HELPER’S HAND
A SHORT STORY OF THE FOUR WORLDS
(Set During The Dispersed Era)
The small village of Lotnan was quiet, fairly unusual for a place such as it is. Villagers moved throughout the town, going about their daily habits and routines. While do so, a few were startled by the appearance of a sudden figure. Cloaked in his duster and hat. His horse brown as the dirt. The footsteps of the mount gave presence. The villagers knew it was a Warslinger of the Heptad. They each moved from him, giving him nods of respect. The Warslinger nodded back, continuing through the village.
“Please, please help!” Someone screamed in the distance. “I need help!”
A rugged young man ran with speed, approaching the Warslinger. Fear lived in the young man’s eyes and the Warslinger could see it clearly. He looked down at the young villager. Discernment kept him focused and his presence keen.
“What appears to be the problem?”
“You’re… you’re a Warslinger, right?”
“I am.”
“There’s something lurking around our village. Something terrifying.”
“Tell me what it is and I’ll deal with it.”
“I would, but, you must follow me.”
“Follow you?” The Warslinger questioned. “Give me the description of the cause.”
“I would, but, it’s better if you can follow me back to my home. I’ll explain everything there.”
The Warslinger stared. He nodded. Humoring the young man as he followed him to his home. His home was near the edge of the village on the other end. The Warslinger jumped from his horse and entered the home. Inside, he saw a young woman and a young girl. Also present were candles, floral material, and other minerals.
“Is this your family?”
“Yes sir.”
The Warslinger greeted the woman and the child.
“Where is the problem you spoke of?”
“It’s not that easy to describe. Perhaps, I can elaborate in a slow manner.”
“Tell me of your concern before I take my leave.”
The young man hesitated to say another word as the Warslinger approached him. His presence startled the young man and his eyes were intense. Even the young woman chose to take the child and herself into another room.
“Say it.”
“Ok. I brought you out here to stop some bandits.”
“Bandits?” The Warslinger said. “Where are your protectors? Isn’t it their job to protect?”
“They’re being paid off by the bandits. Some say they’re in agreement to slaughter the village to ensure complete control over the people.”
“A slaughter to gain profit.” The Warslinger nodded. “Very well. Where are these bandits located?”
“East of the village.”
The Warslinger nodded.
“Then, that is where I must go.”
“Sir.” The young man said, running toward the Warslinger. “There’s nearly a dozen of them. You’re just one man. You might need some assistance.”
The Warslinger paused and sighed.
“Young one, I’ve been in enough shooter-fights to determine my survival. dealing with a band of thieves won’t be a problem.”
The Warslinger exited the young man’s home and traveled eastward on the village. Making his stop, he noticed several men. Three of them walking down the main road. The Warslinger stopped his horse and sat by one of the trees, watching the men take their walk. He could hear their conversation. Speaking of such events regarding more raids of livestock, food, and women. He knew they were part of the band of bandits. Therefore, the Warslinger waited until the men led him to their camp. Scouting the area, the Warslinger concluded the camp was full of men. Twelve in total. Keeping his horse a few feet distant from the camp, he loaded his ark shooters and walked into the camp.
“The hell are you supposed to be, strander?” One of the bandits questioned.
The bandits all stood up and walked toward the Warslinger. Their hands on their weapons. From swords to staves and axes. However, one of the bandits stared at the Warslinger. Taking note of his attire from his hat, coat and posture, the bandit began taking steps back. Bumping into his comrades as they shoved him.
“What’s your deal?”
“You don’t know what he is!”
“Who the hell is he?”
“You seriously don’t know? He’s one of them.”
“One of what?” A bandit asked.
The Warslinger took a step forward, startling the bandits. They cleaned their weapons as the Warslinger stared with a calm focus. The presence of him caused the bandits to question their current circumstance as the warning bandit ran out of the campsite.
“I’ve heard words of your harassment toward the village of Lotnan.”
“Yeah. They have things we need. Things to survive in this desolate world. What gives?”
“Their hard work doesn’t deserve the wickedness of your hands.”
“Listen, strander. You’re interrupting a night of peace. Best you leave us be before you end up in the ground you’re standing on.”
“So, it’s death then?”
“Death it is.” The lead bandit said with a touch of cockiness in his voice.
The Warslinger nodded. Raising his hands, holding the arkshooters, he began firing rounds into the bandits. They cowered the campsite in terror as the shots echoed through the air. The Warslinger kept his posture as he pulled the trigger continuously. Reloading after six shots and returning fire. It wasn’t long before the entire campsite was silent with only the kindling fire remaining. The Warslinger searched the campsite, seeing eleven of the bandits dead. Their blood pouring into the earth. He nodded and went out into the wilderness in search of the bandit who fled. Traveling not far from the village, the Warslinger eventually found him hiding amongst the villagers. The bandit saw him and dropped to his knees in terror. He held his hands up begging for forgiveness.
“I am not the one who you should be begging for forgiveness.”
The villagers had ran out of the sight of the Warslinger as he held his arkshooter toward the bandit’s forehead. His finger slowly on the trigger as the bandit cried in fear.
“How many of these villagers have you killed?”
“I’ve… I’ve killed none.”
“None. You’re saying it was your associates who did all the evil? The plundering? The raping and the killing?”
“Yes. I suggest we could possibly talk to the villagers, but they refuse. Said using force was a better option.”
The Warslinger nodded.
“What is your name?”
“Joseph.”
“Well, Joseph, if I let you live this day, do you promise to turn your life around? For the better of not only yourself, but for those who seek peace in their own lives?”
“Yes. Yes I do.”
“Very well. I will let you live this day, Joseph. Leave this village and find another place to dwell. When the morning comes, begin your new life. A life I have given you.”
“Thank you, Warslinger. I will not forget this.”
“I hope not. Because, if I ever receive word of another similar event and you’re in the area, I will send you to the Outer-World. Without haste.”
Joseph nodded. Quickening in his shoes as the tears flowed.
“Now go.”
Joseph had fled the village of Lotnan as the Warslinger returned to the young man’s home to fill him in on the news. Hearing the clearing of the bandits brought the young man happiness. For himself, his family, and the village entirely. The villagers received the news and celebrated the Warslinger’s helping hand as he rode off, continuing on his journey toward The Haunted City.