Wild ARMs: Group 1, Chapter 1, Good Samaritans or Mercenaries...

[Krylo]

The small dusty town of Destin had been plagued by demi-human attacks recently. Their citizens were no match for these creatures, and so the call went out for good drifters. The pay wasn't very good for the danger, though, a mere one thousand gella for rescuing the town from a band of hob bandits.

However, there were some drifters who were either so down on their luck or good hearted enough to take the job, anyway. And, of course, there was always the potential of one merely being in the right place at the wrong time.

Destin was a small town, and nothing but dust and tumbleweeds ran through the streets these days. The well was mostly dry and its water muddy, as the bandits had destroyed it, and the people of the city felt no need to keep it up after so many attacks. Their women had been hauled off with their food, and what was left were the gaunt and disparate skeletons of what had once been a peaceful and loving town.

They were offering what they could, but few still held out hope for their rescue.

(OOC: Enter the town however you like. The mayor will, of course, see you. I plan on you meeting up as you take the job and going from there, however I don't really mind if any of you are already associated. Either way, you will be after this)

[Truce]

There was nothing special about the little hole called Destin that had drawn this particular man here; in fact, a day before he had not even known it existed. It was only by accident did he stumble onto it, and at the time he had thought of it as little more than a ghost town.

And he was right. Even if their hearts remained beating it was easily apparent that the spirit of the locals was gone, and they didn't even bother to seem alarmed when he had arrived, with smoke steadily flowing from underneath his heavy cloak. Only a few wary glances told him that they even acknowledged his presence, and he wasn't entirely sure if they were really focusing on him or not.

All he knew was that they simply didn't care, at least not about him. After hearing what had happened he was sure that even if he had come to help, which he hadn't, they wouldn't have raised their hopes in the belief that such a thing would be trampled anyway, and there was nothing worth taking in this town that the hob bandits hadn't already stolen or destroyed. For those that bothered to make the effort, they would have thought that he would have done just what other drifters before had and leave.

He probably should have, too. He had his own troubles to deal with. However, before he knew it, he was standing at the front of the mayor's office, hand already on the knob. He paused only for a moment to question just how much he would regret this before opening the door.

"Truce Delaquesta, at your service."

[mammothtank]

Her axe in one hand and her knapsack in the other, Rebecca stood at the entrance of the desolate town. It looked nearly as lively as a funeral. There was no activity; the few people who were outside were sitting around looking defeated.

"What happened here...?" she wondered aloud.

"Hobs happened here. That's what," one man offered. He seemed very eager to have the town's plight well known. "We have almost nothing left. They took our food and our wives, and destroyed our well. You're a Drifter - won't you help us?"

Rebecca sighed. Well, there goes my hope for a decent meal tonight. "Where is your mayor? I'll speak with him."

The man indicated the mayor's office, which Rebecca started toward. As she did so, she noticed another man, clearly a Drifter by his garb, enter it first. Reaching the door herself, she poked her head inside.

"Is the mayor in?"

[gurusloth]

Jasper walked into Destin and looked around, skeptical that this dried up little town could even pay the 1000 gella they were offering. Unfortunately, his plate was currently bare of other prospects, and he needed the money.

When news of Destin's plight reached the inn he had been staying at, the other Drifters' interests had not been aroused. Most of the people in this game were hunting for one thing or another, usually treasure or revenge. Jasper only wanted a few Gella to rub together and a hot meal, and so he gathered his meager belongings and headed out for Destin.

There was no sign of the residents of the town visible as Jasper strolled up the main street. Looking around, he saw the building marked as the Mayor's Office, and noticed some people heading inside. Great, he thought, I've got competition. Although, he considered, it might be nice to have someone to help with the dirty work, and even if they had to split the bounty, it'd still be a decent amount compared to what he had now, which was a pocket full of lint. Maybe even one or both of them might have their own ARMs. That'd make short work of most hobs, and he could just tag along for the ride.

Sighing and adjusting his pack, Jasper walked up to the door of the office and opened it. "I'm here about the hob job, if it's still available," he announced.

[Red Mage Black]

Leon came upon the small town of Destin, a shell of what it used to be. He heard a few rumors circling the town that a group of Gobs kept attacking and by now had stolen food and women. "Such cowards." He thought to himself. "A town that was completely self sufficient has been turned to scrap by filthy demi-humans. Those bastards will pay for their weakness. The only reason they're stealing is because of those ARMs users. They turned this wonderful world into a wasteland. I'll kill every last one of them if I have to."

What remained of the town had disgusted Leon. Their very will to fight had been drained to the point of constant losses. He came upon the mayors office. This looked no better then the town. "Maybe I can be of some help here." Leon knocked on the door a few times.

"Hello, I'm here for the job you're offering. Is it still available?"

[Krylo]

The Mayor's office was only in slightly better repair than the rest of this dilapidated ghost town. The walls were all intact, where in other places they had begun to deteriorate from the wind and sand, and his desk and floor were both clean and in good condition.

However, no pictures hung about the room, no trophies adorned the desk or wall, no carpets sat on the floor, and his chair had no cushions. All fineries had been stripped clean.

The mayor himself was a mirror of his office. He was thin and gaunt--and it was obvious had had once been overweight and well fed--yet he was still healthy. He had not starved himself yet, as his station allotted him access to a greater share of the town's dwindling resources, yet his eyes were listless and his posture broken. Just like the room around him he was a mockery of what he should be--yet he still served his purpose.

As the dream chasers arrived, not one, not two, not even three, but four in quick succession the Mayor moved to his feet with a speed that one would assume that his frame could no longer support. The plain wooden chair, which would have looked more at home in a bar, fell clattering to the ground behind him.

"Yes, yes! Please help us!" he implored as he ran about his desk, grabbing Truce's hands and prostating himself before the drifters, "Please, any of you... all of you. Just stop the Hobs and bring back our family members," he paused for a moment a this, tears welling in his eyes as he thought of his own wife and daughter, "...or their remains... please..."

This man was no longer a negotiator. He was not the man who any of them had been used to seeing on these jobs as his eyes moved back and forth from drifter to drifter. He was desperate, broken, and pathetic. Any pride he had once had was lost on the harsh desert winds.

It was obvious that they could get anything he had.

The only question remaining was how much they would take.

[Truce]

Three more people had come, each one a drifter like himself. The first, a woman that looked as old as he did, appeared to come with more curiosity than purpose, while the other two were both older men that entered with the clear intent to take the job.

None of them looked like they were after him-but looks could be deceiving.

Truce had other things to worry about though-like the shadow of a man before him, and the desperate situation of the town.

There was little point in dealing with either. In the state both were in, what they would offer was more than what they could afford to give, and Truce had not yet considered himself villainous enough to take what little they had left.

However, Truce wasn't the type to help people out of the goodness of his heart. He knew that for his own sake he shouldn't walk away from this completely empty handed, not if he wished for his continued survival.

"Two hundred gella," Truce finally said, holding up two gloved fingers. "As well as any supplies needed. That is my price."

[Red Mage Black]

Leon looked down at the man. He was obviously desperate to see his family again and would pay anything.

"It won't be cheap.... two hundred fifty gella. What do you say? Just to get back at a group of Hobs."

He nodded at the man and awaited the other's responses.

[mammothtank]

Several thoughts ran through Rebecca's mind.

The first was, How can we possibly take money from these people in their time of need? This is just horrible.

The practical part of her mind chimed in. How can we not? We're drifters. We need stuff too. I'm out of money, and I nearly lost my head on that last job. I need heal berries for missions like that... and this, for that matter.

She thought a little longer. "Hmm... How about two heal berries and a packful of food? That's all I really need at the moment..."

[Krylo]

The mayor was quick to acquiesce to their demands, he didn't even let the final drifter speak before answering, and he most certainly hadn't taken any time debating (if even registering) what the others had requested. "Yes yes... please, anything you want. Almost everything we have left... money... food... herbs... it's been gathered at the edge of town for the hobs... today is when they come for their offering. Take it... just please... free us," he gushed, his eyes moving over the drifters pleadingly.