Sweat streaking down his forehead, Grant woke with a start. He was in bed with clean clothes, and for a second, he thought it had all been a dream, that he was at the hospital, that soon his parents would be coming over to check in on him. But no, he was inside what looked to be a cluttered old basement, lit by the warm orange glow of an oil lamp.

He sat up, feeling lingering aches in his back - that was right, the town archers had nearly turned him into a pincushion. The shock of it all had made him faint, but he remembered in the last seconds before he did, that female guard had scooped him up and was helping him towards the gate. Grant slipped his hands under the clean fabric of the oversized new tunic he had on, feeling papery bandages wrapped around his wounds.

Putting it together quickly, he figured that he must've been inside the village, that this must've been the girl's basement, and that she must've changed his clothes and patched him up too.

He got up from the bed, finding that he didn't have any pants on - only the tight undershorts Gigi had poofed onto him. Footsteps came from above.

"Oh, no..."

Grant cursed under his breath as the footsteps kept descending. He jumped back in bed and threw the blankets over his bare legs just as someone turned into the room. However, instead of the tall blonde he was expecting, it was the short, angry, red-bearded dwarf.

"Eat." he demanded. There was a plate of food in his hands, which he shoved towards Grant. The plate had weird folded up sandwiches on them, along with sliced fruit. Staring the man in the eye suspiciously, he grabbed one of the foldy sandwiches, but didn't take a bite.

"I'm General Grogmerry." the dwarf crossed his arms. "I lead the guard here in Bilenda."

"My name's Grant-"

"I never asked you your name!" Grogmerry screamed at the top of his lungs, cutting Grant off. The dwarf's face had gone as red as his beard, and Grant was taken aback by the sudden outburst. 

"I'm sorry." said Grant, trying his best to keep his temper down. "What, exactly, is going on here?"

"One of my guards dragged you in." he said. "She patched you up down here in the barracks with nobody knowing. When I found you, I pulled a dagger against your throat... but Li convinced me to let you live." 

Okay, so she was the one to take off his clothes, thank Christ. For a second, he was beginning to think Grogmerry did it.

"Now, listen up." the dwarf stomped over and jabbed a finger right in his face, having to stand on his tippy toes to do it. "Personally, I would've left you to bleed out like a stuck pig and let the zombies tear you to pieces. And if you try anything funny - anything at all - I will see you publically executed and fed to the beasts! For now, we're gonna let you stay... but you're out on the next trader caravan, you got that?"

"Understood." he said, forcing back an eyeroll. Grogmerry still seemed angry, but appeared to be satisfied with the response. He set the tray of food down on the bedside table, then stomped to the staircase. Before he could head back upstairs, Grant called out to him. "Wait!"

The dwarf turned around, his burning orange eyes boring a hole through Grant's head.

"Uhm... is there anywhere I could get some pants?"

Later that day, Grant was released by the town guards at the barracks. They had provided him with new pants, socks, and boots, and one had promised to return his original clothes after they had been washed - he said they could just keep them. The pants he recieved were a little long, same as the tunic, so he had to tuck them into his boots.

While Grogmerry definitely seemed to hate his guts, the others in the guard had treated him a bit more nicely. Grant didn't know if it was out of fear of his hero status or respect for fighting alongside them. As he was being lead from their headquarters, he looked around for any sign of the woman who had rescued him, but there was none to be found. He hoped she hadn't been fired.

"Come back here tonight to sleep." one guard said. "You need to be at the gates in the morning, we've found a caravan willing to take you."

"Thanks." Grant said curtly.

With nothing better to do at the moment, he began to wander around Bilenda. The young man hadn't realized how long he'd been out until he saw that night had turned to day, the sun high in the cloudless sky. The high walls were never out of sight in this town, and the dirt and stone path roads were filled with activity. He found himself walking through a market alley with ramshackle stalls that offered many different things, from jewelry to weapons to live chickens and turkeys.

People avoided Grant as he passed by, stepping away with frightened looks... he wondered if they'd been warned about him. It made enough sense. He was dangerous, he supposed, although that was a strange thought. Back home he was kind of a loser.

...

No, he was definitely a loser. The guy wrote crappy webnovels, for Christ's sake!