Maybe I’m just too caught up in my little skill-related reverie, or maybe I’m feeling a little too prideful, despite my languid pace. Regardless, when we see a dam in the river, Lil and I investigate curiously. I probably look a tad haggard, with my face hanging a little slack-jawed from mental exhaustion. Actually, I am haggard, as I didn’t notice the creatures that built the dam until we were basically walking on it.
There’s two cute spherical creatures with big buck teeth, and beaver tails, one wearing black, circular-rimmed big glasses. How do those even stay on!? They don’t have ears! Well, actually these ones do have tiny little pseudo furry ears that are more like a little flap, but not enough to wrap lens frames around.
Seeing us basically trampling their property, the bespectacled critters begin flinging sticks at us with their tails. Lil seems to be able to hear them, or read their boxes. I see faint greyed out outlines of text boxes in front of the creatures, and can almost make out the sounds of the text being generated.
Lil’s frown comes through in their font vocalization, “Sorry, pard, they feel like we’re trespassing, and want us to get lost.”
I plea with Lil to at least share our desire with them, “Oh, dangit, can you tell them we’re interested in helping each other out, and building a place together?”
“Sure sure.” Lil agrees to speak on our behalf, then Lil and the beaver spheres talk for a bit, but I can tell it’s not going so well. At least they aren’t hostile, but they aren’t warming up to us either. Or maybe warming is the problem, as Lil explains.
Sadly, Lil doesn’t have good news, “Sorry buddy, no dice. They say that unless we’re pals with other water dwellers, that they want nothing to do with us.”
I try to find the silver lining in Lil’s summary, “So if we came back with other friends who were aquatic, they’d come join us? Or well, at least not shoo us away from their property?”
Lil nods in response, assuming a similar line of thought, “Seems so, they weren’t mean or anything, just a misunderstanding with us showing up out of nowhere.”
I try to puzzle it out, supposing aloud, “I guess we continue on downriver, and maybe we’ll find more aquatic creatures. I’m honestly really glad to meet them, even if they don’t want to be our friends, it means we’re not alone in a hostile world.”
Lil’s agreement comes across adorably, “Me too! Everyone or everything else I’ve come across other than you, I had to fight and eat.”
Chuckling, I chide and tease Lil, “Well, let’s not fight and eat eachother, okay?” I laugh as I tease Lil, though they know I wouldn’t dream of doing such a thing.
Journeying downriver, we stop yet another night to set up camp. Snuggling alongside one another, Lil and I drift off to sleep. I do suppose we should take turns sleeping, to keep one of us alert in case something should happen. But it would be dreadfully lonely for the one awake. I honestly can’t imagine having to spend any more days without Lil chatting at my side, bounding around, full of vim, verve, and vigor. Also that might be three v words that mean the same thing, but what do I know, I’m apparently some sort of jungle dwelling pixie-humanoid with a dragon best friend.
As I drift off to sleep, I try to imagine where I know dragons from, and why the thought of one scared me so much early on, when I saw that flying dinosaur. Maybe focusing my thoughts as I fall asleep might dictate my dreams, and maybe they would shake loose some answers that dwell inside. Or maybe I’d at least get, what’s the word, lucid dreaming, being aware of the dream and able to move around in it.
Memory Logged, Dream:
As I enter the rustic wooden tavern, its dim lighting creating a pleasant atmosphere, a quiet lyre being played in the corner by a local bard, I'm greeted by the innkeeper Jarvis. "Welcome welcome, how do you fare traveler?"
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In response to Jarvis' question I reply in as jovial an expression I can muster "I'm fairing fairly fairly, how about yourself good innkeep?"
Jarvis, keeping up the customer-service face answers in kind. "Oh doing quite alright, quite alright, here for a pint, or perhaps a room?"
However, as I've a need to get down to business, I glance about the room suspiciously to make certain no one's within earshot before leaning a bit closer to state. "Neither sadly friend, here about a job, I heard you've a certain special task you have that needs to be taken care of discretely."
"Oh my, my my my, well yes indeed. Please, have a pint on me while we discuss the details." Jarvis's reaction is tempered, but nervous, as he reaches for a mug beneath the countertop.
"If that could be a pint of milk, juice, or water, I'd be much obliged, I'll need to keep my edge for your task." Wanting to remain focused for the task at hand, I abstain from alcohol for the eve.
"Oh why yes of course." Understanding my serious tone, Jarvis' face betrays their nervousness for the task at hand. Killing’s ugly business, but tyrants must fall, and to reach that goal, certain obstacles must be removed, that’s where I come in.
An excitable voice rouses me from my slumber, “Where do you come in?”
I awaken, yawning and shake my head, rattling my skull a bit in confusion, especially since the textboxes don’t truly produce sound, “Huh, what Lil?”
Lil prods questioningly, “You were talking in your sleep, you said ‘that’s where I come in’ in a deep voice that sounded silly. It’s like you were telling a story. How does it end? Does the tyrant fall?”
I jokingly grump, “Oh, I have no idea, you woke me up pretty early in the dream.”
Lil wheedles, “Early? But you’ve been asleep even longer than usual.”
“Oh, huh, I guess I didn’t start dreaming until later in my sleep? Or something.” I wonder if I’m sleeping longer due to having worked so hard to increase my maximum energy capacity. It was absolutely exhaustive, draining, tiring, and any other word for something that wipes you out. Honestly, I don’t think I could manage to do it again if I ever had to recover maximum energy for some reason. It would take far, far longer.
Lil and I chat about dreams as we get up and set the camping equipment back into my inventory. Lil seems to think that I have extremely unusual dreams, but neither of us truly have a basis for comparison. I’m really glad to be journeying with my little buddy, the world seems less empty and frighteningly lonely, we even met those beaver’ish individuals. They didn’t necessarily like us, but they weren’t hateful or hostile, and their talk of other water dwellers hints that at least they believe there are other creatures who live in or near the water, somewhere in the world.
Having said that, or well, thought it, I still don’t know for sure what I’m doing. I’m pretty sure I’m either a kid, maybe some kind of elven pixie of unknowable age, or goblinoid teenager, maybe. Regardless, a something-or-other who is living in a place of magic and powers and skills and dragon newts and dinosaurs and feathered bears. I can’t tell if that’s a paradise or a punishment honestly. It’s full of fantasy and wonder. I can look at these tall deciduous trees, whose branches are too high above to reach. This forest whose canopy is laden with vines that dangle to its floor. This land whose enormous jungle leaves occasionally dot the ground like lost umbrellas. I spy all of these wondrous things, and my little companion, and it’s all a vast work of beauty. Every vibrant brown and green and red, the crystal blue water and its brilliant white spray are all captivating. The soft shifting sound of soil beneath my feet as I trot along the riverside, barely audible alongside the roar of the river itself is wondrous as well. Every last thing here seems to be terrible and awesome in its magnificence.
Amidst all this wonder and beauty and awe-inspiring nature, there’s me. I’m a quite possibly orphan individual who just seems entirely out of place. There’s nothing like me. I’m pretty sure I’m a human, or some sort of human offshoot or derivative, but there are absolutely no signs of other humans anywhere. The few creatures I’ve seen or met are nothing like humans, nor even humanoid in the usual description. I imagine dogs playing poker, or rather, I imagine humans playing poker, when I’ve never seen a playing card, and my imagination decides that dogs playing it is more likely in this reality. Poker makes me think of a phrase, aces and eights, a dead man’s hand, but I don’t even know what that means in any reality.
I'm confused, and lost in a lot of ways, but at least I'm not alone. Hopefully random phrases popping into my head like aces and eights don't mean anything. I'm pretty certain I'm not psychic. At least, I think so. Lost, definitely confused, and probably not psychic, that sounds like me to a tee, hah.