A Chance Encounter
Sitting under a starlit night sky, the old man was warming his hands by a small camp fire. The glow of the fire stood out as a bastion of comfort against the chill of the night. The mans hands were wrinkled with unearned age, they were the hands of an ancient man, not the hands of a 30 something. His bones ached and were not one tenth as steady as they should be.
The young man still wasn't quite sure what had happened or how, but he was young no more. Not in body at least, and more and more he noticed not in mind either. How he ended up trapped in the body of his Yggdrasil character was a matter of great import to Abe, now Eladar. How he entered the world of Yggdrasil or as far as he could deduce a very similar world was of equal import. Could he get home? Should he want to go home?
In this world, this new world, he was a powerful if frail man. He was a wizard. He had magic, real magic. Through it he was more powerful than any CEO from his previous life. He had already tested several spells and all of them worked flawlessly. What were the limits to his power? Were there limits?
He did not have time to ponder nor marvel further however as the shrubbery nearby rustled. In the body of his Yggdrasil Avatar he had vastly enhanced senses when compared to his old self, one of the benefits from maxxing out perception he reasoned.
Through the shrubs and dense forestry, a nearly naked giant of a man emerged. Cloaked in shadow rather than clothing he wore only a simple loincloth. It was so poorly made it barely registered under Eladar's magically enhanced gaze. Such was life for the inhabitants of this world. From his limited interactions with them over the last few days Eladar had quickly deduced they were trapped in a low magic fantasy world. Apparently some few adventurers were high level but the vast majority of the world were equivilent to only level 2 to level 5 NPCs. Pathetic in comparison to someone like him, a level 100 wizard. It was a thought that was unwelcome, one of the many he had noticed recently.
The almost naked man seemed almost a little surprised by the little man sitting ahead of him. This was not a shock to Eladar of course, how could a commoner, let alone a Neanderthal match his maxxed Perception. The poor fool was probably lost in the dark and headed towards the light or perhaps the smell of his cooking.
The giant, muscled beyond belief stood unmoving and silent. That is silent until his stomach rumbled.
"Silly boy are you going to stand there all night or are you going to sit down and have some stew?" The old man barked. Internally cursing at the use of the word "boy". The man was properly not much younger than he is, was. It was one of the unwelcome changes he had noticed. It was almost like he unconsciously believed himself an old man.
The Adonis like barbarian hesitated, his mouth stammering wordlessly. His eyes looking at the old man for a moment before darting away.
"I said sit lad, my legs are sore and arms are weary, I won't be handing you up a bowl, by my beard I wont!" The old mans words struck like a whip. and the titanic man sat at once his hands on his lap. Again the old man cursed inwardly.
The old man passed the Neanderthal a bowl seemingly conjured out of thin air, full of steaming soup drawn from the pot that sat on the fire. The hands that took the bowl were large and well defined, a physical paragon of their kind. The hands moved with speed and precision, almost boldness; what could a level 100 player like Jeffery1 need to fear from a feeble old man, seemingly lost in this Great Forest.
"And put some bloody clothes on, I'm getting a chill just looking at you" The old man added with a wave of his hand. As his hand passed, a set of simple but sturdy clothing appeared in a neatly folded bundle at Jeffery's feet.
Jeffery immediately recognised this as magic. His own magically enhanced vision removing any doubt as to what had transpired. He remained seated, unmoved by the magical gesture thinking to himself.
I should really say thank you and reassure the old man that I mean him no harm. He is quite nice to offer me food and clothing, I must look like a deranged hobo to him. But what should I say? I need to convey sincere thanks but I don't want to come on too strong. I may even look frightening to this old guy. I must look scary after all, look at me. I am huge and carrying a club, I'm not even wearing pants... I know, I know. I'll just start easy and reassure him I am not a murder hobo. I am a normal guy.
"H-hobo" the Jeffery eventually stuttered out. His eyes going wide hearing his own voice and recognises the lack of follow up. His eyes darted down to his hands still holding the bowl full of still steaming stew.
That was not ideal.
The old man raised a big bushy eyebrow at the comment. But said nothing immediately, instead taking in another mouthful of the soup he had made. It was not good, it was bad even.
The silence was not long to most, but to Jeffery it was an age, an eon. The silence stretched and stretched. The weight of it growing uncontrollably. He felt that in his new body he could punch through steel or lift a mountain. Yet the weight of this silence was crushing, it was unbearable. He couldn't think of anything except the silence. He tried to move but found his limbs chained by the oppression of his gaff.
"I won't blame you if you don't want to eat it, ill be the first to say its not the best. But you should really put on the clothes at least." The old man broke the silence after an eternity freeing Jeffery from the frozen stasis he had found himself in.
I can move again! what a relief. But wait, now the poor man thinks I don't like his stew. I haven't even had any yet! I should have some. But he said to put on the clothes. Which am I meant to do first? Is it rude to eat now? Will it seem insincere? But if I don't he will really think I don't like his stew. I should just have some, then put the clothes on. Yes. Right. Thats a normal thing to do.
"Errg" Jeffery managed after several moments had passed.
SHITSHITSHITSHIT
With blinding speed the embarrassed Jeffery brought the steaming soup to his wide open mouth and guzzled it down in a single swig.
Before the old man could even utter a word in shock, Jeffery was in a sprint disappearing into the darkness of the forest that still surrounded them. In seconds he had crossed hundreds of yards, weaving effortlessly though the complex terrain as if it were an open track.
"The inhabitants of this world truly are a bizarre bunch" the old man said to no-one in particular as he poured the rest of his bowl onto the fire.
"Meow" came the reply from a small tabby cat that emerged silently from beneath a small shrub nearby and began its lazy walk towards its Master.
"I was wondering where you got off to. I hope you had a better dinner than I did."
The familiar gave another meow in response as he butted his head up against the old mans folded leg, before leaping softly onto his lap and lying down in a small bundle.