I wake up to see a dark brown ceiling suspended above me, planks of wood speckled with the little black dots of nail heads. I let out an involuntary groan as I sit up. Though my wounds have mostly healed, I am still covered from head to toe in bruises from those nefarious spikes. I take my eyes off the sky and when I do, I see the four horsemen standing over me. Before they can make any idiotic comments, I tell them "I'll punish you for this. I swear it."
Mr. Anger Issues retorts "I'd like to see you try pipsqueak." While saying so he cracks his knuckles. [A real tough guy, I see.]
"Ahem," Mr. Armor butts in. "We have no time for that. We need to finish testing you so we can move on. While I'm sure that you will at least net us a few silver based on swordsmanship alone, we need to figure out your exact value based on levels and skills."
Value? What does he mean, [value] ? How many times must I tell these dolts? "I'm not a slave, no matter how many times you imply such."
Mr. Anger Issues looks ready to hit me again, but before he can do so Mr. Armor leans in close enough that I can see his eyes nestled deep within his helm. "You are a slave now," he says very seriously. "And the sooner that you accept it, the better. Now, let's analyze your skills." With that he takes out a glowing blue sphere. I roll my eyes, "Y'know, I could just tell you my skills if you want to know so bad."
"But you might lie," he responded curtly before pressing the orb against my chest.
The orb projected a screen, much like the one accessible from the corner of my vision. And on the screen was my list of stats:
Name: unnamed
Level: 1
Race: Human
Job: Slave
Skills: Greater Pain Resistance Lvl. 4, Greater Madness Lvl. 1, Lesser Sight Enhancement Lvl. 2, Lesser Hearing Enhancement Lvl. 2, Lesser Resistance Lvl. 5, Lesser Heat Resistance Lvl. 7, Lesser Cold Resistance Lvl. 4, Moderate Thirst Nullification Lvl. 2, Lesser Sleep Nullification Lvl. 2, Moderate Swordsmanship Lvl. 7, Lesser Melee Magic Conduction Lvl. 1, Magic Sensory Lvl. 1, Lesser Magic Manipulation Lvl. 1
After looking over the stats, it seemed that they all had something to say. However, I was the first to speak: "Huh? Why does the job title say "Slave?"
This finally seemed to get on Mr. Armor's nerves. Honestly, I was a bit impressed that he managed to last this long. Not very many people can handle an extended blast of concentrated 'me', after all!
"You know, normally our slaves are a bit more obedient after getting beaten up by Gorbson. But I guess your obscenely high pain resistance skill is preventing our usual methods from working properly." I wanted to retort that my pain receptors were working perfectly fine, [thank you very much] . But before I could say anything, Mr. Armor continued on: "Gorbson- ensure his future compliance." With that, Gorbson grabs me by the hair and starts yanking me towards the door of the tiny room we had been in. I manage to control my instinctual cry of pain; after all, I won't let this Gorbson get what he wants! Gorbson opens the door and jumps down a few feet to the ground below. Of course I come along, neck jerking painfully. Now that I'm outside, I can see that I've been in a covered wagon. I try to look around, to get a feel for my surroundings, but it's surprisingly difficult to do such things while someone is holding your hair.
Gorbson eventually lets go, and my head cracks loudly into the ground below. "Y'know, ya' really shouldn't go for the head first. Your victim won't be able to feel the next blow," I slur out, poorly quoting my favorite movie character.
"I bet you think you're pretty clever right now. We'll see how long that lasts. I've been waiting for this moment- making a new slave submit is the best part of the job. That girl before was a real joy to break- though there were some [special] methods I used to break her that I can't really use on you. For you, It'll be nothing but good old fashioned pain!" At that he covered his fists in his special fire and grabbed hold of my face.
Now, I wanted to scream out in agony, I really did. But I had already decided to not give this sadist what he wanted, and I don't give up this easily! So instead I do the next best thing- I laugh! That's right! When my nerves were being seared by heat so intense that my blood boiled, I laughed. When he burned so deep into my shoulders that the bone became visible, I laughed. When those bones blackened under the extreme heat I laughed. And guess what? The more I laughed, the less it hurt. I guess laughter really [is] the best medicine! Oh, and a few skills leveled up too, but that's not important. Greater Pain Resistance Lvl. 4 -> Lvl. 6. Greater Madness Lvl. 1 -> Lvl. 5.
Anyway, the laughing had the intended effect on Gorbson. His glee turned slowly to confusion, then to frustration. After a few minutes of my joyous laughter, he put his flames out. And I must say, I was in a sorry state. The upper half of my body was burned to a crisp, and several blackened ribs were showing. I must admit that I was close to death; my chest looked like an overcooked rotisserie chicken. Gorbson shouted at me, spit flying into my face. "What the hell is wrong with you?! Who [laughs] while being burned alive?! You madman; no, you demon!"
Mr. Armor, who had been watching the spectacle unflod, came over to talk with Gorbson. "Calm down, Gorbson. We already know that he has an obscenely high level in both Pain Nullification and Madness. Perhaps he couldn't feel the pain, and his madness caused him to have an odd reaction?"
I wanted to respond that I could indeed feel the pain, and that it was rude to talk about me like I wasn't here, but my vocal cords and lungs were too crispy to get any intelligible words out.
Mr. Armor poured some more healing potion over my wounds, healing them up. "That was a medium level healing potion, which costs two whole coppers. I am unwilling to invest any more into you, so I give you a choice: submit as my slave or die."
Now, I had never been particularly good in school, but this felt like an easy 'cross off the incorrect answers until there's one left' type problem. So I responded with the only logical answer, in my most theatrical voice, of course: "Please don't kill me! I'll be Your Highness Sir Lord Mr. Armor's loyal slave forever and ever, so please stay your righteous hand of justice!" It looked like he wanted to backhand me more than ever, but I must be imagining things.
"Alright. Any more funny business out of you, or even just a sign of disrespect, and we'll be forced to dispose of you. We have no use for a misbehaving slave who shows no sign of breaking no matter what we do. Understood?"
I straighten my back and snap my head to my forehead in a saulute. "Sir yes sir, Your Highness Sir Lord Mr. Armor, sir!"
I'm not really sure why, but his gauntleted fist made contact with my forehead shortly thereafter. [And I thought Gorbson had a bad temper] , I think to myself while falling unconscious.