With the fading bleariness of an interrupted nap, Grugg looked down at his hands with his one central eye. Blood. He blinked several times, but the bright red smears remained. This was unusual - as was the strange smell that filled the air; a mix of burned ozone and singed cloth. Slowly, he lowered his hands to his side and tried to process what was now before him. Just before him, near the entrance to his mountainside cave, a figure lay sprawled out motionless and mangled. With a weighty thud, Grugg sat on the cold stone floor beside the body and tried to recall what had just happened.

He had spent the day chasing down some much needed nourishment. After scaring off a group of mountain goats for the third time that day, he returned to his cave in resignation; the meagre amount of fruit collected (and already eaten) would have to do for his complaining stomach. Exhausted from his exercise, he had taken the opportunity to nap. The goats had followed him into his dream, not content enough to taunt him in the waking world, but still managed to elude his grasp – this time mocking him with strange bipedal dances and fancy hats.

As they had lept and weaved away from his lethargic lunges, one of the goats with a silly wizard hat and long gray beard had just been slightly too slow. With a noise that half startled him from his rest, he grabbed the goat in both large hands – a somewhat satisfying crunch as he captured his quarry. But then the light of day faded into his consciousness, and now he dwelled over the bloodied character that lay slain before him. A human male with a long scraggly beard and wild eyes bulging from his wrinkled face. His long red robes were now stained dark brown in large patches from the injuries he had sustained—the injuries inflicted by Grugg. The strange crackling energy lingering around the body gave him reason to believe that the dream interrupter was a wizard.

The cyclops sat with an uncomfortable lump in his stomach. Grugg felt bad, and although he was not usually so sympathetic to the frailty of mankind, there was something about the wizard that made him remorseful. He couldn't imagine being so bony and weak; the wizard would hardly be worth eating even. Not that he would consider the man a meal, all things considered, sticking his tongue out in disgust. If the man was indeed a magic user, then the human would upset his stomach and might even be dangerous to eat or cook. He would have to go outside and move him down the mountainside, let the noisy wolves have him. With a sigh, the cyclops stood and wiped his bloody hands off on his leather kilt. Shame, though. He was still hungry, having not been able to secure a good amount of meat for a couple of days. With one massive hand, he grabbed the corpse by the collar of the robe and dragged it to the cave entrance.

It was a short walk to the opening, the dim light of the setting sun illuminating the entrance with a washed-out grayish tone. Grugg put his free hand over his eye to get a better view outside. Some dark clouds were making their way over the peaks, and if there was one thing Grugg had a stronger distaste for more than magic, it was rain. He paused at the maw of his cave, looking out to the shadowed trees and glints of outcropped rocks below, now all gently peppered by the chill Autumn rainfall as the looming clouds made good on their promise to annoy him. After a brief minute of reflection, Grugg shrugged. Then, without ceremony, he launched the limp body into the air in the vague direction of down-mountain. He watched it disappear out of sight, the sound of breaking twigs and shuffled leaves echoing from far away.

"Bye, stinky man," Grugg muttered to himself, eyeing up the darkening clouds, the rain persisting in falling despite his evident displeasure.

He returned to the interior of the roughly hewn cave. Perhaps he should install some kind of trap for the future. Or a door. However, he wasn't a great carpenter, as evidenced by the ramshackle assortment of furniture his abode sported. A cracked boulder chair that was angled diagonally, his bed merely a few mismatched logs tied together, and shelving that was just whatever piece of wood or metal that he could brute force into staying put in the stone cavern wall. Function over form. He had found the abandoned cauldron a few years back and still had a couple of wooden crates that had only half deteriorated for storing food and tools. Aside from the necessities, he had few possessions.

Most favored of them all, naturally, was his club. More by luck than by craftsmanship, he had come across an almost perfectly sized and shaped log of a weird green tree that grew in a secluded part of the mountain. It had been further augmented when he accidentally got the end stuck in a metal pot. Over time it had become fused and embedded into the club, giving it a hard metal cap. Not only increasing the amount of wear the club could take but also it made an amusing sound when striking certain things. So he had named it Thud. Right now, Thud lay propped up against the wall where Grugg had been napping. As he stepped over to retrieve it, thoughts of the lack of food back on his mind, he noticed something by the small pool of blood on the floor.

The cyclops kneeled, one hand clasped quizzically on his chin, and squinted. Whilst he could see reasonably well in the dim light of his cave, an unknown object left by the wizard could be something stinky with magic, and he would be taking no chances. He gave it a cautionary prod with his finger, and it flopped over, limp at the peak. Oh, it was one of those pointy hats. Gripping it by the tip, Grugg lifted the offending item off the damp floor to get a better look at it. It was by no means a fancy hat, a darkish red-brown with a broad brim and cone-shaped peak as typically worn by magic users for a reason that escaped the cyclops. He turned it slowly, as if it was about to explode or turn into a frog at any moment. A gray band of silk sat circled above the brim, sporting a small tarnished silver brooch of some kind at the forefront.

Grugg never cared much for such things as hats; he had tried making one out of leather before, and it kept falling over his eye. The scar on his knee from falling off that outcrop is a present reminder of that particular failed endeavor. Still, he found himself rubbing his bald head in curious anticipation. Surely, with the little brim, it would keep out of his eye - and better yet, offer him some protection from the cursed rain. The idle thoughts got the better of him, and standing back up, he carried the hat back to the cave entrance. The rain had picked up a little, and although gentle, it was persistent. Grugg took a few moments to grimace animatedly, showing his objection to the precipitation as he stood at the cave opening. Then, taking the hat in both handles and carefully aligning the broach facing forward, he placed the wizard's hat upon his head and took a step outside into the rain.

Uh, not so bad, he thought, still somewhat miserable and uncomfortable. It will at least block the rain fro-

[Oh, you miserable oaf, you halfwit brute!]

Grugg spun around at the sound of the voice, expecting to see someone just behind him. But there was no one. He twisted back and strained his eye in focus, but scanning the local surroundings in the encroaching nightfall was difficult. As he started to step backward into his cave, his jaw clenched tight. He needed Thud.

[Yeah, you best look out, because I will wreak vengeance upon you!]

He turned and immediately dashed back inside, the heavy thumps of his bare feet on the cave's damp, muddy rock surface echoing dully. Panic and anger flared up inside him - it must be that wizard's doing. Did the stinky intruder actually survive and was coming back to get him? He grabbed Thud from where it lay and flattened his back against the wall facing towards the entrance, holding the large club in both hands.

[That won't help you, unless - oh, can you even understand what I am saying? Perhaps we should start there.]

The voice ringing in Grugg's ears was male and educated sounding, with an accent he was unfamiliar with. Some of the words used he was unfamiliar with, too. It was precisely what the cyclops imagined an untrustworthy, dangerous wizard to sound like. He was not the best speaker of the Common language, but he understood the threatening voice well enough.

"Uh, s-show y'self," he grunted, his electric-blue eye darting around every shadow and nook of his home, trying to pick something out of place. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, but he was starting to get paranoid and tightened his grip on Thud. It would only take a brief moment for danger to appear; magic types always had weird tricks they could spring on you, and they weren't to be underestimated.

[Splendid, so you can understand me. I don't speak Giant, I'm afraid.]

Confusion spread across the round face of the cyclops. Grugg had moved from the rain outside to the safety inside his home, and the voice was just as close to him, without seeing or hearing anyone moving. The number of possibilities he could imagine explaining it were few, but the chill of unknowing still crept down his spine.

"Is voice a ghost?" Being haunted would definitely top rain for things he most hated, if all these words were what being haunted would entail.

[No. Not quite. I am the wizard of great renown, Barthélemy Béraud! To whom do I have the misfortune of talking to?]

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

"Um, Grugg… the uh mountain cyclops, that made wizard dead" He resisted the urge to bow, instead just awkwardly nodding. He wasn't much for polite sensibilities by nature, but being possessed by a big-headed wizard made him hedge his bets.

[I am aware,] the voice came dryly, [and I must say, it is quite an inconvenience.]

It was unusual to Grugg for a conflict to linger without having to resort to physical violence by now, and the cyclops was caught off guard by the casual nature of the wizard. If he had planned to blast him with arcane energy or torment him with a ghostly haunting, he was certainly being blasé about it. Thud lowered to the ground as the initial panicked adrenaline tapered off.

"So, where is wizard?" As much as he was reluctant to let his guard down but there was no use fighting something he couldn't see - especially when they used such long words.

[Well, this is quite the - oh, I am not really able to smile anymore, so just imagine me, if you will, with a devious and charismatic smirk on my face as we approach this subject. Also, imagine me a little taller and more athletic whilst you are at it… and less… crushed to death.]

Grugg remained standing unmoving and blinked slowly, the silence settling in the cave for a moment with only the brief rustle of leaves in the breeze outside casting contrast against the drum of his heart beating in his ears. Eventually, after having worn out the patience of the voice, it continued.

[Eh, you're no fun. I had a fail-safe enchantment to cast my conscious mind, spirit willing, into an affable and slightly less mortally challenged vessel - however, during the process, it seems my spell-wrought machinations erred on the side of mishap, and I have found myself is this position.]

Being haunted was definitely way, way worse than the rain. For now, he felt he would be doomed to be talked to death until his brain turned to mush. The end was coming; he could feel the unavoidable course had been set already. Maybe it would be better just to accept it; with his one eye closed, he waited for the final blow, one last criminally and overly verbose sentence to bring him to that great mountain in the sky where his forefathers now resided in spirit.

[…so I'm inside the hat - okay?]

Grugg didn't even acknowledge the begrudgingly concerned tone of the disembodied wizard; no sooner as the words had settled in his brain, his left hand shot up to grab the cursed hat off his head. It wouldn't budge. He pulled on it harder and then, even after dropping Thud, tried again with both hands. Veins bulged in his tree trunk arms as he strained against the apparent suction of the hat to his noggin. But it was no use. Defeated, he slumped to the floor, his labored breathing almost as heavy as the scowl that paired it.

"Why won't hat get off Grugg's 'ead?" He sat with gritted teeth, hands balled into fists, frustrated at his inability to fix yet another problem with brute strength. Unfortunately, there had been far too much of that today.

[Ah, I am afraid, my dear Grugg, that we are now magically joined. In a way, you are my host - which is how I am able to telepathically speak with you. Thankfully perhaps, I cannot read your mind though, rest assured.]

"So," Grugg began, the slow, rocky puzzle starting to clunk into place in his head, "If the spell had worked, wizard would now be Grugg?"

The voice now came at a slight pause, as though the wizard was reluctant to admit to this part of the information, despite his previous eagerness to grandstand.

[Essentially, yes.]

"So where would Grugg go?"

[Ah, well, I had an enchanted flask on my person to contain, uh, Grugg.]

"Grugg would be flask. But now, wizard is hat." This was a concluding statement that was a lot for the cyclops to process. He tried to imagine what it would be like to be a flask. He wouldn't be able to hold Thud, or scratch up against his favorite tree, or eat rabbit stew. With thoughts wandering to the corpse now halfway down the mountain, he realized it must be just as miserable to the wizard being a hat too. "I'm sorry, Hat; I didn't mean to crush you."

[My name is Barthélemy, but… thank you. I imagine you didn't expect an intruder just as much as I didn't expect to stumble into the home of an ogre.]

"Cyclops. Only got one eye," he pointed at his eye before having a spark of thought. "Ay, Hat, can you even see?"

[Barthélemy! As it so happens, I also have one eye too, so yes.]

Grugg stood up and lumbered over to his washbasin, a large upturned shell perched atop some stones. Glancing down at the reflection in the water, he could see the verbose hat sitting on his head. On the silver broach emblazoned on the red silk ribbon, he could just about make out the engraving in the dim light. It admittedly did resemble an eye. An ornate and decorative eye, no doubt, but it reminded him of himself in a way. A wide grin now reflected in the basin of water.

[Yes, very good. So I can hear, and I can see what you see for the most part. And I can talk into your head directly, but that is as good as it gets, I think.]

Grugg wandered over to his main living area and sat on the edge of his wooden log bed. This had been quite an exhausting day. In trying to live a nice solitary life away from his tribe and any civilization, he had now been immutably entwined with a wizard—or at least the mouthy part of one.

"Hat, why was wizard on mountain?" It was a reasonable question; being so isolated, it was quite a fluke for his sleep to be interrupted by a human intruder. And there wasn't much in terms of resources or beautiful vistas up this high that would draw folk up. It was part of the reason he had chosen it to be his home.

[It's not Hat, it's - so I was not supposed to be this side of the mountain—a slight miscalculation. I am not sure how familiar you are with the area, but there is supposed to be a temple-]

"Yeah, Grugg knows it; is place where yeti live." He had been there once or twice. Once by accident, the second time to settle a score. The yeti that lived there were of unpleasant temperament and territorial. Whilst they were smaller than Grugg by a good foot, and of much slighter build, the hairier humanoids liked to live in big tribal groups. Once Thud had met a couple of their nosey scouts; they had learned to stay on their side of the mountain.

[In that temple there is an artefact that I must recover; to assist me in solving a heinous murder!]

Grugg didn't have much to say in response. He didn't know if the yeti had any such item amongst their filth and bones up there, and he didn't know how you'd murder someone in, or perhaps with, their 'heinous'. His stomach growled to fill the gap in the conversation. All the energy his brain had been using in making sense of the situation had made him extra hungry. Perhaps throwing away the wizard's corpse had been a mistake.

[Say, Grugg, would you be able to help me complete my quest?]

"What does Grugg get?" He shrugged, grunting flatly. His singular eye trailed around the room for something he could eat. Perhaps the wizard would judge him if he started gnawing at the wood on the end of his bed, although he wasn't sure if he cared either way.

[Ah, so that's the great part about our partnership. All the money, all the fame, all the… food? It's all yours! I just want answers.]

The rain had increased in intensity now and could be heard clearly from down by the cave entrance, the pattering noise reverberating around the hollowed-out space. The gloomy clouds assisted with making the late evening darken and obscured before the two moons could otherwise be seen. Grugg sat in the darkness as the wizard paused for his response. Money and fame; two things he didn't have much care for. Food, however…

"What about when get trinket from yeti?"

[We would need to go down to the nearest town - Helpart. I have a contact there that I need some information from.]

This part gave the cyclops cause for concern. He had been to Helpart once in his youth when he had first adventured to the mountain to settle and had been pretty much chased out due to his appearance. Being a few heads taller and much wider than most of the humanoids in the town, those few who didn't take issue with him purely on looks soon grew wary of his, uh, bold personality. Solitude had matured him somewhat, but he was still a brute at heart and had the destructive reputation of his brethren to overcome before being tolerated in society.

[I can tell you are worried - but I think I will do the talking for both of us in situations that don't require your…talents.]

"So Hat hear, tell Grugg what say?" Easy enough, the cyclops thought, nodding to himself. That way, he didn't need to use so much of his own brain, and he wouldn't die a mushy brain death from overthinking. Plus, if he could rustle up enough charisma to not be ostracized, he would get lots of town food, he reminded himself, thinking back to the short time in the small valley town. The smaller folk may be weak and talk too much, but the variety of food and cooking skills they had was mouth-watering. He brushed the drool from his mouth across his forearm.

[I suggest we focus on tomorrow for now. If you are prepared, then we can go to the temple in the morning to retrieve the artefact.]

"Hmm, Thud has been sad lately. We agree to help."

[Thud?…]

"Goodnight, Hat." Grugg laid down and rolled onto his side, pulling an awkwardly shaped fur shawl over himself.

[It's not Hat… it's… oh gods, this is my life now…]

The darkness of night fell over the mountain and with it, silence.

Somewhere in the valley below, a group of hooded figures carried a mangled corpse through the rain-soaked woods.