The Continent

chapter 1

May 2, 1456 of the Third Age, in the city of Talos, in the kingdom whose pockets run deep and whose best times are behind it. It is a dirty industrial town run on slave labor and the slave trade. Its people cling to false hope and often end up victims of the slave trade or, worse, murder. Small petty gangs control the streets, but the guards of the corporations run the town with a firm grasp—except for those with the money to pay them for a blind eye. Gangs and guards often work in tandem; when one group is on one block, the other is on the next, effectively controlling the people from ever gaining the will to fight against their oppressors. The city itself sits upon an island north of the continent in the Bay of Ordur. It is the third-largest island on the continent, yet the least traveled to. Its people often live in complete ignorance of the world outside their island. Many gifts the world has to offer are outlawed there and have been for four centuries. Some gifts of the world were lost to time and became stories and legends. But this is not a story of a city or an island; it is the story of a young man just reaching his twentieth winter.

Talos stands as a testament to the relentless march of progress and the ravages it leaves in its wake. The skies are perpetually overcast, shrouded in thick, acrid smoke that billows from countless factories. The sun is a mere memory, its light dimmed by the soot and ash that blanket the city. The streets are narrow and winding, hemmed in by towering buildings of iron and brick, their surfaces blackened by decades of pollution. The air is heavy with the stench of burning coal, mingling with the sour odor of unwashed bodies and rotting refuse. The once grand avenues are now lined with beggars and urchins, their faces gaunt and eyes hollow, mere shadows of the people they once were.

The sounds of the city are a constant cacophony of hammers striking metal, the hiss of steam engines, and the mournful wails of those who have lost everything to the insatiable maw of industrialization. The river that cuts through Talos, once a lifeline for trade and travel, is now a sluggish, toxic sludge, its waters choked with debris and filth. The bridges spanning the river are rusting relics, their once proud arches now sagging under the weight of neglect and decay.

In the heart of this dismal metropolis, down a back alley, crouched behind a barrel of fish and salt, sits Dimitri. He is thin, with visible cheekbones and small cuts and dirt covering his hands and face. His dirty blond hair is shaggy, draping down past his ears, and it, too, is covered in dirt. But his blue eyes are not dirty, and like unreachable stars, they shine. As he sits, he ponders, "Could I... I can eat one. But can I do it fast enough not to get caught? Can I even get out of here with it without getting caught?" The smell of the fish is enticing. Dimitri reaches out and grabs a nice, plump fish from the barrel—enough to fill his stomach for two full days if he rations correctly. But for now, he must find a place to eat. Dimitri walks to the corner of the alley, pulls his hood up over his head, and steps out into the street, turning and heading toward the deep slums—the part of the city where guards do not patrol and gangs seldom go, as there’s no money to be made in the streets of the deep slums.

The deep slums are a place of utter despair. The buildings here are crumbling, their facades riddled with cracks and holes. The streets are unpaved, turning to muddy quagmires whenever it rains. The people here live covered in rags, dirt, and feces. Most are friends with one another, sharing the same food source: trash. But that’s what makes a difference down here. Everyone is as poor as the next, creating a sad life if one spends their time alone, away from the family bond that is established by the people of the deep slums. That is Dimitri's home.

As he rounds the last corner and starts down the steps to the slums, he hears the voice of Esa, the young girl who had grown up in the slums with him since childhood. She was his best friend, goofy, and she brought joy and hope to the boring days of his life.

"Wait up for me!" she calls, running through the crowds of people.

"Don't I always? Plus, I got a surprise for you," shouted Dimitri back. "How didn’t I think of Esa? She's been my friend forever; it's only right I share with her," he thought to himself as he waited for Esa. She soon stood next to him, and he turned to lead the way down the stairs into the deep slums.