“This really isn’t the best way to go, you know,” Thet said.

“I don’t care what you think, you little devil!” Lucinn said. “I want to go this way.”

Thet clucked his tiny tongue. “I wish you could see me as an asset, Lucinn. It will go so much better for you.”

Lucinn stopped and turned his head as best as he could to see the little creature adhered to his back. It was so disgusting. Slimy bright red skin with long thin arms wrapped around his collar bone, and legs wrapped around his torso. Its walnut sized pitch black eyes blinked at him while its tall pointed ears twitched about. “Look—”

“I am looking,” Thet interrupted.

“JUST—” he started to scream, but the creature squeezed Lucinn in fear and took the wind out of Lucinn’s lungs. It had happened a dozen times already this morning, so he knew to simply relax and then Thet would let up. And it did.

“Please,” Lucinn started again. “Just let me speak, and just listen.”

“Go ahead,” Thet said.

Lucinn took a breath. “You will never be an asset to me. You are a parasite—”

Thet shook his little head, his long pointy nose tickling the back of Lucinn’s head. “That’s not an accurate term to use for me—”

“Please,” Lucinn begged. “Stop talking.”

Thet emitted a tiny huff.

“Whatever you think you are, you need to remember one thing: you are not in charge. You go where I go.”

“Of course I do,” Thet laughed.

“So stop telling me where to go.”

“But I know where you’re going, and there is a better way. A safer way. This path we’re on takes us through a pride of Muirocks and they’ll eat you for lunch. Me, they’ll spit me out, I’ll be fine. I’m just looking out for you, Lucinn.”

Lucinn paused, then asked. “There’s really danger ahead?”

“Yes, you should turn left right here and we’ll follow the brook down to the valley.”
Lucinn sighed, then turned left and started walking. After three steps he tripped on a hidden vine and fell onto his stomach.

“Wee hee!” Thet squealed. “You sure fell for that!”

“Ugh, you devil!”

(The word prompt today was “Little.”)

[– 31 Fantasy Characters in 31 Days –]

“Bac tilak!” the man sitting next to Caerwulf said again.

Caerwulf just shrugged. “I don’t speak your language.”

“Bac! Bac! Tilak!” the other shouted, and shoved Caerwulf away.

“He wants you to move,” said a voice four or five people away.

“Well, wouldn’t that be nice?” Caerwulf said sarcastically. He turned to the man who shoved him. “And where exactly would you like me to go, huh?” He rattled his chains in swooping motions for emphasis, which moved the chains and the arms of his neighbors as well. “We’re not going anywhere, you fool.”

The man mumbled something in his unknown language and tried to lean away from Caerwulf. Caerwulf glared at him then turned back to the only one he could converse with.

“How’d they get you?” Caerwulf asked him.

“Same way they get all of us,” the man began. “Marched into our village, killed our defenders with those sticks of theirs, the ones that shoot fire and metal balls, and take away the strong men.”

Caerwulf had heard about these kinds of raids many times, but he had never seen them before. The lizard people came from the south years ago and had devastated the country ever since. Everyone who was taken away never came back. Those weapons, their tools, their ships… these creatures were very advanced.

“Hey! I said what about you?”

Caerwulf shook his head. “I was… alone.”

The man nodded. “Now it’s over. Sorry kid, you look young. I hate to see a life wasted.”

Caerwulf just stared back. He wasn’t afraid to die, not after everything he’d been through.

“Where do they take us when they kill us?”

The man grunted a small laugh. “You think you’re here to be executed?”

“What other reason could there be?” Caerwulf asked.

“You’re a slave now, son.”

Caerwulf turned away and leaned his head back against the walls of the rolling cart. “From living on the streets, to prison, to slavery. Why does it always happen to me?”

(The word prompt today was “Move.”)

[– 31 Fantasy Characters in 31 Days –]

Ryck held the simple barbute helmet in his hands, the only interesting thing they had found all day from their search in the ruins. It was tucked away in an old chest that Baemus had smashed open with his warhammer. Ryck would have preferred to pick the lock, as the chest could have been useful, but the deed was done.

The helmet was old, scratched, dented in spots, but showed no signs of rust. It was a little smaller than Ryck was used to seeing.

This helmet might actually fit someone like me and not wobble around, he thought.

“Leave it,” Baemus said. “It’s worthless, no one’s head is that small. Except maybe yours.” The barbarian laughed at his own words.

Ryck rolled his eyes and looked inside the helmet. He brought his torch closer to see better in the dark room. There was some kind of writing scratched inside, which would have had to have been done shortly after it was forged. Strange. Ryck turned it to Baemus for him to see.

The large man shrugged. “I can’t read.”

“Pity,” Ryck said, wondering why he had hired this man to accompany him in the first place.

Ryck lifted the helmet and started to put it on his head.

“What are you doing?” Baemus asked, clearly annoyed.

“I just want to see if it fits,” Ryck said.

It did. And suddenly the whole room lit up as if it were daylight, even though Ryck knew it was still night. He squinted from the brightness.

“On too tight?” Baemus asked, laughing.

HE LOOKS LIKE A PIG WHEN HE SQUINTS.

“Don’t call me pig!” Ryck said and punched the barbarian in the shoulder.

Obviously unhurt, but looking confused, Baemus said, “I didn’t say anything about a pig.”

“You just said I look like a pig when I squint.” Now Ryck could fully open his eyes. The room was totally visible, as if the ceiling was gone and the room were bathed in broad daylight. And he could hear what he thought were mice crawling in the walls.

STRANGE LITTLE FELLOW.

“That! Right there! You keep insulting me!” Ryck said, pointing his little finger at the barbarian.

“I— I—,” Baemus stammered. “I may have… thought it.”

Ryck frowned as he stared down the man. “I distinctly heard you say—”

I SHOULD HAVE STAYED AT THE BAR. CAN’T BELIEVE I CHOSE TO WANDER AROUND WITH THIS LITTLE SQUIRREL OF A MAN.

Ryck stopped. He never saw Baemus’s lips moving, yet he distinctly heard his voice. Ryck narrowed his eyes. “Am I a squirrel to you, Baemus?”

“How— how did you—?

Ryck smiled. “I heard your thoughts.” He took off the helmet. Immediately the room plunged into darkness, save the faint torchlight. “It’s this helmet. It heightened my senses, I was aware of… everything!”

Baemus laughed. “Then what are we waiting for? Time to play cards back at the bar and get my money back!”

(The word prompt today was “Aware.”)

An unplanned part 2 continues the adventures of Ryck and Baemus.

[– 31 Fantasy Characters in 31 Days –]

CONFESSION: This took me way longer than 5 min. 🙂

Krantuso opened his eyes and saw the sky. Why wasn’t he dead yet? It should have happened by now.

He slowly turned his head to the left. The field was littered with bodies, some writhing, moaning, others still. In the distance the battle raged on, the men attacking the giant beasts with spears. Krantuso knew it wouldn’t work, that those men would join him in death on the field.

Turning his head back toward the right, he saw the battle in the sky. The same giant beasts of course, with their flame-red leathery wings propelling their massive bodies, fought with their two snake heads biting at the only real defense the kingdom had, the Cropar, a strange mix of falcons and bears, a product of bizarre sciences Krantuso could never understand.

The kingdom’s Cropar were winning the aerial battle, he could see from the ground, and it brought a smile to his face. Then he started to laugh but gurgled and choked. He lifted his hand to his mouth on instinct, only… his hand wasn’t there. Just a stump remained from where a beast had bitten it off.

Krantuso turned his head fully to the right and spat blood. There next to him lay the beast that had bested him. Its cold dead eyes stared vacantly at him. He saw no movement in the beast, no sign of life.

He was wrong. Krantuso had bested it. He had won after all.

As he finally felt life leaving him, he thanked God that this glorious proof of victory would be the last thing Krantuso ever saw.

(The word prompt today was “Sky.”)

[– 31 Fantasy Characters in 31 Days –]