Private - This Little Piggy [Seasonal Help: Summer]

"You there!"

Lucian came to an abrupt halt, startled by the sudden shout. He turned to look over his shoulder, trying to figure out who it was being summoned. Then, as realization dawned on him, the boy's lips parted in unspoken confusion. One hand rose, one finger pointing to his chest.

"Yes, you! Are you mute boy?"

There was some irony in the fact that the blonde could not find the words to assure the voice that, no, he was not mute. Instead, he shook his head, gaze finally coming to rest on the farmer who called to him. In his overalls, boots, and floppy hat, his profession was unmistakable. That, and he was flushed, and covered in a layer of sweat and dirt.

"Well," the man continued, "I guess it don't matter if you're mute or not. I need your help. Do you have a weapon?"

"Uh, yes." It was timid, and barely rose above the whisper of the leaves on the breeze, but at least he had found his voice. "A dagger."

"A dagger?" Now the farmer shook his head. "That won't do much, and I suppose I can't ask ya to shout at it." He huffed a grunt, and added, "There's a boar tearing up my field, just over there." With a calloused, grimy hand, he motioned behind him. "Could use some help taking care of it." He stopped suddenly, his eyes lifting to look past Lucian. "What in damnation?"

 

“AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” the wordless battle cry rang out bearing with it a metallic echoing quality. The defiant shout carried over top the rhythmic beat of feet heavily thudding against the ground in quick succession. Each weighty footfall was accompanied by a cacophony of metallic clanking and jangling as heavy and elaborate armor was being moved by its occupant at a pace it was never meant to move at. One could almost describe the speed of movement as a run, clearly the armored occupant intended it to be as such, but in truth its pace was likely more of a brisk jog. Still in the eyes of the charging would-be hero this slight decrease in pace made their actions no less valiant.

Granted to an observer the only valiance to be found in this action was likely in the attempt rather than what actually transpired. After all someone shouting while jogging briskly in what most would consider an embarrassing excess of armor while holding a shield before themselves was hardly the most noble thing on its own. Let alone when it is a scene removed from a battlefield and instead taking place in a ruined cabbage patch. Further still, detracting from this scene that aspired for grandeur was the fact that the charging individual in question was hardly taller than the boar itself.

None of this mattered to Alex. Before them was an enemy to the lives and peace of these quaint villagers and that enemy needed to be warded away! Hauling themselves and their armor as fast as their short legs could carry them, the fully ensconced Faerin barreled at the boar that had at first seemed indifferent to the noise and at nearly the last moment, curious.

The snout of the boar looked up and turned towards the trundling lump of clattering metal in time for its vision to be filled by nothing but the sight of the face of the advancing tower shield. The hard wall of the shield smashed into the boar's vulnerable snout with all the force of the Faerin's inertia and sent it tumbling backwards.

With the resistance of the boar bashed aside, armored Faerin herself fell inelegantly forward landing belly first on the back of her shield which was now face down in the dirt of the ruined field. Pain racked her chest as the force of the fall knocked the air from her lungs and within their armor they made a rattling wheezing sound as they desperately tried to suck in air and refill their shocked lungs.

The boar, more from surprise than fear scrambled to its feet and to the warrior's credit barreled out of the farmer's field for the time being. Squealing as it ran in an animistic display of upset and dismay.

The warrior lay on their shield almost motionless for a long moment before, without rising, both their arms raised as best they could and an enfeebled, metallic, voice rang out from the helmet to gasp an additional cry. “Huzzah!”

Alex let her gauntleted and plated arms fall down and decided this particular patch of dirt was as noble a place to rest a moment as any. Moving was unnecessary after such a rousing display of heroism that she was sure the rescued townsfolk would warmly understand.

 

"Good lord."

They were the only words shared between the faerin and the farmer for some time. Even after the heavily-armored figure came to rest, the pair stared, wordlessly, at the spot where it lay. Finally, the NPC reached up to push at his hat, shoving it further down on his balding head. "Good lord," he stated again. His eyes, the same shade of green as the crops he so dearly loved, were wide in shock and confusion. As Lucian watched, they slowly narrowed in suspicion. "What is that thing?"

The short faerin shook his head to express his own bewilderment. It was only after he realized that the farmer missed the gesture, his gaze still securely on the prone form, that Lucian spoke. "I don't know."

"'Course you don't." Lucian suspected it was meant to be an insult, but he did nothing in retaliation. Instead, he merely shoved his hands in the pockets of his trash-tier pants. "Well," he continued, "I guess whatever it is did the job. That's what's important." His pause was long and heavy, as if he were considering something. It came as no surprise when he spoke again, but the words themselves startled Lucian. "Go see what it is." The faerin shifted uncomfortably, his weight moving from one foot to the other, as he considered his response. To buy time, he meant to play dumb. The farmer expected it. "Yes, you," he stated, as if reading Lucian's mind. "I want to know what that is, and if I should be worried."

"What would you have me do?" the boy asked, frowning toward the unmoving figure.

"I don't know," came the man's reply, huffy with both exasperation and anticipation. "See if it is still alive."

That was a terribly vague answer to follow up a terribly unusual request. Lucian grimaced, but took a few hesitant steps forward. Stooping, he plucked a long stick from where it lay tucked in the grass. Then, leaning forward and willing his body to stretch just a bit more, he delicately poked at the armored blob. If he had to guess, it looked like a very small person inside a very large suit of metal. Another faerin perhaps? He had never seen anyone outfitted quite like this, but then again, this was his first day in the game.

 

The faint tapping against her helmet informed Alex that the villagers she had saved were trying to get her attention, and perhaps it would behoove her to rise and set an example. Alex turned her head away from the ground and towards the direction the slightly more confident prodding of the stick was coming from.

The hesitant and nervous expression was clear on the fellow faerin's face. Alex coughed once, trying to find her breath which had been gradually coming back to her. Then she found she was able to speak again. “Greetings!” her voice still sounded a little hoarse and Alex decided that laying on the ground was no way to introduce herself. She began attempting to push herself back to her feet but this proved to be a far more difficult task than she had anticipated. The plates of her armor and chains in her mail rattled more noisily than when she had been running, as she rolled off her shield and onto the ground. The clattering continued as Alex then grabbed hold of the shield and used it to leverage herself against the ground and eventually was able to find her feet. A few more noisy blows of metal on metal occurred as she tried to beat the dust off of her metal hide. Finally Alex stood as straight as she could and gave a rigid wave to the nearby faerin and the farmer further off.

“Have no fear, villagers!” her voice rang out in its genderless metallic fashion. “I have driven the beast away from your lands and you are once again safe to work the fields!” Alex waited for applause that would likely never come, mostly because just over her shoulder the farmer in the next field over could be seen chasing yet another boar off his lands as well.

“You ain't chased it off fer good, ya dern fool!” the irate and vocal farmer of the field Alex stood in protested. “It'll come back any time now. Just cause I aint plum crazy enough to go bashin' 'em in the snoot don't mean I don't know how they'll react. You aren't getting no coin from me till you solve the problem. Both of ya!” the farmer stamped his foot in annoyance and waved an arm towards the two faerin as if dismissing them as useless and headed for a shed, likely to fetch tools to begin vain attempts at repairing his farm.

“Both of ...” Alex pondered the statement until she once more looked at the faerin lad who was so sadly devoid of anything resembling proper armor or weapons. She did a double and staggered back as if struck by a sudden and surprising revelation. “Does he mean to say you are an enterprising adventurer as well? But you... well you look just like a farmer! How do you expect to defend yourself? You don't even have a shield!” Despite asking many questions, Alex had hardly given the time for any of them to be answered. Instead she seemed to catch herself, clear her throat, and seemed to be attempting to begin again. “Forgive me. I have not even introduced myself. It seems we have both chosen to help these fair people, such nobility should not be judged. I am Alex Marquardt!” She extended one gaunteleted hand to the other Faerin and waited for him to return the greeting in kind.