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The Big Oof! Volume 2 Chapter 49: Hearts and Minds
🕑 Added 2023-06-28 08:11:03 +0000 UTCTrudging through the shanty town that was, inconceivably, even more impoverished than the slums within the city walls, the crew finally emerged to find themselves facing what could only be described as farmland.
Even though it was expected,it was still a jarring sight to an expanse of land that bore the signs of cultivation amidst the squalor. However, the farmland was as much a testament to the exploitation of a lower class that were slaves in everything but name. The fields were dotted with lush crops despite the hardship evident in the surrounding landscape, the farmland they stumbled upon was unexpectedly lush and well-tended.
Row upon row of verdant crops stretched out before them, their healthy stalks swaying gently in the breeze, and in the ocean of green were individuals of all races toiling away under the punishing heat. Elves, Beastkin, Ferfolk - their sweat-soaked bodies bent over in labor, hands expertly working the soil or tending to the crops. There was a rhythm to their movements, born out of necessity and repetition, but it was a dance of despair rather than joy.
Every now and then, an armored overseer would pass by, their watchful eyes scanning the workers with a bludgeon in hand, ready to punish any perceived slackness.
Azeline walked to one such overseer and called out for his attention, “Hey! Are these slaves or Serfs!?”
The overseer, a bulky Minotaur looking Humanoid with a scarred face, turned to regard Azeline with a look of mild surprise. He looked her up and down, taking in her weapons and the group she was leading. A slow, disdainful smile spread across his face as he answered, "Slaves.” He said sadistically. “They be workin' off their crimes."
Bennett scanned farmland at the field workers who seemed to flinch with his gaze. One particular slave was a child not older than ten, bent double under the weight of a large sack. His heart clenched painfully at the sight. "Crimes?" he asked with a raised eyebrow.
The overseer bludgeon bounced up and down in his hand as he shifted his attention. "That’s right, crimes.” He said, following Bennett’s gaze. “I remember this one. He was caught begging in the upper districts and refused to bow to his betters...you know, the usual."
“THE USUAL!?” Elijah yelled incredulously. “Ah, right! How could we forget that’s THE USUAL.” He said sarcastically while holding his head laughing. “Holy shit, this place is fucked.”
A sigh left Azeline's mouth as she turned to take over the conversation. "Look, we have a job to do and we just want to know where the Serfs are." she said in exasperation. “We’re looking for ones that have gone missing lately.”
"Missing Serfs, huh?" The overseer took a moment to scratch the base of his horn, as he thought about their question. "I don’t know about lately, but there’s been talk of loved ones gone missing further out at the outskirts." he pointed Northeast. “Follow that road and ye gonna find yerself at a cluster of hamlets.”
"Thanks," Azeline said in a curt and strained voice as she motioned to Elijah and Bennet to follow. "Let's move," she declared, and without waiting for a response, she turned on her heel and began walking in the direction the overseer had indicated.
Elijah and Bennett exchanged a glance of uneasy agreement before trailing after Azeline, leaving behind the chilling presence of the overseer. As they continued towards the outskirts, the route carried them further away where the dreary slave plots suddenly transformed into spirited farmlands, dotted with humble cottages and patchworked barns.
The landscape was adorned with clusters of trees that served as natural borders, separating the various plots of land. Amidst the lush green, a medley of exotic, vibrant colors caught the eye, creating a stark contrast to the misery they had witnessed earlier. This rustic haven seemed to defy the reality of the world they had just left behind, offering a moment of serenity.
"Wow, this ain't so bad," Elijah mused aloud, a hint of pleasant surprise lacing his tone. As they meandered through the charming scene, Yana found her way out of her hideaway, her tiny form zipping around in the fresh air. Elijah moved leisurely, hands idly interlocked behind his head, while his ears caught the occasional melodic chirp or watched curious critters peek out from the underbrush.
Even Bennett and Azeline appeared to be more at ease as they advanced towards a picturesque hamlet, nestled comfortably adjacent to a small grove of trees. There was a certain charm to the place as quaint cottages showed signs of patchwork from frequent repairs, and were coupled with the colorful foliage that playfully wrapped around the structures, dotting them with spots of green, red, and yellow.
With the sun now comfortably perched in the sky, it painted the hamlet in soft, warm hues while its community bustled with activity. Handcarts laden with various goods trundled along the rough-hewn paths while strange livestock meandered, punctuating the air with their distinctive sounds.
In the midst of the busyness, villagers exchanged friendly nods and quick chats, their faces reflecting the easy going nature of their lives in stark contrast to the harshness of the city. Children played in the streets, their laughter and shouts echoing through the air, adding to the perception of safety.
A perception the crew knew was false, or else they wouldn’t be here.
“Well, I’ll admit.” Bennett said, scratching his head as he surveyed the scene before them. “I expected something a lot worse. I mean everywhere else seems to be an absolute shit hole." His tone held a note of cautious skepticism.
Casting a look over her shoulder Azeline let her shield dangle idly from her arm as she thought about what Bennett said. “Serfs are valuable assets," she explained, her tone matter-of-fact. "It's crucial for their lords that they remain content and in good health. Otherwise, productivity declines, and so does their wealth." With that, she turned back, her gaze scanning the hamlet as they continued their journey into its heart.
Bennett’s face contorted, showing his perplexity as he mulled over her words. “Alright, but why are we the ones out here and not the local law enforcement?” He questioned, gesturing vaguely at their surroundings. "Shouldn't the ‘lords’ be handling the issue of disappearing peasants?”
“First of all, they’re Serfs, not peasants. And secondly, well… there’s a lot of reasons.” Azeline said, fully turning around to face Elijah as they came to a stop. “Letting Freelancers deal with the problem is not only cheaper, but the money will eventually flow back into the lord’s pocket due to taxes.” She explained. “Third, there just hasn’t been enough of them disappearing for the Lords to care.”
“So in essence, it’s not a problem until it becomes one,” Elijah said with a cynical scowl on his face.
Azeline gave a nonchalant shrug in response. "More or less," she concurred, her gaze drifting back to the peaceful hamlet. "And we’re only here because our Tasker is putting us through a trial," she finished, making her way towards the most prominent cottage.
Both of the humans could only shake their head in derision as they trailed behind Azeline. Meanwhile, the surrounding Serfs paused in their tasks to observe the newcomers with a curious yet cautious gaze. Mothers swiftly gathered their playing children, pulling them closer and whispering into their ears as they eyed the strangers warily.
The villagers' wary behavior didn't even faze the crew as they steadily marched towards their intended destination. The building before them was more substantial in size and had less patchwork done than its neighboring huts and was nestled in the heart of the hamlet. Upon reaching the door, Azeline confidently lifted a gloved hand and delivered a series of bangs on the weather-worn wood door.
The sound echoed through the tranquil air, a resounding declaration of their presence that demanded attention. It was a clear statement: whoever was at the door was not someone to be overlooked.
“Uhh…” Elijah looked at Azeline in uncertainty as she aggressively continued to slam on the door. “If we’re trying to get information out of these guys, then shouldn’t we be a tad bit more diplomatic?*
Elijah's words hung in the air just as the door creaked open and an older man peaked through the crack. “May I help ye?” The old man asked fearfully. The lines of age and stress were etched onto his face as his weary yet sharp eyes assessed the trio standing on his doorstep.
Azelline gave Elijah a bewildered look before turning her attention to the old man. “Are you this hamlet’s elder?” She asked in an authoritative voice.
The elderly man, taken aback by Azeline's assertive tone, hesitated for a moment before nodding slowly. "Aye, that be I… madam," he answered, his voice carrying a hint of uncertainty as he opened the door a bit wider. "We weren't expecting... no ones," he admitted, his gaze flickering over the trio, "No ones that was... so well-armed at least"
Lifting her head in a huff, Azeline looked down on the man through narrowed eyes, her confrontational demeanor unchanging. "Well, you hired us," she stated matter-of-factly, her tone authoritative. "We were here to find out why you lot keep disappearing."
A mix of relief and lingering suspicion flashed across the elder's features. "So they gone and finally sent someone, eh?" he grumbled with a very bitter undertone to his voice. "Took a few more of ours to vanish for them to bother, well ye be months late. Dozen more are missin’. Women, children, hunters." The old man nearly spat.
Azeline kept staring at him in an uninterested manner as the old man rambled. "We're here now," she retorted, a touch of impatience in her tone. "Do you want help or not–"
“Alright, that’s enough.” Elijah said, grabbing her arm and pulling her away. “Give us a moment please!” Elijah said to the Elder with an awkward smile as Azeline stumbled along with a surprised look on her face.
Once out of earshot of the elder, Elijah turned to Azeline and looked at the woman as if she lost her mind. “What the fuck was that…?” He asked the blonde Northern woman in a bewildered voice while gesturing towards her with his hands. “Why the hell are you being so hostile?” Elijah continued with a voice full of confusion. "Don’t you think it’s going to be a little hard to get them to cooperate if you’re a dick?"
Azeline met his confused gaze, with her own. "They’re serfs!" she retorted, crossing her arms over her chest. "I don’t see why we should coddle and make friends with slaves in everything but name."
Elijah sighed deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose. "It's not about making friends, Azeline. It's…” Elijah paused and took another deep breath. “Look, just let me handle this, okay?”
Narrowing her eyes at him, Azeline pressed her lips into a thin line and tapped her foot. But after a moment of tense silence, she let out a huff and stepped back, waving a dismissive hand at him. "Fine, go be their friend then."
Ignoring the snarky comment, Elijah turned to the elder and approached him while the rest of the crew stood around and chatted. "Apologies for the earlier rudeness, elder. My colleague has had a terrible day and was unable to help but lash out." Elijah began, his tone steady and respectful. "We understand this is a difficult time for you and your hamlet, but we’re here to help."
“Ye still be months late.” The elder replied, narrowing the gap in the door with an untrusting look.
"Oh ya, I completely understand why you would be frustrated. If I was in your position I’d be equally as mad, if not more so," Elijah replied, his voice filled with empathy. "But it looks like you’re a very wise and tolerant man and there’s no way I could hold a candle to your patience”
Elijah then gestured towards his crew, but his eye immediately started twitch when he noticed Yana buzzing around one of the local children. “We’re a group of foreign Freelancers contracted specifically to help with the city guard and his lordship with situations that have been plaguing the city and its surroundings.," Elijah continued, maintaining his composure while subtly signaling Yana to behave.
"See, the powers that be, they've been tied up with all manner of troubles that have stirred within the slums after an onset of miasma." Elijah added, noting the elder's eyes widening with surprise and concern at the mention of miasma. "So they've taken to hiring professionals, like us, to handle these situations with the attention and care they deserve."
"Miasma?" The elder asked, his voice cracking slightly. "There’s an outbreak of miasma. Is it contained?"
Forcing down the smile that was forming on his face, Elijah furrowed his brow and scratched his head as if he was distressed. “There was an outbreak that wiped out half of a town along the river…” He said with a solemn and regretful tone. "We managed to contain it, but it was a close call."
The elder's eyes grew wide with shock, and he clasped a hand over his mouth, his knuckles white. He glanced back into his cottage for a moment before stepping aside and gesturing for the crew to enter. "I understand," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "Come in, we can talk more and I can tell ye more of our loved ones being snatched."
Elijah nodded in deference. "Thank you, sir," he said respectfully before turning back to his crew with a cheeky smile and a thumbs up.
Following behind the old man, Elijah and the crew were greeted with an interior as homely as the exterior. A large hearth dominated the space with a patch work of pelts sewn together around it to serve as a makeshift rug. One glance around and one could see that the furniture was sparse, worn with age and use but well maintained. A large cast iron pot simmered on the fire, filling the room with an earthy aroma, a testament to the simple yet hearty lives the serfs led.
Looking up, Bennett made a difficult face as he saw the smoke wafting up to the roof, discoloring the wooden beams and thatched ceiling with soot and ventilating through cut outs on the side of the cottage. "Not exactly the most efficient ventilation system, is it?" he commented, looking at his Captain.
Elijah shot him a worried glance, also noticing the smoke-filled room. "We won't be here long," he replied with a soft shrug, trying to alleviate Bennett's concerns.”I hope.”
With that, everyone followed the elder into the heart of the cottage as he led them towards the hearth and took a seat on the floor. Looking around, the crew saw that there were no chairs and reluctantly took a seat on the floor as well. Their faces contorted in slight disgust when they felt the grass like rushes beneath the hide rug and remembered what they experienced at that destitute village.
"Thank you again for welcoming us into your home," Elijah began, his voice steady and comforting as he met the elder's eyes. "I know that trust is a hard thing to come by these days, and we're here to help, not to add to your hardships."
The elder gaze lingered on what he assumed was a large primate before giving a small nod, his face etched with worry and mistrust. "I believe ye be foreigners. I aint ever seen a Primate like ye two, and the obvious northern woman.” he replied. “We be just simple folk here," The old man’s voice then became nearly a whisper. "But with our children and women bein’ snatched… it’s been hard."
Elijah nodded with a frown occupying his face. "I… I can’t imagine," he said softly, his tone filled with empathy. "We come from different lands, it's true. But we share the same sky, the same hopes for peace and safety." Elijah empathized, as he locked eyes with the Elder. “But we’re here now and we’ll do everything we can.”
He paused for a moment, allowing his words to sink in before he continued. "I believe, before we dive into the painful details of our task, it might be good for us to understand a bit more about your community." Elijah explained, adjusting his rifle to be more comfortable as Yana crawled into his pocket. “What kind of hamlet is this? What do you all farm here?”
The elder seemed to relax a little as the conversation shifted to familiar, less daunting territory. He took a moment, glancing around the room as if drawing strength from his surroundings before speaking again.
"We be a humble hamlet, sir," he started, his voice gaining strength as he spoke of his community. "We grow Fennelroot and Qullix and maintain a few heads of cattle. We got some orchards too... Vistels and Cendleberries over at the outskirts mainly."
Elijah had NO fucking idea what any of those were and just nodded with a feigned look of understanding on his face. “Vistels and Cendleberries? Those sounds… delicious.” He said in a convincing tone, trying to hide his cluelessness.
Chuckling softly, the old man sat up tall with a glimmer of pride shining in his eyes. "We be simple, but our Vistels and Cendleberries… they be sweetest think ye ever tasted.” He gloated. “And the bread... well, just ye wait. Ye had no real meal less ye had the bread."
The conversation lingered on food and the community for a while longer before Elijah tried to steer it back to the reason why they were here. "The pride you have in your community and the work you all do here is clear as day," Elijah began, leaning in closer and shifting his tone. "And that's why we want to help you preserve it.” He smoothly transitioned to their job. “There’s a saying from where I come from; The youth is the future. And we want to help put an end to whatever's plaguing you, we’re going to need a lot more details in order to provide effective assistance."
The elder nodded, the lines on his face deepening as he steeled himself to speak of the tragedies that had befallen his people. "Aye… Dozens of ‘em too," he began, his voice carrying the weight of many sleepless nights. "Women and children, they the ones who go missing. Most were snatch along the orchard, but then they be disappearing along the road leading to the farms and recently… Recently some been snatched right outta their beds at night!”
Elijah frowned, absorbing the information with a difficult expression. The situation seemed more complicated than he thought, and it appeared the serfs weren’t merely just wandering off and getting lost… it appeared that someone or something was deliberately abducting them. And whatever was grabbing them, was growing increasingly bold. "Are there any witnesses?" He questioned, his mind already trying to piece together the puzzle.
Taking a deep breath, the elders eyes filled with dangerous clint as he leaned in and spoke in a whisper. "Aye… Aye, there have been. Few of the children have seen their friends bein’ taken... It’s the shadows, they say. Shadows that move and take 'em away." He said as if someone was listening in on the conversion. “The evil spirits sent by the traitor gods… they be prowling our lands.”
"Shadows that move?" Elijah asked, a quizzical look crossing his face. “During the night or during the day?” He asked, trying to clarify.
The elder's gaze became distant, as if he was peering into the shadowy corners of a past filled with horror. "Both," he replied, his voice barely above a whisper. "They say the shadows are more brazen at night, but they’ve been seen at dusk near the orchard by the treeline leading into the forest.”
Tapping on his rifle in a rhythmic fashion, Elijah found himself deep in thought as he mulled over the elders words. Considering the lessons from his own world's history, he understood that people of the old man’s caste were highly superstitious and didn't want to count the supernatural out. His own experiences from when he first landed on this psychotic planet told him that things which seemed impossible could, and often did, exist here. However, there were a plethora of explanations for these supposed moving shadows, and not all of them involved them being ghosts.
“Can we go inspect where the victims have been abducted and speak to the witnesses?” Elijah asked, breaking the silence that had fallen over the room. "It would be helpful to understand what exactly happened and to hear firsthand accounts."
The elder looked deep into Elijah's eyes for a moment, as if evaluating the sincerity of his words. Finally, he nodded, a weary sigh escaping his lips. "Aye... I don’t see what good it do, but ye can do that," he agreed, slowly standing up. "Wait here, I’ll go fetch the youngins and a hunter to escort ye."
Comments
scribbles
the sensor and AR overlays aren't overt, but you have the general idea of how i'm trying to make it feel
Tupperwarez
This sounds like the start of a Witcher contract. A bit of detective work and monster hunting would be a nice change from being constantly hassled by loonies. Come to think of it, with all their biomods and augmentations, Eli and Ben are kinda like Witchers, haha. Especially after they break out the sensor gear and AR overlays to examine the crime scenes. Activate Witcher Sense indeed...
