>>6098847Well you DID fall, you grumble, and there was someone else with you too–some devil girl named ‘<span class="mu-r">Rezalith</span>’.
Both of your new pals go silent for a moment before Volka speaks up. “That’s… hard to believe…”
She doesn’t need to believe it, you retort–just follow the river back to the broken bridge! The devil’s probably still there laughing!
“No, I don’t doubt that…” Volka explains with a hint of concern, “It’s just that the Temple Guard are usually on top of snuffing out devil rituals long before they occur…” She pauses, then adds “Err, Temple Guard of Mitaar, that is.” In an apologetic voice.
“One question if I may…” Morook begins as his disco ball eyes burn holes into you, “<span class="mu-s">What is your name and where are you from?</span>”
“Huh?” Volka asks, cocking her head to the side.
Your name is <span class="mu-b">Anton Peas</span>, you reply, and you’re from-
“Wait, what did he say?” Asks the girl as she pops a squat next to you.
“He said his name is Anton,” replies Morook, “And he did it in an ancient Chytree dialect.”
You blink. What’s a Chytree?
“I am.” Morook explains, “But the dialect I just used is long gone… but if that’s not evidence of your story being true, I don’t know what is.”
When both you and Volka reply with a confused “Eeeh?”Morook strides over to the campfire and places something above the flames with a gentle ‘hiss’. “No one speaks that language anymore, least of all non-Chytree. Mages, maybe, but I can’t really imagine what use they’d have for it apart from novelty.” Turning towards you again, the Chytree clicks some unseen claws or mandibles intently.
“If I had to guess, I’d say your summoners added in some kind of language spell. Magic’s not really my forte, though.”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself, Mor! I’m not good at it either!”
“It wasn’t a putdown, but thanks, Volka.” Smiles Morook. “As for you, Anton, I’m sure you have a lot of questions given your current predicament.”
That’s an understatement! How the hell do you get back home anyways!?
>CONTD. 