Mess Of A World

Chapter 1: Awakening in Steel

The first thing that registered was the cold. A relentless, biting chill that seeped into my bones and gnawed at my core. I groaned, trying to pull the nonexistent covers tighter around myself. My eyelids fluttered open, met with blurry shapes and an oppressive darkness. Panic clawed at my throat as I sat up abruptly, only to have the world tilt sickeningly and a wave of nausea roll through me.

"Whoa there, easy," a gruff voice said, laced with concern.

Two hazy figures materialized before me. One, a hulking giant clad in dented steel armor, emanated a comforting warmth despite the chill. The other, cloaked in a tattered robe that shimmered with faint magical energy, held what seems like a glowing lamp that cast an eerie blue light on the scene.

Memories flickered back, fragmented and hazy. A blinding flash of light, a deafening roar, a sensation of falling... then nothing. Now, I found myself sprawled on a cold metal floor, the air thick with the metallic tang of blood. My hand instinctively went to my head, meeting a sticky warmth.

"Easy there, looks like you took a nasty bump," the armored figure rumbled, kneeling beside me. He gently brushed aside a stray strand of hair, revealing a deep gash on my forehead. "Don't worry, I patched you up as best I could."

"Who... where..." I stammered, my voice hoarse and weak.

"Relax, you're safe for now," the robed figure interjected, his voice surprisingly youthful. "We found you unconscious in the wreckage of that portal down by the docks. Nasty business, those things. Spit you out like a chewed-up apple core."

A portal? Wreckage? My mind struggled to piece together the fragments of my memories. What portal? Where was I? Who were these people?

"Don't strain yourself," the robed figure said, his voice gentling. "We'll explain everything once you're back on your feet. For now, we need a name. Any recollection of who you are?"

I shook my head, a dull ache throbbing in my skull. My past was a blank canvas, devoid of any familiar faces or experiences.

"Lost your memory, eh?" the armored figure rumbled, a hint of sympathy in his voice. "Don't worry, happens more often than you'd think with these portals spitting people out like bad dice rolls."

He glanced at the robed figure, who nodded curtly. "Alright then, how about we call you 'Steel'? Seems fitting for someone who woke up in a scrapyard."

Steel. The name resonated within me, a strange sense of familiarity washing over me. Perhaps it was the cold metal floor beneath me, or the armored giant beside me, but it felt... right.

"Steel it is," I croaked, managing a weak smile. "Thanks... for saving me."

The robed figure, who introduced himself as Eldarion, a scholar, and the armored giant, who turned out to be a seasoned warrior named Borin, helped me to my feet. My legs wobbled, but with their support, I managed to stand.

"Looks like you're a tough one," Borin said, clapping me on the shoulder, a gesture that sent a jolt of pain through my arm. "But tough ain't enough in this world. We need to figure out what you are and where you came from."

Eldarion held up a hand, silencing Borin. "Let him get his bearings first, Borin. We have time."

He turned to me, his gaze piercing. "Steel," he said, his voice serious, "This world... it's a strange place. A mix of magic and metal, of monsters and machines. And you, my friend, seem to be a part of that mix. Whether you like it or not."

The throbbing in my head intensified with Eldarion's words. A strange mix of magic and metal? Was that why my past felt so... fragmented? Did I belong to this chaotic world, or was I just another casualty of a malfunctioning portal?

"What do you mean?" I croaked, the question echoing the hollowness I felt inside.

Eldarion gestured around the dimly lit space. We were in a large, cavernous room, its walls lined with piles of scrap metal and broken machines. A faint, rhythmic clanging sounded from somewhere deeper within, hinting at some unseen activity.

"This is our guildhall," he explained. "The Steel Ravens. We're a group of scavengers, salvagers, and tinkerers who make a living combing through the wreckage of these portals, picking up whatever valuables we can find."

Borin grunted in agreement. "We've seen all sorts of things come through those portals, Steel. Strange creatures, magical artifacts, even people like you – folks with no memory of their past."

He pointed at a hulking figure tinkering with a dented robot in the corner. The figure looked up briefly, revealing a glowing red eye beneath a thick metal head, a cyborg, before returning to his work.

"That's Gork," Borin said. "Came through a portal ten years ago. Doesn't remember a thing about his life before, but the man can fix anything with gears and wires."

Gork's example offered a sliver of hope. Perhaps there was a way to recover my past, some artifact or hidden knowledge within this world that could unlock the secrets of my identity.

"So, what happens now?" I asked, clenching my fists.

Eldarion raised an eyebrow. "That's entirely up to you, Steel. You can try to piece together your past, a dangerous but potentially rewarding path. Or you can stay with us, learn the ways of the Steel Ravens, and carve out a new life for yourself in this chaotic world."

He gave me a long, assessing look. "One thing's for sure," he continued, his voice low and firm, "This world doesn't offer shelter for the weak. You'll need to decide what you're made of, Steel. And fast."

A wave of uncertainty washed over me. My head throbbed, the memories flickering like dying embers. Yet, amidst the fear and confusion, a spark of determination ignited. I wouldn't succumb to helplessness.

"I'll stay," I declared, my voice surprisingly steady. "I'll learn about this world, about these portals, and maybe, just maybe, I'll find a way to remember who I am."

Eldarion and Borin exchanged a surprised look. A hint of a smile played on Eldarion's lips. "Welcome to the Steel Ravens, then," he said, a hint of warmth in his voice. "We may not have all the answers, Steel, but we'll help you find them. One scrap at a time."

Borin thumped me on the back, nearly sending me sprawling again. "Good lad! Now, let's get you cleaned up and fed. You look like you could use a good meal and a decent night's sleep... well, as decent as sleep gets in a scrapyard like this."

As they led me deeper into the guildhall, the rhythmic clanging grew louder, punctuated by the occasional spark and hiss. A new life, fraught with danger and uncertainty, stretched before me. But for the first time since waking up in that cold metal shell, I felt a flicker of hope. Perhaps, amidst the chaos of this world, I could forge my own destiny.