A woman gently stirs from where she rests against the base of a large oak, the gentle warmth of the sun caressing her skin. She moans softly and blinks her eyes open as consciousness comes to her in full. A deep stiffness in her lower back makes itself known as she slowly takes in the evergreen of her surroundings.
Then, blinks again at what she sees.
Claire's eyes pop open wide with the sudden realization that she is outside and not in her apartment. She appears to be in the center of a small grove, amidst a field of wildflowers with her legs straight out and hands folded in her lap. Her clothes are a bit odd, which she might have noticed if she were not so confused. For a moment, Claire is simply stunned by this situation that she now finds herself in.
A dream, perhaps? Claire lightly pinches the skin atop her hand, feeling the telltale spark of discomfort that shows that this is, in fact, not a dream. She pulls her knees into her chest, wrapping her arms around them as if to comfort herself. Birds twitter and chirp in the canopies above, a single ray of light beaming down upon her from the gap in the leaves. Claire squints her eyes against it.
She knows she should be concerned with the matter of how she arrived in this place, but finds herself instead in awe of the lush green environment that now encircles her. Wherever it is, it is quite beautiful in comparison to her usual surroundings. The flowers are pretty as well, and the gentle fragrance of them fills her senses.
Claire closes her eyes to listen. Past the general chatter of the distant woodland creatures and songs of the birds, there is the faint hum of something nearby. The familiar sound of rushing water. Opening her eyes, she notices that the expanse of the woods seems never-ending from where she is. Claire decides the river may be her best option to follow.
Standing, immediately she is assailed with a deep soreness and lets out a groan. Had she slept here all night? Ignoring how odd that was in and of itself, Claire began her trek to find some answers, starting towards the direction of the flowing water. The terrain is uneven and has many obstacles in its path that Claire has to climb over and maneuver around, much to her annoyance.
Before long, she can see a small river cutting through the woods. She comes to stand at the edge of it and finds she is no less lost than before. At either end of the stream seems to be more of the same forest. Sighing, Claire squats down to rest, finding her own reflection staring back at her in the water. But.. something's wrong.
As her warping features come into view within the ever-shifting water, Claire's mouth drops. A face stares back at her with equal terror, but it is not her own. She gasps, her voice sounding strange to her own ears and she stumbles backwards, tumbling onto her butt into the pebbles below. She cannot seem to comprehend what she just saw. Another face in place of her own? Claire has to will herself to look again, shaking as she comes to a crouch over the stream once more.
She finds that face staring back at her again and chokes in disbelief as she realizes that it is her. Her hands touch and pull at the skin of her face, watching the reflection mirror her actions perfectly. The face is not unsightly by any means, but there is something off about it, besides the fact that it isn't hers. Something that is not entirely human.
The eyes are almost too big for the face with green irises that nearly take up the whole space. Claire realizes her glasses have not been on this entire time and that she can simply see. Thin, arched brows reach high up on her forehead, one with a tiny cleft through it from an accident of some sort, though the hair no longer grows in that patch. The lips are full-bodied, a small contrast to what she had had before and have a natural uptilt to the corners. Pointed ears peek out from the sides of her head and Claire gasps when she notices them. Her hands fly to touch them, stroking along the sensitive points with great bewilderment.
An elf! Claire is in the body of an elf, though of whom she is not quite certain. The skin was much the same as her own, though it had a deeper tint to it almost. No wonder she did not notice right away that something was amiss. Claire brushes a long strand of brown hair behind her newly pointed ear, unable to stop staring at this face she has somehow stolen.
Who are you? Claire wonders, stroking her cheek absently.
If this scenario weren't odd enough, Claire now has to contend with the fact that she may also be in another world, or maybe a hyper-realistic dream-because one thing is for certain… Elves aren't real. At least, she was pretty certain. Until now. Claire had always wanted to be an elf as an avid enjoyer of video games and Dungeons and Dragons.
Willing herself to calm down rather than what she wants to do, which is curl into a ball and cry, Claire wonders just what else has changed.
Before she can take a look at the rest of her body to see what's different, a sound catches her ear. Her hearing somehow feels more sensitive, more attuned to her surroundings. She whirls around at the crunch of leaves slowly approaching, as a hunter would prowl forward to avoid alerting its prey, and that gut feeling of danger is not lost on her. These instincts are not her own, she is certain. Claire knows full well that she is alone in an unknown forest. If something were to attack her…be it animal or man, she would lose. She's never brandished a weapon in her life and could easily be overtaken.
A moment of clarity hits her hard. If she truly did snatch this body, surely they must have been carrying something on them? Perhaps a weapon of some sort? Claire hastily pats down this body in search of personal belongings or something to defend herself and when she reaches her now somewhat muscular thighs, she feels the hard metal of something there. Her eyes light up. A knife? She goes to yank it from the holster that has been unknowingly strapped to her thigh this entire time.
It's unsheathed with a soft twang, revealing a long, pointed sliver of steel. A dagger, which she clutches uncertainly. She's never held a real one before. Claire only looks at it with brief confusion before refocusing on a potential enemy. Her eyes scan the treeline for a moment, when two figures step out from around the trees on either side ahead of her. They are both male and wearing strange clothing made of furs, leaving their torsos mostly uncovered.
Claire's eyes are drawn to the bows they carry and her breath quickens. Hunters, perhaps? Or.. worse? At first glance, she can tell they are both human, unlike this body she now inhabits. They look highly intimidating and she can't help but notice they are well-toned in the arms. She can see the muscles there easily as they are all but displayed for the world to see. They likely make use of these weapons frequently.
The one on the right calls out to her first before she can speak, a shaggy-haired blond fellow and the broader of the two.
"What's a little elf girl doing out here on her own?" he inquires with an accent, one that Claire thinks sounds almost scandinavian in nature. "Haven't you heard? These parts are dangerous. Why don't you come with us? We'll keep you nice and safe."
The way he says it makes every alarm in her brain go off. Claire has a distinct feeling that these people are the danger he speaks of. Subconsciously, she takes a hesitant step back, plunging one boot into the small current of water behind her. This seems to displease the men because they immediately lose their casual demeanor, taking a more aggressive stance.
"Hey, where do you think you're going?" he demands sternly as they begin to carefully approach.
"..Not with you." Claire forces herself to call back. Her voice is an octave higher than what she's used to and the words come out tightly.
At that, he grins. It's rather unsightly to Claire. "What makes you think you have a choice?"
Her heart is racing now. She definitely needs to go and quickly. But where? She has no idea where she even is. Her eyes dart to the one on the left who has yet to say anything. He's the smaller of the two with a dark mohawk and his eyes are sending a leery stare her way. He's not even trying to conceal the malice on his face. Claire gulps and takes another step back, both her boots now submerged in the rushing water. The blond man furrows his brows, thin lips raising in a sneer.
"Not another step!" he barks sharply, sending a pang of fear through Claire. "Angus here gets antsy when the prey tries to run. Don't you, Angus?" He looks to his companion.
Angus nods darkly, his stern face unmoving. He's got an arrow loosely nocked and his hands twitch eagerly at the idea of shooting her down. Oh, God. These men are insane. She doesn't waste a moment longer pretending to humor them. Claire sheathes her dagger while turning on her heel and she takes off into a sprint with speed she didn't know she had within her. She hears a curse behind her, but doesn't stop.
If this is a dream, she really would like to wake up now.
"Get after her, you fool!" the blond man demands harshly in the distance.
Clamoring over the scraggy terrain is a lot harder when you are being pursued. With the grace of a gazelle, something she never had before, she ducks under mossy vines, over thick foliage and through a partially hollowed out tree trunk. The woods don't seem to end. Thankfully, it seems this body is well-versed in running long distances, for she does not get winded for quite a long time, sprinting across the woods as fast as her significantly shorter legs can take her.
She can hear them farther back, rustling through the foliage after her. Claire isn't sure what to do. She can only run for so long but without help… she might be a goner. Then, like a ray of hope, she spots what must be a stone path through a section of trees not far ahead. A main road, perhaps? Despite the burning in her lungs and thighs, Claire pushes herself to the point of pain to reach it. Maybe someone will be there to help?
Claire's face brightens with disbelieving joy as she fast approaches. Almost there, almost there-
Thunk. Splitting pain tears through her right shoulder suddenly, instantly breaking her brisk stride. It feels as if someone took a hot poker and shoved a hole through her flesh. Claire cries out in agony, tripping over a thick vine she would have dodged otherwise and hitting the ground with a hard thud. Whatever air is left in her is snuffed out and she gasps sharply. Her head swims with disorientation. Glancing over, an arrowhead protrudes from her shoulder blade, wet with her blood.
Claire winces, shocked that what she is seeing is real. Distantly behind her, she can hear them.
"Did you see where she went down?" growls the blond man. His silent friend doesn't answer.
Have to get up. Quickly. Claire begins to crawl along the forest floor with difficulty, sweat dripping down her brow and into her eyes. Shit. She whimpers softly from the pain of it, but manages to get half-way to her knees. If she doesn't hurry, they will see her. Claire gets up the rest of the way, clutching at her wounded shoulder with her left hand. The road is only forty feet or so away now.
Claire grunts as she rushes towards the stone path, glancing over her shoulder. Where are they? How close? She can feel each heartbeat sending a spike of pain throughout her whole upper torso. As Claire runs through a crop of bushes and onto the main road without watching where she is going, she all but slams into something hard. Not only does it agitate her wound and force the arrow back into her somewhat, she can't help the shocked sound that escapes her throat. She immediately whips her head to look towards whatever she hits.
Claire has to drag her eyes up the length of a massive torso, until her eyes stop on the owner's face. She chokes, eyes widening. Her cry for her help dies on her tongue as she wonders if perhaps she just ran into something far worse than her pursuers.
An Orc. A hulking beast of a man that towers over her, looking just as surprised as she. He did not move an inch upon their collision and merely blinks down at her with eerie crimson eyes, made even more fearsome by the thick red paint slathered across them. Her eyes are instantly drawn to the large tusks at either side of his mouth that pull his lips slightly taut to accommodate them. Claire gulps upon seeing them. They make him look bestial, savage.
His sleek, dark hair is pulled into a thin, low ponytail that hangs to his mid-back. He also has stubble along his jaw with skin an olive green color she's only seen in fiction. Not only that, but this man is decked out in full armor emblazoned with a wolf on his sternum and other such motifs along the cuirass, mostly enshrouded by the dark cloak he adorns. He appears that of a seasoned warrior, one who could definitely cut down the ones chasing her. And possibly her as well.
Now, looking at the behemoth of a man before her, Claire is momentarily distracted from the pain in her shoulder. What in heaven's name is going on!? First, she wakes up in the middle of nowhere, ends up body-swapped, then chased by two maniacs through the woods, and now she bumps into an Orc of all things! What gives? All she wants is a moment to get her bearings!
There is a brief moment where they just stare at each other in a shocked silence where Claire is too stunned to speak, all but forgetting the men only yards behind. His eyes don't stay on her face long, instead lowering to look at the arrow protruding from her shoulder that Claire is still nursing with a hand. His somewhat confused expression becomes dark as he takes in her frantic behavior and wild eyes, as if realizing and coming to understand the situation.
She finally manages to utter a word, full of desperation and fear. Possibly her last.
"..P..Please."
His thick brows furrow at this. His gaze rises to look past her, just as there is rustling in the bushes behind them. Wordlessly, he gently ushers Claire behind him with a hand, to her surprise.
"Stay behind me." The Orc orders quietly, his voice gravelly. The timbre of it is enough to get Claire to abide and she does so willingly, hiding behind his massive form despite her distrust.
He's really going to help her?
The two men come bounding out from the treeline panting heavily, having swapped out their bows for the swords at their waists. Claire peers around the Orc's arm fearfully as she watches him unsheathe a rather long sword, the sharp sound drawing her pursuers attention. The expressions on their faces are somewhat comical and likely how Claire had looked just moments prior. Their eyes slide up his long torso, the blond one's mouth dropping as they take in the Orc and his size. He is utterly imposing and even the shadow he casts seems impossibly large.
"Turn around. Now." the Orc growls lowly, lips raising in a snarl, made more menacing by his tusks. "I won't ask twice."
The men blink rapidly and glance at each other. The blond chuckles uncomfortably.
"What's the matter, friend?" he asks jovially, though his nerves are apparent. "We just happened to be-"
"Begone!" The Orc roars fiercely and raises his weapon as a threat, cutting the blond off, whose face quickly becomes horrified. Claire winces as well, even if it isn't directed towards her.
"By Ysmir! Let's go, Angus!" he calls frightfully to his partner, who just nods. They shoot one last nervous glance back at the Orc before disappearing into the trees from whence they came.
By Ysmir? Claire knows she has heard such a phrase before, but in her fog she simply cannot recall. Something about this whole situation seems so familiar.
There's a tense silence in the air as Claire and the Orc are left alone. He remains facing the woods, likely making sure they actually departed. Meanwhile, her heart hammers in her chest, wondering if she is really safe or not. He could just as well be a threat to her. After a long moment passes, he shuffles, half-turning to look down at her. His eyes linger on her shoulder. Claire feels she should say something.
"I.. T-Thank you." she whispers, unable to meet his stare out of fear. "You're a lifesaver.."
"..You're wounded." the Orc comments softly, his face calm. "I could treat that for you, if you wish."
Claire glances up at him, somewhat encouraged by his demeanor. He speaks so quietly when he isn't scaring bandits away and in turn, he doesn't seem so scary. His eyes, despite their frightening hue, are gentle. She offers a weak, uncertain smile.
"That would be wonderful. Thank you, uh.." she trails, having no name to the face.
"Vargos. Vargos Gro-Narzulbur." he offers, holding a large hand out for her to shake. She meekly does so with her left hand, finding his dwarfs hers in comparison. His grip is strong and firm before he releases. "And you are?"
Another ping of recognition. His name.. Seems familiar as well.
"..Oh, uh, my name is Claire. I'm.. really sorry for running into you like that.." She apologizes, lowering her gaze. The pain in her shoulder is getting harder to ignore and she breathes slightly harder now.
At that, Vargos chuckles lowly. "You mean when you fled for your life? Don't worry about it. Come now, we should take care of your shoulder."
"Right.." Claire replies lightly. "I will follow your lead."
Trying something new.