A rumble somewhere in the distance, perhaps wheels protruding through the night.

The vibration of the ground and the gravel hopping like cold water on a hot pan shook me somewhat more alert.

My eyes felt rusted together, with blue and red spots floating like motes inside the darkness. I pushed my hand forward to see if I was somewhere familiar like the floor of my room but there was only something hard and slippery wet like cobblestone.

The pain struck me again, I grasped my head in anguish, asking myself where I was and how I got there.

I remembered going with Roy to our after work lunch, I remember a blurry figure, losing balance and trying to hold on to a door knob feebly as the room spun as if in some fever dream, then utter darkness, the only thought that pierced the void was "am I dead now" and there it echoed for how many days or even years I could not remember. Feeling the cold ground brought with it something I knew.

I heard someone walk by me and stop, "Have some of this you poor soul" a soothing female voice spoke. She put a glass bottle to my lips,  that had a tang of cranberry but a smell like nothing I had smelled before. I took a sip and as I drank somewhere deep within me "HP Restored" echoed.

A dream, maybe i'm passed out at our after work bar German Juice I thought. The police savagely kicking me utterly bewildered by my lack of movement. Roy laughs eyes devoid of though shouting what a gift less soup of a man I am.

After giving me the drink and saying the usual "easy now child, slowly" the woman place her soft hand on my head and uttered "May Felom our god forgive your trespass on our land" 

I muttered in a still sleepy voice "What trespass, where am I"

"You will know soon enough" I could here her shoes echo farther and farther away.

I shook my head and ascertained that the pain miraculously dissipated. So I opened my eyes and in front of me was a wall made of mud bricks with a thatched roof above it, there was an open window where laughter and clamoring of drunks that cheered mugs and sang streamed out. The sign on my right said Joe's Fiery Clam, a mechanical clam that opened its jaws but no fire burst out, this was for some reason disappointing. I rubbed my temples and lay my back to the side of the steps under the sign.

There in front of me was a man slurping water out of a barrel in the most comfortable position a man was able to with his face in a stuck in a barel. It gave a religious fervor as his head kept bobbing in and out. Peculiar I thought.

I looked down searching for my packet of cigarettes and noticed that I had on a padded tunic and on my right in a sheath a short sword. It should have struck me as odd but somehow it made sense. My hand by it's own volition grabbed the sword and I felt a tingle of power in it. Almost as if in a vision a blue computer like screen appeared and it read (Useless Short Sword 2+2 attributes) It seemed to be for strength and agility as those were the stats that appeared to have raised from 10-12. Others included Charisma, Intelligence and Luck. I should have been more perplexed but it felt as if it was second nature and the feeling scared me.

I stood up with the screen terribly blocking my vision, I tried to swipe it away, close my eyes and re-open them, tried to click in the air, pointing my finger at passerby's, and finally I shouted

"Just fucking Exit"

"Exiting" the voice echoed.

My eyes animalistic at that point and my body heaving a bit out of breath looked towards the barrel direction insidiously and there the drinker had his eyes fastened towards me. He had a dagger like beard, Jesus long flocks and a ripped checkered jacket. He pointed a surprisingly dirty finger at me and began to slowly wave it in a circular motion while small beads of sweat were visibly forming on his forehead.

Then he roared "You're crazy man" there was fear in the voice as it came out in a high tenor. The hobo took off running, or attempted as he was struck by a enormous stallion, the hobo flew like a rag doll and as faith had it landed next to his barrel, but first he hit the mud wall head first. He now had as much life as the barrel had, simply said he was dead.

Not even slightly bewildered the man with enormously large shoulders and a symbol of a dragon; acid etched on his silver armor, slowly trotted back. He put his foot on the stirrup and dismounted with ease considering the weight of his armor. Wiped the blood of the horse and took a tooth from its side, the horse was silent. The man raised his visor, his cheeks were a bit red, a scar rested on the right side below his eye that had also left his lip mangled not the most pleasant face. My hand slowly moved towards the sword, it felt like my body had a habit of keeping watch for me.

The man smiled and his blue eyes pierced me and stopped my movement instantaneously

" No need for that now is there" he threw a bag of coins at me which I caught, he then walked towards the hobo and threw a single coin at him. "He'll get up you know, he's cursed you've seen him drinking water like that, let's say he had a thirst of a different kind for a demon a while back and you know how those things go" He slapped his leg and laughed " I think that's the third time I've killed the poor sod, I think he might be doing it on purpose, there was that time when i chopped him in half with my mates but we don't have to talk about that" Then his brows knitted and he gazed at me " now you keep that money, and tell nobody, the main guard of the palace shouldn't go around killing an old hero, so keep your trap shut".

So that was it, the man wanted my silence for coin, in this world I've somehow created with my bout with schizophrenia. The man wasn't dead and to be honest even if he was I probably wouldn't have cared.

I smiled back and chuckled and did a zipping motion over my lips and threw away the key.

"No worries here sir"

He was a bit taken aback by my candid lack of care for life but quickly resumed his posture and said

"Good you understand, if you want to work go by the palace , you look like you know a thing or two with the sword, however don't go to the fighters guild it's not a place for people like me and you" His grin was sinister and he leaped back on his horse and took his leave down the alley. Here a bell struck twice.

2am if time works here the same way I thought. I finally checked through my pockets and found my pack of smokes and a note that said in bold letters you have been reborn.

Not conspicuous at all. I took a smoke out of my pocket fingers having that nicotine shake and sat on the stairs and asked a hooded figure for a light, he snapped his fingers an there hovering above was a flame, I lit my cigarette and lay back in disbelief but what really was a kick in the gut, there by a pole, next to a street light hung a half weasel half man, it's tongue sticking out and his head lolling back and forth on his very human like but dead body. Below the hung weasel was a drunk orc swinging the sword at him slurring his words.

"Me and you against the world Weasel, that's what you promised but you weaseled out"

The orcs sword swing missed the body completely but the orcs side hit and it swung up and the legs landed hard on the orcs nose as the dead weasel came down. The orc was dazed for a moment but regained his posture just to fall on his knees and started to cry.

"Thats...what..I..M..m..iss" he hardly could get the words out between his weeping episodes.

So I lay down and looked upon the moons... the moons I thought there were two but i cared less now . I was probably insane so I sat there cigarette in mouth hunched over and laughed a raspy laugh.