Chương 3: Welcome to Grandport.

That was fast, thank Kronan. She peeked out from under the cloak and spotted a small ship approaching. A narrow wooden hull with a large white triangular sail, full of wind.

"She lives! Grab the lines, we, ve got a live one!" shouted the large figure on the bow of the ship, with a thick Mereian accent. Well that's not intimidating at all. More Mereians? Am I in Southermere? Or is this still Greymere Kingdom? The thought of more Mereian food caused her heart to sink. Nythera immediately readied her… nothing, she had lost her pack in the turbulence and didn't even have so much as a dagger to her name anymore.

Her stamina was capped out at 160/160 and her recently enhanced health was sitting at 160/250, rapidly healing her, but based on how much breathing hurt, she still had a few broken ribs. At least I have my basic resources, could be worse… But there was nowhere she could go, stuck on a magical floating rock in the middle of an unknown sea. I could trying bringing forth the bombard, my stats are all higher than there were before, nearly doubled… but Still way below the skill's minimums.

Do I really want to become a fireball again? Decidedly not.

"Hello stranger" he shouted, waving.

"We've come to save ya", as a white line was tossed from the ship, landing on her rock.

"Grab and we'll pull ya right in". He said. Grabbing a hold of the line, she held tightly as they pulled her up against the ship, its sails loosened and flapped in the wind as they slowed to a stop.

"Welcome aboard miss" a muscular arm reached out and she was pulled on deck. Byebye magical rocky. She spared one last look for her travel companion.

"Names Lance, Lance Breakrock, and who might you be? Got some awfully… strange hair." The giant said. Lance was a big man, stocky and tall, with a strange weapon she didn't recognize strapped to his back. He wore a simple white tunic and farming overalls. Several rings decorated his hands.

"I'm Nythera, where are we? I am not sure how I got to the open ocean" She reached for a handshake.

"Welcome Nyth to the land in the mist!" Lance loudly declared, gesturing around at the distant white walls while reducing Nythera to a pet name. He took her hand and vigorously shook it. His grip was hot, as if he had just been holding onto sun-heated metal. OUCH, just how much strength does this guy have?? She grimaced. He's definitely got multiple Strata on me.

"I love doing these introductions, always such fun." he chuckled to the old man. Another man approached, wearing similar clothing and armed with a short sword sheathed at the belt. He had grey hair and a limp in his right leg, using a wood stick as a crutch. A white scruffy beard and eyes armed with suspicion glared back at her.

"an unclassed, this one" he grumbled.

"A mere child".

"Well isn't that something" Lance remarked with a smirk.

"Are you poor excuses for pirates or some kind of merchants?" Nythera inquired with a raised eyebrow. The old man snorted and Lance chuckled.

"No, little lady, we are just simple farmers who dabble in fishing and rescue" Lanced replied.

"Aint nuthin to pirate 'round 'ere anyways" the old man remarked, spitting into the sea. Slapping her on the back Lance assured her.

"Dontcha worry a thing, we'll get you fixed right up, straight back to Grandport. Lucky you, landing here during Everon." He nearly killed me with that slap. She gasped for breath. He hoisted the lines and the sail filled with a snap, launching the boat forwards.

"Where is Grandport? Forgive me I've never heard of it, Is it one of the Tide Dukedoms?" She asked as she caught her breath.

"No missy, we don't answer to any duke or such, nothing of the sort, this is the mist, there ain't no rulers 'ere". The old man replied.

"No rulers? That's not possible, are you saying there's no domain core holder?" There is no land with no rulers, but the world was claimed long ago? Where the fuck am I?

"Aint never been no core, aint never will be" the old man replied. In all her time travelling the world she had never heard of a lordless land. Where in the blazes am I? where did Vathrial go? As if reading her mind, or perhaps her face, Lance snorted "This ain't Vathrial missy, welcome to the lands beyond."

"Beyond?" She stared off into the waters, that should not exist.

"So Nyth, didya get a good title from that little spin?" Lance inquired. He grinned again like he already knew, which he clearly did.

"Yes…. How did you know?" Nyth pouted.

"Every lad or lass that pops up from the sea gets one, you youngins with no class get the best ones." Lance said begrudgingly.

"There was another lad, showed up off the eastern sea just a few hours ago, got a nice little title for his troubles." Do people come here that often? Could … could someone else have survived? The sailboat flew towards an island looming in the distance. The vessel was handled with seasoned ease, surety in every step. The flux swirled and weaved in the sky above them, increasing in density as they approached the island. Before long buildings dotted the coast on an inset bay and mountains towered behind them.

Grandport is a lot bigger than I thought it would be, really living up to the 'Grand' in Grandport. Peering around from the deck, two more large islands were visible in the distance. But they were quite far away, and she wasn't sure if one was actually an island or just the light playing tricks on her. As they approached the coast, the settlement came into sight. Sprawling docks and fishing ships coming in and out of port. The city consisted largely of stone houses, much like those of the Eastern kingdoms.

Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author. Just like Greymere… lovely. A frown crossed her face for a split second. As the boat drifted into the marina, Lance leapt onto the dock from yards away, rope flying in hand and pulled the boat up against the dock with casual ease. She ran down the gangplank and onto the docks as they finished letting down the sail.

"Alrighty, time for orientation Nyth" Lance said, gesturing to follow. Again with the pet name. She pouted.

"This fine city is called Grandport, it's a collection of survivors who have been deposited here for the last 80 years, practically all from Greymere." Lance explained.

"People here just want a quiet life, most of us have gone through a lot or lost someone to Fluxspawn in the woods, so tread lightly, miss." he advised. Lance led her down a fairly wide cobbled road, two wagons could fit comfortably side by side. Two-story stone and timber houses lined the road, often with signs hanging down for various wares, artifacts, a bakery, some kind of runescribe service. The few people she did see seemed comfortable and happy, chatting idly on the street and wearing relaxed smiles.

From what little she could catch, their worries seemed almost luxurious.

"Hey Trish, ya got that shipment of iron?", "Nah, those bastards up in the Rustreach never deliver on time." Compared to Greymere the difference was stark. That's just because Greymere is fucking terrible …. The memory of heckling villagers on Greypoint came back to her.

"You pick up another castaway, Lance? She for the fields?" An old, hunched over woman called out.

"Yeah, that's right, just taking her to get registered." Lance called back. The old woman hobbled over and thrust out her hand, forcing Nythera to take an apple.

"Oh, you'll enjoy the fields, sweetie. Lots o' folks came along jus' like you. Don't fret, we'll look after ya, we will." She smiled a toothy grin. Nythera smiled back half-heartedly. I'm… not sure I want to work the fields, peace or not. They came out onto a central plaza which branched into half a dozen different roads of various sizes. People, from many walks of life, came and went.

Nestled between a boisterous tavern and a smithy ringing with hammerwork was a tall three story building that dominated the surroundings. That's probably the townhall. In the center of the plaza where all the roads met stood a strange looking stone. Waist-height, pitch-black, with strange runes carved in the side and a rounded top, shaped like an egg. She could only make out that there were carvings due to the waning sunlight.

"And this here is the cityhall, we conduct all matters of government here, we'll get you relocated to a cozy home from here, farmers are always looking for more hands to work." Lance said with a smile. Now that he mentioned it, Nythera noticed that the weapon sticking out of Lance's back was actually a farming hoe. Hes…. a farmer? A regular farmer? No, he must be some kind of local leader and a farmer. maybe.

A glimmer on his right hand caught her attention, an expensive looking ring; Nythera swore she had seen something similar to it before. But where was it? Ignoring the oddity that was Lance, she approached the stone in the middle of the plaza and leaned in to examine the runes. This looks kinda interesting, wonder who made it…. A gasp followed. This… is Aurendorian! Her father had taught her these runes when she was a child.

"If you ever run into one of these, you should be able to read it, they once held power and meaning for our family" He had told her. But… She hated studying the runes, especially since father had told her that nearly all of the Aurendorian buildings had been destroyed long ago. Father would be saying "Told you so" about now. A smile reached her face. How exactly they worked or what they were connected to, she didn't know.

She could barely read the inscription:"Myrraval Supply Depot #3" She saw a thin, silver stream of flux twirling into the top end of the stone, leading off into the distance. What the fuck is a supply depot? Maybe this rock has some kind of interior space. She squinted at it. Nythera supposed there could be a substructure underneath it but she had no way to verify it and suddenly tearing up the plaza cobblestones would not make a good first impression.

"The island is dotted with these funny rocks, there's some bigger buildings deeper in the interior, all with the same runes and architecture, we decided this one would make a nice decoration… not that we could move it anyways". Lance said preemptively.

"There wouldn't happen to be a building right near the center of the island, would there?" Nythera inquired, greed spilling from eyes.

"Well actually miss, there is a large square building right near the central lake, we call it Mirrorwake, you just follow the river past the mountains and it'll take you straight there" Lance replied.

"But the damn things are near indestructible, we have tried just about everything to try breaking into them, but couldn't even cause a damn dent." Lance added dejectedly. That's exactly where a domain core would be right? If I can crack it open I can nab an authority class before my Class Selection in a few weeks, this could change everything! If I can get power, Authority stat maybe, I could finally start fighting back instead of being on the run constantly. No more fleeing…

just live my own life in peace, well maybe after I've killed a few inquisitors.

"Tell me how I can get there, preferably sooner rather than later" Nythera demanded, overcome with greed. Lance chided her "Now little miss, the interior is dangerous, overrun with fluxspawn from dungeons we don't even know about".

"We spend most of our resources just defending the blasted land we got, let alone pressing inwards, fluxspawns are everywhere, Kronan damn it." He said in a storm.

"Come on, let's get you settled, a nice family will take you in and you can work for a living once things calm down and you adjust." Lance started heading toward the town hall, gesturing for her to follow. Nythera started "Lance… I'm very thankful for all the help you've provided thus far, but I have no intention of becoming a farmhand, sorry". She looked away. I don't want to sound ungrateful and a peaceful life would be nice… but after what they did to my father and Will, peace is not an option.

She grit her teeth. Lance looked back at her, thinking for a moment, "Well then miss, what do you intend to do? We don't abide by any freeloaders and you're gonna need to earn your keep around here." He crossed his arms, looking at her expectantly.

"I am sick and tired of people controlling me. Lance I have something I must do and to do it I need strength, I will challenge dungeons and climb the strata" Nythera declared. She stared straight at Lance, eyes daring him to object. Revenge isn't served on a platter, Tianshiang will pay. They will pay for sicing those inquisitors on us. He sighed.

"You sure that's wise missy? You just survived an often-lethal trip here and who knows why you fell into that pit in the first place, you could start quiet here and have a peaceful life, no one knows who you were before." Lance softly suggested, as if he'd given this speech many times before.

"Myrraval might look peaceful, but this is a dangerous island, especially the interior." he added. I'm sorry Lance, but I didn't come here to cower. Nythera clenched her first and stared back. ….

"Alright missy I get the idea" Lance looked away and walked towards the town hall.

"But you still need to be registered, gotta keep track of all you new yougins, dungeon delving or not" he shoved open the doors. Paperwork was everywhere, nearly every surface of the room was covered in a thick mat of it. The chairs, which were presumably for guests, were covered in sword-stopping stacks of paper. Nested against the back wall was a large desk with an old lady in well-tailored clothing working away at stacks of paper. Lance walked straight up to the desk and gestured for Nythera to follow.

The old lady looked up, stared for several seconds, and finally spoke "howdy darlin', how ya holdin' up? good to see another face 'round here, Lance, much obliged fer bringin' me them safe and sound. ya hear 'bout what went down with Eliza the other day? she caught her hubby down in the well! I tell ya, the well! reckon that's a sight to see!" A deluge of nonsense came out. What language is this… I've never heard it before in all my travels. Hey! She has the same ring as Lance, swear I've seen it before somewhere.

Lance replied in gibber-speak "Well don'tcha know a thing or two, his cousin actually went…" and Nythera tuned out the conversation. I need to rest. Her body felt like lead and her mind, foggy. That rock was not a comfortable resting place. I'll be damned if I don't sleep some place proper tonight. At some point, Nythera wasn't really sure how much time had passed, Lance turned to face her.

"We ought to get the miss to bed, she's had a mighty busy day, mind if we use the second floor bedroom 'ere?" Lance asked.

"Go right ahead sweety." The secretary replied with a nonchalant wave of her hand. Lance pulled her up the stairs and brought her down a hallway, "You can stay here for now till we figure out your situation" he said. Nythera entered and found a small, quaint room with very little furniture. Will would be jealous… That blasted empire will pay. She collapsed onto the bed, soft fabrics lulling her to sleep in an instant.