"...and that is the whole of it, Milord." A voice said. It sounded familiar, but he couldn't be sure.

  "Damn Orcs trying to summon their demons again. Didn't they learn their lesson st time? Anyway, Captain, you did well to get him back here, but he will need more than I am capable of to restore him. Get a wagon ready for him. We will take him to town until we can arrange proper transport to the capital." Another voice said, this one deeper and sounded worried. Memories that he couldn't quite reach, memories that told him the voice belonged to someone he knew.

  "Yes, Milord. It will be done." The first voice replied.

  "Ugghh," Someone groaned. Maybe it was him...he wasn't sure, but it seemed possible.

  "Easy, Lad. You lost a lot of blood. Rest for now." The second voice said, now sounding kindly. Taking a nap sounded like a good idea. He took the voice's advice and drifted off to sleep.

  Nightmares invaded his dreams.

  Of a blighted ndscape, devoid of life. The remnants of trees littered the ndscape, the once mighty forest little more than an assortment of sticks in the ground. A few skeletons of both humanoids and beasts were sticking up out of the dirt, the bones themselves beginning to turn to dust.

  His view shifted.

  Now he stood before a mountain that had been split in two, looking as if it had offended some wrathful god, the split creating a narrow valley between the two halves. A gigantic archway y at the valley's centre, with hordes of beasts straight out of a nightmare standing before it as if waiting for something to happen.

  He shifted again

  A fiery demon with massive dragon-like wings was before him, its towering form leaning over an altar, working its dark magics on something he could not see. It paused what it was doing, as if sensing something amiss, and turned its head towards him. Its eyes appeared as if formed from molten steel, glowing with unrestrained power, foul magic shimmering off of them like steam.

  Eyes that were staring right at him.

  "What is this that has invaded my domain?" It said in a powerful voice that reverberated through his soul and shook him to his very core. "Ahh, a human who had a taste of the Fel. Surprising that you made it all the way to me with so little. Now come, and I will make use of you in the coming invasion of your world." It said, reaching towards him

  He shifted.

  He was standing before a massive pedestal near the edge of an icy cliff. Stairs led to the top of the pedestal where a giant mound of ice rested, encapsuting a huge armoured figure holding a rge greatsword. Dark energies seemed to flow from the armoured figure, seeping into the surrounding nds.

  Suddenly, the eye slit in the figure's helmet lit up, two cold blue eyes full of anger and malice staring right at him.

  Shift.

  John opened his eyes to yet another unfamil- wait, that was wrong. He did recognize this pce.

  He was lying in Sylvia's bed, wrapped up in yers of bnkets, his head propped up on a pillow. On his right side, near the wall, was an armour stand with his padin armour hanging on it, his rifle and the great hammer he had left behind was propped up on the wall beside it. To his left side was a table, with his leathers folded neatly on it. Beside them were the items he had tucked away inside his leather clothing: his belt buckle, the pelican and mansion miniatures, a container of Substance X balls, the fire orb, a spell scroll of spider climb, and the note from Xiaolin. (If I forgot something else he was carrying on his person, let me know below)

  He couldn’t see his sword, and his bow was missing as well. That should have been concerning, but he couldn't muster the energy to care. He was already starting to get sleepy again, so he closed his eyes and allowed himself to drift off.

  John continued to drift in and out of sleep. He had no idea how much time had passed; his few periods of lucidity would st only a few moments before he would drift off again. Thankfully, the nightmares didn't return, letting him rest in a peaceful, dreamless sleep. Sometimes when he woke up, he would catch a snippet of a conversation, but most of the time he was alone.

  "...No, Lord Uther, there is nothing more we can do for the prince. In Quel'Thas, they may have access to a relic capable of..." An unknown man.

  "...Oh, John, you poor man. Sleep as long as you need to, my prince. I'll take care of you as long as needed." A familiar woman's voice.

  "Is he still out, Midy? He has visitors coming from Kirin'Tor scheduled to arrive soon..." The voice of a companion he fought beside.

  "John! JOHN! Oh no... what happened to you? Wake up, please! I...need you, John, I lov-" A voice he didn't know but knew intimately at the same time.

  He continued to drift in and out of consciousness, unable to lift his head from the pillow again, no matter how hard he tried.

  The sound of a rooster crowing finally aroused John from his slumber. His head felt weird, and his throat was parched, but his mind was coming out of the fog it had been in. He blinked a few times, the dim light of predawn barely providing enough light to see by, then attempted to sit up. His body tried to resist the movement, his muscles and joints all creaking in protest, but he stubbornly kept at it until he was sitting upright in the bed.

  He was still in Sylvia's room, and his stuff seemed to be all accounted for now, his sword and bow over by his armour. He had vague recollections of them not being here in one of his lucid moments, but he couldn't be sure. Something different from his memories was a daybed near the window where the seating area used to be; the woman herself was sleeping on it, wrapped up in a bnket. There were dark bags under her eyes, looking like she hadn't been sleeping well for quite some time.

  Is she exhausted just because of me, or did something else happen? Actually, I wonder how long I was out for?

  John tossed the bnket off, discovering he was mostly naked, except for a rge bundle of cloth wrapped around his waist. He had a pretty good idea what those were for (Depends), and if Sylvia herself had been cleaning…that… up for him, he would have to make it up to her somehow.

  He shifted his body over to the edge of the bed, then got his feet underneath him. Holding onto the bedpost for bance, he gingerly increased the weight his legs were supporting until he was standing upright. Something seemed off to him, but he wasn't having vertigo from the movement, so he let go of the post and slowly shuffled over to the bathroom.

  After using the chamber pot and cleaning his lower body with cold water and the lye soap Sylvia had on hand, he picked up the hand mirror that was beside the wash basin. He nearly dropped it when he got a look at his face, rather what was left of his face.

  What in the hell happened?

  It almost looked as if a razor had shorn off the right side of his face, then wrapped the damaged areas in pale, discoloured skin. His right ear and most of the hair on that side of his head were cut clean off, leaving just a hairless opening where the ear used to be. The worst part... the worst part was that his right eye was missing.

  This is why things look weird!

  "Middle Heal!" He chanted, once, twice and even thrice. The only noticeable change was that his skin tone had almost returned to normal, and maybe some of the muscles along the side of his cheek filled out.

  "Well... shit." He said to himself while he inspected the damage once again. That was also when he noticed something else. His once steel-blue eye now had multiple bright green lines extending from his pupil to the edge of his iris. "What in the hell happened to me?"

  He could remember them assaulting the orc ritual grounds and the orc that became two... then one of them charged at the dwarves and him... then nothing. He recalled several nightmares that seemed real, then he awoke a few times to the sounds of people speaking... but he didn’t have any clue what happened between the charging orc and waking up here.

  He set the mirror down, then made his way back to the bedroom to get dressed. He wasn't quite ready to pull the plug on this world, he wanted to at least piece together what the hell had happened to him before making any decision. He felt strangely calm about this whole situation; maybe it really hadn't clicked in yet, and he was still in shock, but he didn't think that was it.

  Probably because when I leave, I will be back to normal again, this isn't necessarily a permanent disability. Not unless I choose to stay here anyway.

  He wasn't sure about what to do about his lost depth perception and field of view; shooting wouldn't be an issue, but he wasn't so sure about swordpy.

  *Gurgle*

  Right, I guess I should stop my pity party for now... at least I can still stand and move around without any issues, and I seem to be able to hear just fine out of that ear. It's better than being hunched over and barely able to move. I'm just going to need to find an eye patch... wait, am I going from post-apocalyptic raider to becoming a pirate? I just need a parrot and a ship...does my Pelican count for both?

  He chuckled quietly at that thought while he got dressed, not wanting to wake Sylvia up quite yet. He was still deciding whether to wake her up now or let her rest longer before letting her know he was awake.

  The choice was taken from him as he finished pocketing his items and had popped a Substance X ball into his mouth, when he heard her stirring behind him. He moved over to the side of the daybed and gave her shoulder a light shake. She groaned, then opened her eyes, which continued to widen as the sleepiness left her mind in a rush at the sight of him beside her.

  "John?...JOHN! You're awake!" She said, sounding surprised and relieved, her patient was not only awake, but up and dressed.

  "Good morning, Sylvia. I'm back." He said, then kissed the top of her head. "Thank you for looking after me."

  "That was no issue, I am just gd you woke up." She repied, reaching up and touching the injured side of his face, a small tear forming in her eye. "John," She started but was interrupted by his stomach.

  *GURGLE*

  "Heh, I hate to impose on you further, but mind if we find some food? As much as I want to know what happened and how I got here, I think I need something in my belly first. If I don’t, my stomach might find a way to eat my spine out of spite." He said with a chuckle, offering her a hand up.

  "John... of course. I'll send one of the servants to find Eh as well. He will be able to expin everything better." She replied, taking John's hand and giving him a peck on the lips. "I am happy you survived. Now, let's get you something to eat. I think we have some leftover ham and potato soup if that's okay?"

  He frowned for a moment, but shrugged it off. The thought of ham sent a slight shiver of disgust through him, but he had no idea why. He loved ham. "That sounds lovely, thank you." He replied, offering her his arm. She took it, and the pair of them moved down to the kitchen, smiling happily as they walked together.