[LIT RPG] The Bayani - Isaiah

Chapter 1

Note: 'Italicized words inside apostrophes are thoughts made by the character/s.' Those that are not italicized are simply given 'emphasis'

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"You're finally awake."

Heavy rain poured around him making the bulky but rough cloth stick to his skin. Isaiah let his eyes set for a while before meeting a pair of tired fish-like eyes looking back at him. Its owner was in a rather poor state, he was bald save for an unkept, bushy stubble centered on his chin. Pale and feeble, his face matched the ragged clothes he was wearing.

"You were trying to cross the border, right? Walked right into that ambush, same as me, and those idiots over there."

'Border, what border?'

Isaiah wanted to ask but he was surprised at what had just happened. After all, the man in front of him had spoken in a tongue that didn't resemble any that he had heard of, yet curiously was something he could understand fluently. Almost as if it was his first language.

Was he dreaming? He had heard of how some dreams can become so real and his curiosity was roused at this rather 'realistic' dream he was experiencing. The first thing he noticed of the man speaking to him was the poor way he was dressed. From top to bottom, he wore a very degrading wear. He had the makings of a beggar, yet wore clothes that beggars could not afford. After all, it was easier to just wear the clothes people normally wear than go ahead and don a heavy fur coat no matter how old.

It reminded him of how 'medieval era' peasants would be depicted wearing in many movies.

However, that was not all, for he was sitting on one end of a wooden cart, a cart that seemed like it wasn't meant for passenger transport with the lack of a proper seat, the rough and jagged nature of its wood which was filled with mold patches carrying the smell of blood and nature. Its owner must've been extremely stingy.

As he moved his eyes, he noticed the other 'idiots' that the old man referred to. They were both asleep, their faces youthful but thin, and looked like they had just been beaten up with many bruises and cuts in the visible parts of their skin.

The carriage was moving in between a thick forest of tall brown trees. The carriage is pulled by a brown and black horse of medium size, driven by a man wearing a light fur coat. Behind them, walking not too far were two men of good physic, wearing a padded vest with chainmail armor for extra protection. Despite the rain, only one had a hoodie on while the blonde had his head out without a care for the rain.

Isaiah was at a loss for thought. He couldn't make one cent on what was happening to him or the sights he had just seen. Thus he turned back to the old man who seemed to be waiting for this moment,

"Ahh, sir-"

"SO WIPE THOSE STUPID TEARS OF YOUR FACE!" The man suddenly raised his voice to the top of his lungs, causing Isaiah to jump his seat which produced a sound similar to chains being moved up. Looking down, he saw, to his horror, a black chain with strange markings covering his entire hand. "Kids these days, doing stupid things, and when it goes all wrong for them, they bawl their eyes out... Learn to grow some balls kid."

Isaiah didn't know why he was subjected to such anger despite having done nothing, that said, he was more worried about the chains wrapped in his hands.

"Ah sir, why am I chained like this..."

But instead of the old man giving his reply, the blonde walking from behind clicked his tongue,

"Tsk, tsk, what do we have here?" He began picking on his nose, "Goods shouldn't talk to each other, you know."

"And you should drop dead like the worthless pig you are!" The old man rebutted, his voice filled with incredible malice.