How many days in a row will I wake up and experience pain? The accident caused either broken ribs or a bruised sternum, a broken or sprained arm, and countless bruises and cuts. I then exasperated my injuries by stupidly attempting to catch a magical spiral horned rabbit.

I sit up and look around. I am thankfully no longer in the forest of magical destruction. The room is bare in design, stone walls, barred window, a metal reinforced door, a bucket, and a bed.

Attempting to sit up I am assaulted by some brand new pains on top of the old aches. Both my arms now protest, my neck strains to hold my weight, my back seems completely covered in wounds, and my right abdomen stretches against bindings.

After using the height advantage of the bed to get me upright I examine the pulling sensation on my stomach, there seems to be bandages across my body in various locations. Under the bandages oozes a yellow substance. I take my finger and swipe the gelatinous material and examine it closer, when I realize, it's Honey!

While I am thankfully appreciating the medical attention, I make my way to the door. Locked.

Oh that's ok it's just to keep medical patients from wandering off. I didn't do anything illegal, It's not like they worship that magical bunny as their god. And I am sure if I did anything wrong they will kill me and not imprison me. Right?

After an hour, my downward spiraling thoughts and what-if's is interrupted by the door opening. In walks a man that I can only describe as a noir detective; grizzled face, slicked back hair, sarcastic grin on his face, all he needs is to switch out his cloak and medieval weaponry for a duster and six-shooter and the look fits. That and remove the slightly iridescent purple thorny vine tattoos on both his cheeks.

He enters the room and a sharp noise is expelled from his mouth followed by a gesture to the bed. Oh no, have my worst fears been realized? More sharp noises shoot from his mouth, confirming the worst; I don't speak the language.

How can this happen? Isn't the language package standard in these situations? Did whatever god put me into this world pick the budget option? "Sure god you can have a charismatic hero and for a big spender like you we will include your choice of magical weapon, or special ability translation included of course. Oh too rich for your blood? Well here we have a hand me down, he won't be much good in a fight but he will get you where you're going.

While I sink further in my self loathing I play charades with my interesting captor. I interpret the point easily enough: it is a full handed gesture to an area. I also, by association, interpret the word he said while entering as sit. Going further was a lesson on patience for both him and me. At first he rattles off a long sentence with his sharp and measured words. "Huh?"

He looks me up and down, sighs and shouts something through the window. He then gestures at himself saying "Hazlee" and points to me. Easy enough he is asking for a name. I point at him "Hazlee" and then at myself "Asher". A man in robes enters the room and hands him a sharp looking white rock with fabric tied to the back as-well as a deep black tablet.

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I swear to the divines I always get stuck with the worst jobs. If it's not babysitting the kid it's moving a obese man a mile and a half back to civilization. I stare at the man, he is no warrior, his stance is full of openings, his hands lacking even the calluses from working; in fact he looks no older than his twenty third. His words seem to droll on for a long time, not the empire's tongue or from the islands; most likely not the desert people as his complexion doesn't match.

I take my slate and draw the latest confirmed map and ask "Where?" as my hand circles the drawing of the area. He stares at it for a long while and shakes his head, judging from his lack of reaction I can assume that is a no. "Ok not from the mainland how about" I erase the slate and draw a series of connected islands; and nothing. The rural villages of Mt Ramaru, the Clorophose caves. No matter what I put down from the settled world nothing, it's like his first day here was in that forest in the middle of the Krinsbury kingdom. A man this large would have been known or seen, but no reports have come in.

Stolen novel; please report.

The man attempts to say something in his babbling language, it's annoying like a baby's attempt at their first words. "Oh! You poor soul." I say as the puzzle pieces come together. This all makes sense with the inconsistency of this man's manors and location. This man is lame of mind! His language isn't a language at all but a crude attempt at mimicking. All he knows is his name. His soft hands and round body show a stationary lifestyle. Some hunter provided for his lame son as best as he could, even attempting to train him; hiding him away from the world. When the winter extended this last year he must've known that he could no longer provide for young Asher.

Still I need answers, anybody can pretend to be lame and he just as well could be a spy. I start casting my held magic, I visualize the liar's rose sprouting from my mouth as I ask my questions. It binds to Asher's head reaching into the throat and ears so that no lie might be said and only the truth may be interpreted. I pause my questioning half-way through as Asher thrashes about, I have seen this reaction once before; animals seem to sense subtle magics at work, does Asher being slow of mind bring him closer to an animal in instincts? Well no matter what, I will continue until I am sure that my city and Baroness is safe.

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What was that! One second I thought I was getting through to Mr.Hazlee as he seemed to be reacting to my life story. Then suddenly his purple tattoo's start to glow and a mass of thorny vines erupt from his mouth. It was like those videos of plants growing in fast forwards, the leaves and direction twitching back and forth in the way only something without a nervous system can move. My fascination and horror froze me in place, and then those vines started to grow IN me. Not only through my mouth and nostrils but also through my ears. I attempt to roll on the bed and pull out the thorns.

I Cry.

I Beg.

I Curse the cruel man and his mother.

All useless to the intangible thorns, and the implacable man but then I realize... there's no pain? I can move my mouth and hear fine.

Then Hazlee finishes speaking and the same purple light runs its way down the vines impacting my body with a flash. I am compelled to give my name, and so I do with no conscious control. I am compelled to say many things, my city's name, my parents name. I am also compelled to answer some other things that I am sure he cannot interpret such as, "I am not a spy", "I did not commit a crime", and most worryingly "I have not come across the peeling plague". Do I want to know what the Peeling plague is? It seems to be self explanatory. My replies do send a slight feedback back to Hazlee's tattoos and he nods like he understands.

After a few more nonsense answers Hazlee bites down and the vines wither away, I shutter as he suddenly stands. What does he want? Is he going to recreate his cruel illusion with real actions? Will he just kill me? Oh, he just left?

I process all that happened in the past hour, working through the trauma. I can see that those vines are a type of interrogation tool, and trust me I will never even think about committing a crime ever again if I have to experience that in the future. I think that was magic as well, his tattoo's are reminiscent of the rabbits colors, it even had the same color movement when he casts.

Is that how you get magic in this world? You tattoo the magic into your body? You vomit tentacles to violate prisoners? Also I feel like magical compellment is a violation of my rights. I would always annoy my GM about how the Enchantment school of magic is inherently evil, weareas Necromancy is gross but ultimately harmless. Sure you can puppet my dead body it's not like I am using it; but changing what makes me; me is a perversion of the highest order.

My pity party is interrupted by Hazlee coming back into my cell carrying a burlap sack. He reaches in and pulls out two items and holds them towards me. In one of his hands is a bunch of coins of different types. In his other hand is the mangle body of my arch nemesis..... A tiny bunny. It's in bad shape. It seems when I hit it I knocked off one of its two horns. He then pushes the coins to me while pulling the rabbit to himself. Ah he wants to give me the value of the rabbit. I guess he is kind afterall, I am sure a mere herbivore wouldn't cost this much, so he is most likely making up for my oral and cochlear violation. I smile and grab the money

When I do so everything else happens in fast forward. As he leaves a bunch of young women rush out and quickly shoo me away to a door, I am pushed out and the door and it slams shut behind me.

In front of me however, is a vast sprawling city. The roads are paved with cobble and sconces line the walls, all around me are three to five story buildings with archways and pathways zig-zagged across. A talented man could probably walk from one side of the city to another without needing to touch the ground.

I eye the coins in my hand, with no sense of value and no lodging I am left with one question "Now what?"