of his hands. Almost every inch of his front and back was covered. He thought back to when tabart told him what the tattoos meant, that they are the markings of “the devil's children”, or more accurately the children of demons. Desmond never knew his parents, so he couldn't ask. He knew one of his parents had to have been a demon, but which one? He walked into the shower and the pressurized gas cleaned him off quick. Desmond always remembers that in the old world people were said to use water to bathe, but now water is far too precious to waste on bathing. So now people use a form of pressurized air and gas to clean, and it's more efficient anyway... Desmond flopped himself in bed and set his comm to wake him up at 07:00 sharp, then slid it onto the nearby nightstand.
Desmond found it difficult to doze off however. After rolling about for another half an hour he snatched up his comms unit again and looked at the local news, figuring hat would put him to sleep. The first headline read as follows.
“3 more mages gone missing!”
Desmond Recalls that mages are people who are born with an aptitude for magic. Similar to him yet very different. Desmond’s magic was ingrained in his body, it was of one element, and he had t learn to wield it through action and emotion. Mages however are able to use the magic of the world, they can use any element and learn to wield it through books or training. Tabart always said that Sorcerers element magic was far superior to anything a mage could do, but to always try to pass himself off as a mage, if he ever got caught using magic that was. Desmond was curious… and decided to open the story, the first thing he saw was a list of hundreds of names. Apparently All mages reported missing. There are individual bounties for the missing persons but no freelancer had yet to find even a single one. Strange. Desmond had never attempted to find a missing person before, but he couldn’t imagine it was very difficult… he read through some of the comments on the post… most were from family members of those lost. They were angry, but there was a lot of sadness too, people who just wanted their loved ones back…others who just wanted something to bury.. Desmond decided bag was enough reading for one night. Turned his comms unit off and went to sleep. He and come here to help people… sure, but he also came to make money. Others will help these people…. at least he hoped so…
as (:EDIT) where I would stop reading.
