Chapter 3: Seed-Sister

Naomi was carried into the creature’s village. Rows of huts with smoke coming out of makeshift chimneys could be seen as she moved through the rows of clay structures. There was a surprising amount of order and thought put into the placement of each of the huts as she noticed the rows were in near perfect lines and evenly spaced between each other.

The structures themselves were tan and had no windows on any side of the square shaped buildings. Each stood at roughly four meters in height and five meters wider, almost in perfect uniformity to the next.

As she moved past the rows of structures, she saw other residents of the village standing outside their huts. Some were sitting on wooden crates over a makeshift table of wood while eating what appeared to be yellow or orange berries. Others were leaning against the huts while watching Naomi with curiosity in their snake-like eyes as she moved through their village.

While her captors stood at a towering 7’ in height, the other villagers varied in stature and didn’t sport the same cloak and hood as Beha and his companions.

Most of the residents wore tanned leather straps crossed over their torsos and a matching tan loincloth to cover their modesty.

The females of the village wore near-identical attire, except with a thin fabric over their leather chest straps. The men of the village were all bald but came in an array of different shades of pale skin color. Some were paler than others, while some had the faintest shade of blue on their skin.

With their heads exposed, Naomi could see the full display of their facial features. Each male was bald with the same pointed nose and orange eyes as Beha and his company, but also had pointed long ears on either side of their head. The ears ended in a sharp point and were lined with various metal hoop piercings on each side.

The females of the tribe were leaner than the males but had clear muscle definition on their arms and chests. The leather straps held their chests while letting their arms move freely without issue. Rather than matching bald heads, each female had different hair colors and styles among their number. Some had long dark hair that flowed freely down their backs, while others kept theirs in a tight bun at the top of their head.

While the males looked at Naomi with hunger or curiosity, the females leered at her with anger and disdain.

Naomi watched on as the several clusters of females whispered at her passing, some snapping different types of root vegetable with loud punctuation as they made eye contact.

As they came closer to the bonfire at the center of the village, Naomi looked to the side of the fire and saw a row of women hanging from individual standing wooden poles that had a metal hook at the top. Naomi counted fifteen women, each bound at the hands and hooked by their rope binds next to the bonfire.

When Beha arrived at an empty pole next to the group of women, he turned to face Viron, the third captor of the group.

Viron took the que and raised her hands to bring the rope over the hook at the top of the pole and let her dangle in front of the gathering crowd.

She looked over at the women next to her, some still unconscious while others darting their eyes between the various members of the tribe.

Naomi looked down to look at the ground beneath her feet and chuckled to herself. She noticed that she only had one slipper still clinging for dear life to her left foot while the other fell off God knows when during this whole debacle. Even though she had be kidnapped, knocked out, and dragged to an unknown land by unknown creatures, the fact that there was only one slipper left leaving her feet unevenly dressed was the first thought she had since been strung up.

Really, Naomi? Because this is totally the time for uniformity. Fucking OCD.

Her jacket and black work pants she threw on before her unexpected adventure had survived thus far. She was at least glad she had some semblance of herself in this situation, but it was a small reprieve given that she was about to be gutted like a fish.

She looked up and noticed that it had become darker in the sky. She was able to look over the top of a row of huts and through the trees to see a faint glow in the distance. There were dark figures moving in the light, and she noticed that more lights spread around the woods in each direction she looked.

“D—do you know where we are?” the blonde girl next to her asked.

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Naomi turned to face her and saw that she had a large cut on her forehead and her workout clothes had been muddied up by the forest floor. She was bleeding slowly from the untreated cut, and her eyes were glazed over barely registering as conscious.

Before Naomi could answer, the girl’s head slumped, and she was out like a light.

Her captors were mingling with other creatures as Naomi waited. Hours went by as she awaited her fate at the hands of these creatures.

She closed her eyes while she waited, if anything she could at least avoid looking at the massive bonfire and gathering monsters before her and try to go to her happy place.

After an unknown period of time, she remembered what she thought was just a hallucination when she came through the wall of magic.

She focused and tried to remember what the words on the transparent screen said, hoping that repeating it in her head over and over would make the screen appear and at least give her something to take her mind off everything.

What the fuck was it? Magic – GO!

Her internal command did nothing.

UGH. Stupid…wait. What did that thing say? Something about a class? I remember thinking it was such a basic title and would be boring to play…

OH –

The moment she remembered; a screen appeared in her vision.

Name: Naomi Salazar

Class: None

Birth Class: Priest

HP: 95/140

Mana: 100/100

Stamina: 34/100

Level: 1

Available Abilities: 2

Ability: Healing Touch:

You have a connection to all things holy. Physical contact with an ally will heal them if the connection is uninterrupted or until you are out of mana. Current cost: 5 mana/second .

Ability: Holy Arc:

The forces of light lend you their power. Cast a arc of light to burn through your enemies and heal your allies.

Cost: 15 mana/cast

Ok…healer. That’s…not helpful at all this.

She looked over her abilities again and thought about how they could help her.

A sudden gravelly voice spoke in her ear.

“Smells weak.” The voice whispered.

Naomi opened her eyes and saw that one of the monsters had come to supposedly inspect her.

“How can this make any new warriors? Tiny, scared, and smells NOTHING of strength!” he shouted.

The creature was taller than even Naomi’s captors and stood right at eye level with Naomi despite her being slung over a hook on a taller pole.

“Trolls can be made no matter the brood mare. What matters is the seed, not the carrier”. A hunched over troll walked through the crowd. His presence parted the growing number of trolls as he walked by. He gripped what looked like a branch of petrified wood. The top brandished a large green stone that was wrapped by the knotting wood around it.

As he passed the group of trolls that formed around the bonfire, the others began to kneel before him.

The larger troll next to Naomi took a glance at her and snorted. He slowly knelt to the approaching elder.

“The hunt has returned. We may proceed.” boomed the hunched troll while raising his staff.

The elder wore a long, dark robe. While the other trolls all had what appeared to be homemade leather straps or cloaks, his clothing looked to be made for royalty. Thin green lines ran along the ends of the robe, and a long silver chain hung around his neck. At the end was what looked like a silver triangle with tiny etchings that glowed faintly in the darkness. The runes looked unfamiliar to Naomi, and she didn’t even attempt to decipher them.

The elder looked across the dozens of trolls kneeling towards him and nodded.

“Kal’ Aaht, we are blessed and chosen by the gods to have these tributes today. The door has opened in our lands, and the treasures beyond are OURS for the taking”. Despite being a supposed geriatric, the troll’s voice boomed across the crowd and shook the air as he spoke.

He turned and gestured across the women hanging behind him. “These are the fruits of our Hunt’s labor. They have brought us these creatures for us to choose what to do with. Are we to feast, or are we to grow?” He brought his hand to his side and lowered his head in thought.

“Our clan has suffered of late, and we cannot deny the shortage of soldiers has brought misfortune to us. Fewer men to hunt, fewer women to bear children. We cast out Unthor as the traitor deserved, and yet he took several of our clansmen with him. We cannot allow our clan to die out because of one troll.” He raised his gaze to the bonfire.

“As clan elder, I may suggest, but I cannot decide without approval from everyone. Heed my words.” He turned to a small group of women trolls kneeling next to a hut.

“Your mates would not be taking on new ones, but giving our clan a clutch of new life that it needs to survive. The other clans outnumber ours by no small number.” The group of females looked to the ground, tears welling in their eyes.

“To feast on your entire crop in a day is to doom yourself to starvation in the next. Let us sow the seeds of the future. I say, breed!”

He raised his staff in the air.

Sounds of approval came from the kneeling crowd, some of them men smiling while others shaking their heads in disapproval.

Naomi was shaking, eyes wide with an endless pit of fear in her stomach as she watched the elder decide her fate before her.

The elder kept his staff raised, as two trolls before him stood. Then two more. Then five. More and more stood, nodding in approval.

As they stood and began shouting sounds of approval, a blur of silver flung passed Naomi’s vision.

The next sensation she felt was dirt hitting her as she fell from the pole she was strung up on.

She winced at the pain from her fall and looked up to see where the elder had been standing. His staff was right in front of Naomi, with a green three-fingered hand still gripping it.

Blood shot from the stump that was left after his arm was severed, and screams erupted from the crowd.

Trolls rampaged around her, running and kicking up dust in her face as she continued to lay on the ground in confusion.