Bug Exterminators Extraordinaire

[Krugor]

((Closed to Roscar Palidyne.))

The quiet and cooling feel that had Concordia in its grasp that morning was rudely disturbed by an angry looking skeleton, mumbling out loud. The undead had a look to kill on his face and aggressively slammed his staff into the soft soil every time he took another step. It was still early in the morning, most of the animals that resided in the forest weren’t even awake and dew still hung from the many leaves, but Krugor was already cursing as he went along. Keeping a quick pace the skeleton followed the small path that guided him through the forest to his goal; poor Edon’s farm. It had been a long night, one in which he couldn’t sleep and so Krugor decided it would be better to already go on his way. The longer he kept the farmer with those “bugzes”, the shorter his expected lifespan would be.

“I’ll show those mantises! Messing about with a farmer who can’t even write a simple letter, bah! How dare they…”

After a long walk through, mostly, dirt, Krugor arrived at the farm. It wasn’t a big farm when compared to some of the ranches the other farmers in this region had, but it was still quite the magnificent sight. The early morning sun shined just over the roof and Krugor had a beautiful view of the building and its meadows.

Right in front of the skeleton, in a big clearing in the forest, stood a single building. Its walls were made of thick, round wooden beams and the roof was covered in hay. On several places along the wall there were sawed out squares, apparently functioning as windows. At every side of the house were long, stretched out meadows. Alfalfa grew here so big that it could reach Krugor’s elbows as he passed through it. For as far as the eye could see there were alfalfa meadows, and on three places in these meadows stood a cylinder shaped building. Krugor guessed those would be used for storing excess hay.

“Hey there! Are you by any chance poor Edon?”

The skeleton had spotted a young man, cutting away some of the alfalfa with a scythe. These farmer types were already hard at work so early in the morning. More or less expecting that the farmer would be extremely welcome of somebody helping him out Krugor walked up to Edon, holding out his hand.

“You go away, you demon!” the man cried.

In an attempt to ready himself for any attacks that might come from the skeleton, Edon held up his scythe, prepared to do battle. But the man was shaking heavily, obviously frightened by the looks of the skeleton. He wasn’t a battle hardened warrior, he was but a poor farmer who couldn’t even deal with some bugs.

“Whoa! Take it easy, good sir. I’m here to help you out with your…bug problem” Krugor friendly replied.

“R-really? Edon could use help with bugs, yes”

“I know. That’s why I am here. I’m here to help you, good man.”

Edon still looked a bit unnerving around Krugor, but he was seemingly easing as the cook explained of the kiosk and Edon’s note. This triggered the young farmer to ramble, and it wasn’t long before Edon broke into tears and explained to Krugor how no one responded to his note for such a long time and that he had thought about burning down his farm, just to be safe from the bugs. Feeling sorry for Edon, Krugor laid his arm around the man’s shoulder and motioned him to move inside the farm. They needed to talk about this bug infestation some more, though not outside. The man could use a good, warm cup of tea. And so could Krugor.

But, just as they moved towards the building another figure come moving through the meadows. It didn’t looked like a bug, but the skeletal cook couldn’t think of anything other that could be all the way out here, in the middle of nowhere.

“Who are you?!” he shouted, scaring Edon a bit with the sudden raise in his voice.

[Roscar Palidyne]

The great Concordia forest. It was somewhat surreal to be back under the cool canopy of the great trees that the forest was made up of. Only a few months had passed since he had last been here, but his mind had grown considerably since, as if a decade had passed by in those eventful days in Raiaera, Alerar, and the Tular plains. Roscar now had a goal, albeit unexplainable to even himself it was. He just knew that he had to get to Salvar. But....he couldn't just walk there. No. He had to go the way they went. Whoever they were. All he had to go by was a muddled dream, but somehow it felt enough to plunge him headfirst into this blind search to maybe find out who he was. Roscar would have to get to Salvar by ship.

But before all of that, there was one place Roscar had to first go. The place that he had "awakened" in; Underwood. Why, he wasn't sure. Maybe he wanted the nostalgia and the familiarity that it had. Maybe more was there, now that he wasn't a child completely blind to the outside world, having traversed through much of it now. There was no telling until Roscar got there for himself. However, like all plans he seemed to have, the incorporation of detours seemed to be a common trend, so he was rarely surprised to take longer to get to places than he previously thought.

After a restful night spent under the watchful limbs of trees all around, the morning sun was just barely peeking through the many leaves that guarded the grounds of the forest. But as Roscar began trekking through it, it became clear that the sun was becoming more prominent, meaning that there had to be a clearing coming up. Thinking a quick basting in the sun would be nice to Roscar's chilly old arms, he hastened his pace to a brisk walk. The trees soon were left behind him, and in their place was a quaint little farmhouse gifted with fields of alfalfa swaying through the welcoming wind of a calm morning. Roscar was happy to come across such a place on his journey. The sight remained soothing until his eyes laid upon two figures among the meadows. Not wanting to seem like a threat, he began to close the distance between the two. The sight made Roscar's heart jump: A skeleton seemed to be grabbing what seemed to be a young man, probably the farmer of these fields. He heard someone yell something at him, he guessed it was the farmer because he didn't think skeletons could talk, but he coulnd't make out what it was. Perhaps a scream for help. Putting one hand to his mouth to amplify, Roscar belts a reply.

"Don't you worry! I'll help you!"

And with that, he removed his spear from behind his back, and began to charge forth, trying to close the distance between him and the skeleton and its hostage with long, quick strides. Who knows what that monster could be wanting to do to the poor boy. But before he could even get into throwing range, Roscar found himself dropping into an unexpected, his shortspear just inches shy from reach and leaving him waist deep in the ground, his feet dangling below him but his body unable to fit through the entire hole. He struggles in the hole, trying to twist, kick, or even push himself out, but his arms had no leverage. Here he was, trapped in some random hole in the ground and the skeleton was coming ever closer. All he could hope for was to distract the skeleton, maybe helping the farmer make a run for it while the skeleton munched on Roscar's brains...or whatever the heck the undead did.

"Hey! Ugly! Why don't you come over here and pick on someone your own size, and leave that poor man alone?!"