The automatic translate feature that seems to come into play in every novel exists for a reason. When Thomas stopped talking to Narrator, it was day out; the light made the cell all the more inviting. A guard was standing outside his cell, looking at him with derision.
"Praesent quam augue in finibus? Sodales eu, dictum eget lacu," the guard barked at Thomas.
Fuck. What the hell did he say?
Sadly, he had no way of knowing. Just like everything else, he was completely in the dark. There were plenty of cues that could clue him in on the guard's intent: the look in the eyes, a noticeably sharp tone, the way he used his hands while he spoke.
The guard slightly gestured with his hands toward him. He had a pause in his words, most likely meaning the guard made two statements. But he had no reference for the words.
The guard opened the cell door, so he walked out with the guard behind him. He wasn't wearing armor of any kind, and the only thing cluing him in on his position was the cell and the sword around his waist.
He was escorted out of the jail, and luckily for him, it was a small one. There were only three cells, and the other two were empty. Judging by the size of the jail, he figured he was in a small village—probably no more than 600 or so residents—which could be crucial for his early survival. If he was in a city he would probably die within a week.
The guard gave him his belongings on the way out, if you could call them that. All he got was a small coin purse that could be attached to his belt, with only five coins inside. They were incredibly well-manufactured for the time period—ridges on the edges that were made with precision, and an insignia of a sword in the middle. Taking a few seconds to admire a few coins earned him a strange look from the guard.
"What can you do when you don't know a single thing about a new world?" Thomas shrugged and spoke to the guard,
"You guys have standardized currency, but not even basic plumbing, huh?"
The poor guard's body language was becoming less condescending and more fearful.
"Adhua in denae o le?" the guard replied, clearly confused.
"Ah, no matter, my good man. I'll do my best to make sure you enjoy toilets eventually." Thomas patted the guard on the shoulder, gave him a look that combined pity and hope, and left without another word or glance.
What welcomed Thomas outside was a sight much worse than he was picturing. What should have been a fantastical land was a poor and decrepit slum. The building next to the jail was a stable, full of people in shackles. They had clothes covered in dust, and their bodies didn't fare any better. Pale-skinned faces, but their bodies were covered so heavily in dust that they appeared gray.
So this was the world I have to survive. Not necromancers, or knights, or wizards.
Homes made of rubble surrounded him, slapped together with careless mortar that left them looking ready to collapse. The streets were muddy and uneven. The few people he saw were malnourished, despair etched into every face.
Worst of all it was placed in a valley. It was still dark even though the sun was undoubtably above the horizon. A large wall was blocking the sun.
Thomas quickly walked away from the slums towards the wall. Luckily, it appeared that the slums were not too large. Estimating from the number of dwellings, he guessed there were maybe 100 residents in the slums, and roughly 20 slaves back at the jail.
That means this place is actually probably a lot bigger, that might have been the jail for just the slums.
I guess it could be worse. Somehow.
The end of the slums was marked by a large wall, somewhere around 40 feet tall. There was a single door in the wall that the roads ultimately led to. In front of it stood a pair of guards in light leather armor, each bearing the insignia of a crossed pickaxe and sword.
It got worse somehow, I have to talk to people.
Thomas tightened up his clothes a little and brushed a few pieces of hay off his shirt. His clothes at least didn't look as dirty as the rest of the people here, marginally. It was time to put his high school acting class to use. He relaxed his face as much as he could and did his best to look like an idiot.
He walked up to the guards with confidence and pointed at the doors. The two guards glanced at each other, said something, and then one turned to him and spoke, "Woan Uom Pter." After pausing for a second, Thomas growled in reply, "Pineapple."
The guard repeated what he said before, and Thomas did too. It was hard to tell what was going through his head as a man came up to him speaking in gibberish. This went on for three minutes; every time the guard repeated himself, a deeper shade of red dyed his face.
Finally, with a yell of exasperation, the guard grabbed his coin purse off his belt. He hastily ripped out three of his coins and threw it back. Then, with a shove, Thomas found himself within the proper village.
Strangely enough, I think that was the easiest conversation of my life.
The muddy streets didn't continue, now replaced by a smooth cobblestone road. The buildings around him were made of smooth stone slabs that caught the sun in such a way that made the town glow with radiant light. Far ahead, he could see the other side of the village wall, where there was a gate currently letting in carriages. As the sun rose higher, the city began to stir.
Quickly, the lifeless stalls that lined the sides of the road were being revived by the sun. The visitors in carriages were being harassed with offers. The stalls varied—food, gems, metals, and tools. A few visitors would break off occasionally to stop at a store, and with a quick conversation, they shook hands and traded coin for goods. Their handshakes differed slightly, with each party grabbing the other's forearm.
Thomas walked down the road at a slow pace, taking in every sight and sound. Eventually, the area around him started to churn to life as well—not with vendors, but with men and women with pale skin gathering around four carts. They would talk to the stagecoach, he would scribble on a piece of parchment, and then person would enter the cart. Each cart quickly filling with ten people, some weren't entirely full, and as quickly as they gathered they set off.
I don't understand any of it, and it fucking sucks.
Was that work? Maybe they are doing experiments on the desperate, that would be juicy.
Ugh, I can't stand this. I just want to understand what is happening. I really don't feel like that's a big ask from the guy who got kidnapped.
But he didn't understand anything, and now he had only two coins to his name. It could possibly not even last him a day. He didn't know how to earn money, he didn't know how to buy food, and he would die outside the city.
Okay lets do this I guess
Buy food because I'm actually super hungry. Do charades with random people to learn the language. Get a job so that I don't starve.