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by Piper
Rated: E · Fiction · Action/Adventure · #2297728
Pt. 1 of my story-playthrough on Kenshi. I play the game, and write as I go. Experiment!
A deep blue sky.

The soft grainy feeling of, 'sand.'

And the blazing heat.

The one-armed skeleton awoke. However long they were rested there, was unknown. Memory banks were scarce. As a skeleton, a reset was not uncommon, but it appears all crucial data was gone.

Where has their arm gone? Where are they? Why are they here? Hell, what is their name? All data-points with no clear answer. Indicators of their bodily health blipped red at this 'missing arm' fact. Gazing upon it, the socket was torn clean off. The cut wires dirty from what must've been a long while exposed to the elements. Perhaps they had been resting in this sand for a long while, after their arm was torn apart?

A mysterious red X dotted their rusted chest, their black coat of paint that dotted their body sparkled with rust throughout. For some reason, this X was... a focal point. Their memory banks fixated on it's origins, the meaning. With a lack of name, the skeleton decided to denote itself behind this X, as well; X. Old memory, not erased noted the meaning behind the symbol of an X; typically used in 'canceling' or, 'marking' something. What was X, marked for?

X, using their only arm, pushed themselves up. Sand dripping off of them. They were unsure, where to go. They decided to head to their right, seeing as their only good arm was on that side of their body. They listened to the gentle sounds of their feet pressing against the ground as they walked. It was, 'satisfying.'
X heard sand shuffling behind them. Four big creatures, striding along four legs were hustling towards them. They needed no prior knowledge of this creature to understand the feeling of,

Danger.

X took off in a jog. Their body squeaking and groaning. This was perhaps the greatest their body had ever had to work in how-ever-long it was they were nested there in the sand. A structure of some kind was visible, cresting over the horizon of a sand-dune.

Safety?

X had to make it there. Structured buildings symbolized a town - a construction of civilization. X's strong, thick legs appeared to be the best part about them. They worked in perfect parallel to one another.

Left. Right. Left. Right. Left. Right.

The creatures behind them were falling behind. A dust-cloud swept over them, blinding them for about five seconds. Upon it drifting over, X gazed behind once more. The creatures had given up, sauntering off elsewhere. X maintained their pace.

Left. Right. Left. Right. Left. Right.

Upon cresting a dune, X found themselves awe-struck. Walls. A rusted, rustic windmill working away in those walls. Towers nestled in the walls, for guards more than likely. All definitions and ideas came from their storage. Information that hasn't been called upon for some time.

Civilization! X rejoiced inwards. They would need to learn the name of this place, to further define in their memory. X began to walk once more, a desire to relax after being chased sweeping over them. Dust clouds constantly swept into, and then out of view.

After one such cloud, a roving band of armed men came into view.

Not dangerous. They were walking away, possibly town-guards on a patrol. X took a cautious look behind themselves, the creatures were long gone. Behind the guards came a long line of men, following behind a dark-skinned man in a rustic redshirt. They ignored the sight of X entirely, despite X offering up a 'wave.' Suddenly, X heard men groaning and screaming to their left - the direction the guards were marching. Sights of battle. The guards had engaged someone, a sign that X needed to get inside this civilization quickly. X decided to pick up the pace, jogging once more. Once X reached the outskirts of the walls, they jogged underneath the shade that the tall walls provided. The walls were metallic, rust in some spots, yet reassuring. They were imposing. X ran a finger along the wall as they ran, listening to their metal interacting with the metal of the wall - a nice sound to them. By following the wall, logically they would eventually run into the 'gate,' an entrance into the civilization.

Occasionally the flow of the wall was broken up by buildings, placed tactically into the wall to act as part of it. Upon turning a corner, X found what they were looking for.

The entrance.

People occasionally streamed out of it. A large beast followed a man with a backpack away from the gate - a beast similar to those they saw along with the dark-skinned man's party from earlier. As X ascended the steps into the city, a large party of armed guards walked past them. X felt like they towered over them all - yet not one gave way for them. They bumped and bristled past without a single, "hello." A group of men stood outside, guarding the entrance. One approached them, gazing up at the clueless skeleton.

"Cause no trouble, metal-boy." The man muttered. Despite the size difference, this man had the looks to easily dispatch the much taller X.

"What is this civilization?" X muttered their first words in a long while. Somehow, they shared the innate, same language as the guard. A lucky data-point to retain.

"You mean a town?" The man laughed at the unique use of language. "Sho-Battai. Cause no trouble. Else you'll be seein' me again, lookin' down atcha."

The name of the town rolled off the man's tongue beautifully. Obviously a native to it.

"S-sho..Battai. I will be cautious." X struggled to pronounce it in a similar fashion. The man didn't react.

"Keep it movin', this ain't the bar."

X moved past the guards, walking into Sho-Battai. They saw many buildings, in different shapes and sizes. Homogeny only existed in the type of material used. Creeping up above a nearby building was the sight of the wind they had seen earlier. It was, 'beautiful' to them. To the far right, nestled against a corner of the town wall was a large round-building with a large, rusty sign next to the doorway into it, that read 'BAR.'

X felt drawn towards it, as the guard had mentioned it. Perhaps it was 'curiosity,' or a hope that this was a good general place to find help. Walking up the steps into the bar they heard the loud sounds from within. Jeering, shouting, yet no sounds of such physical violence they had heard just before reaching the walls. X hoped for the best.

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