Mana Et Mecha: The Roleplay (Part One)

Introduction
A mirage.

It had to be.

What were the odds?

There was no way this idyllic town, an enclosed utopia amidst a sea of sand and dry despair, could be real.

It was not perfect: the city was built up from arid sandstone, seemingly driven on the unpaid labor of haggardly slaves worked to the bone from the most difficult jobs; the only water really in sight could be found at a couple of well sites at the four corners of the settlement, one in the center, and they were crowded as thirsty citizens pined for their daily water rations; crime ran rampant, in dark alleys or broad daylight; poverty was well-known and widespread...

... But to the three weary travelers entering the city at its gates, clamoring for any sort of food or drink, rationed or otherwise, this was a paradise. They had not seen civilization for the past week and were obviously not from around these parts. Two of them were extremely light-skinned, at least in comparison to everyone else around them. The third was decently tanned but still stuck out like a sore thumb against the natives that were three times darker. Their clothes, neatly pressed and ironed and cleaned, were not accustomed to the dirt and grime so pervasive and present on the citizens' and slaves' drab shauls. As they moved slowly through the crowds of people hustling and bustling in their daily activities, they caught the attention of many. Who were these people, the people of the city wondered? What is their purpose here? They were not hostile, simply curious. The people of this city were not used to having visitors from foreign lands and wished to accommodate them better.

The only thing that unified these two scarcely different groups, the light and the dark, the prim and the poor, was their gifts given from birth. It was magic.

Not in the classical sense of magic in witchcraft and wizardry, although that was present in these parts. What is considered magical here is the ability to be in tune with nature and the souls of the earth and its natural elements, and to be able to manipulate them in a way that was beneficial to the survival of humanity. The mages of the city used fire magic to cook their food, or earth magic to move large rocks to and from places, or even astral magic to bend fate in their favor.

What was most surprising and surreal to these travelers was that in this city, using magic was commonplace and public. Where they were from, it was a religious sin and illegal act to use magic in public. But they could not say where they were from. Not now...

... At least, not the leader of this group of nomads. He was the biggest, tallest one. He seemed to be barely in his twenties, and barely keeping his composure around his other traveling partners. A heavy ruby red coat wrapped around his hips suggested he originated from a far colder place, certainly not the desert of a place he was in. Sweat dripped from his ink black locks and passed over his watchful, shifty gray eyes, which squinted from the sunlight, and from the displeasure of dealing with his companions. He stared intently at a map, as if he was following a destination marked on it. One could not tell what he was thinking just by looking at his face.

The other two were mysteries as well. The first of them was a young girl, who looked to be half of the leader's height, and half his age. Puffy pants and light slippers suggested she was some sort of gymnast, but the news cap containing her mess of auburn hair suggested otherwise. She had a cheeky grin on her face as she conversed with the last member, the darkest of the three. He had flashy, somewhat satin orange attire. He looked to be in show business of some sort with his fanciful get-up. Makeup from under his eye dripped down his cheeks from the heat, and for whatever reason, his wrists were cuffed.

They walked quietly and kept to themselves. The girl gazed into the eyes of the citizens she passed, wishing desperately to talk to someone new, but she knew how her leader felt about conversing with strangers, especially in the rare occasions that they came across new towns.

The city street they were walking down was lively at first but as they passed, the activity died down for these strangers to pass. The girl surveyed their surroundings. The buildings were simple, in basic block shapes with no glass windows, only holes. Sun reflected against the beige-white colors of these walls, and the bright blue sky of noontime contrasted sharply with the structures, blinding the trio. On the city streets, vendors bartering over fresh and pickled produce stopped and gawked at the visitors. Children playing games paused to stare, and concerned mothers approached their kids' sides to protect them, just in case. The young girl was unsure whether this reaction was common for every new person that passed through the city or if they were an exception.

Finally, the leader halted to a stop, and the other two followed suit. The girl stared up at where they were now. They had approached one of the average-looking buildings, although it was taller than most of the rest, and seemed to be in a better-off part of the street with larger houses and exterior designs on the walls and decorations at the fronts. One small room was at the top of the flat building, giving what she guessed to be a great view of the rest of the city. The place was so tall that it obstructed the sun and cast a dark shadow over the three. She grew hesitant, and slightly intimidated. Her eyes darted to the tall man with the red coat around his waist, wondering what their purpose for being here was.

The leader turned around to face the darker man, and smirked, almost haughtily. He jerked a thumb to the door of the building and chuckled, as if he was the bringer of bad news. "It's over for you, my friend," he said in a deep voice flavored with undertones of self-satisfaction. "Your journey with us comes to an abrupt halt, and end."

The girl, confused, tilted her head. "What do you mean?" she questioned, curiously and now worriedly. Her voice was soft with fear.

The leader didn't answer. He instead looked to the man in orange, an eyebrow arched and a gloating smile. The other man frowned, and rolled his brown eyes. "Stroke your ego all you want by teasing me before you hand me off," he said, his voice a little higher-pitched than the leader's but far more musical and airy, "but I feel no remorse for what I've done. I've made my choice and I regret nothing. But I pity you, your narrow-mindedness and your stifling, oppressive city. I'd rather be a slave to a man in a free land than a free man in a land plagued with oppression and hate. Don't you feel anything for what I say and mean to do? You use magic as well. What makes what I've done traitorous but what you do 'for the good of the city?'"

"You've given your last oration, performer boy," the leader taunted. He turned towards the door. "You acted out knowing the consequences. I have permission to use magic in accordance with the city's administrative edicts and allowances. You do not. And now, because of your violations to the city and religious code, you'll face those consequences."

The young girl was frightened by the language she was hearing. She had not the faintest idea of what was going on, or why the leader she had followed for so long now spoke with harsh tongue. But she was more fearful for her friend, the darker man, and what fate beyond that door he would face. It did not sound like anything she would wish even upon her worst enemy.

She could do nothing. The leader sauntered towards the building's door, and with quick movements he knocked on it, stepped back, and eagerly looked to the man in cuffs to see his reaction for what laid on the other side. The girl winced as she anticipated the door would open at any moment...