The forest surrendered slowly rather than dramatically.
The trees spaced themselves farther apart. Sunlight reached the ground more cleanly. The dirt path beneath Stripe’s boots grew wider and more deliberate.
Wagon ruts hardened into the soil in parallel grooves. Hoofprints overlapped in dense clusters that spoke of repetition.
People used this road often enough that it had become confident in its direction.
Through the thinning canopy, the city finally revealed itself.
The outer wall rose in pale stone that had not been neglected. The blocks were aligned tightly. The mortar was clean. Guard towers stood at careful intervals.
Beyond the wall, rooftops layered over one another in uneven heights. At the center, a keep rose above everything else with vertical certainty.
Stripe slowed without realizing it.
STRIPE: This place is gigantic. Not big like the cities back home but big in a different way.
CROWN: Urban density probability high.
STRIPE: You don’t have to turn it into a report. I can see that it’s crowded.
STRIPE: Crown I have a question. How do people here use the bathroom? Is there any plumbing?
CROWN: Unlikely. Observational data suggests historical methods?
STRIPE: Like shitting in a hole or a bucket?
CROWN: Correct.
Stripe looked grossed out. Like someone who didn't just spew his shit on a bush not long ago.
As he approached the gate, the sounds of the city reached him in waves.
Merchants arguing.
Cart wheels creaking under heavy loads.
A hammer striking metal somewhere deeper inside the walls.
A faint shimmer of magic flickered above a lantern as someone adjusted it with a minor spell.
The air felt thick with activity.
Stripe looked down at himself.
Wolf pelt.
Leather chest armor that did not quite fit.
Bare arms scratched from the forest.
Boots that somehow looked like the most legitimate part of his outfit.
A dagger at his hip that had definitely not been his yesterday.
He exhaled.
STRIPE: We look professional.
CROWN: Probability of suspicion remains high.
STRIPE: To be fair, the only other people I have seen looked just like this.
CROWN: Host observational data likely skewed.
Two guards at the gate noticed him long before he reached speaking distance.
Their posture changed subtly.
Weight shifted.
Hands drifted closer to weapons.
Eyes narrowed as they were inspecting him.
Stripe stopped several paces short of the gate to avoid looking aggressive.
One of the guards studied him openly.
GUARD 1: State your business bandit.
Stripe lifted one hand slightly.
STRIPE: Window shopping and possibly a shower.
CROWN: Bodily cleansing is recommended.
The second guard gave him a flat look.
GUARD 2: That’s not how this works.
A breeze shifted.
The smell arrived first.
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Wolf hide that had been washed but not cured.
Sweat dried into leather.
Old blood that river water had not fully erased.
The faint unmistakable smell of shit.
Guard one leaned back slightly.
GUARD 1: Have you ever even bathed?
STRIPE: It’s not that bad.
CROWN: It is that bad.
Stripe’s head snapped slightly as the voice landed wrong.
The cadence had changed.
It was not the usual neutral tone.
For half a second it sounded almost human.
It wasn't a major change just a smaller softer influx on the word bad.
STRIPE: You sounded almost human there?
Then static tore through his skull.
The sensation was sharp and invasive, like metal scraping inside his thoughts.
CROWN: Error detected. Recalibrating sensory interface.
The world distorted.
The edges of Stripe’s vision warped.
Sound compressed.
As if someone had stepped on it.
Guard two stepped forward, hand fully on his weapon.
GUARD 2: What’s wrong with him?
Stripe tried to answer.
His balance vanished before the sentence formed.
His knees gave out.
Stone rushed upward.
Darkness swallowed everything.
He found himself surrounded by pure blackness.
It was distinctively different than darkness. I
t was like the room was filled with a black void like a black hole.
Inside that absence something existed.
A faint shape hovered just outside the center of his perception.
Feminine.
Indistinct.
Familiar.
He tried to turn toward it.
The moment snapped.
Cold stone scraped against his shoulder blades.
Stripe blinked.
Two guards dragged him by the ankles through the gate.
STRIPE: I didn't know they offered transportation at the gate. I think I have it from here boys.
GUARD 1: You fainted and you're wearing bandit clothing. Clothing seen harassing the nearby forest routes..
Noise flooded back in.
Fabric banners moved in the wind.
Traders shouted prices.
Children ran past with wooden swords.
Stripe turned his head slightly as they dragged him.
Near the inner wall a beggar sat against the stone.
Patched clothing.
Still posture.
The kind of stillness Stripe recognized instantly.
The stillness of someone who had learned not to expect interruption.
Their eyes met.
Recognition passed silently between two men who had both slept on stone.
The mans eyes scanned every dirty patch on stripes body.
The beggar reached into his pouch and tossed a copper coin.
It bounced off Stripe’s chest and landed in his lap.
BEGGAR: Some people got it worse than me.
Stripe looked at the coin.
He had silver in his pocket now.
He did not know what it bought.
He did not know if it was enough for food.
Or enough for trouble.
Money had once been abstract numbers managed by accountants.
Then it had been loose change under bridges.
Now it was metal disks in a forest world.
Now a beggar is taking pity on him.
STRIPE: From riches to rags again. I deserve this.
The guards dragged him toward a stone building just inside the gate.
Iron bars were visible through the doorway.
The door itself carried scratches that suggested it closed often.
And hard.
GUARD 2: Interrogation first.
The Crown spoke again.
Back to normal.
CROWN: System stability restored.
Stripe closed his eyes.
STRIPE: Welcome back. How was your nap?
CROWN: Sleep is not equivalent to system restart
The guard lifted his hand.
Blue light gathered in his palm.
Then released.
Water slammed into Stripe like a thrown river.
Cold.
Violent.
Dirt, sweat, and blood washed away across the stone floor.
Stripe gasped.
STRIPE: Holy shit that water is cold.
GUARD 2: Step forward.
Stripe moved.
GUARD 2: Squat and cough.
Stripe hesitated.
Then complied.
The stone floor felt colder now without the grime insulating him.
He coughed.
The guard leaned slightly to inspect.
Stripe coughed again and muttered.
STRIPE: The water’s cold. I promise I’m not normally like this.
CROWN: Deception detected.
Stripe closed his eyes.
The guard chuckled despite himself.
GUARD 2: At least you smell better now.
CROWN: No deception detected.
Stripe stood slowly.
STRIPE: I’m surrounded by comedians.
A rough tunic was tossed at him.
He pulled it on.
The guard walked him down a narrow corridor.
Iron bar doors lined both sides.
Some cells empty.
Others filled with figures who did not bother standing.
When they reached the last cell, the guard unlocked it and shoved Stripe inside.
The door slammed shut with a heavy metallic echo.
The cell was larger than expected.
But not comfortable.
Stone walls.
Scattered straw.
Sweat that never fully left.
About a dozen prisoners looked up.
Not all of them human.
An orc stood near the far wall with arms crossed.
Broad shoulders nearly touching the stone behind him.
Tusks small but noticeable.
Eyes sharp.
Closer to the center sat a massive aquatic creature.
Humanoid torso the size of a body bigger.
Stripe remembered the moment he met Francis Ngannou, except this creature was covered in scales.
Skin that held a faint sheen even in the dry air.
Its eyes were wide and flat and devoid of any humanity.
Like it looked through people rather than at them.
Near the corner sat a thin man with narrow teeth and restless hands.
The man smiled, all of his teeth were sharp like a canine.
Silence stretched.
Stripe leaned against the wall.
The orc spoke first.
ORC: What brings you in?
Stripe shrugged.
STRIPE: The guards duh.
The thin man snorted.
The orc did not smile.
ORC: That’s not what I meant.
Stripe scratched his jaw.
STRIPE: Wrong place. Wrong smell.
The orc studied him carefully.
ORC: What are you some kind of bandit.
STRIPE: That feels accurate given the circumstances.
Stripe nodded toward the aquatic creature.
STRIPE: What’s his story?
ORC: That’s Oblong. He ate the heads of two men in a tavern after losing a dice game.
Stripe stared.
Oblong slowly tilted his head.
Eyes still unfocused.
STRIPE: That feels extreme for gambling.
ORC: Yeah considering there was no money on the line.
CROWN: Subject displays limited cognitive engagement.
Stripe shifted slightly farther away from Oblong.
The thin man leaned forward with a grin.
STRIPE: Stop talking.
ORC: You asked the fucking question.
STRIPE: Not you, the voice in my head.
THIN MAN: At least yours talks. Mine just laughs.
Stripe sighed.
STRIPE: That’s not comforting either.
Footsteps echoed down the corridor.
Keys rattled.
The cell door unlocked.
A guard pointed directly at Stripe.
GUARD: Interrogation.
Stripe pushed off the wall.
As he stepped toward the door, Oblong’s wide eyes followed him.
Unblinking.
Watching.
STATUS
└──────────────────────────────────┘
Level: 5
Class: Unassigned
Title: Toxic Fisherman
Stamina: 118 / 118
Mana: 0 / 0
━━━━━━━━━━ ATTRIBUTES ━━━━━━━━━━
Agility 9
Endurance 8
Intelligence 6
━━━━━━━━━━━━ SKILLS ━━━━━━━━━━━━
Improvised Weapon Handling Beginner
Survival Novice
Minor Poison Secretion Passive
━━━━━━━━━━ ARTIFACT ━━━━━━━━━━━
━━━━━━━━━━ SYSTEM EFFECTS ━━━━━━
Experience Calculation
━━━━━━━━━━ INVENTORY ━━━━━━━━━━
Leather Chest Piece (Bandit Armor)
Wolf Pelt (Crude Clothing)
Bandit Ring
Strip of Dried Meat
━━━━━━━━━━ CURRENCY ━━━━━━━━━━━
Copper Coins 6
