Zachary King
LVL 1 Human Villager Age: 19
Location: Uknown Village
EXP: 0 / 100% to LVL 2
HP: 100% | MP: 100% Error: Status cannot be displayed.
As I walked casually through the village following Jensan’s directions, I couldn’t help but marvel at the organized chaos that surrounded me. Everywhere I looked was a flurry of activity and building materials aplenty. On one side of the path were immense piles of bricks and pallets stacked with lumber, patiently waiting their turn to be taken to a building in progress. On the other side were crates and barrels full of other construction materials, such as hand tools, nails, mortar, and even fully-built furniture.
Hmm…This isn’t the way I would have thought a village was built. I always thought they sort of just…popped up. Organically. But what do I know?
My destination was on the other side of the village where most of the buildings had been completed, if not used yet.
“Ye can’t miss it, eh? It’s the biggest building over there,” Jensan had told me. “It’s the only one with a red fuckin’ roof, too! Dunno why Maude picked red, but she did, and sure ‘nough, her roof is as red as a drunkard’s ass.”
I didn’t really have an opinion of my own about socially-acceptable roofing colors, so I didn’t chime in.
“She’ll likely be in th’ kitchen, that one. Ain’t got no guests yet but still she still gotta have food on tables.” That last bit he said with a fond grin, though, which told me that Maude might be a little eccentric but she was also well-liked. That bodes well!
If I’d thought the unfinished side of the village had been strange, I was about to see something much stranger. Over here were standing buildings, fully finished and even furnished, yet eerily dark and silent. Two of them were very obviously meant to be residential homes, but they didn’t feel very home-like right now. Their darkened windows and hollow doors gave me the impression of a skull. The strange silence reminded me of a graveyard I’d visited with my mother when I was a child. Half of it had been yet unoccupied back then, so there were rows upon rows of tiny stone markers with no names, waiting for someone to claim them. It just seems so sad, somehow.
Moving on, I rounded the corner where the path split, east towards a huge stone structure that looked like some sort of keep, and west towards Maude’s Inn, according to Jensan. As I looked east, the reason Maude had chosen red tiles for her Inn’s roof was abundantly clear; to catch the eye. The Inn sat obscured behind another building (Looks like a series of stalls, maybe for a market?) but was much taller than the stalls, and the red tiles shone like fish scales under the mid-afternoon sun. Yup, he was right, there’s definitely no missing it.
The entrance seems friendly enough, I thought as I approached. I was standing on a covered porch of sorts with wooden support pillars that had been carved to look like flowing water, complete with the ornate likenesses of various fish. Above my head was stretched cloth in red and yellow stripes, draped over the roof like an awning to keep the sun off. Just above the door hung a wooden sign, carved to match the pillars, with the name painted in bright yellow letters, “The Waterfalls Inn.”
Location Updated: Waterfalls Inn, Unknown Village
“Oh, fuck my life. Can’t I get away from bad puns, even in my dreams?”
“Hey, now,” boomed what I thought was a female voice from behind me. “Ain’t nothing wrong with a bad pun now and then, dreams or otherwise. Keeps ya on yer toes.”
I spun around to see who’d startled me. I'm not sure what I expected to see, but let me tell you, what I saw was definitely not it.
“W…what are you?”
The woman in front of me (Definitely a woman, she’s got boobs. Big ones, too...) was well over a foot taller than me, with vaguely olive-brown skin and the build of a freight train. She was, in a word, imposing. I felt more confused than scared at first, to be honest, because as much as this woman looked like she could strangle me with one hand, she also had a...kind of motherly aura to her. But she was certainly, absolutely, positively, in no way human.
I mean, she looked human enough in some ways, but there were things about her appearance that didn’t add up. Take her hair, for instance; it had been shaved down to the scalp on one side, but the other was left to course down her left shoulder in rippling waves of deep forest green, reaching to her waist. I thought I could make out tiny braids studded with brightly-colored beads woven throughout, as well. It was beautiful, but like I said…it was also green. It could have been dyed but…
Something tells me it’s natural. What the hell is going on?
And then there was the rest of her. Her skin definitely had a green tint in this natural light, and her eyes were…lavender. Of course, lavender eyes, that’s normal, right? Sure, of course it is. Yup. She was a little muscular, too, but not in an unattractive way. Her clothing seemed average enough for the setting…she wore simple breeches and sturdy boots much like mine, with a light beige blouse free of visible embellishments, all topped off by a stout white chef’s apron.
“What am I?” the greenish mountain of a woman asked, crossing her arms and tilting her head the smallest bit. It was then that my senses came back to me and I realized what I’d just said. And who I’d said it to.
“Oh, oh shit, uh, I didn’t mean…I just…” I fumbled my words as always. I must have had a terrified look on my face because this lady, who could only be Maude, suddenly laughed and unfolded her arms.
Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.
“Now, now, don’t shit a brick in front of my Inn, kiddo. We got enough bricks ‘round here already, eh?” The mountain of a woman clapped me on the shoulder hard enough that I stumbled before continuing, “I know you didn’t mean no harm.”
Sheepishly, I rubbed my shoulder where her hand had connected, and responded quietly, “No, I’ve…just never seen anyone like you before. I’m sorry, uh, Missus…” But she just laughed again and draped her arm over my shoulders, steering me back around to face the Inn door again.
“Missus, my ass. Name’s Maude. Just Maude, got it? My friends call me Maude. Enemies, too. I run this place, and considerin’ there’s nothing else o’ interest over here yet, I assume you be needing a place to stay, is that right?” As she bustled us inside without waiting for my answer, her jovial laughter continued.
Her laugh is really what won me over in the end…it was deep and came from her toes. A true guffaw. No matter what you call it, though, it was obvious that her laughter real. Genuine. When she laughed, she threw her head back hard enough to make beads clink together, and her eyes sparkled like sea glass. You could probably hear it clear across the whole damn town. No one back home laughed like that…this person beside me was a level of happy I didn’t know existed. I’d certainly never been that happy before.
In time, her smiling eyes and booming laugh would feel more like home to me than the house I grew up in ever did.
As it turns out, dying tends to give you a new perspective.
The common room of the Waterfalls Inn was not what I expected, either. Spacious and very clean, it was lit brightly by natural light streaming from windows set into the ceiling. There were braziers around the room as well, with oil lamps in them, awaiting nightfall. Damn good idea to use sunlight, though. Bet that saves on the bills.
Straight ahead from the doorway was a long and elegant bar with empty stools lined up against it, ready for thirsty occupants. Behind it were shelves upon shelves of bottles, interspersed with brick-a-brack, in many different shapes and sizes. There even looked to be a series of keg barrels behind the bar, tapped and ready to begin filling steins. Nestled front and center between the shelves, exactly even with the front door, was the namesake of this place - an elaborate indoor waterfall. Several feet wide and stretching all the way up to the ceiling, it looked to be coming out of a source from above, but how in the world did it work? There didn’t seem to be electricity, so no automatic pump…
I’ll have to ask about it later.
Left from the doorway was a short stage set against the far wall, with soft yellow curtains hung behind it, and a series of glass bowls to hold candles for light during… Shows? Live bands? Entertainment of some kind, likely. Dotting the floor were brand-new round wooden tables, set with sturdy-looking chairs made from matching wood. They were plain in design, but if anything, that made the place all the more sophisticated.
But Maude didn’t guide me towards the stage. Instead, she moved us to the right, where I could see a pair of archways set into the wall. The one on the right held a pair of old-fashioned swinging doors, like the kind you saw in Western movies back home, and the unmistakable smell of home cooked food wafting out. Set a few feet to its side, the second archway held a staircase that likely lead up to the next floor. I bet that’s where the rooms for rent are.
I opened my mouth to say something, but only managed an indignant squawk when Maude suddenly picked me up. It was like I weighed no more than a feather to her. While I flailed helplessly, she plunked me down in a chair at the table closest to what had to be the kitchen door and put her hands on her hips.
“So, then, kiddo. Whatcher name and whatcher business here?” Even that was asked with a smile, but I still gulped a little before I could answer.
“Zachary. Storm. Um, friends call me Zack, and I don’t think I have any enemies. And I'm just passing through.”
“Zack, eh? Well, Zack, the only folks who got no enemies are them who live boring lives.” She paused a moment between breaths to put her fingers to her mouth. She turned her head a little and let out a shrill whistle, then followed it up with a shout loud enough to wake the dead.
“’EY, GIRL!”
I thought I heard a sort of reply in the form of a tiny voice from the kitchen, but I couldn’t be sure. Maude seemed to be sure plenty, though, because she kept on shouting, “Git yer tail out here. We got us a fuckin’ guest! A GUEST, YA HEAR? Let’s get him fed, eh? Bring me one o’ everything, he’s a skinny little shit.”
“Hey, I’m not tha…” But Maude had darted behind the bar with a speed and grace no mountain ought to have, and was clearly busy with something. So much so that I didn’t think she’d hear me, anyway.
She returned with three huge pewter mugs balanced expertly on a tray in one hand, all filled to the brim with what smelled like alcohol of some kind. Beer, maybe? Ale? I have no idea. Smells bitter. One of them got set down hard in front of me on the table, causing a ring of thick foam to slide down the side of the mug onto the table. I blinked at it and started to tell her that I was not yet drinking age…but I stopped myself.
This is a dream, right? Then to hell with it!
Acting as though I had every right to, I picked up the mug just as the doors to the kitchen swung open and a girl wearing a stereotypical “wench” outfit zipped through, carrying two huge trays of food in either hand. She was damn fast; most of her motions were a blur to me. In short order, she had the table covered in platters of food the likes of which I’d never seen before. But it all looks delicious, anyway! Maybe I should ask how much it co…
The younger, tinier woman finally slowed down enough for me to get a good look at her. As she sat down in the chair opposite mine, taking one of the mugs from Maude, I could only stare at her.
“Are…those…?” I pointed with my free hand, unknowingly spilling some of my beer with the other, coating my hand and adding to the mess on the table. “Do you seriously have rabbit ears?!”
She didn’t reply though and just gave Maude a dry, tired look.
Bursting out in another loud peel of laughter, Maude clapped me on the shoulder again (which made my beer mug fly out of my hand and across the room… Damn it, I really wanted that…) and answered my question instead.
“By Yvinne’s tits, kiddo, ain’t you never seen a Lapina lass before?” She shook her head, making her green braids sway, “You ain’t from around here, that’s fer sure. This here’s Torri, a Lapina gal like I said. She’s of the half-demon-blooded, like me. She’s my assistant, helps in the kitchens and cleans the rooms.”
“Wait…” My face drained of color and I blinked, repeating what she’d just said. “Half…demon-blooded? Like you? I…you don’t…uh, we…” I stammered, unable to process any of this. Lapinas? Demons? What the fuck is going on here…and why am I not awake yet? I know I didn’t want to before but…something about this doesn’t feel like a dream.
“Yeah, kiddo, like me. Ye asked me before what I am. Me dad was from the Kregrok Ogre tribe, and me mum was a Human maid from the royal capital of Earsthall,” she said proudly, thumping her chest with a fist. “I’m a half-ogre!” She said this like it was something rare and special, but frankly, I was too dumbfounded to be amazed.
I wanted to say something witty. I wanted to pretend that none of this bothered me. Instead, you know what happened next? Well I hope you or someone else knows, because I don’t. I don’t remember anything else that afternoon, in fact, because I fainted.
Yup, you heard me. I found out later that I’d passed right out, face-down in a platter of mashed potatoes and gravy. Great first impression, right?