Emma knew she was dying. The doctors had said there was a small chance of recovery, but that was weeks ago. She had ignored the signs for so long, always finding a reason to reschedule the checkup, that the cancer in her lungs had grown and metastasized. They had tried every treatment they had, but nothing seemed to work. Now, she was lying on a hospital bed, with her family around her.
After many heartfelt goodbyes and speeches about how much she meant to them, they promised to stay by her side until it was over. During the night, Emma Williams passed away peacefully in her sleep.
… And then woke up once again. But not in the hospital, her home, or even in her own body. She found herself looking up at a large frog-like creature with clouded eyes. In her shock, she tried to strike him but found her limbs to be sorely lacking in the length department. As she stared at her brightly colored skin, something dawned on her.
This looks familiar. Green skin, large eyes, hunched posture, weird spiky things on its back. Was that a murloc? Wait, am I a murloc?
As Emma was lost in thought, they had reached the main village. It was dinner time, and one of the tidehunters had managed to kill an adult shark. The less successful foragers and huntsmen added the small fish and fruits they had found to the pile and started to eat. As they ate, one of them noticed the elder and called out to him.
“Elder, what do you have there?”
Another murloc turned around to speak to the elder. “Please say it’s a crab, I love the taste of those things.”
“No it is not a crab, and she is not food. This is the newest member of the Redfin tribe. The little one hatched just now, I believe from Brglle’s egg. Do you know where she is? She has to give this tadpole a name.”
“Brglle’s been busy decorating her new hut. Said she found a fancy shell and wanted to find the perfect spot for it. Hasn’t come out in a couple of hours.”
The elder sighs. “Honestly, I do not get what you young’uns see in those shells. Bone is a much better material to work with, and more durable too. Plus a good, intact skull proves your martial prowess.”
The first murloc shrugs. “Bone’s too bland, no real color or anything. But that doesn’t matter right now. Here, I caught a few baby shrimp. Didn’t know what I was gonna do with them, they were too small for the pile. Thought I’d maybe keep them as snacks, but they’ll be perfect for the tadpole.”
“Thank you Gurgklr, that saves me the trouble of digging through the pile for something she won't choke on. Save me some berries, would you? They are always gone before I arrive.”
As the elder took the shrimp and started to walk over to Brglle’s house, Emma found herself confused. She heard everything that was said, but it didn’t sound like any language she was familiar with. It was guttural, and lacking in vowels. But even though she couldn’t understand it, the noises sounded familiar. It brought her back to her younger years when she was in college. Specifically, to a game she played during that time, World of Warcraft.
Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.
Emma was never super into computer games, she preferred sitting on a couch with her friends and playing multiplayer on a console. But when over half her friend group started playing this new mmo, she caved and bought a copy. It was fun for a while, but around level 50 it started to get boring for her. She enjoyed the early leveling experience, and would often make new characters to try out different classes.
One of the most memorable things about World of Warcraft for her was a common enemy called the murloc. They were these fishmen that were in lower-level zones, and they would run around making these funny noises. She had spent a good hour one night with her friends imitating them and running around Stormwind. Those were good memories. And useful ones too, because it seems she had somehow been turned into one of those murlocs.
How did this even happen? Did they put my brain in a VR machine after I died or something? But this feels real, and I’m pretty sure I was dead for a bit there. You know what, I’m calling it now. This is some magic bullshit.
Passing the large group of feasting murlocs, the elder, and by extension, Emma, moved towards one of the larger huts in the village.
The hut was raised above the beach on stilts, with a small ladder of planks attached to the side. Straw and tall weeds formed the room, while the walls were made from driftwood and tree bark tied together with rope. The whole structure, and especially the sole entrance, was ramshackle.
Man, OSHA would have a field day with these guys. I can see at least five holes in the wall, and that ladder is definitely not wheelchair accessible.
Once they entered the interior, Emma’s frankly low opinion of the owner changed. In stark contrast to the bare bones exterior, the single room was decorated from floor to ceiling. Colorful stones, shells of various sea creatures, and entire skeletons of different fish and aquatic life were assembled and tied together with string. Across from the entrance, there stood a slab of wood with intricate carvings on it, depicting what looked to be a murloc bowing to a shark eating a smaller shark, who was, in turn, eating a smaller murloc.
Aside from the decorations, the furniture was sparse. A small bed of straw was placed in a corner, and a stack of stones with a plank of wood resting on top was acting as a table. Although most of the tabletop acted as display space for smaller decorations.
Sitting in the middle of the room there was a larger murloc studying a spotted shell. The elder called out, breaking its concentration.
“Stop staring at that shell Brglle, I’ve got something more important for you to see.”
“Hello Mrgglr, I’m a bit busy right now to look at whatever bone caught your fancy today. I’ve been trying to find the perfect place for this shell. I can’t decide if I want it to be the first thing people see when they enter or place it beside my bed so I wake up to it every morni…”
As she was speaking, Mrgglr sat beside her and slowly moved the baby murloc into her arms. As he did, she stopped her speech to look at the tadpole.
“Is this… is it mine? Did my egg hatch?”
“I believe so, yes.”
She leaned in closer, and after a couple of seconds, a wide smile formed on her face. “My first tadpole! You have the family eyes. I name you Brgllrm in honor of my mother, Brgllrgllrm.”
“That is a wise name Brglle. I am certain your mother’s spirit would be honored. But it is feeding time, and the pile is quickly diminishing. You should come out and join the tribe. You missed it the last 3 days, some in the tribe are getting worried.”
Brglle looked at Mrgglr and laughed. “Some he says. You never could admit you worry about me.”
The elder Murloc turned his head away from Brglle’s sight. “My statement was not untrue.”
Shaking her head and lifting Brgllgllrm in her arms, Brglle exited her hut. “I hope there’s some crab in the pile. I always loved crab legs, and their shells make great decorations.”
As they left the hut, a thought entered Emma’s, now Brgllgllrm’s, mind. What is it with these guys and crabs?