Drikoi

Four days. That’s how long I’ve been trapped here in this swamp. For four days I have been walking non-stop in this heat and found nothing. No sign of civilization at all.

This is infuriating. I’ve probably walked a hundred miles and still found nothing. It’s like this swamp goes on forever.

I hadn’t been idle in those four days, though, so it wasn’t completely a waste of time. I began to get used to this new body. Every time I walked, ran, swam, climbed a tree, I was learning. Learning how to move more fluidly, to act more quickly. I also noticed that my tail was essential in maintaining my balance. With it I could traverse even the thinnest of walkways, and all without much difficulty. That would have been difficult if not impossible in my other two forms.

Yet after all my searching, I could not find any sign of intelligent life. Until the fourth day, that is.

It was not yet noon when I spotted the strange sign. At least, I thought it was a sign. It was a strange, tribal sculpture of some sort. It consisted of an alligator’s skull with a whole bunch of colorful feathers surrounding it. The creation was hung up on the side of one of the larger, wider trees. I had no idea what it was meant to do, but I sure do realize what it means. Someone intelligent is nearby, maybe even an entire settlement!

I began wandering forwards once more, certain that I would find something now. What I hadn’t counted on was something finding me.

I had been in the process of crossing a river. When I got to the end of the other bank, something emerged out of the bushes. It was another lizard demon like me! Well, not exactly like me. He was a full head shorter, plus his scales were dark orange. He was also much more dressed up than I was. His loincloth was clean, for one thing, and he had various necklaces around his neck, most of them made from bone or the fangs of some great animal.

He was also armed with a spear.

Cautiously, I approached. Hopefully, this thing could talk, else we’d be stuck staring at each other all day. As I drew closer to the lizard, I heard a shuffle and three more emerged from the underbrush. They were all shorter than I was, and two of them were green while the other two were the same dusky shade of orange as the first demon. As they emerged, they aimed their spears at me.

The first lizard, who I assume was the leader, began to hiss and cluck at me in a strange, inhuman language. The strangest thing was, I could understand what he was saying!

“Halt, outsider. You venture into the territory of the Rust Shapers. What is your business here?”

What the hell? Since when did I become fluent in lizard-speak? Whatever. I needed to make a good impression on these savages so they can take me to civilization.

“Rye come in kreese,” I said.

The four lizards just looked at each other.

“I repeat,” said the leader. “State your business.”

“Rye. Come. In. Preese.” I said again, only more slowly this time. “I’m rost. I need tru find trown.”

The lizards began hissing in irritation. I don’t think they can understand me.

“He speaks the language of the thin-skinned,” said one of the green ones. “Mayhaps we should bring him to the Eldest, have him question the stranger.”

The leader thought for a moment, then nodded. “Bring him.”

The other lizards began to hiss and point the end of their spears at me threateningly. I got the message. I raised my hands up and started walking.

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At least they were bringing me to civilization. Or whatever manner of civilization these savages had, anyway.

When we reached their village about an hour later, I was impressed. The settlement was much larger than I thought it would be. The majority of their dwellings were large huts made of mud and stone, though there were a few houses made of wood. The streets were unpaved but well worn, but the best part was that they were dry. The entire village was built on a higher elevation, so there was no water anywhere. It was the largest plot of dry land I had seen in four days.

As I was lead into town, numerous curious lizardfolk poked their heads out of their dwellings to look at me. Several smaller forms of what I assume to be children stopped playing as I was escorted through. From what I could tell, I was the largest lizard here. I was also the one with the darkest scales, as everyone seemed to have lighter shades of orange, green, and red.

I also noticed a strange sight. There were many of the mud huts that seemed to be the dwellings of blacksmiths. They were busy at work, tending their forges or battering at various metals with their hammers. It was a sight I wasn’t expecting to see in a village full of savages. For one thing, where were these smiths getting all this metal from? I doubt they could dig a mine in a swamp. For another, the blacksmiths seemed to be making swords and other weapons, yet none of the lizardmen here had metal weapons.

My escorts took me to one of the larger huts in the village. The leader motioned for me to stay while he went into the hut. He disappeared for a moment before eventually reemerging with another lizard in tow. I could tell that this one was very, very old. He was gaunt and stooped very low to the ground, using a short stick as a cane to support himself. His scales were a yellow that was paled with age. The barbs and horns on his face were dull, and his eyes had a milky film over them.

Then, to my surprise, the old lizard spoke in fluent English. “Greetings, outsider. I was told that you speak only the Common tongue of the thin-skinned. Is that true?”

“Rai don’t know vat thrin-skinns are,” I told him. “Rut I spekk Engrlish.”

“My, my, what a rough pronunciation you have. Perhaps you are an escaped slave from the southern lands?” he asked.

Sure, we’ll go with that. I nodded.

The old lizard whispered something to the leader of the group that brought me. He nodded before leaving with his men. I stood back and watched them depart, slightly weary at why they left me alone with the old man.

“I apologize for the rough treatment you received, my friend,” the old lizard said. “But the warriors are a cautious lot. Know though, that Drikoi welcomes all those who escaped from the barbarians in the south.”

“Drikoi?” I asked.

“Ah, where are my manners? It is customary for the thin-skinned who raised you to introduce themselves first, is it not?”

I had no idea, but I nodded anyway.

“I am Thrishop, Eldest of the Rust Shapers. This village is Drikoi, home of the Rust Shapers.” At my confused look, he stated, “The Rust Shapers are our tribe, named so because we are skilled blacksmiths that can shape metal into weapons and other things.” He then paused, and continued to remain silent. I suddenly realized that he was waiting for me to introduce myself.

“Nero,” I choked out, finding it difficult to pronounce H’s.

“My, what a strange name,” Thrishop said. “But, I suppose it was given to you by your former masters. Anyway, let’s not dilly dally out here. Please, come inside my hut. We have much to talk about.”

I followed the old lizard into his dwelling. The inside of the mud hut was roomier than I realized, and it was filled to the brim with some interesting things. Many of them I could tell were human-made. There were books as well as maps and charts. There were also clothes along with swords and spears.

“Ah, yes. Those are keepsakes from my days as an adventurer. Ah, the folly of youth.” Thrishop chuckled as he settled down next to the fire that was burning in the middle of a hole in his hut. “Please, sit,” he said, indicating a well-worn orange rug that was next to the fire.

I sat down on the rug, making sure to keep my tail lying flat lest it get in the way of my legs.

“Now, tell me, Nero,” Thrishop said, “what are your plans for the future? What do you plan to do in this town?”

“Just prassing tru,” I said. “I vas rost. Needed tru find trown.”

“I see, I see. Well, we in Drikoi are happy to help out escapees any way we can. But we won’t do it for free. You’ll have to work alongside us if you want our help.”

Sounded fair enough. I nodded.

“Excellent,” Thrishop said. “Now, do you have any talents that can help out the town? You were a slave, did your masters teach you anything useful?”

Well, my chart did say I was proficient at smithing. “Brack shmiting.”

“Blacksmithing? My, what a wonderful coincidence! You couldn’t have chosen a better village to come to then!” Thrishop began laughing, though it sounded more like gargling coming deep from his throat. “Drikoi can always use more blacksmiths.”

And so my stay with the Rust Shapers began. Hopefully, the stay would prove to be beneficial. Either to the both of us, or just to me.