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Prologue
Gremlins live underground in small room sized burrows. They are short, only about four feet tall so they don't take up a lot of space. Gremlins don't usually live in caves or mines as many humans think, due to their fear of goblins and trolls, and especially of dwarves. It is a myth that sunlight harms gremlins but for their own protection they mostly come out at night.
Gremlins have green leathery skin, with thin arms and legs, along with sharp claws on both their hands and feet. They rarely eat meat or hunt, preferring to eat roots and weeds. They have large eyes that give them great night vision and pointy ears for even better hearing. They are quick and agile, capable of short intense dashes of energy that make them dangerous if backed into a fight.
Gremlins raise their young together and most become independent by the age of twelve or thirteen. Their average lifespan is only about fifty years but illness and premature death is almost unknown to them. Gremlins also rarely use magic but do have some natural immunity to spells, potions, curses, and especially poisons.
Their communities usually consist of 20 to 30 gremlins in separate holes, hidden in hard to reach parts of a forest or mountainside. They trade and barter with each other and value well crafted items such as pots, silverware, and tools. They don't usually collect weapons though fiercer gremlins do carry knives or blades. Gremlins produce most of their own goods including: candles, shoes, clothes, and even furniture. Throughout most known time gremlins have never made anything as complex as a spy glass, a compass, or even a crossbow, and when they find or steal such items they tend to disassemble them, as much for scrap material as for their own natural curiosity. This has led humans to believe that gremlins enjoy destroying things and creating havoc.
But times were changing...
Chapter 1.
Obran's favorite time of the day was the morning unlike most gremlins who dislike sunlight. That morning Obran was outside his gremlin burrow collecting weeds and tending his garden—it was his typical morning ritual. Like most gremlins, Obran loved eating weeds and in the morning dew their flavor was most intense and crisp, so every morning he would gather enough weeds for the whole day. Obran took great pride in his cooking, especially his weed stew and he'd taught himself about all their varieties including: clover, flatweed, dandelion, and more importantly how to mix them with mushrooms, roots, and veggies, with the perfect blend of herbs and spices.
"Weed stew, weed stew, how I love my weed stew," Obran sang in a slightly screechy, but sweet voice. "Crisp and tart, with some bark; how I love my weed stew, especially with a dark brew."
He had collected a bagful of ingredients and was ready to return to his gremlin burrow when a human voice called out from behind him.
"Weed stew?" A young woman's voice said, "You mean you actually eat weeds?"
Obran was startled. He slowly laid his bag down, keeping his arms wide by his sides; he wanted to look as harmless as possible since he knew many humans would find any excuse to hurt a gremlin. He turned around slowly and saw a young woman sitting on a horse just a few feet away. Obran stared at her but couldn't say a word; he was only focused on how much danger he was possibly in.
"Are you a gremlin? I've never seen a gremlin before," the young woman said. "I was told this forest was full of gremlins. I hope it is ok that I'm here."
Obran continued to stare, his mouth now wide open. "She's beautiful," he thought. The young woman had a thin frame and wore a long white tunic dress; she had large green eyes and flowing black hair.
"Mister gremlin, sorry if I am rude but I thought gremlins eat grubs and beetles, worms and such," she said.
Obran quickly regained a bit of his senses; his large ears perked up and he looked around her for companions. No human girl would be alone outside the walls of the capital, especially not in the gremlin forest or any forest for that matter. But she appeared unarmed and he didn't see or hear anyone else. Something is wrong, he thought.
"Did I startle you? Don't be afraid. I'm not here to hurt you," she said.
"Is this a trap?" Obran said. "You're not allowed to hunt us anymore." Obran now stared at her hoping she'd give away the locations of her companions. He crouched down, ready to spring into action.
"I'm sorry I came without permission. It's just that I've never seen a gremlin before," she said. "May I know your name Mr. gremlin? My name is...".
Obran didn't wait for her to finish. He dove head first into the nearest shrub, and ran in a mad dash, quickly covering over thirty feet. Tired, he hid behind a tree and turned back to see if anyone was following him. But the young woman was still on her horse, looking a bit dejected and confused and Obran wondered how she was able to get so close to him without him noticing her; in his experience humans usually made a lot of noise. Maybe it was my singing, he thought, or maybe I'm getting soft.
"Mr. Gremlin, Mr. Gremlin," the girl called out. "Farewell. Sorry if I scared you. I hope we can talk sometime. My name is Victoria by the way."
Victoria turned her horse and galloped off on the path away from his gremlin burrow. Obran walked slowly back to the main trail but there was no sign of anyone else. She had been alone...strange. Now he felt embarrassed about running away. A real soldier would never behave that way, he thought, but I haven't been a soldier in a while. Yet he'd heard no malice in her voice, only curiosity. Obran had run into plenty of creatures who wanted to kill or enslave gremlins and she definitely didn't seem like one.
"And she's so beautiful," he thought. He'd seen human females before but none as striking as her and none had ever appealed to him before but something about her seemed different. The way the sun reflected off her hair, and green eyes, like a nymph in a forest. Even her voice did not sound Roman.
"Ok...if I ever see her again, I'll talk to her...definitely, yes...definitely," he thought.
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