I had horns...
Not only that, my entire face looked like a bull, right down to a rather ornate ring in my nostrils. I only had a few moments to comprehend it all when the entrance flap to the tent opened, revealing another bull-man like me, except more lightly armored, and smaller in stature. Being able to see a full figure representation in full light made me realize exactly what I was. I'm a minotaur, right out of ancient Greek legend.
"My Lord Stormbringer. Our pickets have spotted the lead elements of the Elven Host. They are approaching in formation on our position. What are your orders?" The Minotaur, obviously my Aide, announced.I looked at him in shock for a few moments, seeing the obvious fear in his eyes at the news of the approaching forces, and my obvious discomfort. My mouth opened slightly to try to explain my situation, when suddenly my mind was flooded with a cascade of images and information. With confidence, I gave him short but concise orders on how to array our forces. Somewhere in my mind I knew my minotaur forces were outmatched by the Elves, my only hope to save us was superior strategy and tactics. Something I was very familiar with given the type of combat we faced.
I exited the tent to see the vast army around me. Minotaur foot soldiers and Berserkers, Warlords and Knights. Not only that, but Dragons, and God-men, Titans and beasts defying all description, bristling with weapons radiating obvious power and , for lack of a better word, magic. Looking around quickly to be sure I wasn't being observed, I raked one of my razor-sharp nails across the back of my hand, drawing a line of blood, and feeling a slight pain. "Well, that seals it. I'm not dreaming or hallucinating," I think to myself.
My Aide approaches leading a huge beast, obviously my mount. Ten feet tall and jet black in color, it's like no horse I have ever seen. With a wicked smile (I have fangs, too) I mount this strange creature, while a Giant hands me an evil looking sword almost as tall as I am. Seeing and hearing the signs of battle in the front ranks, I issue my final orders as my personal guard of bizarre creatures and beasts rally around me. Raising the blade easily above my head, feeling an un-natural power seep into my bones, I spur my mount forward at a charge, the thrill of anticipated battle surging through my body. I had never felt this alive piloting a mech.
We won the day due to superior tactics, something I gathered did not happen too often against these Elves. We buried our dead, and ate some of theirs (it didn't feel as odd as I thought, and roast elf really wasn't half bad).
I foraged the Elf Generals tents, collecting orders and various books that may provide me with clues to what had happened to me. This Elf seemed to be fairly well-read, and I found many histories which I read by lamp-light while sipping strong wine from his recently cleaned skull.
I was in a world with 3 major races. Minotaur, Human and Elf. There were also a myriad of creatures and monsters of all descriptions and sizes. It was an Age of Champions, with Generals fighting each other for dominance in tournaments similar to the KOTM battles I faced back in my...universe. They had Clans here as well, joining forces of all races together, vying for dominance in mass battles resembling our Clan Wars. As Generals, we also faced huge beasts, hundreds of feet tall, in combat. Only Generals of Power and might could defeat these beasts, and the rewards were great. Many weapons and armors could be made for our troops from the creatures we slew. There were others, thousands of us throwing ourselves at it in an attempt to bring down creatures the size of small towns. These should have been glorious battles, but bickering among the lords about prizes and effort lessened the fun, almost making the battles a chore.
I thrived in this world for quite some time. First as a recruit, then a teacher, as was my nature. But also as a leader of some of a faction within our Clan. I positioned my forces aggressively, taking victories where others did not see possibilities. Shifts in Clan politics lead to more responsibilities, and eventually total leadership over all our Clans factions. Three days later, disaster struck. Our world was dying, the sun about to set for the final time. The final days before Sunset were sad ones. Sacrifices were made to the Creator Gods to no avail. We went out in a blaze of raids and battle, but the victories rang hollow in our hearts. I slept lightly that last night, dreaming of flames and ruin.
I awoke in the morning, and instantly knew something was amiss. I had changed again. Some things seemed familiar, but there were many new sights to see and experience. This world had a certain Asian flair to it. There was a Tune of War in the air, and it seemed I was again in a Clan, with many around me who seemed familiar, yet also in new forms. We ruled this new world for some time, our family structure and wise leaders easily destroying all who faced us. Despite the dominance we had, something of this world felt oddly out of place. A sense of a spider pulling strings, a evil manipulation behind the scenes. This was a vile, evil world, created by evil creatures for one thing only. Profit. I could sense it in all we did. Every action sucked the wealth and power from my friends, giving them the appearance of power and prestige, but only creating the thirst for more. Eventually, those I called allies turned on me, and for the good of those who still backed me, I left , not with a feeling of defeat, but with a feeling of pride knowing I was walking away from a bad situation and a group that never really understood or knew me after all.
Other worlds passed by my eyes, in a blur of shapes, sounds and colors. Never staying more than a few moments before flitting away again into the kaleidoscope of images before me. A sharp pain struck me in the temple, the feeling of electricity surging through me in a familiar pattern. I passed out.
When I came to, I seemed to be in familiar surroundings. I was in the seat of my lead mech once again, the 'Kneel Before Ogg'. A quick check showed the rest of my lines arrayed on the Gateway platform, brightly shining in the noonday sun. The platform itself had seen better days, overgrown with vines and fallen trees. In the distance I recognized the mountains of my home. I caught my reflection on one of the displays, showing me the same face I've known all my life, for better or worse.
"What a crazy nightmare" I said aloud, as I began running diagnostic checks on all my mechs. Everything came up aces, which was a bit of a surprise after that Gateway malfunction or whatever it was. I was still slightly puzzled on how the platform could look this overgrown if I had just travelled onto it, but my head was still a bit clouded from the trip and the quite vivid hallucinations it had caused me. Deciding that a full check-up at a MedCenter was likely a good idea, I saddled up and began running start-up procedures when I saw it. The Time/Date stamp on the mechs cockpit Chronometer. It couldn't be. I pulled up linked data from the rest of my mechs, and they all read the same thing.
It was September, 3295....
Submitted by Hal Spencer #14143