5 Chapter 5 - Awakening (1/2)
Kenji awoke feeling like utter shit.
Grumbling, he creaked his aching head upward, his spine screaming resentment, his limbs feeble as leaves. Damn, perhaps he really was a goblin-slave-runt after all.
”Damn you weird god, lady!” Kenji said, shaking a clothen fist at a dusty wooden ceiling.
Staring at that fist it seemed a bit odd, on account of the chains wrapping it and snaking up his arm. Patting his body down he found his aches and pains were well hidden beneath a dark tattered robe, numerous chains, locks and bandages also obscuring his form beneath.
”Well, maybe not a goblin then,” Kenji decided
Peering around, Kenji found himself in a storehouse- oh no.
The fear was rushing back as the soothing release of being dead faded. Kenji's hands began to twitch, his layers slick with sweat, his breathing too loud in his ears - screaming he charged the door and threw it open. Immediately he was blinded by the dazzling light of day.
Disorientated, Kenji charged, wide-eyed and babbling. He bounced around blurry figures, mud slicking his feet, a great bustling noise rattling his ears.
”Watch out!” Someone shouted. A horse whinnied, and Kenji was thrown back several paces to roll through the mud. Eyes finally adjusting, Kenji found himself in the middle of a street. Peering up he found a red-robed knight wearing shining steel and black leather, standing imperiously over him.
”Oh hello, sorry about that, got a bit lost,” Kenji smiled sheepishly, the knight helped him up then pulled back his faceplate to reveal sparkling golden eyes and flame-red hair. The Knight also looked quite boyish, and as twin guards appeared to tower over them both, Kenji realised the Knight was a youth. And that Kenji was very, very short.
”Get away from Sir Arthur, miscreant!” Bleated a guard with a few missing teeth, pulling Kenji by a dark beard he didn't know he had.
”Wait, Donald, wait! Can't you see he might be hurt?” The boy said, golden eyes welling with concern. He didn't seem to mind the mud caking boots, nor the strange looks from the crowd. Kenji estimated that he was a [G] at least. Wait, thought Kenji, a [G] what?
”We should take him to the keep, see that his wounds are tended too.”
Raising an arm, Kenji realised his bandages made it look like he was covered in wounds.
”Sir Arthur, please, no more. We bring in beggars all the time,” the guard spoke in a pleading tone, hands pressed together after sending Kenji tumbling along into an alleyway and down several steps. Just like with the horse and cart, Kenji arose completely unharmed from the filthy street below, if with much stumbling. A hump along the back out his shoulders made him too top-heavy, he'd need a cane to get anything done with speed.
More importantly, taking in beggars sounded like the work of a good person, a real [G] worthy type. Could this rich boy be Kenji's ticket to his first scouted hero? And perhaps this rating appearing in his head was how heroic a hero he was?