Post by Barlei on Sept 8, 2021 10:50:41 GMT -8
Oh MY STARS! | 1 Star Mission (2000 Words Requirement)- The chieftain of a village on the edge of the great desert has contacted you with a simple request. Go find and save his only child from the likes of one of the bands of desert bandits out in the great desert. He has their description, but can you pick out the Sheep from the Wolves? Rewards: 1 Bonus Treasure Roll.
Barlei stood, an impassive look on his face.
One hand held the tight cord to his small knapsack, slung over his shoulder. The other hand rested in the front pocket of his jeans. He was dressed terribly for the oppressive heat that resided in this place, but his bomber jacket was the coolest thing about him and he refused to part with it.
His goggles sat atop his thick, wild mass of hair, his bangs pulled back so as not to obscure his vision.
Before him, a small crowd of desert dwellers had gathered on the outskirts of their village—if the tiny collection of dilapidated huts could be called that. They were made of sandstone, wattle and daub, weathered and beaten by age and time. A single well resided in the center, far too small to accommodate this many people.
A pair of old goats were tied to it with a length of fraying rope. Frail-looking chickens clucked weakly, pecking fruitlessly at the scattering of pebbles along the dusty ground.
This place was the pits.
“Please, sir…”
The village elder, a hunched and trembling man, quivered beneath the burlap cloak he wore. He bowed his head, a few bare tufts of stringy hair visible at the crown of his aging, sun-spotted head.
“You must help us!”
His voice was barely a rasp. His exertion sent him into a brief coughing fit as several came forward to tend to him out of concern and pity. Every face in the crowd, young and old, turned to Barlei. They were weathered, beaten, and most of all, frightened.
Barlei frowned, rubbing the back of his neck. “...what the hell do you want me to do? I just wanted directions from you people.”
“Sir, please!” An older, brunette woman spoke out. A pair of toddlers clung to the hem of her dress, sobbing into it. “If you don’t help us, we are FINISHED!”
“The well! They cut off the water supply!”
“Stole some of our livestock! What are we supposed to do with two piddly goats?”
“Worst of all,” their chieftain rasped, “They took my son!”
More murmurs and cries of despair. Pietr, the chieftain’s son, was the heart and soul of the village. Strong, brave, and courageous, he single-handedly fought off many of the raiders that sought to ravage their building.
Barlei frowned. “Listen, I—”
“Please!” A young girl with dirty blonde hair clung to his pants leg. Her doe eyes brimmed with unshed tears. “You have to save Pietr! You have to save EVERYONE!”
More of the desert dwellers echoed their agreement. Something familiar seeped into the air—desperation. It stunk to high heaven.
Nothing slew a man faster than a desperate heart. An entire village would fall into utter disrepair. Could he bear that on his conscience?
“I’m not even... damn it,” Barlei muttered. “You people don’t even KNOW me. How do you know I’m not one of those guys who pillaged this place?”
The chieftain hobbled closer, leaning heavily upon his gnarled walking stick. He peered up at Barlei.
“Because, sir, you bear the constitution of a man whose heart is as heavy as ours. Perhaps if you could lift our burden, we could help you lift your own.”
“Shut up.”
Barlei’s growl startled the chieftain into stunned silence. Some of those closest to him took a wary step back. Barlei stared hard at the parched, desert ground. A sand lizard scampered over the toe of his heavy boot, ducking beneath a small stone for shade.
What the hell did these people know about it? How could they know the depths of the loss he had suffered? He shook his head, turning his back to them.
“Good luck with your bandit problem. I didn’t come here for that.”
“You would turn your back on people in need?”
Barlei scoffed. “This world don’t give a damn about people like me. So why should I care?”
He turned, drifting up into the air. Something snagged his boot. It was the little girl from before.
"Noooo! Please don't leave us! S-S-Save Pietr!"
Her wracking sobs settled over the haggard group like a lead blanket. It weighed on Barlei’s already heavy heart. Slowly he settled back onto the ground. The villagers flinched when he placed a hand atop the sobbing child’s head. But all he did was ruffle her hair a bit.
“You really care about that Pietr guy, huh?”
She nodded, sniffling. The rest of them stared in silence, the hope in their eyes piercing and evident. Barlei groaned, rubbing the back of his neck. He hated making promises. If there were anything he’d learned over the past 800 years, it was that none of them held the power to keep them.
But still… he couldn’t just leave them like this.
“Fine. Whatever. I’ll help. Afterwards, you can tell me how to reach Remorse’s Canyon.”
WC: 810 | 2,000