Summoned: An Accidental Adventure –

Chapter 06

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~Nicholas~

              “Nmmneeeiiioooiii-klkkll-hisss.”

              “No.  Damnit.  Not that.”  A pause then.  “N-ee-ko-el-ah-ss.  Neek-oh-las.”

              “Nniieeiiklackchkless.”

              She could not stand this yet she needed to.  The Old Man’s butchering of her name was worse than a bad Godzilla dub job.  It was almost like he could not even form the N’s and M’s without severe strain.  He also had complete trouble with vowel sounds and ended up seriously over stressing them.

              The two of them had been at it for the last half hour, but at least she had gotten him to recognize that it was her name.  It was better than the initial ‘Eeeek’ he had been calling her when she did the classic ‘Me Nick’ finger pointing.

              He rattled something off in his own language, Nick wasn’t sure about the specifics but she was confident that it wasn’t very cheery. 

              The better part of the day had passed.  Evening would be here sooner than later.  In that time she had learned that the Old Man was a grumpy and vocal teacher apt to old school methods.  Which meant that Nick had learned that he held no compulsion against thwacking her a good one if she frustrated him too much.  Luckily it appeared as if she could take a good thump or three.  Especially when she had gotten pissed with him earlier and had attempted to pick him up by the scruff.

              That had not gone well for her.

              As soon as his feet had left the ground a device on his staff spun up with a high pitched whine.  He then stepped to his left into nothingness.  Like the air had been solid ground as he pushed out of her grip behind a wall in empty space.  She had been left there holding only the tactile memory of homespun cloth.

              The next thing she knew something hit her lower back. 

              Hard.

              Nick had spun to face whatever it was only to catch the Old Man’s staff to the jaw as he stepped out of thin air on her other side.  When she had recovered he stepped backwards into nothingness once more. 

              That had continued for several minutes as he proceeded to show her what would happen if she dared to lay hands on him again.  Nick learned two things about herself then.  First was that she could move with a capital M when she wanted to.  She was several times faster and stronger than anything outside of comic books back home.  The other was that even though she could feel it as fully painful as in her old life she could take a beating without a mark.

              It had still taken a few more hours of pantomiming and pseudo charades to get him to understand at a least a little bit of why she was frustrated.  As well Nick was able to tell that he had absolutely no social stigmas about nudity.  It wasn’t even that he showed any inclination that he was enjoying the sight of her new body.  It was more like it truly didn’t matter.  So when he cut a few strips off the hem of his cloak so she could make a rudimentary loin cloth it seemed to be just as much an epiphany to him as well.

              At least the cool of the night did not bother her, nor did the rocks beneath her bare feet.  It wasn’t that her skin was calloused or tougher down there than the rest of her.  It was more that the environment didn’t harm her as much. 

              “I bet this is how Wonder Woman feels much of the time.”  She paused and put her finger to her chin.  “Well maybe Wonder Woman with a liberal mix of Red Sonja.  All I need is a good old sword and my own Conan backup singers.”

              The old man stopped walking along the path they were on and turned to look at her.  He cocked his head to the side and clacked something at her.

              “Hey I get it.  Klickeryclackiti fun time, right?”

              She was pretty sure he had said something about setting up camp.  With her luck she had responded saying something about the tequila’s worm and his sisters nether regions poor hygiene.  He seemed to take no notice of her though as he began to draw a circle in the dark brown dirt next to the path they walked on.  It was one of those type of travelers way area dirt stopping points next to a dirt road she saw in so many games.  That must have been how it was like in medieval times.  A large oval of dirt a couple dozen paces wide off to the side of the road or whatever.

              Shortly the Old Man had completed the circle he was drawing three times.  Immediately he stepped out of it and a purplish bruise colored stone rose out of the dirt to create a firepit.  He then went a pace away and acted similarly to raise up a pair of rock seats.  Since the wrinkled mummy had done this a few times prior on other nights it was losing the novelty it once had.  Yet it still fascinated Nick.  Such a simple application of camp magic.  She hoped that one day the language barrier would be breached so that she could find out how to cast similar things. 

              Routine being routine Nick went into the purple felt grass to look for some tubers she had learned to look for.  They were sort of like spongy yams that tasted like a cross between duck and broccoli.  An odd thing that at least after cooking over a fire was very filling.  Once back from her search with about five of the things she groaned for the next part of their daily routine. 

              It was now time for pointy namey time.

              She wished that it was her teaching him English.  Nick was realistic enough to understand that she was the stranger in this strange land and therefore the one that needed to learn.

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~Chris~

              In the cavelike cell Chris contemplated the disastrous dream world he found himself in.  For if it was not a dream then it may be too horrible to contemplate. 

              His body was bad enough.  Nothing like his prior one.  It felt things in a completely different manner.  He could see in all bands of light he had discovered and only seemed to need sleep as a way to pass the boredom.  He was pretty sure he was no longer human, in fact he doubted this body was ever human.  He could not even contemplate what had happened to cause this effect.  With no one to talk to in the last however long it had been he had not even been able to ask or otherwise.  The only sounds he could hear were the screams of the caverns denizens, and the guttural language that reminded him of a toddler cursing at him in infernal using the vocal cords of a strung out rockstar way past his prime.  He had no way to tell time, at all.  Being underground with no light source other than what his captors allowed meant that he couldn’t even tell things based on any schedule.  Plus his time sense was skewed.  He always was a patient man, except now he was sure that he was even more patient than ever before. 

              It was like he didn’t find any discomfort at not having any mental stimuli other than what he thought up for himself.  He could go still at the drop of a pin in any position he chose.  Once he locked his muscles in place they didn’t feel fatigue in any way.  It was as if he became stone for a fact.  He had also learned that he only needed to breath when he wanted to.  If it wasn’t so built into his core, he probably wouldn’t even do so at any time.  His chest seemed to be closer to housing a bellows than functional lungs.  He didn’t feel any change in self no matter how much air he took in.  And he could take in a LOT.  Somehow he could inhale far past what a conceivable lung in a chest his size could possibly contain.  As if he had a gas compressor built in.  The most he had pushed it last time had to have been at least five minutes or so straight of sucking in air like a drowning man upon reaching the surface. 

              The last break in the monotony so far had been hours ago when the Violet haired witch creature who had controlled him stopped by to deliver food.  That odd type of empathic pushing ability of hers was not going to catch him off guard again.  He stayed far enough away from her that she could not touch him, he was pretty sure that was how she used it.  Through touch, or the collar.  He was not quite sure, but he was not about to let her attempt to get him under her sway again.  As far as he knew she was helping out with some of the other caged creatures that may or may not be sentient as far as he knew. 

              The only things that communicated as far as he was aware seemed to be his jailors.  Especially the quadruped who seemed to be the nastiest of the bunch.  He had seen them cross in front of his own cage a few times.  The latest one was a while ago when she and the Brunette with the extra jointed legs came into view holding the leash of monstrous cross between a wolfhound and a horse.  With eight legs.  The creature had made a snarling chomp at the bars as it passed. 

              He was brought out of his thoughts where he sat in the darkest recesses of his cage.  A young serving boy wearing what Chris had come to think of as a slaves wrap and a metal collar came to stop before the bars.  He looked around into the enclosure for a moment before doing a sort of double blink.  A sort of nictating membrane folded from the inside to the outside inside of his regular eyelids.  After that the boy was able to focus on Chris who was out of the lamplight thunking one of his knuckles on the ground.

              ‘Huh… guess that gives him night vision?’

              A clacking guttural sound echoed from off to the side.  The kid looked that way and gurgled something in reply before running off.

              Chris carefully repeated it to himself noting that the inflection seemed to be at the beginning and not at the end.  “That how they ask a question?  Or is it just a boy being petulant…” 

              Since finally coming to himself after they had locked him in here he had been slowly studying those nearby.  Especially the language.  It was only in the barest bits and pieces.  He was pretty sure he understood ‘food’, ‘get back’ as well as ‘come’.  As well as several other very simple commands.

              What he was not so sure of was his abilities to repeat or use the words.  Especially in proper context.  That would be too easy after all.

              ‘Least the area isn’t too cold.  Or is it that my body is more resilient?’  He internalized rather than making any other noise.

              Which was relatively true.  Sitting or laying on the hard floor was not uncomfortable.  There may be no give to it but it seemed his body didn’t need a soft bed to rest. 

              He continued to practice the boy’s words quietly, feeling odd using the back of his tongue and throat to make the appropriate noises.  Currently he was a prisoner as far as he was concerned.  A slave with no knowledge of what was going on.  That would not always be the case, and Chris was determined to come out on top.  One way or another.

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End Chapter 06

Sorry for the short chapter.  Next one is a bit larger to make up for it.

Post Script -

So for shiggles and ghits I was watching my MiastriSs playlist and this song kept popping out at me as I was writing.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_tSWSpvNT1Y&list=RD_tSWSpvNT...

I don’t know Russian but I truly love this artist and listen to all her stuff.  But without knowing the words, it doesn’t take much to understand what the song is about of course.

Also... I seem to have gotten myself the distracted.  My Steamdeck came in last week while working on chapters 09 and 10.  

https://www.steamdeck.com/en/

I.... uhmmm... sowwies.....

I can not believe how much fun that thing was to play.  So... I didn't finish the last two chapters as I had promised.  

My Bads *bows head in shame*