Bob Finds His New Home
The stick clacked against the rock as Bob limped down the cliffside, his body bruised and his mind weary he trudged along. The previously forested valley was no longer so welcoming, the pretender beat down on his skin, reddening it and guaranteeing peeling skin later. The trees were now dead and sparse, the ground rocky and sharp. And the sky was darkening. He needed shelter, and he needed it fast. His eyes roamed over the rocky side, hoping for an overhang or a cave, something to hide and protect him. If this world had mountain lions, it surely had other predators and Bob did not feel like meeting them.
As he searched he thought of his situation, his plight. He was away from his home, and more possibly his world with nothing but the clothes on his back. He didn't know if there were people around, or at all. That pit of dread he had felt on top of that tree loomed beneath him as his mind strayed, the thoughts of how alone he was demanding attention. But Bob refused, he had bigger things to worry about, like that neat looking cave over there.
On the other side of the canyon.
Over a raging river.
Great.
He looked around, hoping to find a path or something to cross, but in both directions he only saw the same thing. The gap was around 15 meters wide, and double that going down. Bob did not think jumping across was very probable. He started to the edge, hoping to see something below, but vertigo overtook him in a frenzy. Bob, now on his belly, peeked over the edge of the canyon. There were a few other ledges, a tree or two sticking out of them. Nothing that important- Wait a minute, trees? He looked a little closer and realized these trees were around 15 meters tall.
Uh oh… I have a bad idea.
Bob decided to take a closer look, against every fiber of his being. He saw the closest ledge and scooted towards it, he saw that he could barely reach it if he swung himself over and dropped. Bob did not think this was a good idea, Bob did it anyway. As he slowly lowered himself by his hands he felt his toes touch the ledge, excited he let go. Sadly he forgot about his foot, which had a gash in the heel. Bob's yelp echoed throughout the canyon, as he gripped onto the rock wall tightly. His face beet red from the pain and his hands in a death grip he slowly scooched along the edge towards one of the trees. Luckily this part went relatively smoothly, and he reached it without problems, just pain.
Bob examined the roots of the tree and whooped! He had thought they looked precarious, he was right. The roots, barely hanging onto the ledge, held down a thick maple tree about 15 meters tall. I bet with a little leverage I can get this tree to tip, I can use my- Bob had forgotten his walking stick. Bob was very annoyed.
After 10 more minutes of pain and terror, Bob had his walking stick. He jammed it in between the ledge and the roots, and began to push. The tree creaked, the roots loosened, and then the rocks crumbled. Goddammit… Bob grabbed onto the rocks as the tree fell like a lightning bolt, the roots ripping out of the rock, sadly weakening their stability. The tree fell about 3 meters down, and wedged itself between either side of the canyon. The rocks beneath Bob also fell that far, leaving Bob hanging by a tiny ledge.
Bob's feet dangled in the air, as his knuckles slid, Bob was never very good at pull ups, so his only way out was down. In a split second Bob examined the trajectories, the angles and where he wanted to land. Then… he winged it. Bob fell hard, his shins scraping along the wall as he fell, he did manage to hit his target though. His feet, both of them, hit the tree. Bob did not yelp, Bob screamed. He gripped a branch, holding on desperately and pulled himself up, the tree wobbled but didn't fall. Success… I guess. He crawled his way across branch by branch and with a little difficulty made it across.
This ledge was wide and stable, and as Bob hobbled, now without his walking stick, he approached a round cave on the side of the cliff. He leaned against the entrance, peering in. He could not see the end, this was good, it meant safety. It also meant darkness. Bob sighed and trudged in, letting the wall support his walk. As he went deeper he was astonished, This cave is amazing! The walls were wide, the ceiling tall. Even the floor was flat. His foot knocked something away, and he looked down to see a thick stick, with the top covered in cloth.
Normally Bob would be thrilled, this was a torch! But Bob also realized that something, or someone made that torch.
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Bob's wide eyes peered into the dark as his ears strained.
Nothing.
He reached down for the torch, and his hands came back covered in dust. Thank god. He hoped this place had been abandoned for a while, but for right now he was happy that no one was here now. He lifted the torch and examined it, the cloth was a hide, and the torch was crude. Now to light it. He searched the ground and felt with his hands when it was too dark, he found a few stones. He brought them outside and found one of them to be flint. Thank you mysterious strangers! He held the torch down and clacked the rocks together, a spark emerged. The torch blazed to life, and with that fire was born!
Bob began down the tunnel, and his fancy new torch illuminated the cave. The ground was covered in what used to be things, pieces of wood that resembled dolls, but… Odd. hides and sticks, all seeming to have foreign purpose. He walked further and found deeper in there were paintings along the walls, they were crude but discernible. They depicted strange people in a village, holding spears and axes. They were unnaturally short in the paintings and their skin was gray. Maybe they didn't have the right color? But Bob didn’t really believe that, he knew that these creatures. These people were not human. Every little thing in the cave made sense, but was off, almost as if another species had come to the same conclusion in a different way.
The torch crackled as Bob moved between the walls, the next one showing a different village, with tall lanky people living in trees and growing crops. But the strangest thing is that they had pointed ears. Holy shit, these are elves. Looking back at the previous paintings he noticed their ears were also strange, floppy almost. The pit of dread came back, looming before him. These were not humans. These were aliens. Well this is fucked. In a daze Bob limped down the cave, seeing a story began to emerge from the paintings.
These villages lived in ignorance of each other, one living in the plains and the other living in the forests. Ironically it appeared as if the smaller creatures lived in the forest, I guess stereotypes should be ignored for now. Then the Elves began expanding, creating cities and military forts. This is when other creatures appeared in the paintings, short and wide people with flowing beards and blocky armor. Dwarves. Normal humans also appeared as well, this is when the expansion really took off. Ships filled with goods were depicted arriving at villages. The elves would trade glowing berries and fruits in exchange for gold and supplies.
Then the pictures started showing Magic. An Elf shining golden light on a human farmer's crops, a dwarf with hands clad in fire melding metal and stone. How did these creatures know all this? The next wall returned to the small creatures, showing them in the woods hunting and sitting around a fire. An old creature towered over them, holding a barrier around the creatures. The Elves were depicted looking at them, but not seeing them. They were invisible! The creatures, in their bubbles, watched and listened to the cities and towns.
These people would then be shown surrounding the old one, speaking animatedly. The old one would then speak to a child, they appeared to be wearing similar garments. Master and apprentice. Wonder if they would teach a human? Bob unintentionally smiled at the idea of learning magic. Then the paintings became more… urgent. The previous flowing lines and attention to detail, became hurried and messy. The creatures were shown being chased by groups of Elves and Humans, a few of them being skewered by spears. The group was then shown surrounding the creatures, and the old one was on their knees, begging almost. The next wall showed the human raising a sword and the old one raising their hands, lightning arcing through the group.
I want that. The creatures fled then, to a mountain range where a tunnel appeared showing a picture on the- That's here! They fled here! The creatures then put a boulder at the entrance, sealing them in. These were painted after they fled. Where'd they go? Bob went to the next wall and found it empty, he followed the cave desperate for answers but all he found was a dead end blocked off by a large boulder. Bob followed the other side of the cave, hoping but not believing he would find another painting. He found a few other passages, but nothing he felt like exploring. Who knows how large this place is, it held a whole civilization. As Bob reached the entrance where he began, he saw that the pretender was almost set.
Guess it's bedtime. Bob walked back in the cave, far enough not to see the sun and found a hide laid out on the ground. He blew out his torch and layed down, slowly drifting to sleep.
Morrell
Morrell ran through the bushes, his feet making no sound as he dashed through the forest. He heard it getting closer, a growl vibrating through the woods as its heavy paws thumped after him. Despite his circumstances, Morrell wasn't very worried, the technique he was using almost guaranteeing that he would be faster than any animal in these woods.
A murmur under his breath was the only sound made, “almost there…” he began to slow as he heard no sign of his pursuer. The pack on his back was heavy and his legs slightly tired so he decided to get some sleep, he climbed a nearby tree and found a sturdy branch. He tied himself to the branch, and secured his pack next to him. With that he laid back and closed his eyes. Tomorrow I'll reach the cave, and with that I can finally come home.