The (mis)adventures of a little green hero: Part 2

When the first glimpse of morning reared, she found herself curled up in her woollen blanket, like a small child hiding from the horrors of the night. And just like a drunken orc, she couldn’t even remember going to bed in the first place.

Shaking off the previous day, she got up from the feathered mattress and headed towards the small crooked window. The little house she called home overlooked a vast meadow with wildflowers and trees as tall as giants; one of the benefits of bringing healing miracles in a bottle to secondal Keys. A fond grin tempted the corners of her mouth, I’ll get there again.

Slipping on a pair of black boots made from leather as wrinkled as her skin, she headed towards the rickety wooden door that creaks loud enough to wake a sleeping ogre every time it’s opened. “I must find a way of fixing you,” she said to the door as it groaned farewell, closing behind her.

Stepping out onto the cobbled street, a warm breeze ruffled through her robes. The bright rays of the summer sun kissed at her skin as she took in the freshness of the wild flowers, while bees and birds parted with their songs, without a care in the world. To be so free, she thought with a glint of awe in her pale yellow eyes.

The hustle and bustle of town life begin to rise as she made her way towards the main square. Despite the early hour, traders were setting up for the day and local town rats had started to make an appearance. Looking for loafs of bread to thief while the baker wasn’t looking, or somebody’s coin purse to empty while they traded banter with one another.

She couldn’t help but feel sympathy for them. It wasn’t so long ago she had no place to call home, either. But instead of relying on thieving from unsuspecting stall holders, she found mercy with her brother Knights. They’d taken her in when everyone else turned their backs on her. They fed her when everyone else turned their noses up at a dirty little goblin.

The shame washed over her, making her skin prickle. She wasn’t like the rest of them. She wasn’t even really a goblin anymore. Yet the thought still punched at her like a knife searing through her. The memories still hurt, no matter how much she didn’t even want to be a part of the tribe anyway.

A piercing scream brought her out of her thoughts. It came from the alley to her left. An alley infamous for trouble. She froze for a split second, the instincts of her goblin heritage yelling at her to run while the oaths she swore as a Knight of the Land yelled at her to go and help. Leaping into a purposeful sprint, she ran towards the scream, forming the words in her head that she may need to say to save somebody’s life. Even if it meant giving her own.

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