บท 46: Imkrag
(Arthur POV)
I blink hard, wondering if I'm hallucinating. But no, he's still there. Gaunt, wide-eyed, with that unmistakable hunched posture. It's like Andy Serkis stepped out of my memories and into this world.
I lean forward, suddenly very interested. "What's your name?" I ask, trying not to sound too eager.
The creature – demon? goblin? I'm not even sure – blinks those massive eyes at me.
"I'm Imkrag, your royal highness," he says, his massive eyes fixed on me as he bows so low I half expect him to topple over.
I can't help but study him. He's not quite as thin as Gollum, and that afro is definitely a new look, but I can see the potential. With the right diet and some potions, he could definitely pull off the appearance. The hair we can work with.
"Are you a demon?" I ask, my curiosity getting the better of me.
"Well..." Imkrag hesitates, and I know that look. He looked like he had an identity crisis. It's like a person who's deciding if he's Asian or American.
"Well?" I prompt, trying to keep my tone gentle.
Imkrag glances around nervously before leaning in. "I can be a demon, your highness... But also..." He lowers his voice, "I'm an imp demon... And also a dwarf, your royal highness."
"Imp demon and a dwarf?" I mutter, intrigued. Now that's a combination you don't see every day.
Before I can respond, I catch snippets of not-so-whispered comments from the other actors.
"Hehe, no wonder he looked like that. He looks so ugly."
"An imp and dwarf like him thinks he can get a role with his appearance? Heh."
I feel a flash of anger, but I force myself to ignore them. However, I can see Imkrag's affected by the comments. Time for a distraction.
"Is it natural for an imp and dwarf like you to have a hunched posture like that?" I ask, gesturing to his Gollum-like stance.
Imkrag straightens up, looking embarrassed. "No, your highness. I've just did that posture because I'm imitating Gollum from the script."
I nod, a smile playing on my lips. This guy's certainly done his homework.
Klein leans in, his voice barely above a whisper. "Boss, he's too... well, ugly for the role. We demons might not care, but the other races? They'll hate it."
Mercy nods, chiming in, "Yeah, we're after the right look for Gollum, right? This guy doesn't cut it."
I have to bite back a laugh. If only they knew. They're so hung up on appearances because I didn't spell out Gollum's full description in the script. Just his body language and height. Same for the other characters. Sometimes, less is more.
I level a steady gaze at them. "You don't get to decide who I choose."
Their mouths snap shut so fast I swear I hear teeth click.
Imkrag's shoulders slump, his big eyes downcast. "Um... Your royal highness... I guess I won't be getting the role..." His voice is heavy with disappointment as he turns to leave.
"Wait." My voice is quiet, but it freezes him in his tracks.
He turns back, fear flickering across his face. Poor guy probably thinks I'm going to humiliate him like the rest. But what comes next shocks everyone, Imkrag included.
"You will get the role of Gollum. Still want to leave?"
Imkrag's eyes go wider than I thought possible. "Is... Is this a joke, your highness?"
I can't help but smile at his disbelief. "Not a joke. You'll definitely be in the project."
The room erupts into shocked murmurs. Klein and Mercy look like they've been slapped with a wet fish. But Imkrag? The hope dawning on his face makes it all worth it.
Sometimes, you've got to trust your gut in this business. And right now? My gut's telling me we've found our Gollum.
***
(Imkrag POV)
I can't believe my ears. Did I just get chosen for the role?
"Will you be part of my project?" His Royal Highness Arthur asks, his piercing gaze fixed on me. The infamous youngest prince of the Morningstar family, known for his unconventional ways, is actually offering me a chance?
As a failed actor and contortionist, I should be jumping at this opportunity. But a part of me fears it's just another cruel joke. Still, I can't let this slip away.
"I want to be part of your project, Your Highness!" I blurt out, my voice a mix of excitement and trepidation.
"That's very good," Arthur says, a smile playing on his lips. He stands up and, in one fluid motion, leaps down from the raised platform, landing right in front of me.
I flinch instinctively as he reaches out, memories of past humiliations flashing through my mind. How many times have I been tossed around like a ragdoll by other demons? I squeeze my eyes shut, bracing for impact.
But it never comes.
I crack open an eye to find Arthur smiling at me, his hand resting gently on my shoulder. "I've got high hopes for you, Imkrag," he says, his voice warm. "Come to Hellfire Studios tomorrow morning. We'll discuss your role preparation."
The kindness in his words is too much. I feel my eyes well up as I drop to my knees. "Thank you very much, Your Highness!"
To my surprise, Arthur crouches down to my level. "Alright, no need for a scene," he says, his tone gentle but firm. "You're a demon and a dwarf. You need to be confident and brave. Don't let anyone look down on you."
I look up at him, my heart swelling with gratitude and newfound determination.
"Don't forget who you are," he continues. "Be proud of your demon heritage, but also draw strength from your dwarf side. Both make you unique."
I nod, wiping away my tears. "I'll take those words to heart, Your Highness."
Arthur stands, gesturing towards the exit. "Go on now. We've got more auditions to get through, and we don't want to hold things up."
"Right away, Your Highness," I say, scrambling to my feet. I bow once more before hurrying out of the warehouse.
I can feel the envious glares of the other actors burning into my back, but for once, I don't care.
Who would've thought? I showed up at that audition running on fumes and desperation. Hell, I was half-expecting the infamous prince to use me as his personal punching bag for laughs. Wouldn't be the first time I've been the butt of some high-born's joke.
These past few weeks, my stomach's been more empty than full. The circus where I work – or worked, I guess – was about to kick me to the curb. Some hotshot imp came along, bending himself into pretzels that make my contortions look like a rusty gate hinge.
And my acting career? Let's just say it's been on life support since day one. No agency would touch me with a ten-foot pole. The few roles I managed to snag were blink-and-you'll-miss-it extras. Half the time, I'd drag my family to see my big screen debut, only to find my scenes cut or my face hidden behind the lead actor's elbow.
I was circling the drain, no two ways about it. So when His Royal Highness dangled that olive branch in front of me, you bet I snatched it up, thorns and all. Infamous prince or not, beggars can't be choosers, right?
Now, I can barely contain myself thinking about tomorrow. It's like someone lit a fire under me, and for once, it's not because I'm being chased out of town.
As I make my way back to the outer city of Ferland, to the place I hesitate to call home, I can't wipe the grin off my face. Our house is more patchwork than building at this point, held together by hope and stubborn determination. But when I burst through the door, shouting about landing a big role, you'd think I'd just announced we'd won the royal lottery.
My family's faces light up, and for a moment, our cramped, leaky home feels like a palace. Ma's eyes well up, Pa claps me on the back so hard I nearly topple over, and my little sister starts dancing around the room, singing about how her brother's going to be a star.
For the first time in what feels like forever, there's laughter in our house. Real, genuine laughter. Not the bitter chuckles we usually share over our misfortunes.
บท 47: Miniature models
(Arthur POV)
The sun's barely up, and I'm already unlocking the studio doors. To my surprise, there's Imkrag, our half-imp, half-dwarf Gollum, looking like he's been camped out all night.
I can't help but smile. "You're here early. Excited?"
Imkrag's practically vibrating with nervous energy. "Yes, Your Royal Highness. I'm very excited for the role."
I chuckle, shaking my head. "Hey, ease up on the 'Your Highness' bit, alright? I'm not exactly rolling in royal status these days."
"Understood, Your High—" Imkrag catches himself, flushing. "I mean..."
"Arthur's fine. Or Sir Arthur if you're feeling fancy. Boss works too." I give him what I hope is a reassuring smile. "Whatever makes you comfortable."
"Okay, boss," Imkrag says, giving me a salute that's half respect, half nerves.
I nod, gesturing towards the studio. "Come on in. Time to meet the team."
As we walk in, I can feel Imkrag tensing up beside me. Poor guy looks like he's about to face a dragon, not a bunch of sleep-deprived film crew.
"Everyone," I call out, getting their attention. "This is Imkrag. He's our Gollum. Let's make him feel welcome, yeah?"
The crew nods, a mix of curious glances and polite smiles. I turn to our transformation team – makeup artists, dieticians, and our resident potion expert.
"I need you guys to help Imkrag get into character. I've drawn up a list of potions and a diet plan that should get him looking like the Gollum I've got in mind."
As I hand over the plans, I can see Imkrag's eyes widening. Guess he's realizing this role might be more intense than he thought.
"Don't worry," I say, patting him on the shoulder. "We're not going to turn you into a frog or anything. Though if we did, it might make those river scenes easier to film."
A few chuckles ripple through the crew, and I see Imkrag's shoulders relax a bit. Good. A little laughter goes a long way in breaking the ice.
With Imkrag sorted, I make my way to check on the art team. As I push open the door to their workspace, I'm hit by the smell of paint and glue. It's oddly comforting.
The room is a hive of activity, my artists hunched over intricate miniature models for "The Lord of the Rings". I can't help but feel a surge of pride. This concept is completely new to them, probably to the whole industry, but they're taking to it like ducks to water.
"You guys are making great progress," I say, making my presence known. A few heads snap up, startled. "Looks like creating this art department was worth every penny."
Roy, our wolf demon team leader, turns to me with a grin that shows off his impressive canines. "Glad you like our work, boss."
I give his shoulder a pat as I lean in to examine the nearly complete model of Isengard. The detail is breathtaking - each tiny stone, every miniature tower exactly as I'd imagined it.
"This is incredible, Roy," I say, gesturing to the model. "You've captured it perfectly."
Roy's chest puffs up with pride, but he's quick to deflect the praise. "If not for your drawings, boss, we'd be lost. They're our guiding light."
I can't help but smile. He's right, of course. A week ago, when the system unlocked the "skills shop" (thank you, "Demonfather" success), I immediately splurged on drawing skills. It was a necessity - how else could I convey these fictional locations to my team?
"Well, I'm glad they're helping," I say, running a finger along the tiny walls of Isengard. "But you're the ones bringing them to life. This is... it's like seeing my memories take physical form."
I catch myself, realizing how odd that must sound. But if the team thinks it's strange, they don't show it. They're too engrossed in their work, hands steady as they paint microscopic bricks and shape minuscule trees.
"How are we looking time-wise?" I ask, turning back to Roy. "Think we'll be ready for filming on schedule?"
Roy scratches his chin, leaving a smudge of paint in his fur. "It'll be tight, boss, but we'll make it. The team's really fired up about this project."
I nod, feeling a surge of excitement. "Good. Keep up the great work, everyone. You're making magic here."
As I turn to leave, I can't help but take one last look at the room. These miniatures, these tiny worlds taking shape under skilled hands - they're more than just models. They're the first step in bringing my vision to life.
Changing the topic, I've been racking my brains trying to solve our orc casting problem. We've managed to find a few Orc Demons here in the Morningstar Kingdom, but it's like looking for a needle in a haystack. We need an army, not a handful.
The real jackpot of Orc Demons is over in the Thorn Kingdom. It's a smaller demon realm across the sea, technically our neighbor but... well, it's complicated.
The Thorn Kingdom used to be part of our territory. But they broke away years ago, established their own government on that island. It's been a sore spot for the Morningstar royals ever since. Dad's always going on about "reunification" at the dinner table. Makes for some awkward family meals, let me tell you.
Politics aside, it's a headache for our production. The Orc Demons over there might not be too keen on playing extras in a Morningstar Kingdom film. There's a lot of bad blood, understandably.
I've been tossing around the idea of using primal orcs from our dangerous forests as an alternative. They're not quite as advanced as Orc Demons, but physically, there's not much difference. They're more tribal, no demon blood in the mix, but they could work in a pinch.
It's a tricky situation. On one hand, using Thorn Kingdom Orc Demons would be ideal for authenticity. On the other, it could open up a whole can of political worms. And let's face it, I've got enough on my plate without adding international incidents to the mix.
The primal orcs are a safer bet, politically speaking. But they're, well, primal. Training them for a film shoot could be... interesting, to say the least.
I shake my head, pushing thoughts of orc casting to the back of my mind. That's a problem for future Arthur. Right now, I've got bigger fish to fry - namely, our upcoming shoot in the Gloomstone Forest.
Twenty miles might not sound like much, but when you're hauling an entire film crew and their equipment, it might as well be on the moon. The logistics alone are enough to give me a migraine. But then again, when has anything about this project been easy?
Thankfully, I've got an ace up my sleeve - or rather, a stone in my pocket.
I finger the small, smooth rock I picked up from the system's "Magic Shop". To the untrained eye, it looks like any other pebble you'd find on the street. But this little beauty? It's a portal stone.
The plan is simple: set up a teleportation point here at the studio, then physically travel to Gloomstone Forest to establish another point there. After that? Instant travel between locations. No more day-long trips, no more caravans of equipment. Just step through and boom - you're there.
Portal travel used to be commonplace back in the ancient times, but now? It's rarer than a friendly dragon. Only the bigwigs in government and royalty have access to portal stones these days. For the average people, they're the stuff of legends.
Which is exactly why this needs to stay under wraps. The last thing I need is some nosy higher-up getting wind of this and deciding to "confiscate" our little shortcut in the name of national security or whatever.
I've already got a plan forming. Key crew members only. Hidden locations for the portal points. For the main shoot, most of the team can stay on location. Me and a select few can handle the back-and-forth, keeping everyone supplied without raising suspicion.
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