Nimrod (02)

A large wooden door lay in front of the two, signifying their arrival to their destination. Alban wondered why they needed to have such a huge door...it was like 5 times taller than him. The doors tilted inwards, presenting the town of Nimrod for all to see. Nimra walked in, a skip in her step, while Alban carried his carefree attitude towards the town's confines.

"Hey Nimla! Hey Nimrith, how's your eye? Oh and hi, Nimetha! That dress looks pretty on you!" Nimra cheerfully greeted her fellow villagers while Alban took in the laid-backed vibe the town oozed. The three denizens Nimra was talking to looked pretty similar to her, the same purple hair and pointy ears. He was a bit curious as to how they looked so similar, when he continued hearing Nimra pour out names starting with "Nim."

"Are you all named Nim-something?" Nimra was pulled out of her compliments and regards and met Alban with an indignant expression upon her face. Now within the company of her community, she felt a lot more safer and could even retort to the wildman she brought here.

"No, her name is Mina!" Her voice and body moved in one fluid motion, as if to fully assert her statement. Her index finger was outstretched from her closed hand, clearly pointing towards a nimm girl in a skirt.

"Mina? Like, A nim backwards? Really?" Alban knew of some names being super similar among ones own community from his time on earth, but he had never seen it to this degree. It was absolutely absurd, to say the least. Nimra's expression haltered a bit before blooming into a smile just dripping with pride.

"Well, we're really connected and helpful to each other as proud nimms! So, why can't we share names a bit, it's our pride okay? Our. Pride! Of course, a lot of higher demons mock us for getting along so well...we aren't very smart in their eyes."

"How stupid are we talking here?"

"About as stupid as a human, hehe~"

Alban's face darkened a bit, and the wild aura he held within the boundaries of his skin was threatening to seep out. Nimra could tell what would happen next, she was the poor victim of him earlier! Not wanting her to torch her townsfolk, she quickly elaborated.

"It's just what the higher demons tell us! We all teach it in school, you've never seen a school right? Um, if I may ask, why are you so mad about humans anyways..."

Alban was unsure if he was being insulted further or placated, but he quickly searched for an answer to her question in his brain. He couldn't just admit he was a human(?), that would be horrible. If they teach the lower demons to call humans stupid, they might as well be livestock to the demons up top. 'Oh wait, I can use that aggression he just felt to his advantage...'

"Those damn upper demons and their stupid rules...tsk." Nimra's nodding head apprised Alban that his shot in the dark had indeed hit the target.

"Yeah, they're all stuck up and they suck. But y'know how it is in Nightmare, the stronger fist has the biggest impact...let me show you further around, we haven't even entered the town center!"

Nimra took him across the streets pointing at several smithies along the way. "Over there is the Nimrod School of Magic," she exclaimed as she pointed off to the right. Her finger was pointed at a shabby little two story building that looked composed of wood, much unlike the stone bricks the other structures were composed of. He was about to ask a question but was met by Nimra's back as she hurriedly sped along to the center of the village.

"And here we are at the plaza! The town well is right over in the middle but, ugh HE'S here again." Pointing as Alban figured she was wont to do, her index digit lead his gaze to a shabby looking nimm sitting right by the well.

He had a poetic air about him, a clean shaved face and countenance of a summer fading into autumn. He was truly handsome, his looks reaching a beauty as far as the elves, just as appealing as Nimra was herself. His purple hair was unkempt but didn't extend pst the confines of his face, the purple locks swaying all on their own. His thin tail was plucking at string on the harp he held tightly in his arms, his head slumped a bit.

"That nimm over there is Minlark, the fake prophet. He's such a trouble maker, he randomly sings in the middle of the night and like five times out of ten he'll be shouting random thing at passerby."

"I swear we kill him every morning cause he wakes one of us up. But the cheeky bugger won't die! I've lost count of the times I've done him in meself, hmph." The statement from a male nimm walking by brought the attention of the other villagers walking around. They all started to grumble and share their own times dealing with Minlark.

"Yeah, he was singing all night yesterday. How can he even keep up that lively behavior through all that sunlight, huh? It's unnatural I tell ya!"

"Pfft, that's nothing. One time he sat directly on my lawn and hollered about the sky falling or some shit. My ears were ringing all day..."

"Yeah well, you think that's bad? Alban, one time I was walking to the lake to wash off and the little creep followed me! And...it was to ask for me to buy him a pizza...the nerve!" The last statement was from Mina, her whole body just screamed out her discontent to all who saw her.

"You know, there's no reason to be so embarrassed. There wasn't much to see, so you can still get a husband..." A voice flowed along languidly, not too deep and not nearly high. It was a monotonous voice tinged with the chimes of hand-bells, his voice clear and fae-like. Of course, the townsfolk were sick of this voice but it was a truly pleasant noise when separated from its owner.

"Aye, he's right y'know."

"Even a broken clock is right twice a day, I guess..."

"Cheer up Nimra! Drink some milk and maybe ya'll grow up some day, BWAHAHA!" Both male and female voices alike sounded throughout the crowd, and all of them agreeing about Nimra's...flatness.

"You...bastards." Nimra pulled out her bow and began to wildly shoot arrows into the rabble, while the people in questions ran off speedily. All the arrows hit empty air, her shots clearly ineffective. Except one.

'Thunk.'

A huge, muscular looking nimm caught the arrow. He looked middle aged, but his body was full of such masculine vigor that it wouldn't be outlandish to call him a youth in his prime. His muscles even had muscles, for christ's sake!

"D-dad?? Um, I can explain...!"

"No time, Nimra. The festival will be starting soon and I'll need your help. All the villages in the area are coming."

"Ugh...including those stupid cyclops?" Nimra's previously frantic face shriveled up into an expression of disgust.

Alban took a backseat to the convo, hoping to extract some vital information from the two. He was a simple vagrant now, after all.