Encounter of the smallish type

“Recording!”

Traveling through the forest has been a lot easier than anticipated, although I sometimes suffer from bouts of panic that do not go away until I use magic to ‘look’ at my surroundings.

Between my new senses and the markers I set along the way, there is no way I would ever get lost and yet I still feel disoriented and oppressed.

I know it is not claustrophobia as I never suffered from it while I was alive. No, I believe it is the backlash of losing four out of my seven senses finally getting to me.

When I was still in the city, the loss was bothersome, but there were not many obstructions and the danger was non-existent.

Here, there are gigantic trees, roots, creepers, animals and magic beasts. On their own, none of those things are a threat, but they still force me to be constantly wary of my surroundings at all times.

“Stop recording!”

I should be recording my experience and thought, but this is less and less the case. Most entries are like the last one, barely disguised complaints about my situation… a situation I deliberately put myself into.

As for acquiring some company, I cannot see it happening anytime soon: whether it is animals or magical beasts, all seem to flee at the faintest hint of my presence.

Not that a pet was ever my main goal, it only looked more realistic than finding an intelligent life-form who would welcome a talking skeleton.

My loneliness has once driven to entertain thoughts of taming wyverns. They are stupid and fearless creatures, so they probably would not be afraid of me, but they are also known to obey more powerful beasts such as lesser dragons.

I know: forced servitude is not the same as companionship, but if push comes to shove, I would choose that any day over solitude.

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“Recording!”

I have discovered signs of woodcutting and logging.

This is unquestionably a sign of intelligent life!

I am excited but also baffled as to how I am going to approach them. No matter how well-spoken I am, it does not change the fact that I am undead and a skeleton to boot. Prejudice is unavoidable, and I know so little about myself that I cannot say it is wrong.

For now, I will restrain myself to observation, learn about their ways, and devise a method of contact.

“Stop recording!”

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“Recording!”

By following the tracks, I have found a small settlement inhabited by two similar, yet very different species.

Both have grayish skin and similarly complexes pointy ears, but that is where the similarities end.

The most numerous of the two species is about a third of the other in size and has six digits and two opposable thumbs; just like me. The other has only five.

That is all I could detect for sure from afar. When I attempted to use farsight to get a better view, the big ones looked back at me, so I stopped immediately.

“Stop recording!”

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“Recording!”

Despite the difficulties, I have taken some rough measurements.

The little ones are built very lightly and only stand about sixty centimetres tall. There are some differences though, as I have seen a few with well-defined muscles. The shape of their hands is just like mine: six fingers and two opposable thumbs.

The big ones appear almost as large as they are tall. Obviously, that is not true, but they are so abnormally large and muscular that this is the impression they give. I mean, most of them do not reach two metres - about two-third of my own height - but they are still larger than me by a wide margin.

The strangest part is that apart from dragons, they are the only species I know with five fingers.

“Stop recording!”

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“Recording!”

I have grown weary of saying small and big ones all the time.

From now one, I will use ‘Imp’ for the former and ‘brutes’ for the later.

I know both names have some connotation, but they are also reflective of my own feelings: the imps are ugly and the brutes fit the definition in every way.

“Stop recording!”

The sun rises, and the imps come out to prepare food in cauldrons taller and larger than themselves. The fires and cooking instrument seems overly big and dangerous for small creatures, but they work with an efficiency that shows a long practice.

I expected to start eating at once, but their actions give me pause.

“Recording!”

Morning has come and parts of the imps prepare food using a number of big cauldrons.

For the most part, the uninvolved wait patiently for the food, but the ever-vigilant brutes stand guard around the settlement.

I see two scrawny figures put some colorful masks on then retrieve bowls far too massive to be their own.

The cooks have finished and come in turn to put some carefully selected food in the bowls.

This is not for the masked ones to eat, though. Instead, those two lead a procession of both species toward a strangely decorated piece of tall wood set a small distance away from the houses.

I observe the strange and incomprehensible actions taken by the masked imps and their followers.

I have no understanding of the strange happenings, but I will still report what I see.

There is a massive slab of stone at the feet of the feet previously mentioned decoration and both masked have stopped right beside it to chant before depositing their bowls and prostrating themselves.

Mirroring the masked ones, the following imps are now doing the same under the watchful eyes of the nearest brutes.

As for the other, they show little interest in the proceedings and even though they should have no idea of my existence, I cannot help but feel that they are on to me.

The weirdness only continues for a few minutes.

Whatever it was, it has ended. The masked figures and the rest are walking straight to the cauldrons.

While both species share a meal, the food they left behind being eaten by foxes.

If it is a method to placate predators with food, then it does not seem very efficient.

Could it be an attempt to domesticate the small carnivores? That seems highly unlikely, but I can see no other reasons.

Stop recording!”

Is it really possible to tame wild animals with food? Somehow, I doubt it, but I cannot deny the possibility that it might make them less fearful and hostile.

Something new is going on, the imps are dividing themselves into groups and walking toward the forest.

Each group is accompanied by one to four brutes and one of them has stopped about twenty metres away from my position.

Standing at the edge of the forest, they divide themselves into pairs while the single accompanying brute stands guard.

But why is there only one, and why does it not follow after them like the other? I can only assume it is because they are only a few dozen metres away from the village but…

Now that one of the pairs is in view of my hiding, I realize they carry different tools. One has a basket, and the other a long knife.

The imp with a blade speaks happily (“Found mushroom, take them.”)

What? I do not understand the language but I still more or less get the meaning… In this case; I think it has found something and wants the other to put it in the bag.

The imp with a basket does not answer immediately, as it seems focused on something. I see it at a patch on the ground. (“There are good mushrooms here, cut the feet!”)

I am certain it is asking the one carrying the blade to cut something.

Blade imp – for short – appears satisfied. (”Lots and lots of mushrooms. Soon, we will have a great feast. What about the chestnut, are they ripe enough to pick?”)

I surmise they are satisfied with their discoveries... or discussing food. Probably both.

I do not understand how it works, but whatever it is, I am starting to get the hang of it.

Blade imp looks up, right at me and silently breaks into a sprint toward the village.

The second one has no idea why the other one is fleeing, but it does not take him long to follow.

Try to. Its heavy basket gets stuck into branches and the small one falls flat on its face.

I take it as my cue to leave my hiding place and drop to the ground.

I approach slowly, speaking softly all along. “I am not hostile. I only want to help you.”

Stuck, Basket Imp is unable to turn towards me but not knowing what is coming does nothing to reduce its terror. (“Don’t eat me, I don’t taste good!”) His tone changes slightly, becoming almost hopeful. (“Take my basket; it is full of goodies!”)

Eat not? Eat? Oh, I get it! It’s offering me the content of the basket in exchange for its life.

The poor creature does not know what it is saying, food means nothing for the undead but I suppose it has yet to see me.

I liberate it from its burden and lower myself to appear as unthreatening as possible and that is not an easy task for a skeleton almost five times its size.

“Stay calm while I heal you.”

Basket imp becomes even more afraid. (“Don’t kill me.”) It screams. (“Help! There is a scary giant skeleton!”)

I cast a fast-acting healing spell over the small being. It feels opportune seeing as the wounds are shallow and the imp well-fed.

I could supplement the mana for the healing to reduce the stress on its body, but it would take a lot longer and I want to assure the creature of my goodwill as soon as possible.

Still, because of its small size, it might feel slightly anemic later. Truthfully, I would always rather use a slow-acting spell since they are less taxing on the body, but if I do not calm this one soon, it might die from a heart attack before long.

Basket imp looks at me with eyes like saucers. (“The skeleton is not killing me?”) And I suppose this face is one of bewilderment. (“The skeleton healed me?!”)

Next, it asks something with a friendly and hopeful tone. (“Are you a friendly skeleton?”)

The speed at which it recovered from its fear is commendable, and now it speaks non-stop in an over-friendly manner.

It speaks too fast for me. I do I get an impression here and there though, and the little I get is either about food or size.

Seeing how it looks up a lot, I suppose it is asking how I got this tall.

The imp starts rummaging through its basket and offers me food with a joyous sound.

I was wrong, it was not talking about height, but width. “I cannot eat nor do I need to.”

At least I do not think so, it is not like I know everything about my body yet.

I am suddenly struck by an incomprehensible urge to give the creature a nickname. “Would you mind if I refer to you as ‘Basket’?”

As it continues to give me food, I put the mushrooms in my mouth to show how useless they are to me. One after the other, the fungus falls through my lower jaw and hit my rib cage before flopping sadly on the ground.

Basket look at me with intense sadness. (“You cannot eat? Eating is good, eating is life. You must eat or you will die! Hurry, try these, they are the best.”)

It pushes another batch of mushrooms in my hand and they soon follow the same fate as their predecessor.

While we contemplate, two brutes arrive at the scene and look in confusion.

Not for long though. Obeying their instinct, both creatures attack me with a force far beyond what befits their stature.

The force is impressive but my barrier stands fast and disperses it around.

I am not the least bit worried; they are strong for their size, but they do not compare to magical beasts, much less wyverns.

The brutes enormous fist stops again and again at a dozen centimetres away from my skull and I really wish they stopped.

Basket screams at the two brutes in panic. (“No violence! This one is a good friendly skeleton! It healed me! Don’t be afraid, it isn’t one of the scary bad!”)

The two Brutes waver, but their instincts soon get the upper hand again.

This is a conundrum. I could easily dispatch them, but the brutes and imps have a symbiotic relationship.

Unlike the imps, the brutes do not seem to have much in the way of intelligence and I am sure that hurting any of them, no matter how lightly, will only cement their opinion of me.

More importantly, doing so might frighten Basket.

Seeing no way out, I use gravity to propel myself over the trees, then change the pull southward, away from the city and this place.

A few minutes later, I land in a clearing, depressed by my loss.

I should not let it get to me, it proves there are intelligent beings out there and next time, I will not make the same mistake!

“Recording!”

Today, I discovered a shocking truth: not all languages are derived from the Words of power.

This alone made me realize the foolishness of my prejudice. The language was a result of our magic affinity, but not all creatures are the same

For example, the little I have grasped of the brutes’ magic circuit was indicative of enhanced physical might but ill-suited to the pursuit of magic.

The imps’ circuit, on the other hand, was too complex to read properly, but I suspect it played some role in my understanding of their language.

In conclusion, next time I make contact I will have to get over two hurdles: learn the language and hide my nature.

“Stop recording!”