Snooze opened her eyes, but everything was still pitch black.

 

Great, am I in a different void? Did I die? AGAIN?!

 

Her arms felt snug at her sides, so much so that she wasn’t sure she could move, a very frightening prospect to the god. After testing this scientific theory for a moment, she found that she could, however, wiggle her fingers and her toes, but she was having particular difficulty with anything else. One thing that Snooze did notice was that there wasn't anything confining her head movement. She could freely turn it, and felt that she’d be able to move it forward--so that seemed like a charming bit of mercy. She tried to sit up but she immediately banged her head against a hard surface. Fighting through blinding pain, Snooze dropped back into her original position. 

 

Was that stone?! Where am I?

 

She still couldn’t see anything no matter how she strained, and in addition to that, was suffering through a serious case of head-hurty and arm-constricty. 

 

I’d better not be stuck under the bed again.

 

She’d gone through a phase in her young former-life where she’d frequently fall asleep on top of her bed, under the covers, warm and cozy, only to stir in the middle of the night, waking to find herself uncomfortably positioned on the painful floor wedged under the box spring. It was something she never quite figured out, and had always puzzled her. However, she’d grown since then, and gone to many child-leaning counselors, and before her untimely demise and jettison into the world of goddom, had only done it a handful more times after graduating.

 

But this slab just in front of her upturned face didn’t feel like a box spring at all. Those were made of wood and metal, and though they were often hard, there was a certain springiness to their substance. This, however, felt like she’d collided with concrete! She knew she was in some sort of predicament, but wasn’t sure how to best resolve it. Beyond that, her muscles felt sore, and there was an unwelcome kink in her neck as she’d obviously been resting with poor posture.

 

How long have I been asleep? Snooze wondered, though, she thought she knew just the speciesless specter to ask.

 

“Book,” she said aloud, and noticed how stilted and muffled her voice was, “where am I?”

 

She waited a moment, expecting a chirp and a merry screen full of chipper verbiage waxing non sequitur. However, after sitting there in the quiet dark for much longer than she thought possible, there was no answer.

 

“Book?” Snooze said again, “is this some sort of game?”

 

Silence. This actually began to worry the god, and she wriggled around, trying to loose herself urgently from whatever cloistering binds she was in. As she did, she couldn't help but notice how refreshed she had been feeling--save for the cramping muscles and likely huge goose-egg-knot on her forehead. While not completely spirited, Snooze absolutely felt as though she’d had at least a couple of hours of rest, and was convinced that some of her power must have returned. She made a mental inventory of what she’d chambered for her Ritual Command. Finally, after a bit more squirming, she was able to worm one single digit free-- the ring finger on her right hand. She forced it up and away from the other fingers as much as she could in the close quarters, and then concentrated on her god spell.

 

“Fire.”

 

To her extreme delight, a tiny little flame appeared. Snooze allowed a moment for her eyes to grow used to the light, and saw that the remarkable little plume of flickering ignition hovered just above her finger tip, highlighting the area around her so that she could better see her unusual predicament. 

 

She appeared to be in a long, slender vessel made of lacquered stone. It looked to Snooze to be very much like a coffin, and that caused her considerable anxiety to be sure. Her mind bubbled up with wild imaginings of shuffling skeletons, and veiny, bloated undead monstrosities grabbing her ankles and yanking her into the darkness. She shook her head. It wouldn’t do her any good service to dwell on those obviously fantastical visualizations, and considered that it would be much more helpful if she were to desperately try to rid herself of these bogeymen and focus on the task at hand. 

 

She’d never been in this particular mode of experience before now, and as such, it was understandable that it would cause her some distress. Snooze took a deep breath, banishing the last images of ghouls, demons, and crawly bugs and worms from her mind, and examined herself.

 

She had humanoid features, and from the dim flicker of magically summoned firelight she could see that she was dressed in a simple woolen gown dyed in a faded lilac color. On her feet--which she could only just make out-- were simple, single-strap sandals made of some dark, shiny material she was unfamiliar with. Beneath her clothing, she noticed that her skin still had the rosy hue of the Stonies. Snooze appeared to still be in her Avatar form. She sighed in relief as she realized she was not, in fact, dead again. 

 

Though, it was troubling to think she’d somehow ended up in a stone box. 

 

She was thankful that she’d been given actual clothing instead of remaining in her fabricated grass costume, but why was she wearing different clothes, and who had done it? She could not imagine the possible necessity of garment reallocation, except that perhaps the wind had blown it away when she fell into her slumber, as her magic began crumbling. Now that she thought about it, that made the most sense to her, so she admitted that she was wrong, and there was indeed a way she could imagine the possible necessity, and now that she was thinking about it, she thought perhaps she remembered a vague draftiness in and around her bikini area before her very great and very embarrassing fall into the stupor of unconsciousness.

 

She gently moved her ring finger around attempting to cast light around the inside of this sarcophagus, and was able to make out a few rudimentary glyphs etched into along the sides of her container as well as the lid above her. However, it wasn’t in any language that she understood, which perplexed her (though not as much as it probably should have.)

 

The Stonies had not yet developed a form of writing, so she knew that it could not be they who had done this, which made it a tad more unsettling. Could another god have gotten involved? She squinted at the typography of the glyphs and sighed. She supposed they could have been godly runes, but she had no way of telling for sure. 

 

Was there a god language? Is that what I use when I interact with Book and Meat? Is it what I’m using right now?

 

Try as she might, she couldn’t quite generate an answer to that question. She was sure she’d spoken a human language to Riff. She’d gotten the chocolate bar correct, at least.

 

She thought about Riff, and how she’d had to banish her. Her heart was heavy. But even more upsetting was the fact that Snooze didn’t see a trace at all of the candy that she’d procured.

 

If someone made off with my friendship treat, so help me...

 

Snooze decided she’d had just about enough sitting around wondering in the claustrophobic dark--thank you very much, and wanted to get to the bottom of this mystery. She focused again, and narrowed her eyes at the lid of the chamber.

 

“Air,” she commanded.

 

A rustling breeze filled the space, and she directed it at the roof of stone, slowly increasing the intensity until she heard a grinding sound. Then, very carefully, she wrested the top of the vessel up and to the side, sitting up, her body and limbs free.

 

“Oh goodness!” she exclaimed, stretching her arms and legs into the air from her seated position and wrenching them in every possible angle to work all of the knots out. She gave a few rough punches to the air to mobilize her joints, and then did the same for her legs with a few expert kicks.

 

Once she’d finally twisted and popped her body back into the usual arrangement she raised the little flame up higher, and increased its power slightly to light the room and better survey her surroundings. 

 

Everything was dank, dark, dusty, and crafted from old stone--likely the same kind that her coffin was made out of. Every visible surface was completely caked in either grime, dirt or a surprising overabundance of fungal overgrowth. Several one-foot-tall mushrooms had pushed up from the wall, their dull white color catching the light and looking monstrously slimy. There were no windows, nor any source of light beyond her finger lighter, and this caused the place to have a precipitous chill and a powerfully earthen scent. Snooze mused that it would likely have been quite the pleasant nose journey if it didn’t remind her of laundry left in the wash overnight. 

 

Beyond the first aura of light, she could see the vaguest intimations of a passage thirty feet away that sloped up into farther darkness. Snooze looked down and noticed that her stone container was on some sort of platform, constructed of the same material as the rest of the area, but had been crafted intentionally to give the presence of stairs. The raised section dropped at a severe downward angle, and Snooze could see that the actual ground was about ten feet below.

 

“Meat?” she called out, listening to her voice echo back to her distantly, “...Book?” 

 

Nothing.

 

She called out a few more times--quite futilely it’s important to note--and when there was no answer, she finally began climbing down to the dais. She turned around and saw that the stone box she’d been in very much looked like a coffin. It was roughly five feet long and from what she had been able to tell, perhaps two feet deep. There’d certainly not been enough room to do much other than lay around. 

 

“Why was I in that thing, though?” she wondered softly. Surely they hadn’t thought she had died? 

 

She ran her hand over the smooth, lacquered coffin and felt slender grooves pressed into the flesh of the stone. Around the lip of the open tomb, Snooze recognized the same mysterious glyphs that were etched on the lid. They were hewn all the way around the stone in an unbroken loop, each shape in perfect harmony of size with the others and were curiously well-formed. She traced the rough contours of the runic shapes, and when she brought her fingers up, she could see dark smudges of grotty dust.

 

“Well, that’s just rude…” Snooze said, “not only did they deposit me in a coffin, they didn’t even clean it first.”

 

To Snooze, the glyphs looked old, and she felt foolish for not realizing that some Stonies must have learned how to make these patterns and designs as art. To the god, this was the only possibility. It couldn’t be anything else could it?

 

At the top of the staircase, in a shallow recess in the stone, her finger flame caught the sparkle of something, and when she leaned down to inspect, she found a small portion of shimmer gemstones. Many varieties of color and shapes greeted her, and she smiled. 

 

“Someone left me a gift,” she said. Snooze wanted to take them with her (as they were very shiny,) but she came to the realization that she had no knapsack or other bag to carry the jewels in. Then she noticed something. On either side of her light gown, near the hip, she saw a fold of fabric. She slipped her hands to the folds and realized with a start that the fabric hid small cloth bags inside, seemingly stitched right into the gown itself.

 

“It has POCKETS!” she announced, and greedily shoved the jewels into her dress.

 

Snooze took her time descending the stairs. There were sections where the stone was crumbled or all-together broke, so she was careful to step where the rock was sure. Once she reached the bottom--a feat in its own right--she moved through the dim chamber cautiously, keeping her little flame aloft. 

 

She found that she wasn’t able to make the flame much bigger, and figured that it was because of her recent tumble. She’d have to be sure to get some proper relaxation in order once she returned to her plane, but she wanted to figure out why she was placed in such a strange location.

 

Perhaps because of her unusual predicament, Snooze did not give much thought to the formation of such detailed stonework. This was unlike any structure she’d ever seen the Stonies create, but that information, while pertinent to this juncture, would not be considered. For the moment.

 

Snooze padded up the sloping hallway, her sandals making a soft slap against the rough floor. She struggled a little at cresting to the top, but when she finally reached the slippery summit, she stood in front of a thin square of light. It took her a moment to realize that this was the outline of a doorframe, and that it was sunlight that highlighted the cracks of a closed door. 

 

“This must lead outside,” she said, and as she neared, the light from her finger torch revealed that the door was covered with a thick overgrowth of vines and weeds, banded together and weaving through themselves in a thick blanket of platlife that barred her further passage.

 

Snooze focused on her Plantlife Godspell, and with a lot of concentration, sent out magic that began unknotting the twisting barricade. As she watched the vines unwind, she noticed the finger flame began to flicker and dim. She must have gotten less rest than she thought, because it seemed that using two Godspells at once was a might bit taxing on her capabilities. So she snuffed the flame, and directed all of her will toward the Plantlife spell.

 

After several minutes, the growth of flora was thin enough that it seemed as though she would be able to open it. With a lurch, she pressed all of her body weight against the door, and slowly it began to strain against the snare until CRASH, it opened suddenly and poor Snooze tumbled forward into the tall, thick grass on the other side.

 

She lay in the grass for a moment, her eyes closed, feeling the soft texture against her skin. Then she opened her lids to reveal a great wonder.

 

A magnificent, lush forest greeted her. Large, sturdy trees canopied overhead and copious armies of flowers and mushrooms filled the clearing that she lay in. She could see lots of her little insects, Buzzyboys, Titterthings, Fakemichaels, and Definitely-Going-To-Become-A-Problems moving about in harmony. She also saw tiny Veronicas scampering through the tree branches, and a Snub Nosed Not-Rabbit watching cautiously from a few dozen feet away.

 

Snooze happily registered that she was still on her world.

 

She didn’t recognize this particular copse of trees, but she chalked it up to her exhaustion. She knew that she’d get her bearings soon enough, so she was largely unconcerned--perhaps blissfully so. 

 

Snooze spent the better part of an hour moving along an overgrown path through the wood. It took her much longer than it might take anyone else for she stopped every few feet to smell a flower, or run her hands through a small stream, or watch an insect make its arduous trek across a fallen log. She basked in her creation, and for not the first time since its onset, she smiled at the flourishing life.

 

Eventually, Snooze arrived at something that even she found quite strange.

 

As she pushed her way through to the end of the path, she found herself on a small rise of dirt overlooking a confusing terrain feature. A wide ribbon of forest had been lay bare, and only packed dirt remained stretching as far as she could see in either direction. One end curved through the dense forest and disappeared around a bend while the other side seemed to stretch to the deepest perceivable distance. In the dirt were a myriad of animal tracks that must have taken a number of passages to create and she chuckled at the idea that there were indeed still yet-unearthed elements of her own world she had no knowledge of.

 

Snooze wasn’t sure, but it almost looked like an intentionally-created road. But that couldn’t possibly be. The Stonies had not yet developed the higher capabilities to necessitate such a route. Perhaps it was a shortcut between two areas of gatherings that was so well-traveled it had begun to take this shape?

 

It is important to note that while others may have started to pick up on the direction her forthcoming revelation would take, Snooze was still laboring under the assumption that she had only been asleep for a short time. But, it may be obvious at this point that this was not the case.

 

To emphasize the point, suddenly, Snooze heard the thunder of some approaching beast.

 

She looked down the path to the bend just as a shape shot out from its depths.

 

Snooze was stunned.

 

It appeared at first to be a Zuzu--the gentle, four-legged beasts that lived in close proximity to many Stonie settlements-- however, where the Zuzu had been perhaps five foot tall at their largest, this Zuzu was as a king among them at a towering six, perhaps, six-and-a-half feet tall at the back. Its wide head and long, sloping face bore a mask--no, a harness, while its long ears that usually lay lank and straight down were plastered back with the force of its run. It’s normally gray-brown fur was a russet red color--a unique variation, and looked as though it had been groomed and trimmed as it was no longer the wild tangles of its usual style. The strangest part though, was that there was a Stonie riding it.

 

Much bigger than any Stonie she’d grown to know, this creature still had the appearance of a youth. She wore leather--also odd, and quite advanced (to Snooze’s understanding) and on her hip was another curious object: a long, flat piece of metal. If Snooze hadn’t known any better, she’d have thought it was something akin to a sword or a machete. But that couldn’t be right… the Stonies had not developed weapons of that caliber. Theirs were relegated to mostly hunting tools, and even those were impractical for use in defense against other Stonies. Snooze’s ability to ignore rather unsettling details was part of her greater charm, however, it was also dangerous when coupled with the knowledge of changes that she was severely lacking.

 

The Stonie spotted her suddenly, and reared back on the Zuzu, stopping it in its tracks. The large beast stamped its paws impatiently in the dirt, but didn’t defy its rider.

 

“Halt, goon!” the rider declared. Her voice particularly highlighted her young age as it was of an elevated timbre and dripped with suspicion and fear. She was surely not one accustomed to a dominating role, though her pretense at appearing dangerous was as meritable as it was adorable.

 

“Goon?” Snooze said aloud. This was perplexing indeed. 

 

“Stay your pace,” the rider commanded, “be you foe brigand come to relieve me of my belongings, you’ll find I have none but my zealous blade--which I will use to rend you crown to heel if you give pursuit!”

 

Snooze stared. The girl on the Zuzu was using Pebbletongue, but it was a much more articulated version. Snooze felt that it was a more pronounced, and esteemed variant of the normally simple and stunted phrases she was used to. Snooze wasn’t sure how she understood it well enough, nor was she sure how she would be able to respond, but she just decided to go for it.

 

“I am no… foe brigand, as you say,” Snooze said, lifting her hands in what she hoped was still a symbol of peace, “I am a simple traveler who seems to have hit her head much too hard. Pray, can you tell me where I am?”

 

The rider scowled, and moved a little closer to get a better measure of the woman standing on the big dirt clod. Snooze too, was able to get a better look at the girl and realized she’d been wrong.

 

While her features definitely had an element of Meatling ancestry, there was a difference in her physical form that struck her as a tad off. Her jaw was more defined, and her eyes were more equal-distance apart than the usual Ngak, who had wide-set eyes. Her coloring was different as well. While most Stonies had the rosy hue of skin, this girl had an almost blue-ish tint, her eyes too had distinct pupils that were almost triangular--while her irises were an icy blue. Snooze was not sure she was full Stonie. What was more, was that Snooze didn’t recognize the girl. She knew all of her creations, but she was starting to catch on to something that I’m sure more observant folk would have already begun to suspect.

 

“You are on the Farak Road that cuts through the Agga Forest,” the girl said, “...in the Wulket of Mert, under the domain of the thirty-eighth Wulk, Zaya Dela.”

 

Having an understanding of the Pebbletongue language, but not all of these interesting and fun-sounding words, Snooze started to make some connections.

Wul, was the Ngak word for “tribe,” or “clan.” However, Snooze also knew that adding the “ke,” sound to the end of a word was indicative of being in charge of it. For instance, gathering, in Pebbletongue was, “tcha,” then the lead gatherer of the Stonies would be called the “tchake,” or in this case, dropping the “e,” would make the word, “tchak,” and indicated that the lead Ngak was female. But tribe leaders were typically called “uru,” which meant “first.” It would be strange to use such a descriptive term for the head tribesman, especially because “ke” implied authority. Tribe leaders were subject to their villagers or family, and anyone could speak out against them if they didn’t like a decision. However, gathering leaders were considered the absolute penultimate of their craft, and to go against them would likely put everyone in danger because their knowledge was so steadfast. But, even so, Wulk meant something akin to “ the most authoritative female tribe leader.”

 

That sounds like a queen, Snooze laughed internally.

 

“Et,” was a word that was indicative of a stretch of territory, and the Stonies only used it for other animals, never themselves as they believed in sharing of the land. Wulket would have meant, for lack of a better term, something of a Kingdom.

 

Or a Queendom, in this instance…

 

Snooze was beginning to get a clearer picture of the predicament she was truly in.

 

“I make apologies for my ignorance,” Snooze said, “but are you Ngak?”

 

The girl chuckled nervously, and shook her head as if she thought Snooze might be stupid.

 

“Of course not,” she said, “only a fool would ask a question as daft as that!”

 

This kid is rude, Snooze thought, I should knock her off that horse with a couple of sick Air spells.

 

“Why is that?” she asked instead.

 

The girl squinted at her, pausing for a while before answering.

 

“Because the Ngak have not existed for several hundreds years…”

 

Snooze felt her leap, and she wanted to scream.

 

What? Several hundred YEARS? She didn’t quite know how to process the information. She’d been asleep for hundreds of years? AT LEAST? She felt dizzy. Things began to make more sense to her as she thought about her entire trek through the tomb and forest. Nothing had seemed quite right. Of course, others, perhaps anyone else who may have been viewing these events might have already figured that out, but Snooze was the sort to live in the moment and not bother with petty details. That moment just happened to be several centuries further than she’d thought. Though, it is worth noting that the level of advancement from a relative stone age, to something resembling a modicum of medieval-ness does not happen in just a few centuries. No, Snooze would soon learn that she’d been asleep even longer than she currently believed.

 

The rider clicked her tongue and spurred the Zuzu on along the road.

 

“I cannot tarry any longer, wood wench!” she said, racing past Snooze before she could get clarifying questions, “ I’ve got important matters to attend to!”

 

Snooze felt her only recourse was a simple one if she wanted more information.

 

“Where are you heading!?” she called after the rider, feeling an uncomfortable cramp in her stomach.

 

“If a brigand must know,” the girl said, her hand on the weapon at her side, “I am traveling to the Village of Gens, on orders.”

 

“Can you give me a lift?” Snooze asked.

 

The rider looked nervous at the prospec, tightening the grip on the weapon.

 

“I can pay!” Snooze announced, and slipped her hand into her pocket and removed a gem at random. She lifted a decently-sized flaming orange stone from within and presented it into the sunlight where the rider could see it. The sun’s rays caught it, and the stone seemed alive with a burning fury.

 

The rider bit her lip. Snooze didn’t know much about relative wealth in this changed landscape for her, but she did know that based on the girl’s very thin appearance and dirt-caked clothing she’d likely not had much money. 

 

“Alright,” the girl said, “but no further than Gens.”

 

“Excellent!” Snooze announced, and scampered forward. The girl, though quite thin, was strong, and easily lifted the god onto the back of the Zuzu and into place behind her. Snooze handed her the gem, and the girl eyed it feverishly for a moment, before stuffing it into the pouch at her waist. Snooze couldn’t believe how quickly the girl had agreed. She’d expected at least some sort of push back.

 

“Let’s go,” the rider said, spurring the Zuzu forward, “I must deliver my orders before nightfall.”

 

“What orders?” Snooze asked.

 

The girl threw a final look over her shoulder.

 

“The Rekvahn marches,” she said seriously.

 

Snooze was forced to consider the breakdown of language once again. Rek meant dead, or death, and vahn… that was trickier. Vahn meant something close to “master of their craft,” like a keen climber, or someone with great command of their skillset, like a wonderfully precise tool maker.

 

She tied the two together. 

 

Someone whom is a master of… the dead?

 

She paused, thinking about this, then fear gripped her. Arts were very real on her world, simple, but real. Every single Element that existed could potentially be accessed in some fashion by a lifeform, and if someone could control an Element that she herself was unable to…

 

She shook her head.

 

The last thing I need right now is a Necromancer.