Shooting up, Aadam quickly prepared himself for combat, glancing around nervously. All he saw was a lush green landscape... with no sights of the Cannimite invasion anywhere.
"What the hell happened... and why am I so stiff"?
Blinking away the bleariness from his eyes he quickly roused himself from his bed of sand. Around him, rather than a swarm of Mites preparing to slaughter an endless sea of sand with rolling dunes presenting themselves before him.
With no signs of civilization anywhere, Aadam can only wander around in search of water, supplies, anything. Gathering his meager belongings, he stripped himself of his armor that would only serve to hamper his movement among the unforgiving heat.
Wandering around, with no landmarks to aid them, one would quickly become lost within the desert.
"намери цивилизация," Aadam muttered underneath his breath, trusting his magic to guide towards the nearest civilization.
-
Eventually, after stumbling throughout the desert, following the guidance of his magic, Aadam finally arrived at what appeared to be a road. However; such a road was of the likes that Aadam had never seen before, far from the typical fare of the packed dirt or occasional cobblestone road. This road was of a shining, glimmering glass, reflecting the rays of light to give it an almost ethereal appearance.
An azul hue was cast overhead from what appeared to be torches hanging overhead. Suddenly, the familiar sensation of magic rumbled in his head once again... steering his body towards his left he started walking down the road, hoping to stumble upon any signs of humans.
-
It had been approximately 4 hours since Aadam had once left off on his trek across the desert. He was running low on energy, he had virtually no supplies and the harsh, unforgiving sun was beating down upon his back.
In a fit of exhaustion Aadam continued on, as he stumbled over the next dune he caught sight of a caravan moving across the landscape. Rushing forward, flailing his arms he sought to capture the attention of the people.
With his throat parched, no words could escape his mouth as he tried to make any form of sound to attract their attention.
"Hey, Frank, there's a man over there!" said Jeremy.
"Impossible, in these conditions? It's impossible to survive. You sure the heat isn't getting to you?" Frank responded.
"No really, there's a man waving a short sword over there"!
"An ordinary short sword? Metal? Is he an idiot"?
"I don't know. Let's stop here for a bit. Lend him a helping hand."
"And slap him around a bit. I mean what the hell was he thinking"?
"It's really a wonder how he survived for this long. I mean where the hell are the Mites or the Bergs or literally anything in this hellscape. He should've been devoured long ago"!
"Greetings men. Is there any chance that you can tell me where I am?" said Aadam.
"Ah, that explains a lot. You must've been dumped by Blackhall like the others, eh. All of you lot get dumped put here. Real pity, you get used and your done," said Jeremy.
"Well anyways bud, you're in the Swynden Desert. How you survived this long, no one knows."
"You guys merchants by any chance?" questioned Aadam.
"Man, you really don't know that much. I mean I know that you're from Blackhall and all that, but man I never knew they were that cruel. C'mon let me tell you 'bout the world," said Frank.
"In this great, wide world of ours, we got the Elywen, the Wryders, Poroclen, etc. If you want to make a living in this world, you're going to have to be one of them. The unclassified live in the slums and the like. See each of these 'classes' serve an essential role in society, hunters, warriors, healers, the list goes on. I mean your class probably hasn't been given to yet right? I mean, not to be insensitive but, they did use you as a lab rat right? You know inject weird serums and all that? See Jeremy is a Poroclen, a warrior essentially, and I'm an Elywen. Our task right now is to scout out this area of Swynden and clear the creatures around here and escort this group of merchants to Greymerrow."
"Is there by any chance that I can tag along with you to Greymerrow?" questioned Aadam.
"Sure, but you gotta help defend the carts as well, earn your keep so they say" replied Frank.
"What would I have to do exactly"?
"Well, basically, you're going to be sitting up there with me and just follow my instructions. By the way, never got your name. I'm Frank and he's Jeremy. Jeremy's kinda gruff, but he's got a good heart."
"The name's Aadam," he replied.
"Okay. So for your job kid. You're going to ride there with Frank and keep an eye out for anything suspicious. Basically look out for things like the sand being churnned up or dust clouds. Anything of the like. The areas around the road tend to be safe but, we just want to be careful. If you see anything, just tell Frank."
"You shouldn't get into any conflicts here kid. Your equipment won't last long in this environment. A Skidder's claws will rip right through that flimsy shirt you have there," said Frank.
"How long is it going to take to reach Greymerrow?" Aadam asked.
"If there isn't a dust storm or raid we should arrive in about four days," replied Frank.
Aadam, Frank, and Jeremy mounted back onto the Illergs, a domesticated wildling, that were patiently waiting for them. They continued to ride on in silence when...
"So what happens when we reach Greymerrow?" Aadam asked.
"Nothing much, we'll probably return to the team. Collect the reward, you know? The merchants will probably head to the Twilight Lilac to sell their gods and all that," replied Frank.
"And how does the 'class' system work"?
"Well... the class system is difficult to explain. Basically, each individual class has their own set of perks and deficits. So many people form teams to cover their own weaknesses. Like me and Jeremy here. I'm a ranger so I'm weak physically, and Jeremy is vulnerable to ranged attacks. Therefore, we cover for each other. There are a bunch of other nuances like speed, and other skills that we have to factor in as well though. So you don't choose your class rather...."