An hour later, with us almost to where the town of Shrewsberry stood, and the bug jokes still hadn't stopped. They had ranged from the mildly humorous attempts to get me to blast Phil on the grounds that he was a haven for fleas, (something I secretly thought at least could be true) to the more direct and far less funny suggestion by Randolf that I blast the ants spotted on the trail.

At least now it was mainly just devoted to snickers and muttering amongst themselves. Jerks; I defy them to get hit in the face with a beetle that had recently been chewing on a walking human corpse a short time before and not get a little trigger happy. Not that I was in any way trigger happy. I ignored a fresh spate of giggles from my so called friends with head held high. Philistines.

At least pastor Collins hadn't joined in, though the sympathetic glances he had been giving me after I apologized for my failure rankled too. I'm not made of glass, no reason to think I'll crack just because of silly attitudes. And I'm not in any way phobic about bugs, despite what they all may think. The fatigue I had been fighting since I summoned the earth elemental had not helped the former illusion; even on the straight and relatively level road I couldn't push with any speed. I couldn't tell if I was slowing my friends up, they were being very good at acting like our pace was good, but I couldn't help thinking we should be there already, and they all had longer legs than I did.

Just as I despaired of ever reaching the next town over, we crested a small rise I don't remember being there when last I was this way, and saw it below us, in a depressed clearing full of wildflowers. Lilac and bluebells? that didn't make much sense... about as much sense as me knowing those flowers, let alone being able to tell them apart. Though I supposed bluebells were so easy anyone could I.D those. At any rate the road led down and right through them, to the town of Shrewsberry. Which was apparently under martial law.

I could see the haphazard barricade in front of the road, constructed of overturned wagons and carts, and the beginnings of a palisade. I could just make out rough dressed people working on the latter, and hiding behind the former, with bows, sickles, and scythes in hand. the crude mismatched marching patrol was hardly intimidating, but a nice touch.

And of course as we started down, their sentries saw us and all activity ceased. Almost criminal that, we could be a distraction. A good thing we weren't, but we obviously had much to discuss with the local powers that be. The further down we went, the more my own heart sank. It was blatantly obvious that whatever had happened, the town of Shrewsberry had not only not avoided it, it had been smacked by it as hard as we had. Hand carts and wagons could possibly be explained, or have been the only thing changed.

But instead, the houses were crude logs and mortar, much as the ones we left behind this morning. Most weren't even painted or whitewashed or whatever it was ours had. I coudl almost see the well in the center of town in my mind's eye, with the gossips chatting by it. The inn close by, the mayor's house would of course be painted. Perhaps there would even be the remains of a monster of some kind, barbecued on a bonfire last night? Nah, that level of deja vu would end the world. But something had to spook them.

"Hands visible guys, and walk slow. The natives are pretty riled up."

General assent was evident even without words, and we all raised our hands. Starting down, the thing that hit me the most was the smell; the lilacs and bluebells did more than vie for spatial dominance, the fragrances were heady when combined. It actually made me slightly dizzy... at least I hoped that was what was making me dizzy. The cautious (or perhaps paranoid) citizens waitind until we reached shouting distance of the barricade. They did not send out a welcoming party, instead preferring to seek cover so we had no convenient target.

"That's far enough, strangers! State your business!"

Seriously? I mean, seriously?

This did not bode well for finding answers here at all; if they were so far gone as to act like cliche villager yokel hick extras, then they wouldn't be smart enough to avoid licking metal in winter, let alone provide us good information. I feel that Karl summed the sentiment up well for all of us.

"Seriously man?!? What the hell do you think our business is? We're trying to find out what the hell happened to us! Maybe you like having to walk everywhere in itchy clothes and crapping behind bushes with no TP, but try to understand not all share your sentiments. Now can we talk, or not?"

The man, startled out of his hick impression, stood. He was a tall, lanky sort, a good seven feet tall if he was an inch. He also looked to weigh about as much as I did. His unkempt, spiky, and rather lank hair was almost orange, and his skin had more in common with leather than I would have felt comfortable with. He was holding a scythe easily in one hand, and as he stood, he waved it about with such abandon that I wouldn't have been surprised to see a head roll towards us.

Randolf's muted scoff of "Amateurs." made me grin a bit though. How quickly he forgets.

I didn't recognize him at least, that was something. I'd have been downright ashamed if he'd been a friend of mine. Unfortunately, he seemed to know me right off.

"Lady Muse! It's Lady Muse!"

Whispered murmurs started; gossip spreading like wildfire, and no doubt faster than the people who just ran off as if their butts were on fire. Just perfect. I suppressed the urge to facepalm.

"Um, do I know you or something?"

Then from out of nowhere hands grabbed him and dragged him back beyond my vision behind the wagons. There was muted whispering I only caught every third word of, mainly words like "idiot" and "get us all killed". Then a new face stepped out behind the same wagon the other guy was dragged behind.

He was a small man, barely a few inches over me with a slight gymnast's build. He wore dark almost black grey cotton pants, a dark maroon tunic that looked to be some kind of wool, and a black hide vest. He also sported a cap, one of those strange folded ones with a small ostrich feather plume sticking from it. The dandy image was completed with a few decently crafted pieces of jewelry and a rapier attached to his hip.

"Sorry; please forgive Owen, he was dropped on his head one too many times as a child."

Snickers all around, my own joining them. He made a sweeping gesture while we recovered and the 'sentries' lowered their 'weapons'.

"So, of course you're here to investigate all this. I must admit I didn't expect to see you here though Lady Muse. Mayor Conratty is a fool."

Well on that we could all agree, but this was curious. Why would he say such a thing?

"Why would you say that, mr...."

"Ah right. Apologies again, I'm Leeroy Wylde. Right now, I lead this rabble, for the moment. And to answer your question, for some reason, your name and likeness is known to us. In the same way as I now know how to us this." He tapped his sword to clarify.

So the same way I knew magic. Somehow I had a reputation that went beyond those who knew me. A good or bad thing? Only time would tell. I was leaning towards bad because it seemed to suggest what we all suspected; that this event was well beyond just one or two towns. That it might be state or even continent wide. The thought that it was truly worldwide hovered around my head for a second, but it was too big. The best I could do was work on my own end of this. He continued.

"As for mayor Conratty being a fool, well he is about many things. But if it were me, I wouldn't simply send the strongest magic user in the region away on an errand, even one such as this. Especially one such as this. I'd want you close to home, especially given the trouble we had yesterday."

Natural segue into the million dollar question.

"And what trouble would that be?"

"Well, aside from the obvious situation, yesterday morning this large tusked ape faced humanoid came into the center of town, where everyone was gathering, and started yelling gibberish. The encounter ended with the thing assaulting and almost killing one of our own, before we managed to chase it out of town."

I was pretty sure I knew, but I had to ask the next logical question.

"Was it an Orc?"

The light dawned in his and other eyes, like a flashlight turning itself on. He finally waved us in, and weapons were lowered.

"Yes, that's what it was! It had to be an orc! But what was an orc doing in the center of town? I mean, their kind...."

He spared a glance at me, one so quick I don't think anyone else caught it. But I knew what it meant. Their kind weren't welcome. Orcs had a reputation of being dumb bloodthirsty brutes, who only valued strength of arms. The problem is, I could not fully trust what my mind was telling me, or my gamer and myth knowledge.

Because like me, that Orc had been a human two days ago.

I wasn't sure, and hoped I was wrong, but logic and intuition both screamed out that I was correct. But should I mention it? If I didn't, then these villagers might well kill the next Orc to come along. It was clear that they were scared; the fear was on every face, even more so than the ones back home. Fear was the death of logic.

"Have you performed a head count yet? A tally of all the people you have here?"

"We have, a head count on the green was the first thing we tried. We had almost a dozen people missing. Three came back today; some were on trips to other towns for one reason or another, and found themselves having to walk home. We suspect more were out there, and simply did not make it."

"Possible, but I have another theory. Who is still missing?"

"Why, looking for someone?"

I shook my head.

"No, but I have a theory that needs checking. Can you arrange to take us to the homes of the missing?"

His piercing look seemed to see something he didn't like, but he nodded.

"I don't know all the details, I'm just helping out here. But I can get you a guide to take you wherever you need, assuming our own mayor agrees. Time to go see him now."

"Of course."

It suddenly occurred to me that my party had been silent this entire time... too silent. I looked back to find them all staring at me; Karl with amusement, Matt with a shrug, and the rest with calculating gazes and glassy eyes I really wasn't comfortable with.

"What?"

"Nothing, nothing. Mr. Wylde, can we confer alone a moment?"

"Sure."

He motioned everyone back as I was pulled into an akward huddle. Thomas started off.

"You do remember you're not in charge of this expedition, right?"

"Of course I'm not, I'm just impatient. Look, it was obvious from the moment we saw them this wasn't some local thing. It was obvious to them the moment they saw us too. We answered our first question already; we just don't know how far it extends. Finding missing people is important, it will cement friendship with the locals around here, which we may need, and allow us to explore their territory unopposed. We need that to make sure we find all clues and gather all the information we can, both of which we may otherwise miss. We also can't dismiss the possibility that one of the missing people might have information we need."

The collection of dropped jaws tempted me to start using them to pot plants in. That they seriously thought I was going off half cocked-again, was something I needed to talk to them about at length, but here and now was not the time nor place. Karl added his thoughts.

"Remarkably well thought out, but we need to balance it against the risk that we're taking. The forest is filled with dangers, we know that already. Getting us all killed looking for people that are most likely dead won't answer the other questions we need to answer."

Randolf chimed in, loud whisper threatening to carry.

"That's right, and for all we know the natives here could be hostile! I don't like the look of them at all."

Phil elbowed him in the gut with a smile.

"You always think everyone is hostile."

"That's why I'm still alive." was the solemn reply.

...The hell was he talking about? The closest he got to mortal peril was pissing off a member of the Hell's Angels by decking his girlfriend/old lady. His eyes looked more than a little gone. I snapped my fingers in his face.

"Bullshit. Worse you ever did was fight in bars. Don't go flaking out on us."

He snorted rudely.

"Like you know all there is to know about me."

Karl broke it up before it had a chance to get ugly.

"Alright I think we're done here. I agree with Lady Muse's thoughts, and back the decision. But let's not get lax. Watch your backs."

Mr Wylde looked up with some masterful restraint on that poker face of his as we started back towards his people. He had been joined by another. A small (about my height! Finally!) almost completely bald man who looked like he was one foot, perhaps even the wrong foot, into his grave. No trace of the amusement I'm sure both were feeling at our football huddle. I hung back this time, letting Karl take the lead.

"Sorry about that."

"It's no problem; may I present our mayor, Mr. Anderson."

"Nice to meet you, mayor Anderson. So about this problem you guys have, with missing people? Our resident expert seems to think that it might be a good idea to investigate the houses."

"So I've heard, it's an excellent idea. I had ordered them closed for fear of looting or vandalism. People are scared right now. I'll act as your guide myself; I knew all the people missing personally, and it's quite a blow. I fear the worst."

It was highly likely that his worst was not the actual worst, but I had been chastised, so I won't say anything. Let Karl, the leader, handle it.

I decided to focus on the surroundings. The village, now that I could see it, was better constructed than home, (with the exception of my house) with actual planed lumber set in a box shape, many of them stained various shades. There were no gaps, any potential holes or cracks were filled with some dark substance that in most cases matched the wood it was adhered to. They also seemed to be put together with actual pegs, maybe even nails, rather than the slotted wood construction used just a few miles away.

Where we had a green, Shrewsberry had a large stream running through the center of town, almost enough to float boats on. I could see small fish of some sort or another darting through the crystal currents. The entire visible length of it was studiously avoided by the townsfolk, save one spot of hard packed earth naked of plant life downstream, where water was being gathered by the more industrious.

There were well kept wooden walkways inset in the dirt but appearing (and feeling) very sturdy, along with a few small bridges over the stream. No doubt more to keep the stream from being befouled than the people. Hygiene for the win. The market was laid out on the north side, and had people, farmers or merchants, selling fruits and vegetables. I recognized the cabbages and lettuce, the turnips and potatoes. Some were a mystery however.

The people sported hard faces still bearing shell-shocked looks. Even the merchants didn't seem to have their hearts into their work; the yelling was half hearted and barely obnoxious. I could still hear the rather complex birdsong going on outside the village. Those songs were far more interesting, I had to admit.

"You! Stop right there!"

The deep booming voice fooled me from the first. I looked around for it's source, then realized my mistake when motion hit the corner of my eyes... The lower edge. And of course a true nightmare was beheld the moment I looked down. I should have known in a world with Elves, zombies, and possible Orcs, the dwarf race would also be a thing.

What was more surprising was the irrational surge of hatred and contempt I felt the moment my eyes beheld his glory; a surge of emotion which, judging from what I saw in his eyes, he shared... right down to the surprise. I took a mental step back and went back into observer mode.

The dwarf was perhaps 3 and a half feet tall, with a wild beard that reached down to his boots in true zz top fashion, a light gray contrast to his dark brown hair. His eyes were a rather piercing blue, his face filled with a veritable road map of lines and crags. He wore some slightly smelly and very stained leathers under a shiny mail shirt. His trope weapon of choice was the double bladed war axe poking up from behind his head. Gods only knew how he managed to keep his head intact when he turned it, or for that matter, how he reached the ax in a fight without an impromptu shave. His boots were metal shod, and he left deep impressions in the earth behind him as he stumped up to us.

His mutter of "Oh great, one of them." Was of course heard by me, and I think that it was intentional. I don't think anyone else actually heard it, being a bit too busy fighting off bemusement. The mayor and our guide though, both took the dwarf seriously. Which meant that maybe I should too. The ever so faint smell of fresh blood clinging to his person seemed to corroborate that idea.

"Mr. Mayor, Mr. Wylde. What is going on?"

"Mr. Stone."

Of course, how very fitting. I really hoped all dwarves didn't have rock names; I'd have to murder a few small children till the world felt right again. Or as right as it currently did, anyway.

"Mr Stone, meet Lady Muse, Pastor Collins, Thomas Caine, Randy Wills, Matt Lockland, and Karl. They have come to our neck of the woods to
investigate all the strangeness. Everyone, Ethan Stone, a resident of Shrewsberry."

The dwarf raised an eyebrow, no doubt noting that the mayor hadn't given Karl's last name, and that our town of origin hadn't been offered; He should know both as common knowledge, but that did not mean he did. He didn't seem to be an out of towner. At least, the locals around him treated him like he was one of theirs. He spared another venom filled glance for me and some more veiled hostility for the rest of my party. The Mayor noticed and his words started tumbling out.

And of course, his last name was Stone. I wonder if they all had similar names; it'd be stupidly cliche if so. I wondered if anyone else caught that; I'd hate to think I was the only one. I re-tuned into the verbal diarrhea.

"Mr Stone, Karl and his friends are here to investigate the issue that has beset us all. They have managed to survive the journey to us in order to compare notes."

"Oh, and what have you found so far?"

I stayed silent as Karl answered.

"Dinosaurs and zombies so far. Well that and that this is more than one hamlet wide. Right now we are considering finding just how far it
extends."

"And we thought it was dangerous with just the Orcs." The mayor shook his head, the fringes of hair he had left waving in his self created breeze.

"Have you tried sending out an expedition of your own?"

He shook his head at me this time.

"No, we were too busy freaking out; we decided to turtle up here and wait for help. This is the place, the first house."

The dwarf spoke up.

"You sure about letting them in there Mr. Mayor?"

"Well I don't see what it could hurt. Mr. Wylde if you please?"

Leeroy made a slight production of producing a slightly rusted old style skeleton key, from his pocket and opening the door. Thus clued in, I took another look at the place in question. At first glance it didn't look any different than it's neighbors. It wasn't even larger. But on that second glance, it had iron nails, a full doorknob with a lock, and sported almost fine iron hinges on the door and and window shutters. Said door and shutters sported actual scroll-work, a series of lazy lines in an almost Celtic fashion.

so someone with a little wealth lived here; even more wealth than the rest of this town. I wasn't jealous... much. My own hinges were bronze.

As we entered, the mayor first, I took a closer look at the locking plate; there was something about it that looked odd from the iron I'd seen so far... A quick touch and my finger tingled. That was odd.

"Say, is there any magic on this door? Any magic users here at all?"

The others looked puzzled as Leeroy answered me.

"Well there is an apothecary on the other side of the square, and our priest, but no, no mages. And there shouldn't be any magic on the door."

A quick shifting of my own perceptions revealed no magic on the door whatsoever. Weird. A longer touch to the plate, and my finger was on fire.

"Ouch, what the hell!?!"

Matt was at my side in an instant.

"You OK?"

My finger had an angry red burn on it which covered the entire pad. The dwarf grumbled behind me, face in his hand.

"Get a move on you blasted fairy! It's cold forged iron... you know, the stuff you're allergic too."

Well color me stupid. I should have remembered that. In the game most types of Elves had no such weakness; but in myth and lore, most of them do. I'm sure the light dawning in Matt's eyes reflected my own. Alright, so I would have to avoid such metal in the future. But I didn't have to let that sawed off runt know I was grateful for the heads up. I'd have figured it out eventually, he likely didn't need to say something at all.

"Alright I'm moving shrimpy, don't get your beard twisted."

The burn hurt with a dull aching throb. It would be a good reminder to be careful.

The front door opened into the living room, which was a mess. The rather sturdy looking polished oaken table was broken cleanly in two, the companion chairs splintered. A plush divan was upended in the corner, books were strewn about, many of them ripped in half. a quick glance down the small hallway revealed tattered clothing strewn everywhere, and various valuables strewn about; jewelry and coins, mostly.

What sort of Orc would leave valuables behind? Of course I was all but sure of my answer. I took a look into the kitchen. It looked much like mine, with a rack for pots and pans, a granite fireplace, and another large sturdy oaken table. There was another door off to the side which I assumed led either to a cellar or pantry. The kitchen was also spotless, pristine and untouched. There were even red checkered curtains on the windows.

Everyone else had gone straight to the bedroom, so I joined them there.

"other than what you saw, there were no signs of violence. Not even a little blood. So we are at a loss. We can't really determine if anything is missing."

"so who lived here?"

"Sidney Black, a friend of mine. We went to high school together. He was a successful lawyer, and we had been friends for years. The Orc that came charging down the square and accosted me came from this house."

I spent my time looking. This house was indeed for a rich person, as it had a bath and a washbasin, with a pure inblemished mirror... The trail of destruction started here, if the razors and soap thrown about were any indication; perhaps it could have started in the bedroom itself, but if so then why would the trail lead into the bathroom, then out again? It didn't lead down the opposite hall, it didn't lead to the kitchen, it led from the bathroom to straight out the door.

"Mr. Stone, when you first woke up yesterday and found out you were... shorter, what did you do?"

Thus put on the spot before us all, he scuffed a gauge in the floor with his boot, trying to smooth it over. It almost worked, he had some heavy feet.

"Well I imagine it was much like you; I freaked out a bit, and tried to figure out what was going on."

I nodded. Karl looked as if he understood too, as did Tom.

"It seems that Elves and Dwarves aren't the only new species humans have been transformed into. I'm fairly confident judging from this evidence that your old friend was the Orc that accosted you."

I could see the denial forming on the mayor's lips so I pressed on.

"The trail started at the bathroom, at the mirror. If I may engage in a bit of speculation here, Mr. Black wakes up, notices he's green now, and stumbles to the bathroom, where he beholds his new form. distraught, he panics and gives in to his new found rage. then he stumbles outside for help, only he can no longer speak the common tongue. Enraged again, he finally hits you, and horrified at the act or afraid of the consequences, he runs away."

"But why would he no longer speak the language?"

"Not sure, but yesterday morning I woke up knowing how to speak elvish. The day before I was multilingual. Perhaps if I hadn't been, I too would have problems communicating?"

I looked to the dwarf and he nodded. He knew and had known multiple languages too.

Matt spoke up.

"Well, while we are on that subject... you do talk rather off sometimes, with strange grammar and word choices sometimes. It's not anything too bad, I mean most of the time you're spot on, but it's almost as if english is no longer your first language. And also when you burned your finger you cursed in elvish."

I had no idea, why had no one told me this before? I y was actually pretty important.

"If it's even English all of you are speaking. It may not be; but in either case, it's fairly obvious now that language barriers will now exist."

"... I had no idea. My own friend and I treated him like a monster...."

"Mr. Mayor! Snap out of it sir, there is no way you could have known. For now it's more important that the word be spread and we check those other houses. We don't want anyone else making the same mistake if we can help it; after all, if people are turning into Orcs too, well Orcs are well known for their tempers and less than forgiving nature. Any antagonizing on our part can lead to problems we don't want."

Like killing on both sides.

"Right! I'll spread the word that we don't want to shoot them on sight or anything. I wonder if anyone in town can speak their language...."

I didn't want to mention that if so, they had likely already turned green and either run or hidden themselves. I addressed the next question to Karl, as politely and deferentially as I could. In a way, I was lucky that what I had changed into looked so much like a human. And perhaps gave off a nice nonthreatening vibe, being smaller than they are. I know that I was never so happy to have taken languages in college, and I did not like to think such thoughts.

"I think we've learned all we need here; to the next house?"

"Yeah, I think you're right; let's go."

The next houses were clear; no signs at all of violence, and everything was where it was supposed to be, best as any of us could tell. The relief was palpable, we had no more changed people running around. However that meant that if the people of Shrewberry were serious, search parties would have to be organized and conducted. Our part here in determining the truth of the disappearances we done.

Of course, like every other question answered, it raised more. Like, the biggest question: why was I the only changed person in our little hamlet? Why were there no missing townspeople like Shrewsberry had? Was it such a rare occurrence? Why was it rare? What dictated the change in the first place, did it follow any rules at all?

No answers to those.

I'd also been keeping my senses focused on the main problem; I'd seen no weird magic or dimensional anomalies or felt anything strange at all. Which made me think my new senses may not be the way to go about finding anything out... but of course it was all I had. Senses gather data, which the brain then interprets, and all that. The fact that I wouldn't have had any way to detect anything of the sort two days ago was promptly shelved as a useless distraction.

The summary of the situation in Shrewsberry was that until we arrived they knew less than we did. We were not going to find answers here. The only good lead we found was the language angle, and I had no idea what to make of it yet.

"So looks like we're pretty much done here. Lady Muse?"

I nodded, I couldn't think of anything else we needed to check. The mayor was still troubled.

"Thank you for helping us. Please, if you find our missing people, send them home."

"Yeah we will. we will keep an eye out; chances are they went missing along the road, and that's where we're going, so... we will do what we can."

"Excuse me Mr. Mayor."

The dwarf again, still staring at us in myopic suspicion.

"Yes Ethan, what is it?"

"I'm going to go with these people, in the best interests of Shrewsberry. Someone needs to represent us in this endeavor, and I'm nominating myself."

Oh no. No no no. I tried to shoot Karl a look to let him know how bad an idea this was. He was rather obviously avoiding looking my direction. Matt looked amused. I knew the others would be no help; Pastor Collins would not object at all, and Randolf and Thomas would be more interested in sticking it to me to help me here.

"Well I can't make you stay, you have a choice... "

Make him stay. Make him stay!

"... If their team does not object, that is. Otherwise we might have to form our own."

Sure lay on the guilt, jerk. I knew they had no magical artillery, and that lowered the life expectancy of any party they formed significantly. There were no objections from us.

"Splendid! Thank you for taking on our representative."

Again the Mayor looked relieved. Wanting the dwarf gone perhaps? If so, why? Hopefully that wasn't it. Hopefully it was no more than him being happy that Mr. Stone wouldn't be off on his own, or following us alone. I knew how stubborn dwarves were, and thought that the most likely outcome to any dissent on our part. I shouldn't immediately jump to racism off the bat. Or maybe, judging by the relief I could see on Mr. Stone's face, I could.

"If you don't mind, just let me get my traveling pack. I'll meet you at the road in 5 minutes."

"Sure, we'll be there."

(tbc.)