You are standing by a tree
There are 3 paths.
One appears to go to a jungle,
one appears to go to a cave,
one appears to go to a beach,
you could try and climb the tree,
there is a nearby shop you could go in,
or you could do something else.
So what's its going to be?
Written by catprog on 01 April 2003
Climb the tree
You climb up the tree and sit on the branch.
The first sign that something is wrong is when your skin becomes itchy. You scratch at it but it feels different. You look and notice the feathers growing on your skin.
When you're completely covered in feathers, the next changes start. This time your mouth and nose stretch out to form a beak. By the time that the beak is finished your head has completely changed into a bird head.
Soon the changes are complete and you are now a bird. You look in amazement at your new sense of vision.
Written by catprog on 01 April 2003
Whodunnit?
You preen yourself experimentally as the sky fades linty grey and cool rain patters through the tree's waxy leaves.
Questions fall as thickly as the droplets of cold water.
Where are you? Where will you go now that you're avian? What exactly just happened here? As far as you can recall, you ate dinner last night, went to sleep, and woke up standing by this bloody tree. You didn't come here by yourself, so you must have been brought. Why bring you here, then? Was someone using you for a pawn, a tool of amusement? ...Or did you know something that someone wanted to keep secret, something someone who knew that animals couldn't talk wanted quiet, someone driven up against a wall, where abduction and subsequent bodily alteration was the only solution?
What did you know that someone didn't want you to know?
The answers are sparse as sunshine. You know your old neighbor goes through your trash sometimes looking for contraband--he's paranoid; maybe he came across some reality-warping item and had you at the top of his "get-rid-of" list. You ratted out some fellow employees for stealing ice cream some years ago, anonymously of course, but what if they found out your name, found someone to hex you, remove you from the workforce? Apart from that, you don't know many secrets at all.
...Or is it that you're being kept from knowing?
One thing's for sure: if you're wanting to get to the bottom of this, it's time to start gathering clues.
Written by Mr.Peaches on 05 January 2007
The Fall
Well, since you are a bird, you might as well try to go on your quest for answers by flight. It's not
like you have anything else to do, don't you?
You spread your wings for a quick test. A gentle breeze passes though your feathers. You feel that
this is a good idea. You breathe in slowly and close your eyes to give yourself courage. It can't be
that hard, can't it? Birds – real birds that is, not humans changed into birds – do this all the time. No
worries, right?
Right?
You jump of the branch, your wings spread wide. You fell gravity pull you down and your stomach
climbs into your throat. And before you know it, you are flapping your wings uncontrollably, trying
to start flying… but you can't. Gravity pulls you down.
You crash though a branch that cushions your fall before hitting the ground. You feel a sharp pain
climb up your right wing and cry out in pain. You roll over into the grass and lay on your back,
unable to even move from how much it hurts… but apart from what was once your arm it seems
that you are intact. Great work, Sherlock. Now what
Written by Clayem on 16 March 2016
The Convenient Savior
Wait, screaming? Now? You're not in shape!
You take a moment to slowly breath in. Tears pool in the corner of your bird eye but there is no way
you'll cry. You don't dare looking at your broken limb either, you know it will be slightly bent and
starting to get purple and swollen (and you really don't want to see that).
You can't hold the pain in anymore and you know it. You start screaming incoherently, playing that
someone would come and save you. Do they even speak proper English around here?
Luckily for you, everyone understand pain, for a few moments later someone is standing over you.
They seem human enough… The only thing is that you can't tell if they are male of female. Big
purple eyes stare back at you in a juvenile face that could be the one of a girl, but the chest is flat
and the hips have a gentle curve to them. They stand under a large, bright lila umbrella that also
protects you from the rain and they are wearing an old fashioned robe that isn't without reminding
you of what a magician would be wearing. You stop screaming and ask in a croaking voice:
“Please! Please, help me, I fell and I think I broke my arm!”
Or so is your intention, because you end up babbling the whole things and the tears you have been
fighting back stream down your face and into the grass, drowning your own words in sobs.
The newcomer frown and tuck a strand of black hair behind their ear. “Oh my,” they comment in,
thanks to any divine force that rocks your boat, understandable English. They kneel next to you in
the grass. “Are you okay? That looks like it is hurts.”
No, really? Thanks, captain Obvious.
“Please help,” you reply. Explanations can wait for when don't have a wing that hurts so bad it
makes you cry like some big baby.
Your new savior nods, bends over your wounded limb and blows on it lightly. You suddenly feel
cold and lose all sensation in it. Your head shots to the right and you gape as your wound slowly
disappears, surrounded by a purple light. It completely vanishes after a while and sensation comes
back in your wing, that you lift and shake with no more pain then a light strand.
You already observed a supernatural event – hence the beak and feathers – but real but purple
healing magic is something to behold. You stare up in amazement at the passerby, that laughs.
“Aren't you the adorable one,” they say and you notice a strange sizzling accent. “Why don't you
tell me your name?
Written by Clayem on 17 March 2016
Under the Umbrella
You sit up and open your mouth, but nothing comes to your mind. Oops, seems like you have
forgotten your name. Somehow, that makes you uneasy. If you forgot your name… What else could
you have forgotten? Maybe the precious truth whoever got you here didn't want you to know.
Maybe the way you got here. You make a test.
… Yup, last night, you ate spaghetti and tomato sauce, with a large piece of chocolate as a dessert.
Is it a good sign when you can remember these sort of details but not your name? Does it meant that
it has been deliberately erased from your memories?
The eyes of your savior sparkles in the shade of their large umbrella. Seriously thought, this thing is
like a flying saucer it's so huge. Turn it around and fill it with water and you got your own basin to
raise barracudas.
“Oh, so it's you…” they mysteriously reply. They stand up and lend you a hand. You discover that,
despite the kid's face, they are quite tall and you stand with ease under the umbrella. “I have been
coming to get you. Sorry I was a little late, I forgot it was today… if I would have been on time
none of this would have happened, I’m sorry.”
“What?” Your head shot up. “You were waiting for me?”
“Why of course. Come along, I got a warm bed and a meal waiting for you at home.”
Written by Clayem on 18 March 2016
Of course! A chipmunk!
You smile brightly and nod, which makes them laugh. They turn around and lead the way. You are
careful to follow then closely so that you don't get rained on. It occurs to you that you don't know
their name, and that it may be an indication to their elusive gender. You ask them.
“My name? You can call me Blurred.”
Is that some sort of joke? To be blurred, their gender is definitely blurred. You don't dare ask them
directly what they are, afraid to appear rude towards the person who just mended your broken arm.
It's not like it's that important anyway, is it?
Instead, you ask them if they know why you are here.
They suddenly stopped and faced you, swinging their umbrella over their shoulder so that they stay
protected but you get soaked. You raise your eyes to their face with stupor and find them narrowed,
the purple of them pooling between their thick dark lashes as if they were going to strike you with
an angry lightning bolt any moment. And yet, they still have a smile on their lips.
“Aren't you a curious little chipmunk?” They ask with a tone that says 'be careful what you ask
about'.
“I…” you try to reply, but you run out of ideas.
Their eyes become normal again and their smile become wider. “Of course! A chipmunk!”
“What–”
But before you can ask of even protest, they poked you on the beak and you suddenly shrink.
Feathers change into fur, beak into pink nose, and seconds after, you are the most adorable little
thing sitting on the pavement. You don't think it's fair, but the only sounds of protest you can make
seem to enchant Blurred. They crouch next to you with a huge smile.
“Oh, look at you squeal! Do you know you are the cutest thing in a ten miles radius?” They pick
you up from the skin of the neck and bring you up to their face. From this angle, they look like a
giant that could eat you in one bite.
And let's not glance down quite yet, shall we? Your new paws paddle in the emptiness as the only
thing preventing you from falling and breaking, this time, every single bone in your little body is
the pair of fingers that are pinching rather painfully right above your shoulders. You soon grow still
and hope they will not let you go or even think about it.
“There, so much better. Let us go home now, shall we?” They chuckle at your predicament and get
up. You are now suspended in the air at a distance that it equal, now that you are small, to a seven
store building.
A glance downwards only emphasize how you do not desire to be dropped. Your dismay must be
visible on your face, for he starts laughing.
“Oh, don't worry, I'll take very good care of you...”
He lays you on his shoulder and start walking again. You lock your claws in the fabric of his clothes,
very keen on keeping yourself alive, and close your eyes. Now would be a good moment to start
praying if you have anything to pray too.
Written by Clayem on 19 March 2016
Skippy
Never had a simple walk been so terrifying in your life, but when Blurred lays you on the table of
his kitchen, the world seems like a brighter and better place to be: you're alive. You're well. You
breathe slowly as the magician – because he obviously is one – walks though the room. He waves
his hand a little which makes pots and tools move around in the room before he sits down at the
table and smile down at you. You can't help but notice there is something of a cat that caught a
mouse in his smug expression. You don't like that one bit.
You scurry through the table in search of a hiding place, hopefully taking Blurred by surprise. As
you reach the far end you hear a chair rattle against the floor as they get up and, in fear, you jump
off the table and on a chair. Luckily you land without damage… but you don't manage to get very
far as two large hands scoot you up and hold you to their face.
“Oh, why the rush?” They offer you a large smile. “I was only going to give you a new name. But
since you seem so keen to run away… How about Skippy?”
That is a ridiculous name. You try to protest, but you only make the most adorable squeals.
“Skippy it is, then! Now stay quiet and I will give you a bigger form.”
They lay you once more on the table and goes back to whatever they had been plotting to make for
dinner. You sit there and wonder what is they are planning to change you into next. Whatever it is,
you hope you will soon be able to ask a few questions.
After a while, he lay two smoking plates on the table, one large one, and one smaller one filled with
bits of meat in front of you. Apparently, they are planning to change you into some sort of small
carnivore…
“You'll see, Skippy, you are going to love it. I planned this appearance just for you.”
He snapped his fingers and purple tendrils surround you for nowhere. You feel yourself being lifted
in the air…
Written by Clayem on 20 March 2016
Flying Feline
Your bones grow and your flesh stretch, but you feel nothing but a distant tugging as your body
transforms once more. You don't even notice you have wings until they flop at your side. Wait, that
makes four legs and wings – again stupid wings?
“And don't break them this time, all right?” Blurred hums at you.
You try to ask them a question, but you only manage to meow. In annoyance, you flatten your ears
and hiss. What is the point of being a winged cat changed by a magician if you can't even talk?
“Oh, but I thought you would like this shape,” they continue. Their tone tries to sound annoyed but
hardly make an effort. It seems that everything you do amuses them immensely. “Since you were a
bird when I found you I thought you liked flying. I put a lot of thought into it, you know? Well, it's
not like you have a choice. After all, you are my pet.”
Written by Clayem on 21 March 2016
Life Isn
Their pet? You tilt your head to the side and give him a cat frown, but they ignore the questions in
your eyes and push the smaller plate towards you.
“Why don't you eat while it is still warm, my little Skippy? It's better like that.”
You frown at the nickname – because it can't be your real name, whatever your real name is – but
you are hungry… so you bend forward and start eating. The meat is delicious, and with your new
heightened sense of smell you discover a taste to it that you would have never suspected. You end
up purring happily.
Maybe being a pet wouldn't be that bad after all. Blurred seems to be the one that has an answer to
your questions and he is bound to give you one day an appearance with speech, right? Even if he
doesn't look like he wants to tell you right away what he is up to… and that his behavior is highly
suspicious… it can't be that bad, right?
Written by Clayem on 22 March 2016
The Incident
Blurred is what you would call a wealthy person. Whether they are a man or a woman is still to be
determined but as time passes by you realize that you tend to care less and less about that detail.
Their house is huge and giving you anything you want would be ridiculously easy… if you could
talk. They have taken a liking to petting your soft white fur and doesn't look like they want you to
take any other form.
But the main advantage to your predicament would be that you had all the time in the world to learn
to fly, and so you did. Beating your wings and rising over everything is an addictive feeling and you
love it. You happily fly around as your master takes care of his clients and prepares his spells in the
laboratory. In the evening, you enjoy a rest on his lap as he reads a book in front of the fire.
Until the day you catch a bird.
It is a normal bird, of so you assume, meaning that it didn't look like the types that were spitting fire
or the type that changed into a scorpion you had already encountered around here. You observe it
from afar at first, fascinated by its small, quick moves, and out of mere curiosity you slowly
approach it.
You suddenly want to catch. Seeing it peck the seeds in the grass and flutter right and left calls to
something in you that you can't quite control. You try to resist… but before you know it, your sharp
teeth close on the frail neck and something snap.
You freeze with your dead prey in the mouth as the realization of what you have done slowly sink
in. You killed. You, the one that would always protest when your mother would go on a fly
swatting frenzy, the one that had wanted a pet since age dot, the one that wanted to be a zoo keeper
when you were small, killed a bird.
On purpose.
Guilt fills you
Written by Clayem on 23 March 2016
Spotted
You choose a spot in the huge backyard of the magician and you start digging. It's harder then what
you had thought: the earth is firm and your paws are soft a squishy, unused to the great outdoor life.
You are a luxurious apartment cat for rich people only, not a wild salvage!
Yet you just killed like one.
Suddenly Blurred is near you. You didn't hear them coming and you jump at least a foot in the air at
his sudden apparition. He crouches and frowns at the hole in his otherwise perfect lawn.
“What are you doing, Skippy?” There is a slight anger in his voice, but nothing he can't control.
You are scared. You have never seen him this annoyed before… and yet when they see the bird,
their face clears and their usual smile comes back. “Oh, I see what it is about… You were trying to
hide it? Let me see.”
Blurred takes the small corpse and their long fingers soon uncover the wound at the neck where
your teeth pierced the skin. They nod in approval, and suddenly you are unsure of what to expect.
“I see… You were afraid that I was going to be mad at you, were you? That's why you were hiding
it?”
Written by Clayem on 24 March 2016
The
Actually, you were more doing this to give the poor thing a proper burial but you slowly nod. For
some reason, that makes Blurred laugh.
“Oh, I was enjoying your cat form so much that I actually forgot why I bought you in the first place.”
What? You were bought? Who sold you? You had assumed that somehow Blurred had been
expecting you and had jumped on the occasion to turn you into a pet, but now you are starting to
wonder if you had been abducted during your sleep as some part of illegal traffic. It would explain
your missing name: they would have erased it so it would be harder to go back to your old life.
As you ponder these new possibilities, he suddenly picks you up, holds you firmly in his arms and
walks towards the house. You have a bad feeling about this and meow softly so that they let you
down but they ignore you. However, despite the premonition, you trust him and you don’t struggle.
You have been living with them for several days and you even started to like their weird ways.
Glad that you are being calm about this, they smile down to you… and you see something in their
eyes that give you a cold chill.
They bring you to your room. They gave it to you on your first day here and you have been sleeping
on the pillow in a neat little ball in the middle of a huge human-size length of sheets. As Blurred
was pretty rich, you had assumed that they were only being a little eccentric and would give you a
full double bed, completed with room, to you, even if you are a cat.
They lay you on it and sits next to you, their smile not leaving their face and their eyes still having
this worrying glint to them.
They suddenly snap their fingers and you feel yourself starting to change. You grow considerably in
size, all your fur disappears, replaced by reddish scales, your wings change from feathery to
leathery and you tail grows into a snake-like appendage. You even grow small, straight horn on the
top of your head. Moments later, you are what appears a human-shaped dragon and spread on the
sheets. You look up at Blurred with questions in your eyes.
Somehow, you really, really don’t like where this is heading.
You voice feels a little raspy, since it is the very first time you talk in weeks. You start a questions,
pause in the middle, clear your throat and try again.
“What is happening?”
He laughs, something you heard him do quite often these last days, something you got used to. Well,
surprise! You didn’t know this laugh. It is different from their amused, slightly mocking one. It is
harsh, unforgiving, cruel. They toss their hair over their shoulder and narrow their eyes, before
changing shape as well.
Their skin turns back and their eyes start burning. Scales grows on their usually ivory skin, their
hair changes into a thick mane, massive horns sprout on their skull and large wings appear on their
back, so wide their make the room look darker.
You are now staring in the eyes of a wider, darker humanoid dragon… and, you’re are no means an
expert on dragons, but he definitely is a male, judging by his body shape. White fish-like teeth flash
in his jaws when he speaks to you.
“Do you know why I paid seventy gold nuggets for you, human?”
He would have been better off buying a tooth brush. The stench of his breath is… well, let’s just say
that now you want to vomit. Thanks a lot, Blurred.
“No, why?” You ask, covering your sensitive nose with your hand.
“Because I was once a human, just like you, who had fallen in this realm by accident. I learned to
survive here, acquired power… but I never could feel as if someone could understand me. I figured
that an other human for my world would be the perfect companion. That is why I bought you and
brought you here, Skippy.”
You frown. It is hard to imagine that the monster sitting near you on the bed was once human. But
hey, if he says so… But you still have questions for him.
“Then why didn’t you change me into a human, if you wanted a human companion?” You ask.
“Because…” his smiles scare you, “… I am not into humans anymore.”
And he bends over to kiss you. Well, it would be really generous to call it a kiss. It is a hard shove
of his jaw against yours, with slick saliva dipping everywhere, and let’s not forget the tooth brush
problem. Yeah, you’ve had better. You are so surprised thought that it takes you a while to realize
what he really wants… and suddenly you have no more questions to ask him.
You shove him away and slip under his guard, making a beeline for the door. He takes a while to
realize you’re escaping.
You hear a roar behind you and push forward, but nothing comes after you. Curious, you look over
your shoulder and smirk when you see that Blurred has some trouble with the doorway. That’s
what happen when you get to big to pass doors!
Written by Clayem on 25 March 2016
Out In The Wild
Before you know it, you are out the front door and running down the road to the village. You pass
various people that send you strange looks but you ignore them, to preoccupied to really pay any
attention to them. After a sprint, you realize that you still have wings and you decide to fly off.
You flap your wings. Your new body takes a few moments to get used to, but you soon catch your
balance and soar up.
The wind feels divine on your wings, as you get father and father from this damn magician house.
You are free, and even if you aren’t human, you can fly and that is the best news so far. Besides,
who wouldn’t want to be a dragon? Even if you should have ran out of this house the second he had
uttered the word ‘pet’, you are glad he at least brought you that.
As you fly, you figure out a few things. Now, you understand why Blurred was, well, blurred: he
most probably wanted to hide his true form under a doll-like appearance… but didn’t want to look
too female. The more you think about it, the more you realize that you should have been alerted
about a few strange details already.
But it all in the past. For now, you should focus on getting as many miles you can between you and
him.
Written by Clayem on 26 March 2016
Searching For A Shelter
You may know how to fly, but you have trouble with keeping the same pace for long distances. You
eventually stop and rest for a while, before deciding to alternate between walking and flying to
cover more ground. The day in a beautiful one, and before you know it, you are humming as you
travel, looking around in great curiosity and wondering what adventures are waiting for you ahead.
You don’t think that you will hear from Blurred again, or so you hope dearly.
Eventually, evening falls slowly over you and you start looking for a shelter. You are in what
appears to be a rural zone with few houses around. You knock at one of them. A woman opens the
door but doesn’t looks to keen on letting a random strange dragon in.
Written by Clayem on 27 March 2016
Cold And Rejected
You try your best. You even promise that you will work a little tomorrow to repay for your stay, but
she stays firm and you find yourself alone outside in the cold once more. Angry, you kick a rock
that tumbles a little further on the path. All this because of the fact that you look like a dragon! Isn’t
that racist?
You continue on the lonely road. There are other houses around, but you after such a total fail from
the first try you don’t have the courage to test your luck a second time.
Eventually, you decide that you will be fine under a shelter of some sort in case it rains tonight,
laying on the ground. You read once a story where the main character protected himself from the
cold under a bunch of dead leaves. So you leave towards the forest that you can sort of make out in
the darkness. You never gave it a thought before, but you regret the public lighting from your world:
even with your dragon eyes, it is hard to make out what is happening in the night. In addition to that,
the cold seems to be getting to you. Somehow, your moves are slower and you feel drowsy: it looks
like you are as cold-blooded as any other reptiles after all.
As you advance, you suddenly notice a fire burning in a field. You can make out shapes sitting
around it.
Written by Clayem on 28 March 2016
Meeting The Murrs
You approach them. It seems to be a fairly big group of people from what you can see, about twenty
people including children. They are gathering around three caravans that seem to be the type that
gets pulled around by animals. In fact, the creatures that do that job – even in the dark, they don’t
look like horses of oxen – are parked a little further.
As you get closer, you start to distinguish the features of the people there and notice that they don’t
look very human. That doesn’t surprise you as much as it should have: since you arrived here you
have met many creatures – mostly as clients of Blurred – that seemed as smart, if not smarter, then
humans while having strange shapes.
They are a little smaller then you and stand of two legs with ease, even if some of the younger ones
are running around on four legs. Short dark brown fur covers their body from head to toe, protecting
them from the chilly air of the night. Their eyes and upper face resembles the ones of cats but the
lower part looks more like human’s. Round ears perk out of their hair on the side of their heads.
As you approach you, they gather around you and start asking questions – or at least, you guess they
are questions, since you can only reply on the tone to understand the strange words they emit. You
try a few words in English, but it appears that they don’t understand you more then you understand
them.
However, they don’t reject you. One of them takes your hand and brings you near the fire when
they see you shiver and a blanket is thrown over your shoulder. People gather around you. A
younger one, curious, climbs on your wings to reach for your horns and you let her do, to tired to
protest.
Food is brought to you. It’s not much, a piece of bread, some lukewarm soup, but you look at their
worn clothes, their caravans, their settlement under the stars and at the mercy of the night and you
understand it’s all they have. You nod and smile, before eating quietly.
Strange, how the world goes. The richest person you met may look like a doll, but turned out to be
nothing more then a beast at heart. The ones that have a roof are to scared of losing it to let you in
and the ones that have nothing give all they have left to you, without waiting anything from you in
return. Why so?
Maybe the recognize a lost soul when they see one.
It suddenly strikes you. You are lost. Alone in a world you know nothing off, a world with strange
rules, in a body that is not even yours. You left family behind – what will they say? Will you ever
see them again? And your friends? And everything you have accomplished in your life? What was
the point of building it all if you weren’t even able to take care any of it here?
You might have as well died…
Maybe you did die, and this is the afterlife. No one comes back from the dead.
You feel a few tears stream down your face before realizing that they are yours. You reach up and
touch them, surprise by their very presence, and bring your finger in front of your face. The tips
shine in the fire’s light because of their new moisture.
It appears that dragons can cry too. How strange.
Suddenly, someone hugs you from behind. It is one the creatures. Then a second one comes, then a
third, and a forth, and before you know it you are in the center of the hugest group hug of your life.
It’s not much; it’s all they have; your tears dry out.
You fall asleep next to the dying fire, wrapped up in the blanket they gave you.
The next day, you wake up as one of the smallest around the settlement climb on your face
dribbling and babbling some nonsense syllables in the way only toddlers do. You discover that you
can breathe fire by lighting the one for breakfast amd a piece of bread is shoved in your hands some
omelet laying on the top. You share a cup with one of the creatures that appear to be around your
age and get three refilling of tea to get some warmth in your cold limbs. Nobody speaks a word you
can understand, but communication happen anyway, using signs, tugging, pointing and sometimes
even miming. Several people present themselves to you and you catch their names easily, but you
have nothing to give back. Eventually, they come up with a name for you: Tori. From what you
understand, it means dragon, but you aren’t quite sure. However, you did understand that they refer
to themselves as the Murrs, even if you are not sure if it’s the name of their tribe or their specie.
Even if there are caravans, it doesn’t look like they will be going anywhere today. You give a hand
for the washing of a bunch of dirty clothes and help bringing fresh water from a stream nearby,
along other various choirs.
As the sun gets higher in the sky, several targets are set up, a little further in the field, and bows are
taken out. They are obviously hand made by the Murrs themselves from their rustic design but the
latter seem pretty skilled with them.
Noticing that you are watching them from the side, one of them comes and proposes you their
weapon for a try. They show you how you should position themselves and you get the hang of quite
easily. Of course, the first few shots are way off, but when one hits the outer side of the target,
many give you what appears to be their congrats.
You feel pretty proud. As you walk to retrieve the arrows you used, a thought comes to you: if you
were ever to see Blurred again, that magician that had bought you and torn you from your world…
your bull’s eye will be his pupil, in the middle of those cursed purple iris.
Written by Clayem on 29 March 2016
The Rumor
You understand, a while later, that they desire to see you stay with them. Of course, you accept their offer with great joy and quickly integrate yourself in the small community. With time, you even start to lean their language.
At the beginning you try to keep hold of the time passing by. But after the first winter and spring, you slowly, without really realizing that you are doing it, give up on it. Plans for the future disappear as you focus more and more on the present and helping your new family survive by winning money for them or helping them.
What do they do for a living? Don’t you know? They perform as what they call a storytelling troop. The closest modern human world equivalent would be a circus, even if you haven’t heard of any that only tell stories to make a living. They travel from village to village, performing in front of people and telling them wonderful stories. They usually don’t come so far north and were starting to head back because of the language and cultural barrier when they met you. You realized that, at the time, they were even lower on food and expandable supplies because of the little success they had, yet they took you in without a second thought. They did quite a lot for you, more sometimes then what you realize.
But it isn’t as if you didn’t pay them back. You also help in their troop, especially in stories with a dragon. You breathe flames, a great help in shows, and the first priority when you discovered that was to be able to control it enough that you didn’t accidently set someone on fire when you did so. ‘The Dargon’s Treasure’ became a great classic for smaller ones and bigger
ones when you crashed through the scene to make an appearance, breathing fire over their heads and roaring to the top of your lungs.
Life on the road may sound like fun, but it has its dangers. There are bandits, people with ill intentions, and not all the masters of the land are charmed to see a whole group of troubadours going through their territory – and that included, once, a real, full-sized grown dragon, that was quite shocked when it laid its eyes on you. That is why the Murrs all train in archery, at least a little: in case they would get attacked. You, after discovering that you were a full fire-breather, left the fastidious practice
behind and only take it as a source of amusement when you feel motivated.
Until you hear of Blurred again.
You are… well, you are out drinking as a celebration in a nearby town, after the seventh full night in a row. The large tent under which you perform was filled to the brim with an enthusiastic public and the Murrs finally amassed enough money to buy a bigger, newer cloth to replace the old worn-out one. After the performance, you best pals came over to your sleeping place – unless you are on the go, you prefer to sleep outside even if the cold makes you numb – and, guessing that you weren’t feeling sleepy just yet, proposed to go out to town and have some fun. You would have normally declined, you don’t trust your firing aims when you are drunk and you hate being hungover, but you told yourself that you would only give yourself a pleasant buzz before stopping. You will be the one bringing your friends back home this time.
Somehow, you started a conversation with some of the people on a nearby table, something that you would have never done without a good glass of the local alcohol firmly settled in your blood. You are still a little shaky around the exact terms for things, but through estimations and synonyms, you are understandable and you get everything they tell you fairly easily.
And luckily you do.
From what they say, there is a magician, who’s named is blurred in your informer’s mind, coming from the north that has been banished shortly after they discovered that he is a human from the ‘Other World’ – that’s how they name your birth realm. One of his friends, an Elf that goes under the name of Arch, has been caught after they suspected him to have been doing some
funny business around the sealed portals. After a long sequence of ‘persuasion’ – that’s noble slang for torture – he not only confessed the true nature of his college, but also that he has brought an other human in this world, a human that is still on the run after having escaped from the magician’s hold.
Of course, you soon connect the dots and realize that the human is you.
At first, the king wanted to kill the magician, but he was too powerful and he fled to the nearby kingdom, were he was protected. Since this incident, some years back, he is banished and even if the people don’t outwardly want to kill him because of his power, they are warry and don’t let him establish himself anywhere, meaning that he has been on the road almost as long as
you. He tries to hang low of course, to let himself be forgotten, but he has turned into quite the local celebrity by now. The reason why he surfaced in the current conversation was that there is news that he is in the region.
This case had been a great scandal at the time. Even if the northern kingdoms had stayed pretty much under the Other World’s influence and the nobles of those lands prided themselves in speaking, English, they keep the sealed portals under close watch and it was believed that it was impossible to go thought them anymore at the time. After that, they had of course reinforced the lacking security around the gates, even if the populations were pressuring the crown that they wanted the gates destroyed once and for all, like in the southern lands.
A little questioning about why are humans so bad teaches you what is just so bad about them, something that you never brought up with your Murr friends.
They were once just another race of this world, occupying the extreme south territories a very long time ago. The problem was that they were very reactive to magic: the slightest touch could change their entire shape. Because of that, they were extremely strong and dangerous to deal with, even if the downside of this power was that they could summon magic and had to reply on their surroundings for that.
So the old kings made a secret alliance to get rid of them. Because they were so powerful, no one wanted to get in their way and everyone was more or less completely enslaved by them: this couldn’t go on. But they also didn’t want to commit genocide on an entire specie: so they created gates across the whole territory, gates that lead to another world where they couldn’t strive,
because it was a world without magic at all and, humans, in their very essence, weren’t magical enough to come back on their own.
They first used the gates to forge items from this Other World, items that were able to suck out the magic of their surroundings. The humans, left defenseless, were then captured and brought to the gates, all until the very last ones – minus the ones that died on the way of course.
Once the world was rid of their nuisance, all the southern gates were destroyed. Since the North hadn’t suffered as much form the humans then the South, they kept a few, because humans were an ingenious and fascinating species and they hoped that they could benefit from communicating with them in the future. But, leaking hostile humans would be a disaster: the knowledge
on how to make the magic-sucking items had been lost to the ages. Would that magician want, he could be able to destroy a good deal of things before someone powerful enough to end him would have the time to react – and there still is this rumored human hiding somewhere, waiting, unless he was dead already.
Deciding that you had heard enough, you pay for the drink of your careful informer, that thanks you graciously, and decide that it is time to head back. You grab your friends the drunk Murrs and head out with them.
The night’s air is cold and crisp. Winter in the South is pleasant. There are the occasional downpours and the wind might go a little nuts but it’s better than facing ten foot of snow depth with nothing then a thin wood layer to protect you from the howling ice storm. You walk a behind your group, a little embarrassed at their loud singing and their dancing.
“So that’s what you have been doing all their years?” Ask a voice in English. You stop in your tracks: there is only one person that would spontaneously talk to you like that.
Written by Clayem on 03 May 2016
The Reunion
Standing there, in the middle of the street, is a tall hooded figure. His coat is worn, his boots are old, and he is covered in the road’s dust. Yet, he is intimidating, both in stature and aura. And, despite the fact that you can’t clearly see their face in the deep dramatic shade that covers it, you have no trouble recognizing their gender this time – mostly because you know him already.
“Hello, Blurred,” you say boldly. You know that this could be dangerous, and yet you have no fear. The memories you have of him seem to be a lifetime ago and you remember that he never really physically hurt you.
“You know,” he continued, “all these years I wanted to tell you why I didn’t go after you right away. I could have caught you and brought you back. You were – I guess that you still are – with no magical or battling experience, just as I requested to Arch you would. But I figured that you could use a night on your own before I come and get you, to show you just how grateful you should be for having me for taking care of you. But, hey, things sort of caught up with me, and before I knew it, you were out of my reach for some time.” He sighted. His voice is low, like the time where you departed, and you guess that is must be his dragon form under that hood, even if you see no wings.
You remember your resolution to kill him in the beginning, how certain your arrow would have been if he would have presented himself to your sight, but now, you aren’t so sure about it.
Written by Clayem on 04 May 2016
I Was Looking For You
After hearing your question, he stays quiet for a while. He suddenly reaches up and descends his hood, offering you a large smile. He is indeed in his dragon form, and there is something truly disturbing about his large shark teeth displayed in a smile. “Why, my dear Skippy. I guess that it would be easy to guess, wouldn’t it?”
You frown. Something tells you that you are not going to like the answer; you look over your shoulder to see if your friends are still around, but it looks like they continued without noticing that you are missing. Drunk Murrs aren’t exactly the most careful creature ever. So you focus your attention on the magician, since you are alone with him now.
“While you were babysitting little Murrs, I was looking for you. You see, I am quite careful with my magic and the people I transform: once I did it, even if it’s just healing them, I always know where they are. It’s not a very precise thing, mind you, and it decreases greatly with distance, otherwise I would have walked straight to you hiding place and be done with it.”
He takes a long step forth, considering you carefully. You recognize the glint in his purple eyes and you don’t like it at all. You take a step back to mirror his.
“You don’t know what it is to lose everything, don’t you? Or maybe you do.” He chuckled darkly. “Well, say that you would realize that there was something, anything, you could keep from your old life. You would want to hold on that thing as a memory, would you? What I mean is that you are mine, Skippy, always. I am sure that you know already that slavery in this world is widely accepted: hence, you are the one that is wrong for running away from me.”
Now is the time for you to reply: think smartly.
Written by Clayem on 05 May 2016
Bluff Me, Bluff You Back
You tell him that no-one would help him anyway and that telling people that you were running away would be pointless.
He laughs. “Oh, my dear Skippy, where were you all these years? Certainly in some little haven of peace. I had no idea Murrs were so naïve, especially ones that are on the road like your ‘friends’.” He air-quotes the least word, and you find yourself
frowning at what he is implying. “Oh, you thought that I didn’t know of you? I have been watching you from some distance since a few days, yes. Do you really think that they were genuinely wanting to be your friend? Everyone is selfish here. They
only want to have you for themselves. A real dragon performing for them and all that for free? Who wouldn’t want that?” He laughs some more.
You feel your fists balling in rage. They became, over the years, the closest thing to family that you have. You will not let that self-righteous bastard insult them. You are starting to remember that he, indeed, took you away from your family, your real family. The only thing he hasn’t done to you was physically harming you, and he would have done it just fine if you wouldn’t have stopped him.
“But to reply to your very sassy remark,” continues Blurred once his mocking chuckle creased, “there are, indeed, many that would help me. In every town, there is always this very rich and anguished person that dreads the day were slaves will have
ideas of they own, and that treat them worse than dirt. A word at this person and there will be a bounty on your head. If slaves can simply escape and have no consequences for it, it will be a very bad example for the ones that are still in captivity, wouldn’t it?”
He could be bluffing as well. You cross your arms and send in a skeptical look, to show him that you aren’t buying his story without proof.
“Don’t look at me like that.” He waves his hand at you, as if your expression was an annoying fly he could chase away. “It’s true. But if you don’t want to come with me, I could make your life very difficult, you know? There are just so many ways to do that. In fact, I have an excellent idea right now.”
Written by Clayem on 06 May 2016
To Lose More Then Looks
You reply comes out loud and clear. Yet, Blurred seems to doubt it, and he frown at you, looking very unsatisfied. He places his hands on his hips and he sights.
“You know, last time taught me that treating you badly wasn’t the best option. And despite what you think of me… I am not a
evil person; you know? Five years of hardship puts a little brain in the skull. So do believe me when I say that I do not want to do this. But it’s not like I didn’t warn you…”
He suddenly strikes. His hand comes down on you, and a once familiar sensation descends on you at the same time: you are being transformed. Your scales fall off with little clangs on the road and fur grows in their place. You lose a little height, but nothing too bad at least. Your pointy ears get rounder and your horns vanish back into your skull, leaving no trace behind, and so does your tail. Your clothes grow slack around you thinner frame. You bring your hands in front of your eyes and it doesn’t take you a long time to figure out that you have changed into a shape that you are very familiar with: you are now an Murr. But your fur, instead of being the rich shade of brown you know, is white or pale yellow, it is too dark to be quite sure. You look, puzzled, at the magician. He had acted as if he had inflicted something terrible on you.
“You’ll find out soon enough,” he says with an enigmatic smile. “And when you’ll have enough of it, just know… I am not very far away. But do not linger too long: I have all the time in the world, but I might come up with another brilliant idea like this one, and no ones like it when I get some ideas.”
And just like that, he turned around and walked away in what seemed to be, to you, a random direction. Even without that, he looks pretty dramatic, especially after his cryptic words.
Well, at least he is not forcing you to follow him or anything. You have the impression that there is a trick to the whole thing, even if you notice right away that the fur makes it much warmer to stand in the cold, and you are now warm-blooded. You smile and you turn around to join with your friends once more.
You run to them. They got quite the head start, but you catch up with them as they wait for one of them to be done puking on the side of the road. The joys of alcohol, really.
You call out to them, and one of the soberer ones turn to you. However, when he sees you, his eyes widen and he grabs the arm of his neighbor, pointing at you. You figure that it’s the new appearance and you push forward fearlessly. You are about to explain when they all turn to you, and on each face is hate.
You stop in your tracks. You are starting to understand what that bastard magician meant. “Hey, don’t worry! It’s just me! I ran into a magician on the way, and he changed me, so–”
“Cursed whitch!” Spat one of them. “Don’t come near!”
“Wait, I am–”
“Crippled! Get away from us!” The menacing Murrs close in on you, and you get a pretty bad feeling about all this. Yet, you can’t believe that you are really in trouble. You know these people! They are all good guys. None of them would hurt a fly. You have been living with them for years. You start calling their names, showing them that it’s you.
Fear appear on their faces, soon replaced by rage. They advance on you with a cold determination in their eyes now, and you can’t help but take a step back.
“You’ve been spying on us, you witch!” Cried one of them. There are several nods around and some even hiss at you. The atmosphere is tensed and you wish that you were elsewhere. Is that because of your white fur? Don’t they recognize your voice?
You explain once more what happened to you, but before you can say anything, they rush to you. One tackles you to the ground and before you know it, there is an explosion of pain on your side. One of them kicked you! You gasp in pain and try to roll over, but more hands come down to hold you down and to prevent you from moving. Familiar faces descend on you, filled with hate. You don’t understand. You know that they are drunk, but how can they be capable of such blind rage?
Soon, you have no more room in your head to think. Fists descend on your face. You hear your nose break with a crack. Then other things break with other cracks, and everything sort of fade in a blur.
Finally, after what seems forever, you are being tossed over the edge of the road and it the ditch that lays there, with the vomit from before. They leave, but you don’t see that – you fainted.
Written by Clayem on 07 May 2016
