Old Man John's back hurt and considering the situation that should not be the main concern he just died "greeting John I trust your death was not too painful?" an angelic voice whispered around his head causing John to tingle.
"Err no… I died in my sleep was rather pleasant"
"Wait what" the cosmic energy of light which had been given a voice stopped spinning absently forming a collection of stars together as a pseudo humanoid form "oh shit sorry John there's been a mix up, one I wont be able to stop it… you were supposed to be a young strapping lad full of piss and vinegar"
Old Man John kinda wanted to cover up his naked form something about a young feminine voice "supposed to be a rook or a bishop in this game able to do some real damage"
"Oh I like chess"
The collection of stars formed into a semi formed woman "I don't think you'll like this game John" The Universe Clicked her fingers creating a black hole in the process.
Old Man John didn't even get to blink before being removed from the great beyond's realm of chaos, naked and now cold.
Old Man John had been alive longer than most born just after a great war, becoming an adult during another one, living in a pre-city before modernisation. The little village he had appeared in reminded the old man of those youthful days.
But not all those youthful memories were pleasant the fire, the blood, the sound, the smell. There was violence around.
Fight or flight kicked in, erasing some very basic questions that needed answering "oh my back" with a disgusting crack Old Man John pulled to his feet in a hunched position and began to hobble without aid.
Stumbling upon a monster covered in fur from head to toe with an appearance of a small wolf only briefly second, Old Man John jumped in shock as a flash of silver came down and the bipedal beast in slow grotesque fashion split into two.
Still stunned, Old Man John briefly watched the corpse split in two discovering it was female from the inside but next on the sensory overload was the shining figure which had just split the corpse, a figure clad in armor it reminded John of a knight from some old story but the plate was silver shiny and much too clean.
The armor was unnerving and Intimidating it was setting alarm bells off in John's head he had seen nice uniforms before and normally it was the bad guys dressed the best, then in slow realization Old Man John took the burning village in full various figures bipedal furred, scaled and feather's "there's villagers and there being cut down in rage"
Only as that information hit the Old Man so did the back of a handle of a hilt knocking him clean out.
Motion sickness hit Old Man John which he only got motion sickness on boats, but John was warm and could feel his nakedness covered by something furry "oh my head' Old Man John groaned as he sat forward his small blanket squeaking after falling off him "oh… im sorry" the small figure was. Ferret girl or woman John could not tell.
Old Man John ignored the furry creature returning to him for warmth and examined the dark space he was in, taking in the next group of bodies seeking warmth in patches of sunlight through a crack in the wall.
"Ahright ole maan" Old Man John was looking at a three foot something chained figure almost like a tiny crocodile chained to the floor bloody and messed up from obviously having a scrap.
"Yes thank you… are you okay, maybe miss?" Old Man John had eyes and remembered the aspects of a female form.
"Welp I've been better" the voice was gruff but still a female's Old Man John was more worried about the slow dripping sound as blood speckled around the tiny form.
"Where are we?" Old Man John was becoming aware of something furry and warm, maybe a tail encasing his balls in heat.
"Elvefs mustta hit your head pretty hard Ol' Man" John's head bump had been bleeding by the dried marooning blood on his face it mst have clotted over.
Old Man John didn't skip a beat this time. If there were tiny animal people why wouldn't there be pointy eared almost humans "So where are we?"
"bowels of an elf slave ship... congratulations on becoming a slave"
"Oh dear…"
John listened to the voices of tiny victims and tried to make sense of a mixture of information, two major things when you get past 80 the first is wondering what new joint pain is going to start next.
The second you really have to bullet new information so it's easier to take in the brain wasn't what it used to be.
John had died and apparently was resurrected in another world or reality, annoying to John was that he was still old, not that a young John could save a tiny Disneyland village of cute creatures from twenty silver clad pointy eared knights.
The reasons were always the same for war and John could summarize it from the tiny moans around him, starting with political unrest which might be fabricated or true in this case it was some elf-kin and the free people of these sweet woods.
Old Man John did notice these silver armored elves were described as always being white..
"I'm old fashioned and haven't seen slavery, what do they want us for?"
"Heh, don't lie old man ye bang your head forget what gender you are? ye don't worry will get you there"
Considering Mash's Jaw was bloodied and chained she was rather helpful in enlightening John rather quickly "small game, little ferrets and such will make a tasty treat for an Alabaster bitch"
Old Man John jumped as a tail coiled around unmentionables "the birds" Mash gestured up to the darkest corners which John "probably caged and harvested for mana product"
That comment went straight over the Old Man's head "me and you old man probably to the breeding pens increase the ranks of weird half elf fodder… what creature-race are you anyhow?"
Old Man John was wondering how much information to provide when the ship with the soon to be slaves rocked violently, after a pause it began.
The faint metallic noise in the distance like coins being dropped into a pile of larger coins, only briefly before several patter of tiny thumbs ran along the wall.
The occupant's of the ship huddled together ignoring the previous separation Old Man John now aware of a chicken-kin latched onto his head.
After that initial noise there was quiet silence which lasted too long. "Is it getting warmer?" The tiny bird's voice was like a harp in John's ear, distracting The Old Man from the growing heat.