Sure thing, below is a quick sketch of what I imagine the beginning being like. Let me know if this could be useful or any other story bits and pieces you might need. I enjoy a good challenge
My eye lids felt heavy, as if I had never used them before. With enough concentration and determination, I opened them only to see a grey drab ceiling above me. I lifted my neck and then shifted my pathetic body into a sitting pose, resting my back against the worn head rest of the wooden bed I inhabited.
I took a moment to assess my surroundings. It was bare and empty but for a couple beds and some short metal cabinets. The windows were flapping pieces of carpet and old linen shirts.
The faint sound of metal upon metal ushered into the building as if someone beating an anvil. Men's voices seemed to accommodate the metal with every clang came shouts and orders, as if they were training.
I pulled the weathered blanket of me and dangled my feet over the edge. Slowly lifting my weight upon my two scrawny legs, I could feel the muscles struggle as they supported my body. The first few steps were easy, I thought, until I lost control of my left leg as it locked up in its current position, agony stemmed from foot to thigh. The burning feeling subsided to a bearable level as I leaned on the windows cracked frame and relieved some pressure from my lower half.
The window looked old and rotten yet the paint work on the outside was new. I pulled the curtain away and tucked it behind my head so I could get a better view.
Not an ounce of greenery anywhere in view to brighten the even duller exterior. Sand covered everything, giving a golden look to the small villages surroundings.
“Ah, so you're awake?” a voice from behind me commented.
I jumped out of my skin, tearing the curtain down by mistake in my surprise.
After I had pulled my head out from beneath the wrenching stench of mould and fungi I glanced over to the man, now sitting in a small chair that I must have missed earlier.
His silly grin infuriated me. “Who are you?” I croaked, the words were painful to speak as if I had never used my vocal cords before.
“Ah, so many questions and all the time in the world to answer them.”
“What do you mean? The world I knew was not like this. Are we in Iran or Egypt?”
He smiled again as my confusion seemed to delight him in ways I couldn't imagine.
The old man got up from his chair and leaned against the other side of the window I now rested my back against.
“Dear boy. Your are exactly where you've always been. Don't you recognise that symbol up there?” He pointed towards something in the distance. A torn flag thriving in the strong wind, it consisted of two red crosses and a blue and white background.
“But, that means,” I stumbled backwards until my legs bumped into my bed frame. I collapsed my cheeks on the bumpy mattress, no words could describe my train of thought at that moment as I tried to recall everything that happened before I woke up here.
“It's okay, lad. You won't remember much from before.”
My eyes focused on him, waiting for some explanation as to where my life had been spent all these years.
“You've been in a comer for fifteen years. I promised your father I would keep you feed and watered, even if others suffered without.
His light mood from earlier seemed to have vanished and was replaced with guilt and anguish.
“Here,” he passed me a rucksack from behind one of his cabinets with two medical kits in and an old rusty blade of some kind.
“Keep the blade safe, you'll need it out there in the wild.”
Even in its diminished state it had an impressive aura about it.
“Boy, we have returned to the way of honour. Now prove yourself worthy of being, Kenshi.”
) of bandits.
