The Forsaken Hero
I closed my eyes and let out a shuddering breath. My fingers were numb and cold, my arm aching where the needle pierced the vein. Something clattered onto the pavement, and I looked down to see the needle. It had slipped out of my hand. Nothingness swirled around me, bringing the first sense of peace I'd felt in my short, miserable life. There was no one to miss me, and no one I would miss. There's always someone else to beat or rape. The regulars would move on quickly. I died. Only...wasn't death supposed to be dark? And since when did 'nothingness' have so many gods? Discord: https://discord.gg/PX3xqJdZMY
Words of a Child
The next few days flashed by, filled with new faces and experiences. After another talk with Helron, Bilev, the innkeeper, begrudgingly allowed me to remain in the room, albeit with the promise I would pay him back once I became an adventurer.
That was unfamiliar water for me, but I had no one to confide in. Money had never been a concern until now. Heroes received things as "gifts," and slaves were lucky to receive whatever scraps their masters remembered to give them. Trithe had once offered to take me shopping, claiming it was a delightful experience shared between women, but it had somehow never happened.