A wooden bench sat just outside The Frog Leg Inn. I collapsed onto it, trying to catch my breath, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t come to my senses. What the hell is going on?! That was clearly a dwarf. And by all accounts, a weird-ass pig with very sharp, very large tusks. But… that didn’t make any sense.
I ran a hand down my face, inhaling deeply through my nose. Think. How did I get here? Where is here?
The inn behind me creaked as its heavy wooden door slammed open. I jerked, heart lurching in my chest. A woman stepped out, balancing a tray of empty mugs. “I swear to the gods, if you lot spill another pint on the hearth, I—” Her words died as her gaze landed on me.
I froze. She was beautiful.
Long, chestnut-brown hair curled over her shoulders, strands catching in the evening light. A delicate silver-and-blue chain adorned her forehead, slinking down to rest just above her brow. She was graceful. Regal. Effortlessly striking.
But none of that is what made my breath hitch. Her ears—Long. Thin. Pointed. Very large. Very pointy.
She stared. I stared.
Her brow lifted. “You okay?”
I blinked rapidly, shaking my head. Nope. Nope, I was not okay. I had just met a dwarf. Then a battle-scarred boar. And now an elf? My brain was two steps away from imploding.
I forced a laugh. “I—yeah, I’m fine. I just…” I hesitated, realizing I had no good excuse. “I—uh. I’m new. Sorry. But… could you tell me where, exactly, ‘here’ is?”
She tilted her head slightly, an amused flicker crossing her gaze.
“Well, this is ‘The Frog Leg Inn’,” she said, gesturing up at the large wooden sign above the door. “And you are in our quaint village of Mosswood Hollow. Middle of nowhere, really.”
Mosswood Hollow? What kind of name is that?
“And the Kingdom of Lunareth is the closest major city in the region,” she added, as if that helped.
My brain sputtered. Lunareth? Mosswood Hollow? Who even names places like this? They sounded like something ripped straight from a fantasy novel, or some over-the-top medieval map. I tried not to let my face betray me.
“Right. Okay. Uh… and where exactly is the Kingdom of Lunareth?”
She frowned slightly. “Where?”
“Yeah. Like… in relation to everything else?” I gestured vaguely, realizing I had no idea what I meant by ‘everything else.’
She gave me a long, slow look, then shrugged. “Middle of the continent. East of the Ashen Peaks, so North of here.”
I nodded as if that meant anything. “Right. Right. Of course.”
She smirked, crossing her arms. “You really ain’t from around here, huh?”
I rubbed the back of my head, forcing a too-wide smile. “Not even a little.”
In reality, I was trying not to have a breakdown. Think. Keep cool. What do I know? I was just at my desk. I blinked, and now I’m here. I just met a dwarf with a giant pig. And now an elf. The logical conclusion? There wasn’t one. This was either the most vivid dream of my life… or I was going insane. I swallowed hard, inhaling through my nose. I needed a plan. A room. A quiet place. Something. Because right now, I was barely holding it together.
I cleared my throat. “Thank you. I should, uh… I should be on my way.”
She raised a brow. “You sure? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
Worse. I saw a dwarf. And then an elf. And neither of them seem to think that’s weird. But I couldn’t say that. Instead, I nodded.
“I just need to clear my head.”
She didn’t push. Instead, she pointed to her right, toward a narrow dirt road winding out of the village. “That way’s North,” she said simply.
“Right. North. Good.” I turned to leave, but hesitated. “What was your name again?”
“Elunara Grace.”
I hesitated for half a second before blurting out, “Arthur—Arthur Leetstrider.”
That wasn’t… entirely true. But I had to try and fit in somehow. Elunara just smirked. “Well, Arthur Leetstrider, try not to pass out on the road.” I forced a weak chuckle, then quickly walked away. I needed to think.
When I reached the bend where the inn began to slip out of sight, I spotted a small creek cutting through the woods—Perfect! I stepped off the road, following the water’s edge. I needed to process all of this—or I was going to throw up.
I quickly came upon a large crest, its rocky overhang casting a cool shadow over the bank. Without thinking, I slumped down, planting my elbows on my knees and dropping my head between my legs. Don’t hyperventilate. Just breathe.
Okay… okay…That was a Dwarf. And an Elf…A beautiful Elf. The moment my breathing finally steadied, I became aware of something else—something off.
My clothes. I wasn’t wearing what I’d had on before—no t-shirt, no jeans. Instead, I had on brown leather boots, loose white linen pants, and a linen short-sleeve shirt. I ran my hands over the fabric. Where the hell did my clothes go? What are these rags?! As I inspected myself, something tugged against my shoulders—straps.
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I blinked. I’d been wearing a backpack this entire time? What. When? I groaned, shrugging it off and setting it on the ground. The flap was held shut by a leather strap looped around a hook—sturdy, but simple. With a deep breath, I unfastened it. The flap fell open, revealing the contents inside. I looked in—and gasped.
A scroll, bound in twisted organic string, rested inside. But it wasn’t just any scroll, it glowed. Tendrils of warped blue and green light flickered from the edges, shifting and curling like living mist. The glow pulsed softly, its hues writhing like something half-alive.
I hesitated, then carefully undid the tie.
The moment the knot unraveled, the scroll unfurled on its own, snapping open in my hands. The symbols on the parchment twisted and realigned, shifting from nonsensical scribbles into legible words.
Welcome, Summoned One.
Whether by fate or miscalculation, your presence is now bound to this world.
What you carry belongs to you.
Status: No Mark. No Chain. No Oath.
This is… unusual.
No claim binds you. No master calls for you.
You are untethered—unchained.
Free to wander. Free to kneel. Free to carve your place in the world, or walk a path of your own making.
Purpose is not given. It is chosen.
(This message will now be erased.)
A wet pop! echoed from the parchment.
Green fire consumed the scroll in an instant, leaving nothing behind—not even ash.
Well, that really didn’t make things easier to understand. Why does everything in these settings have to be so mystical and wise-sounding?! I let out a slow breath, rubbing my temple as I tried to process the ridiculousness of it all. Eventually,
I forced myself to stop spiraling and actually looked at my surroundings. And what I saw was… unreal.
The trees around me were massive—so huge it would take thirty people holding hands just to wrap around one! But they weren’t just thick—they were tall, towering endlessly upward. And their leaves? They weren’t just green. Hues of pink, blue, deep browns—colors I had never seen on a tree before—created a dense, cloud-like canopy above me. Sunlight speared through in broken patches, golden rays catching on drifting specks of dust and pollen. The creek beside me twisted lazily for about thirty yards before flowing into a large pond. But the pond itself…A thick fog blanketed the surface.It clung to the water like a ghostly veil, swirling gently, almost too still for the faint ripples beneath.
This was too surreal. The towering trees. The fog-covered pond. The scroll that literally burned itself into nothing. It all felt too… intentional. My gut twisted. Something about this wasn’t right. That scroll—it wasn’t just welcoming me. It was acknowledging me. As if I wasn’t supposed to be here… but now I was.
Bound to this world… No claim binds you… Whether this is a blessing or a mistake remains to be seen…
The words turned over in my head, gnawing at the edge of my thoughts. Was I… hijacked?
The idea sent a chill down my spine. Summoned. That’s what the scroll had implied. But summoned for what? And what the hell happened to me before that?
My breath hitched. A sudden, horrible realization crept up my throat like bile as I remembered my last few seconds before I was here. I… died. Just like that. No epic last words. No dramatic send-off. Just me, slumped over my desk in the middle of patching servers.
Mr. Bittles!! That little apple-headed menace of a cat was probably eating my face right now.
It probably wasn’t even past noon. My work chat was probably still lighting up with messages like:
- [URGENT] Server down??
- Arthur? Need your eyes on this.
- Hello? Arthur, do the needful
Ugh. Just when things were finally going well, I worked myself to death. Death by espresso overdose. I let out a breath. No use dwelling on it now. Then—a snap.
A sharp crack of a branch behind me. I tensed. Another crunch. Closer this time. Instinct kicked in, and I turned just in time to see something lunging at me. I barely had time to react before a massive, clawed hand slammed into my chest. My foot caught on a root, and I hit the ground hard, the breath punched from my lungs.
A snarl—wet, ragged, and way too close. I scrambled back, dirt and leaves catching under my palms. Fur, patchy and matted. A snarling muzzle. Teeth, too many, too sharp. Eyes burning red-orange in the dim light. It wasn’t a wolf. It wasn’t a man. It was somewhere in between. And it was grinning at me.
A low, breathy chuckle rumbled from its throat, sharp enough to make my skin crawl. It loomed just beyond arm’s reach, hunched forward, shoulders rolling with every breath. Even hunched over, it was nearly chest height on me, its long limbs coiled with wiry muscle. Its fur was streaked with dirt and old blood, and strips of leather clung to its frame, fastened together like crude armor. Jagged bits of metal—scrap, maybe??—were lashed to its forearms, shoulders, and chest, overlapping in uneven patches.
A scavenger. A predator. And judging by the way its lips peeled back over its fangs, it had already decided I was on the menu. I barely had time to process before it lunged, claws raised.
Shit—!
My body moved before my brain caught up. In a panicked, jerky motion, my hand shot down, scooping up a fistful of wet mud from the bank. I flung it hard, right between the creature’s eyes. A violent snarl tore from its throat as it staggered back, shaking its head, claws slashing wildly at the air where I’d been seconds ago. I stumbled backward, heart hammering.
I was fast. Faster than I should’ve been. I wasn’t in terrible shape before ending up here, but that? That was different. That was a reaction I had no business pulling off. Adrenaline? Panic?
—BOOM!
The roar of an explosion cracked through the trees, deafening and raw. I flinched. Hard. When I looked up, there—standing right above the bank where I’d been sitting minutes ago—was the dwarf. Musket still raised, a thin wisp of smoke curling from the barrel. And just to his left? Bob. Unmoving. Staring. Breathing. Mouth slightly open.
The dwarf gave a casual nod, like we’d just run into each other at a tavern. “Hey there again.”
I was still trying to process the ringing in my ears when he added, “Hope I didn’t frighten ya. I was just headin’ to the camp to collect the bounty—figured you were doin’ the same.”
He trailed off mid-sentence, his sharp gaze sweeping over me. Then, his expression twisted in confusion. "Lad… where ya’ weapons?" A beat of silence. "No sword? No shield?" he continued.
I hesitated, glancing down at myself as if a sword might magically appear at my hip. "Oh… yeah. I, uh, must’ve misplaced my things."
The dwarf frowned. "Misplaced?" He looked from me to the dead creature, then back again. I could almost see the gears turning in his head, trying to figure out how an unarmed idiot like me had survived long enough for him to intervene.
I cleared my throat. "I didn’t have a way to pay for a room at the inn, so I figured I’d rest here instead. But before I could even settle down, that—" I gestured at the bloodied, fur-matted corpse sprawled on the ground. Its limbs were too long, too wiry, and its clawed fingers still curled like they were reaching for me. Slitted nostrils flared even in death, and jagged teeth sat frozen in what could have been a snarl… or a grin. "—thing jumped me."
The dwarf’s frown deepened. He glanced back at Bob, then at me again.
"If you hadn’t come along…" I let the words trail off, unsure of how to finish them.
A beat of silence. Then— "Sorry. To be frank—I have no idea where I am. Or how I got here."
The dwarf’s brows knit together. His eyes narrowed slightly. "Where are ya’ from, lad, that you don’t even know what a gnoll is?"
I opened my mouth—then shut it again. Good question. Before I could even attempt an answer, the dwarf let out a sigh, shaking his head.
"Bromm," he grunted. "Name’s Bromm. Not Frank, An’ I’d wager you owe me a drink."