Koby woke up to see a thatched roof. He was in a wooden bed. The smell of old timber and earth filling his nose. He raised his arms to see them wrapped with pieces of clothes and then he sighed.
Frustrated. He hadn't thought they would survive.
The event that had caused his arm to be this way, replaying in his head. They didn't seem as busted as he had thought they were, perhaps Raya healed him. Meaning they escaped, that's why he would be under a roof right now. He tried to move up but intense pain shot up all over his body especially his shoulders where he had been bitten.
Groaning he clutched his shoulders and forced himself up, taking in his surrounding.
The room was cramped and sunbaked, built from sun-bleached timber and patched stone, its corners cluttered with cobwebs and the scent of old sweat and earth. The ceiling, low and made of wooden beams, creaked with every gust of warm wind that slipped through the thatched roof. A few small holes let spears of sunlight pierce the gloom, revealing swirls of dust in the still air.
A rough straw mattress lay in the corner, no sheets—just a woven cloth draped loosely over it, too thin to offer comfort, too coarse to be clean. The pillow was little more than a sack stuffed with dried grass. Near it, a bucket half-filled with stale water sat for washing, next to a cracked basin with a single shard of polished metal used as a mirror.
There was no shelves—just a rickety stool beside a brick-like loaf of bread and a clay jug of lukewarm water. An old cloak, sun-faded and moth-bitten, hung from a rusty nail, swaying gently with the breeze. In the far corner, under a bundle of hay, glinted a sword that was sheathed in it's scabbard—perhaps the only possessions of sentimental value.
The room was austere, practical and quiet— it's comfort rooted more in function than luxury.
Slowly he stood up from his bed, and headed outside the room limping slightly, stepping out of the creaking wooden door, a wave of summer heat swept over him, dry and heavy, curling the edges of brittle grass. The old cabin stood alone on a gentle rise of land, worn by years of weather and silence. Around it, the landscape stretched wide and empty—fields of dry brush and tall, swaying weeds basking under a pale, cloudless sky.
The ground was hard and cracked, dust rising with each step like whispers of the earth. A narrow dirt path wound lazily down the slope, barely visible, as if rarely used. No other homes dotted the horizon—only open land, distant hills, and the faint shimmer of heat rising off distant rocks.
A few gnarled trees stood near the house, their branches thin, leaves sparse, offering only the illusion of shade. The wind stirred them lazily, making them groan like old men. Beside the house, an old wooden bench sagged under the weight of one of the two residents— an older looking man, with black spiky shoulder length hair and an undisturbed countenance.
The only signs of activity were Koby's comrades a short distance off—resting beneath a canvas stretched between two spears, their silhouettes hunched in conversation or quiet preparation. Weapons leaned against stones, packs lay open, and a small cooking fire smoldered in a shallow pit, sending thin trails of smoke into the sky like a signal from another world.
Silence hung in the air, broken only by the chirp of unseen insects and the low rustle of dry wind across the grass. It was the kind of quiet that made the world feel paused—forgotten—save for those few who had reason to remain.
The second resident— a young teenage boy stood with a mischievous glint in his eyes, his black hair tousled and wild, save for a thin streak of yellow that ran through his fringe like a brush of rebellion. His smile came easily—crooked, confident, and just a little cocky—the kind that made it hard to tell if he was about to crack a joke or cause trouble. There was a lightness in his step, an energy that danced just beneath the surface, playful yet unpredictable. He had noticed Koby at the door first.
"Oh. You're up." He said causing James, Raya and Kai to turn.
Raya ran over to help Koby stand upright as he was struggling while asking him how he was feeling. He raised a hand to signify that he was okay but that didn't stop her from helping him.
"What happened?" Koby asked.
"He saved us." James said pointing to the man.
"Thank you very much, sir." Koby showed his appreciation bowing his head slightly.
"It would've been better for you to all have died." The Man said with a straight face as he whipped his hair that hung loosely over his face, backwards.
"That's the stupid phrase you keep making. Then why help us in the first place?" Kai quipped, a hint of anger showing slightly in his eyes.
"Kai!" Koby and James shouted at Kai's disrespect.
"What?" Kai asked, seeing nothing wrong with what he said.
"Pardon his attitude. He's on edge. What do you mean by what you said?" James asked.
"By my guess, you all must be the 22nd breed of players." the man replied.
"And the riddles keep on popping? What's the 22nd breed?" Kai asked hands akimbo.
"Somehow you found a hidden scenario which explains how you ended up with a Hydra. You all should've spawned at a starting town." the man ignored Kai while explaining the situation to the rest.
"You lost me there." James said.
"I guess I could explain a little better on the bitterness of your situation."— the man said as he dropped the stick he had been holding and dragged over a stool and handed it to Kai—" You might wanna sit down for this."
"What's this for?" Kai asked.
"Your friend is gonna need support while seating, so you'll be sitting single." the man quipped, a hint of smile arcing at the corner of his face.
"Thank you, uh..." Koby tried to get his name.
"Rowan Dareth and this here— he said pointing at the boy with him— is Axle Thorne."
"I'm Koby Ellis." Koby said and looked to the others.
"Raynell Lockwood."
"James Alderidge."
"Kai Morgan." Kai ended the introductions as they waited in anticipation of the briefing
that Rowan would give them.