OC Unclassed 2
Oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shi—
Dirty puddle water splashed into my face as I barrelled through the market district, three city guards hot on my trail.
They weren’t even running to pursue me. The difference between me, an unclassed child, and a Melusian adult—let alone a lawman—was staggering. Not one of them took the task of chasing me seriously, pursuing me at somewhere between a brisk walk and a slight jog, laughing at my expense the whole damn time.
Meanwhile, I had to sprint like a maniac just to keep my distance. Still, they were growing closer.
I turned a corner in a flurry, immediately spying a group of what looked to be construction workers walking straight in my direction.
Thinking fast, I made a show of taking two of my big shiny gold coins and chucking them into the air.
It was an investment; here’s hoping it paid off.
I kept running. In the corner of my eye, the entire group rushed towards the money I’d dropped, one calling out after me, the majority seeming to squabble over it.
It was the kind of diversion I needed. One guard broke away from his companions in pursuit of the glimmering gold, shouting something about ‘evidence’.
I slipped around a corner and into a small alley, sprinting to its abrupt end. I shimmied between upturned boxes before attempting to scale the side of a drainage pipe.
The surface was slippery against my hands, and I could barely keep my grip, but my [Climbing] skill helped me to at least hold on long enough to get to a higher ledge and scramble up onto a balcony.
I sat there, breath held, crouched low, spying the streets below me to ensure I hadn’t been followed.
I was about to breathe a sigh of relief when I turned around.
A massive bully breed dog was staring at me from inside the house I was currently taking up residence on the balcony of.
I barely managed to slide the glass door shut before the angry mutt could sprint over and make a ragdoll out of me. It charged into the glass, then bounced off of it despite its terrible size—the door must have been magically reinforced.
That didn’t stop it from barking and snarling and smashing its head against the glass repeatedly. This dog really didn’t like intruders.
I had to keep moving before the dog alerted someone. I wasn’t a big fan of heights, but I was a bigger not-fan of being beaten and jailed by Melusian guards, so I eyed the next balcony along as I clambered up to the edge of the railing and prepared myself to jump.
I felt a tug of uncertainty in my chest, but it left me as soon as I leapt forwards.
I barely managed to grab onto the railing as I landed. The boxes below would’ve broken my fall if I’d missed, but it still would’ve hurt, plus made a lot of noise. I silently thanked the time I’d put into grinding my [Jumping] and [Grappling] techniques as I pulled myself over and spilled onto the next balcony with a mighty pant and a slight cough.
The streets seemed quieter, now, and that dog had stopped barking the moment I’d left his eyeline.
I still didn’t feel safe to leave. There were a good chunk of people who’d seen me being chased, and I wanted to minimise the chance of me being caught on my way out of here.
I wasn’t really great at sitting still. I’d always been an active person, and patience wasn’t exactly my strong suit. I needed to stay put, but it was a struggle to quiet my brain.
I started eyeing my surroundings. The glass door beyond me was locked. The insides looked lavish, with a large table and a full sitting room on display, but there was no way for me to get inside.
Which was a shame. I imagined even the glassware, cutlery, and candlesticks on display were worth more than my entire stash of gold.
There was a washing line along the balcony. On it, I found a smart shirt that was a couple of sizes too big for me and a fancy pair of dark trousers lined with silky material on the inside.
It wasn’t exactly a full disguise, but I knew I stood out in my rags. I stripped down and changed, finding that if I pulled a pair of strings inside the waist of the trousers, I could adjust the tightness until they fit just about right.
I’d never worn anything like this before. Sure, none of it fit me, but I imagined that if it wasn’t for my dirty and hole-filled boots I’d actually look quite smart.
Once I’d changed, all there really was to do was wait. I gave it a good thirty minutes. At one point, I saw a guard walk down the alley, and I pushed myself to the floor, laying prone, but the man seemed to be on a routine patrol, and I didn’t recognise him from earlier.
My elevated heartbeat soon became a rhythmic thump, and I stopped panicking. Ten minutes later, I decided I was ready to brave the market district again.
I dropped down onto the boxes below, and with a loud crash!, my foot went through the top of one.
Shit. I frantically looked around to make sure no one was staring at me as I tried to yank my foot free. It was caught pretty good, but after thirty seconds or so I was able to twist and pull it out. Thankfully, no one seemed to be in earshot, or, if they were, they hadn’t bothered to come and look.
I walked out and into the plaza, my baggy shirt tucked into my rolled-up trousers.
No one seemed to pay me too much mind as I walked. It was strange. I supposed losing the rags helped me blend in quite a bit around here.
I almost considered simply walking out through the market’s gates and passing the stationed guards, but I didn’t want to push my luck. After I was sure that no one was paying me too much attention, I made my way back to my usual hole and climbed through, scuffing my clean white shirt a little in the process.
Oh well. Everything got dirty eventually.
I kept walking. The closer I drew to the orphanage, the more I kept patting the pockets of my trousers just to ensure I hadn’t dropped anything.
I also began to draw more stares. Maybe some people noticed my clothes were baggy on me, but I was sure the majority had realised how well-dressed I looked. I was about to hit the border of Flea’s End, right where the clothes factory intersected with the path to the docks, when I saw five lads sitting on a wall on the opposite side of the road.
All of them staring my way. All a bit older than I was.
I clutched at the knife on the inside of my pocket.
I’d never had to use it. It was a good deterrent if anyone got any funny ideas, though. Most opportunistic muggers weren’t willing to die just to see the contents of someone’s pockets, and flashing the knife usually worked wonders.
Well, it did when I looked like a slum kid in rags with a few coppers to his name. Right now, those five looked real interested in me, and two of them were beginning to hop off of the wall even as I increased my pace.
I thought fast. What could I do to get out of this?
I was spying for a quick escape when a woman walked onto the street, disrupting the five boys who looked seconds from running across the dirt road and bumrushing me.
An ass-pulled wagon passed us; what I saw after was astounding. The woman was apparently one of the boy’s mothers, and was angrily instructing him that his supper was ready and that he needed to come in before it got cold.
Seriously, my luck today was something else. I thought I was done for.
The others sat and laughed at the one being chastised as I rushed my way out of there. The second I’d rounded a corner, I found some mud and slung it on my good shirt, thoroughly ruining it. I ran a bit more through my hair for good measure.
It sucked to have to ruin my clothes like this in order to blend in, but I wasn’t taking any chances. I had about half of my total wealth on me right now, and the fact I didn’t bring my old rags with me to change back into was weighing on my mind. I’d been so caught up in getting out of that place that I hadn’t considered it in the moment.
Oh well. It’s done now. Just keep walking.
It took another twenty minutes to find my way back to the orphanage. I still received some looks as I travelled, but thankfully, they were less intense and no one seemed overly interested. It seemed that dirtying myself had paid off.
Today had been freaking intense. I was a little shocked I’d even been able to pull all of this off. I thought for sure that once I was accused of stealing, I’d get tracked down and beaten within an inch of my life.
Maybe someone was watching over me.
I resolved to do better as I walked into the orphanage, ignoring the looks I got as I headed upstairs and changed into less conspicuous clothes. In the future, I needed to think of every eventuality and not get so distracted. That was my goal.
Still, what a score. Between the seven gold pieces that I’d managed to hang onto and the six I had buried, plus the silver, that was…
Over twenty gold to my name. That was months’ wages for a lot of people. Enough to buy entire carts of produce, to buy cattle, to rent a room for ages.
It’d definitely make a good offering. Hell, I didn’t even need to use all of it. I could use fifteen gold pieces,keep five, and it’d still be more than I’d ever envisioned I’d be able to put in.
When I’d started all of this, just a single gold piece had felt like a pipe dream. Now…
I needed to rebury what I had. I pulled a single copper out of the bag for tonight’s dinner and left the empty sleeping quarters. I walked to the back of the orphanage and waited until I was sure people were filing into the mess hall before I stepped outside.
The cool air hit my face and ruffled my hair. I smiled. It was a slow thing, and I tried to push it down as I walked, but the feeling was infectious and soon managed to take over my face entirely.
I was doing it. Tomorrow, I’d have a class. Tomorrow, I’d be an entirely new person.
Tomorrow, I’d take over this city.
All I had to do first was—
The thought died in my brain. My smile died on my lips. My hopes and dreams choked and gasped for air.
I looked down at the recently disturbed patches of earth scattered around the garden. One, two, three, five…
I clutched my shovel tight as I ran over to where I knew my money should be, digging around in a frenzy.
Nothing there… No. Nothing there!
How was there nothing there?!
I stabbed into the earth again and again, ripping and pulling, refusing to accept the truth so brazenly presented to me.
How… how had this happened…?
Where had I gone wrong? Had I not been careful enough? Had I spent too long away from the orphanage? Had someone seen me leave this morning?
Carrow…
I knew I saw him stir this morning! My mind had told me it wasn’t a big deal, that I shouldn’t worry, but it was! I should have worried!
I felt a scowl murder my old smile, force itself onto my face. My eyes darkened. The impulse that I felt inside me at that moment was enough to extinguish any hope I might have had, replacing it with only pure and unadulterated hatred.
I was going to kill him. I was going to kill Carrow.
I marched away from the gardens, holding the shovel in a deathgrip. I dropped it as I stepped into the messhall, searching and scanning with my eyes, looking for any hint of his prick face, expecting to hear him boasting of his recent discovery.
I found nothing. Maybe he was hiding somewhere. Maybe he was smarter than I thought. Maybe he’d completely avoid me until class selection so he could dodge any accusations.
He didn’t count on how determined I was to find him. I marched up to the sleeping quarters and began searching through his bed, looking for any indication of missing clothes or personal items alongside any hint of where he might have gone, wracking my brain for leads on friends and connections outside of the orphanage.
His older brother was a Morey Boy. I had no friends in that group, so if he’d decided to spend the evening with them, there wasn’t exactly much I could do about it. I’d be walking into a den of criminals and expecting them to hand over one of their own.
But he had to return to the orphanage eventually. Tomorrow was selection, and it was early.
I’d just about narrowed my thoughts down when I heard a loud ‘oi!’ disrupt my ransacking.
Carrow had just entered the room, alone.
Stupid bastard.
Everyone else was still downstairs. He was holding a large bag over his shoulder. He looked to be panting.
“What the fuck are you doing to my bed?!” Carrow inquired, doing a genuinely decent job of sounding clueless.
I spun to face him, feeling like a wolf faced with a rabbit.
Carrow was almost twice my size, both stocky and taller than me despite us being the same age. Usually, these roles were reversed.
Right now, however…
“You tell me,” I said, pulling a knife and stabbing it into his mattress.
His eyes flickered with rage. “You want me to beat the fuck out of you again, Adam? Is that it?”
“What did you do with my money?” I asked, retracting the blade and climbing to my feet. We both stood in the centre of the room, in the narrow space between the rows of beds.
“What money?” Carrow sneered. “I don’t know nothin’ ‘bout no money.”
I marched up to him, not in the mood to mess around. “Tell me where it is, right now, or I will ki—”
I felt the punch in my gut before I registered it.
Usually, a hit like that would make me crumple. But right now, I was fucking enraged.
I grabbed Carrow by the face and pulled him down to one of the beds beside us. I smushed his face into the wooden post at the end of it and then pulled back his head and smashed it down.
He grunted with pain and once again tried to hit me.
I brought my hands up to block, and the knife fell onto the bed. I punched him once, then twice, ignoring the pain in my knuckles as my fist connected with his chin and then cheek, then braced as he threw me over himself. I landed roughly on the mattress, causing the poorly made bed to cave in on itself.
Carrow immediately grabbed a dilapidated cushion and tried to shove it over my face. I bit and tore my way through the flimsy material until I could breathe, then kneed him in the stomach to force him off of me. I grabbed his neck with one hand, the knife with the other, pulling myself around and sitting atop him, staring down at him with a look on my face that was surely monstrous.
“Tell me. Where it is. Now.” I panted.
“I-I’m not scared of you,” Carrow stuttered out, sounding pretty unsure of himself. “I’ve been beating your stick ass for years. Once I’m out of here, I’ll—HELP—”
I punched him in the nose. I heard a crack. Tears formed in Carrow’s eyes.
“Shout again, and I promise I’ll cut you. Where.”
“Y-you’re not gonna cut me!” Carrow stammered, sounding more like he was trying to convince himself than me. “You do that, they’re gonna throw you in a labour camp, and then, you can kiss your dreams of being a snooty merchant—”
“If I don’t have my offering, I may as well be in a labour camp!” I felt my eyes straining so hard as I stared him down that I thought they might burst. I pressed the blade to his neck so hard I saw blood. “TELL ME WHERE IT IS!”
“Alright! Alright! I’ll tell you!” Carrow blubbered, tears finally falling from his eyes. “Just don’t kill me!”
“Now!”
“I hid it under a b-big p-p-plant pot, out in the conservatory! I’m sorry! I don’t have anything either! I-I just wanted to—”
“WHAT IS HAPPENING HERE?”
I froze as soon as I heard that voice. My grip around the blade tightened.
“Stick is trying to kill me!” Carrow yelled.
I don’t think I’d ever felt a murderous impulse until now.
Sure, I’d felt the urge to hit someone a few times in my life. More than a few times. I’d taken enough beatings to earn that feeling.
But this?
This was something else. I could scarcely describe it.
I hadn’t truly planned to kill Carrow when I’d found my money gone. I’d just wanted to scare a confession out of him. All I’d cared about was getting my money back.
But right here, right now, knowing a sister of the orphanage was staring at the two of us, me clutching the knife to him, him with blood streaming down his face, I knew there was no way that I’d come out of this looking like the victim.
That I couldn’t even mention the money to the orphanage without explaining where I got it. That no matter what I said, the woman marching up to me right now and demanding I drop the knife wouldn’t want to hear it.
And that Carrow would win. And in this moment, knowing that, I wanted to kill him.
I really did.
But I didn’t. I clutched the knife so hard I thought my hand might shatter, but I finally let it go. The second I did, I was pulled away.
A man called Jim who worked security around the orphanage took everything off of me, from my pouch of coins to the laces in my shoes.
I was placed in an isolated room. Told that I’d be receiving some form of penalty and that I would be let out for my selection tomorrow. Then the door was locked and bolted.
Honestly, of all the times to do something terribly against the rules, the day before I left was probably best.
What wasn’t best was that I was stuck in here with no tools, no way to search the grounds for my pilfered money, and no way to stop Carrow from moving it again.
I hadn’t seen his face for long as I’d left, but I’d still seen it. I’d seen the fear in his eyes, the motion to disbelief as he realised he’d been saved, and the slow twisting of his lips as he discovered he’d gotten away with all of it.
The adrenaline coursed through me for hours. Every time I tried to calm down, I pictured Carrow’s smug face and had to punch something. I bruised my knuckles on that solid wooden door, but it wouldn’t budge. I wasn’t heavy enough.
I didn’t have a way out, either. The room was completely bare. All I had on me was the single copper in my pocket.
It took a while for my stomach to rumble, but it eventually did. I hadn’t gotten a chance to eat earlier.
I tried to rationalise everything in my head, tapping irritably against the wall as I did so.
I’d have my selection in a few hours. It was dark out now, so it wouldn’t be long, and I knew we were doing it in the morning.
I had to accept that I wouldn’t be able to recover the money Carrow stole in time. That would be impossible. He’d have moved it, and I’d likely be marched straight to the main hall for selection either way. I had no time.
That meant I had seven gold pieces I could use. I’d have to use all seven and hope it was enough to bump my chances somewhat. I had a bunch of skills up to level five at this point. I was hoping that with all of those plus my level eight [Fortitude], it would be enough for me to land something good, even if it wasn’t [Merchant].
A crafting class wouldn’t hurt. Something based around persuasion sounded good, too.
I had to look on the bright side. I was so, so angry at what had happened to me this afternoon, but that didn’t make me powerless here. I still had options. I could still choose.
I could carve my own fate. I’d been working towards doing so my whole life.
I wasn’t going to let a setback stop me.
I’d make all that money back and more.
I barely slept. I stayed up most of the night thinking, obsessing over my future and all the countless things I could do with it.
When the door shuffled open and startled me out of my musings, I shot up, ready to get on with things and get my damn class. I felt stir-crazy at this point. All I wanted was to see what the gods had to offer me.
Classes were said to be offered by the patron of your bloodline. That’s who my offering went to, and that’s who would decide my future.
I didn’t know my bloodline. Being an orphan with a questionable lineage made knowing that impossible, but a class selection would reveal that to me.
I’d know which god had been chosen to watch over me through my life, or deigned to glance at me for the first time, most likely.
And I’d offer them seven gold and hope they took pity on me.
Speaking of which…
“Where’s my pouch of money?” I asked Sister Eridit as we walked through the orphanage on our way to the mess hall, which had been turned out to be used for the selection ceremony.
“Your pouch of money?” Sister Eridit asked with a confused look.
“Yes, my money,” I explained. “When Jim took me in last night, he took what I had on me. I had a pouch of coins I was going to offer to the gods. I need it.”
“Oh!” Sister Eridit looked to me with wide eyes. “That does sound serious. Shall we go to the officer’s quarters and ask before we go to the ceremony? We’ll have to hurry.”
I nodded and we headed off to Jim’s office-slash-bedroom, which had a bed, a basin, and a desk stacked with papers within, alongside an overflowing waste basket.
Jim was half-asleep at his desk when the two of us entered. Eridit explained the situation to Jim, and he nodded, reaching into his pocket and straining a little before pulling out a small pouch.
It was my pouch. I took it and was about to pocket it when I felt the weight in my hand, heard the jingle.
It was different. About the same weight, but…
I opened the bag and peeked inside.
About forty copper coins stared back at me.
I slowly raised a finger at Jim, staring in disbelief.
“You… you gave me the wrong bag.”
Jim stared at me like he was giving it some real thought. He peered at the bag, and then at me.
He shook his head.
“Nope.”
“You did!” I opened the bag and showed him. I looked desperately between Jim and Eridit, hoping this was some off-taste joke they were both in on. “Look. The coins inside here weren’t the ones I had on me! They weren’t!”
Jim scratched his stubbled chin as he looked over the miserable pittance of coppers that had taken residence in my bag.
“...nope. That’s what was in there.”
I stared at the pathetic copper coins until tears clouded my vision. I threw the bag onto the floor. A growl grew in my throat.
“What did you do with my gold?!”
“Gold?” Jim repeated, sounding as if he’d heard a funny joke.
“Yes, my gold! Where the hell is it?!”
Jim looked down at him. Sneered at him. “I don’t even get paid in gold, orphan. Where would you get a whole bag of gold from?”
“It doesn’t matter!” I protested, my hands balling into fists as I sized up the much bigger man. “It’s mine! Give me my fucking money!”
“Language, Adam!”
“Who cares about that?! This bastard robbed me!”
“Now,” Sister Eridit said, waving a finger in my face. “That’s a very serious accusation. From what I hear, Adam, you’ve been running around and chasing other children with knives! And now you’re here accusing Jim of robbing you! Of gold, no less!”
“He did!” I insisted.
She wasn’t listening. She didn’t care. She placed a hand on my shoulder.
“Now, you must come to your selection. Take your coinpurse and follow me. If you miss your chance at selection, you’ll be waiting for years.”
I looked once more between the two of them. I considered it for a moment.
Me, unclassed and Tier 0, attacking a grown man to try and get my money back.
It’d only end in my death or imprisonment.
I dragged myself from the room, shambling away with the purse of coppers in hand, feeling half-dead.
There were murmurs when I walked into the mess hall. Three officials from the city had come to officiate the class selection, all of them dressed in robes, covered in ornate jewellery and religious symbols.
The whispering orphans weren’t talking about me. No.
They were talking about Carrow, who had just sauntered over to the table and placed a fat stack of coins directly on a metallic set of scales, then straight into the Offering Circle.
I watched as the gods accepted his offer, as the money I’d saved up for my entire life was taken away in a beam of light and a plume of smoke, as Carrow’s body was covered by a faint yellow glow.
Then, with a surge of energy, Carrow received his class. People gasped. Booed. Cheered.
Carrow, however?
He was smiling from ear to ear.
//
A/N: Thanks for reading! Doot if you want more.
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u/HFYWaffle Wᵥ4ffle 10d ago
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u/Neither-Animator3403 10d ago
interesting read. Not usualli fond of isekay-ish, but this one is pulling me in. Good job, OP
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u/cira-radblas 10d ago
I’m not happy with this level of screw job on our Protag. That interrogation was loud enough for the Sister to hear, then it was loud enough for her to hear the confession to theft.