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A beggars life

The streets of Arthyr were awfully noisy this morning, chit-chat about the latest news on the war against the neighboring country of Genia could be heard from every direction while others traded goods or played card games at one of the many nearby inns. Victor felt a headache coming, how are any of Arthyrs citizens gonna hear his weak voice overall this shouting. The few looks he had gotten today while holding his hands out towards the citizens passing by had been everything but pleasant. "I hate this" he mumbled into his wooden mug, staring down at the 3 crux he managed to 'borrow' from one of the blackout drunk self-proclaimed war heroes stumbling home earlier today. Feeling the sun rising unpleasantly high by now, Victor decides to get up and change his begging spot, dusting his cheap shirt off in a hurry and heading off in search of someplace cool to get through the unpleasant mid-day heat.

While wandering down the packed streets of Arthyr he felt all kinds of delicious smells invade his nostrils, tempting him to stop by one of the nicely decorated street-facing windows a bit too long from time to time. "Looks like it's around lunchtime by now, the worst time of the day.." Victor thought to himself weighing up the 3 crux in his hand, "I guess I really shouldn't starve myself to death in this burning heat, maybe old guy Januk at the bakery has some leftover bread that I can haggle out of him". Picking up his pace a little in anticipation of his first meal of the day Victor turned left into a smaller street with a big sign that read "Best Bread Bakery" or at least so he was told by Januk. Never having anyone to teach him how to read Viktor had to rely on the old baker every now and then regarding such stuff, although, for some reason, he couldn't shake off the feeling that this old snake was making a fool out of him from time to time.

Opening the old wooden door with a loud creak, Victor stepped in with somewhat of a half-yelled greeting before a surprisingly round man with flour coating his hands stumbled out of the back of the bakery pointing right at Victor dirty feet "VIC YOU DIRTY LITTLE RAT HOW OFTEN DO I HAVE TO TELL YOU TO CLEAN YOUR FEET BEFORE YOU ENTER MY BAKERY" the Baker yelled. "But old guy Januk I did clean them, it's just that they stay this color" Victor nonchalantly lied while holding out his 3 crux,"Do you have any bread leftovers I can get for this?" seeing the crux in the barely 17 years old frail boy Januk shifted his tone "fine, yea I guess I can get you a few burned ends that I cut off give me a minute and sit down somewhere so you don't dirty the bakery running around in here" he mumbled as he vanished into the back of the bakery again before reappearing with something that barely resembled bread loaves in color and form and passing it to the eagerly waiting Victor. "Here ya go kid, streets have been wild since news of the King losing another province to Genia arrived huh?" Victor who was already a quarter through his loaf when Januk stopped talking, barely chewing before taking another bite quickly replied with two mouthfuls of bread "Oh yea you bet, everyone is trying to sell their goods to flee if the situation keeps worsening, I don't care about who's the king of this country but all this commotion is harmful to my begging!". Januk was the only person in Arthyr Victor could call somewhat of a family after his mother died during his birth and his father losing his life in one of the Arthyrian wars several years ago. Back then Victor was aimlessly wandering around the streets, freshly orphaned, without much knowledge on how to survive at all. Back then he was often begging in front of Januks bakery and eventually developed somewhat of a fatherly bond with him.

Heading out of the bakery with a filled stomach it was time to head back to "work", sitting down in one of the busier streets Victor was just about to start weakly holding out his wooden jug to one of the richer looking passerbys when suddenly there was an incredibly bright flash "Heatstroke huh" were the last words that had gone through Viktors mind before his head hit the heated stone pavement of the street and he blacked out.

Darkness. Everything was dark.

Viktor started to panic, thinking of all kinds of scenarios.

"I guess I am dead huh, what a pathetic life, I can't even remember the last time I ate anything other than some crusty old bread"

"I wonder how I died, did I hit the pavement too hard, or maybe some back alley maniac decided I was easy prey"

"This afterlife thing sure is boring, pitch black and everything reeks of dirt and sto- wait a minute"

Jolting awake and lifting his face out of the cold mud Victor found himself in a completely unfamiliar surrounding. The once so busy street was replaced by a Massive cave approximately 1/4 the size of Arthyr. In the middle of the cave, there was a giant construct with some weird runic symbols all over it that illuminated the cave barely enough for one to see their hands. At second glance Victor saw himself surrounded by more people than he could count, nor had seen in his life before. From the few familiar faces, he could make out they had to be citizens of Artia. For some reason though, all of them himself included wearing nothing but basic underwear made out of bandages. Even the normally well-equipped city guards and knights stood there completely defenseless, stripped from their shiny armor and weapons. There was an eerie silence for a few seconds before the giant construct suddenly lit up in a dangerous red tone and all hell broke loose. weapons and armor of all sorts known and unknown started spewing out of the portal, all made out of some sort of unknown material. The few unlucky people that stood too close to the spilling construct instantly got buried below the pile of equipment, their painful screams being drowned out by the loud noises of the Construct. This continued on for about 2 minutes before the Construct returned to its original pristine white color and the horror stopped.

Everyone, Victor included, felt drawn towards the strangely glowing pile like a moth to light. Having nothing but their hands to defend themself in an unfamiliar surrounding next to thousands of other people whose intentions could be anything from nice to sinister utter chaos broke out. Almost simultaneously thousands of people started storming towards the pile, trampling over each other, some leaving behind their family just to get a higher chance at survival. Panicked screams and painful cries could be heard from every direction. Victor, who due to his frail frame from years of nourishment has been pushed back again could only helplessly watch as the pile of equipment shrunk in size while he was only about 30 meters away. This was when he noticed something odd, the people who touched one of the equipment parts suddenly had a little tattoo appear on their body and weren't able to grab anything else. While most of these people tried to flee out of the chaos as fast as possible some kept trying and held up the whole crowd. Hours that felt like days passed like this until it finally seemed like everything was gone.

By Estimation, 2/3 citizens had got their hands on some kind of weapon by then. Everyone was wary of each other, there were no more social hierarchies, all that counted was who had the equipment and who didn't. Due to the chaos dying down Victor finally managed to drag his exhausted body to the remains of the once glowing pile that was now nothing more than some plowed up earth littered in blood "Yet again at the mercy of the mighty" he mumbled to himself while sitting down in one of the more or less bloodless spots to take a breath. This was when he felt something cold and hard near his cheeks. Not thinking much of it Victor tried using his hand to even his newfound chair out a little when his hand suddenly touched what felt like a cold awkwardly big chain-like item and felt a warm sensation flowing through his whole body before a ball-shaped tattoo appeared in the palm of his hand. Just when Victor was about to start laughing at his misfortune about not getting something useful like a sword, a shield, or even a helmet the now-familiar blinding flash appeared out of the portal and engulfed his whole vision yet again.

Hey and welcome to my first novel! Follow me on my journey, always open to critique and interesting ideas for Path of Glory!

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