THE VILLAGE

The village itself was surrounded on three sides by a defensive wall with earthworks. There were places it had been damaged and gouged, but the newly crafted repairs left me feeling it was utilitarian rather than decorative. The predominant aspect of the village presented itself as a sweeping backdrop and acted as the fourth wall. It was, of course, an enormous mountain that from the view I had, appeared to be a volcano. The clouds around the peak obscured any direct confirmation of its volcanic possibilities, but it appeared as if there were even dwellings built up against the mountainside. Obviously they weren’t worried about an imminent eruption.

As we passed through the gate, guards waved us forward. It was all very normal for them, but for me, I was getting a glimpse into a new world, a new place with strange customs. I still had to figure out exactly what I had gotten myself into.

Then we passed through the village, and life went on. We hardly attracted any interest at all, although I did receive a few startled looks as they noticed my difference. Mostly the Gnome townsfolk were hustling and bustling in their everyday lives. It was the first time I got a glimpse at their womenfolk and children too. The kids were just younger, slightly plumper versions of the emaciated parents. There were other races too, not just the Gnomes and Dwarves. Larger folk walked amongst them. Some, almost doglike in appearance. Others more closely resembling a lizard.

Some of the houses and buildings were diminutive, meaning I would struggle to walk upright within them. If I squatted I could probably get around awkwardly. I really hoped that my new accommodations would be a bit more on the spacious side.

The wagon ambled on as we passed an Inn, smoke drifting sedately from its twin chimney stacks, the quaint cottage windows crowded with onlookers and jovial patrons, its doorway at least was of a height that I could easily navigate.

A market soon followed, where jostling crowds clamoured to various stalls for food and produce amongst other things. They ranged from a butcher to a baker and everything in between (I didn’t notice a candlestick maker, but I’m sure there was one too).

A robust looking smithy with a bellowing forge sang out the song I most expected to hear from a blacksmith. The tink-tink ping as the hammer met the anvil in that rhythmic cadence made me shake my head in wonder. The Smith was obviously Dwarven, although his apprentice looked like some kind of lizard man. We didn’t go close enough for my Identify to work on what or who he was.

We passed a town hall, a couple of noble gnomes looking all superior stopped whatever they were doing to watch us go past. Some gestured excitedly, while others shook their heads in disapproval. Each major building I looked at caused my Identify ability to throw up a notify message and I was surprised to see that each building besides being identified, was also given a level. It was really like I was living inside a computer game. One of those civilization games that I cluttered my cell phone with. Except here I was living the dream. A slave up to my eyeballs in trouble.

I had to believe I could get myself out of this mess and back to some place familiar. My original goal had been to get to Illuminous, the planet that the Elves lived on. I had some ‘bizniz’ with the Elf King to sort out on the way. Besides that, I was kinda hoping I could go back to Earth and see how far this new body could take me. That being said, there were no Gnomes or Dwarves on Earth, no Elves or Orcs. Sure there were some Lizardmen, but that all depended on which politician you were looking at. Jokes aside, it might be a huge disappointment to go back after being exposed to all this. The most likely thing to happen if I went back to Earth would be my incarceration into a mental institution. Aah, what the hell. I had always been a man of action. Someone people could rely on. I would bring my positive side to the table and see if things could work out in my favour. Time to put my best foot forward. Literally.

The wagon halted at the far end of the village. A buttress towered up with various entrance ways into the mountainside. I finally closed my mouth. My gaping the whole time had given me lots to look at but not a whole lot of productivity went on besides the taste of the dust that had been stirred up by the wagon. I was still just reacting to what happened to me, and not planning, not making the right things happen. I chided myself and waited for my turn to be unloaded.

This time the Scalar were taken out first. Shackled together and then led off to what I assumed were slave quarters in the mountainside. A large entrance with man-sized dimensions swallowed them as they rattled along sedately. I was encouraged out shortly after that and finally my new owner came to stand before me.

Title: Elderman

Species: Gnome

Level 90

I blinked at the level. It was the highest level I had seen so far, but the guy didn’t look like much besides a wizened old politician weaned off crack. Perhaps the only difference was that he had all his teeth. He paced around me, looking me up and down. The four Dwarven guards surrounded us both and were all ready to pounce at a moment's notice, spears held ready. I didn’t want to get off to a bad start so I just stood there and let events unfold.

“What is your name, young warrior?” The Elderman asked.

He spoke in Scalar, and I had no trouble understanding him. He probably assumed I was some kind of mutated Scalar with aggression problems.

“You may call me Petros Tongue Taker” I replied sagely. Using Dwarven to reply. The Dwarves suddenly all hissed at me, stepping forward aggressively and I realized my mistake far too late.

That was why they were all mute. They had no tongues.

Artoo the Elderman smiled incredulously and using his hand indicated that the Dwarves should hold their positions. “You are an enigma, strange warrior. You goad my guards and yet it is their kind grace that will ensure you prosper in the days to come. Why do you mock when you should instead grovel? Are you really a Disciple of Avihs? We see so few of you these days. I owned the last one we caught and he died as any of you do. Do not think you are protected here.”

His eyes watched me intently as he asked his probing question. He was using the Gnome language now, but I had picked up enough of it to be fairly fluent thanks to my Lucid language skill. I decided to be contrite. If what he said was true, I had just made my life here a whole lot more difficult. While I had intended to appear large and in charge, instead I had spat in the eye of the ones who would take care of me. I had to do something to lessen that slight. The Gnome knew it too, and he was giving me this chance.

So many conversations were going on, and yet we were hardly saying anything. I was going to have to be careful here. This Gnome, as tall as my belt buckle, was as smart as they come and I was definitely in over my head, not the other way around.

“Forgive me Mr Artoo, I am a stranger to these lands. Tongue Taker is indeed one of my titles, and I meant no offence to anyone. I have lived with Orcs and they bestowed the title after an episode with their Champion.” I looked at the Dwarves, each in turn and nodded my head reverently. “I am not proud of what it implies, I am however proud that the Leader of the Orcs gave it to me as a title of acknowledgment. In fact the circumstances make for a jovial tale that caused much mirth. I meant no slight to you or your Silent Dwarven Guards.” Damn, I was getting good at this lord and ladies talk. Definitely been hanging around too many of them lately.

This seemed to mollify the Dwarves who as one, relaxed their aggressive postures slightly. I heaved a deep breath. Lucky save! I thought, but one thing is for sure, if they didn’t care about me before, I had now made an impression. One they would not soon forget.

“Perhaps one day you will regale upon me this episode? We don’t often hear of the Orcs and their ilk. When and where did you meet them?”

His question was innocent, calm, almost nonchalant. I knew immediately I had piqued his interest and so I kept the banter light. I was finally back in control of my life, of my emotions and soon I would have all of my abilities at my disposal. I needed to keep him interested.

“Well I am new to this land and had the misfortune to be captured by your hunters. May I ask why you have purchased me? To what end am I fated to perform?”

The whip appeared in his hand before I could even blink. The end whipped out and wrapped around my neck before I could even flinch. The sting of it only started to rush through me as I stumbled back, hands flailing up to grasp it. This of course tightened it, constricting my airway and causing a “GAAAhak” noise to erupt from my mouth.

I went down on my knees, desperately trying to release the coiled whip throttling me. It was magical in nature and burned my hands as I gripped its length. My eyes popping and head swimming in giddiness. I felt the handle of the whip tap me unpleasantly on the forehead. I stopped my struggles and looked up. The Gnome now at eye level was close to me. His eyes bored into me.

“Never ask me questions.” His voice was calm, polite but laced with steel. “Never address me with familiarity.” he pressed his sandal against my chest, I could see he even had rings on his toes. With a deft flick he unwrapped the whip while kicking me back onto the sand. “And never speak out of turn lest you become a Tongue Taker without a tongue yourself!”

“Take him away, and prepare him.” Artoo spoke to his minions who knew the drill and each grabbing a limb, hauled me to where the other Scalar had been taken. I wanted to fight back, to do something to defend myself, but instead I took the kick, and let the Dwarves carry me along.

“Bide your time!”

This had been the prompt that popped up in my vision. My internal system was aware of things that I was not and I would be better served finding out more, rather than blindly fighting everything that came my way.

Who knew? I could learn.