A Desert Dinner interrupted [Job/Solo]

Spoiler:

Amber sands danced in ribbons across the mountain-like dunes. The sun was already at its' peak, warming the sands to blazing hotbeds. Few would dare to venture outside the city of Balbadd on a day like this, a sandstorm seemed imminent. While chances were still up it wasn't a risk many would take, especially with the stench of death on the air. Strangely enough, the one person brave enough to venture out was the very source of that stench. As quickly as the smell appeared it would vanish. Casrare would hold back the stench from his diseased body as sand picked up would gently kiss his skin.

Each the knight took would wash away only seconds after. He would trudge through as the desert began to slowly batter him with more of its' body. Normally he wouldn't wish to be out in these conditions like an average person. However, he had some confusion in his heart and pockets in need of money so here he was on the hunt for a group of bandits. They were the local low-slum scourge of the cities outer reaches. It was by no means a big job, but that meant they would be no-names that he could let his frustrations out on. It felt wrong to treat people like punching bags but hey at least he wasn't going to kill them. Well, maybe that made it even worse.

There were a few things wrong with this mission, and the first being he was going to be outnumbered, the second being he didn't have any sense of direction. Sure Cas had gotten fortunate with the haggard one-eyed man; He was also fortunate with the scorpion commanding pirate. He also had the pleasure of knowing what he needed to look for, a cavern surrounded by an oasis with pools that held the skies' image. While luck seemed to be in his favor most of this odyssey, now like most of his adventures it was a disaster.

"Hunt some bandits I said, get out some emotion I said..." he would mumble. "I'm always full of great ideas aren't I.." His grumblings to himself would be his only distraction from the oncoming sandstorm. Paying attention might have been a better idea since the winds would surely obscure his only marker but hey like he said great ideas.

It seemed like the journey would truly be worse than the destination and longer than he could imagine. In reality, it had only been about an hour since he left the alabaster paths of the main city. He wanted to trust his gut but so far it had only ever got him in trouble. It would be convenient to fly, but it used a lot of his energy and he needed to keep that while dehydrating. He would do his best to conserve his water but being a walking disease center in these barren lands. Being dehydrated had a way of making life miserable.

The light would catch his eye, something flickering in the wind. His eyes would dart, quickly searching for any place of sanctuary. There, in his sights, he could see it, a mirage! The light shimmered showing him a town similar to his home but that wasn't possible so that meant he was clearly starting to hallucinate already. He didn't realize his constitution had fallen to such a miserable state since his transformation but that was just the way his story was written. It seemed as if the desert was intent on playing jokes on him because now he was seeing a shimmering oasis that seemed to hold a miniature sun.

Then, in the blink of an eye, his ambers eyes zoomed in, focused in hawk precision on the body of water. The waters were of a deep crystal blue, with a mirrored tint. The sun that sat upon the water was reflecting the face of high noon back into the air. There surrounding by colossal arching palms, under their canopies with lemon trees sat a sandstone cave. Its jagged and tall mouth was decorated with the remains of bulls and camels with gold decorating them. Well if one thing could be said, the bandits had style. He didn't feel like messing up their fancy lair but then again it would be a shame to travel back after all this way. On he would step on through, well not before rushing to choke down water from the fresh spring.

After one overly long and uncomfortable drink, he would press on into the mouth, pressing close to the sandy walls. The wall's layers were banded in muddied layers of tangerine and sunflower showing the age of the rock. It was a rather wide walk space, allowing for groups to walk through yet he still found it best to cling close, if this was a stealth operation he didn't wanna take any risks. Since he stood out enough he would continue to walk low under poorly form torch fixtures. Their interior decorating could definitely use some work. Clack The sound would startle him. Below the ribs of a small mammal, a rabbit, or maybe a large rat had clatter forward.

Casrare would slow his breath and focus his ears. It sounded as if no one had been alarmed or at least they weren't approaching. He didn't want to risk it with luck still, so he would need to hurry up and hope for a surprise attack. The knight would step with as light a step as possible. Low and swift he would scurry along deeper into the cave. As he ventured in the bounce of voices would come to him. At first, they would sound like mumbles. Their pitches seemed to alternate, their cadences bounced all around. Hoping this wasn't a discussion on how to kill a plague-infested intruder.

As he crept in the area would be well blocked off, crates caked dust and dirt made up both fortifcations and seating. It really was a shame how poor their planning was with the outside flair, but he had to get his mind off of that. Snaking forward he would slide between the boxes, against the ground he moved in crab walk, hoping to get just close enough to make out their conversation. There was 9 in total, only 3 of which seemed to bother to communicate. Among those three it was pretty easy to make out which one was their leader. He was the only one who wasn't emaciated, his skin was the color of weathered bronze, only a few shades darker than Cas. He stood with a strong body, of tall build but far from stocky. While the others wore tattered robes which blended in with sediment he was dressed in fine blue and green, a veritable peacock of a bandit. It was obvious he didn't care too much for secrecy as his face was in open view. With distant, muted green eyes he stared into space while his wide based jaw held his face firm in toothy grin.

"Come on ya slag heaps, we got more places to loot and ya cryin it might be too hard." Their leader would say, his voice was strong but not very deep, it carried forth in a sing song manner as if there was no miss in his crude dialect. "We've got more important things to do than look at our treasure, tho it do be mighty fine." Greed clung to the mans eyes as he palmed what could be gold based on the glint but it barely graced the knight's eye.

In retaliation one of the men would moan. "We'd be able to steal more if you'd actually fork over some of our gold for food." It appeared this was the main issue as a few others would mutter in agreement.

Still with that sickening smile with chisled teeth he would smile as them as he tried to explain as if they were children. "And what if we sell to the wrong person? We could lose it all and our heads, besides we have plenty of food here!" His mittens of hands pointed over to the corner of their cave. (Did caves have corners?) Thoughts aside Casrare knew well enough none of them were stupid enough to eat what their boss called a meal. The food area glistened with a puddle surrounded by flies. Some struggled to escape the juices as the dampened crates creaked, moaning with an infantile cry. Maybe they should've focused more on finishing their food then getting gold.

"Thats inedible!" one would scream. Another would follow with "You trying to kill us or get us drunk?" A few of the others would start to speak up in disagreement. The cacophony of dialogue would start to sound like a jumbled mess of angst. He couldn't help but feel bad for them, after all the one meant to look out for them was killing them slowly. Greed seemed to have a way of doing that to a person, in a way it made him think of the King. Sure Cas found it strange to be making connections right before he risked his life but life had a funny way of doing that.

Before the fighting could continue further the cavern would shake with fury."QUIET YA DAMN FOOLISH BASTARDS!" Like thunder his voice boomed, what he lacked in bass he made up for in pure volume. The force of his voice seemed to get their attention as now frustration dripped from his every word. "I take care of ya's all so I expect ya to heed my words before I make you heed my fists!" If things went well maybe they'd take care of themselves. Thought life was never that easy, maybe it was about time that he step in soon.

Peeking around the corner he could see it would be easy to take out three of them with a well placed attack as they sat around a fire boiling water and bone. That was one way to make a soup Cas would think to himself. They sat only about 9m away from him, if he was careless they'd hear him before he attacked. So, with a deep breath he would slick his right arm, sweat trickling down to start taking shape. Swinging downward he would flick the Blast Cutter towards their copper stew pot, what a way to make an entrance.

KAKABOOM!!

In a matter of seconds the hungry would be enjoying a mouthful of stewpot would explode into their faces. Leaving them as a set of pinboards the rest would immediately jump to battle position. The scent of the explosion capturing the captains attention he would blurt out "Oi, what smell like shit?!?"

"Thats what we've been saying about the food!" One would say back to him. With an angery glare he stared back, yet before he could speak someone else would.

"Sorry about the smell!" Cas would blurt, leaping into the air were he would float. With his gas bladder keeping him a float he would stare down at them. Some seemed to be bewildered by the sickly horned boy floating above them, yet strangely enough Mr. Big Mouth seemed unimpressed. In fact, he was rather sharp on the draw, throwing a dagger in his chest.

Naturally upset at this action the Sasanid knight would frown. Sure it hurt but he was hoping for a bit more fun from the overly talkative boss but this was just rude. "Didn't your mother ever teach you to put down the knives when someone was talking to you?"

"Not really a good listener, I was too busy seeing how these knives worked on people." He would retort at the knights' comment. Maybe he did have a bit of banter in him, yet before this jovial encounter could continue he'd launch another throwing dagger.

Quicker on the escape this time Casrare would float out of the way, choosing to launch himself towards three more targets, they'd grouped to form stronger pairs but for him it cut down on chase time. He would attempt to head butt them, one would dodge but thankfully he'd be able to catch the other two by clotheslining them before they could jump back. With 5 down, 3 grunts, and a pissed off letter left he liked his chances. Trying to not get too cocky however the knight would raise into the air, getting the high ground to drop down on the three that were left. They tried to dodge but he dove right into them, body slamming them straight into a knockout.

Stumbling up from the blow he just delivered Cas would fail to notice the grown man charging him. He had a dagger in his hands once more, this time it would stay in his hand biting into Casrare's flesh. With a face like pissed of bronze cupid the knight would stare into his eyes. Grasping the man by his wrists, his plague would carry forth, a green vein crawling up the mans body. In only a matter of moments he would sit there gagging, vomit breaking through before words could form. Desperation clung to his eyes as he fought to breath, in that moment Cas would take the time to speak.

"You know its rather selfish to protect others for your own gain" he would say with a smile, while his prey glared with malevolent desperation. Despite the glares the monologue would continue. "I mean sure you cared for them but if you love others you can't really love yourself the most or you're just hurting them you know. My old king, very similar guy, can't wait to see him again. You can love those you use but you're still using them at the end of the day no matter how well you care for them. Until their interest becomes your own well you're leading wrong, but it seems you've already went down the wrong path. Its' okay, I won't let your road ruin their choices. I think its time they made their own."

His words held a venom to them beyond his sweet voice, he was young but the pain he felt was starting to grip his soul. Someone could only be controlled for so long. While the bandit chief would cry and crawl away in pain the young devil would walk over to him, using his sandals to turn over the sickly man. Slowly but surely he would sit on the mans chest, he would deliver two quick blows to the sternum to weaken him. He was beaten, both immobilized and hurt it wasn't enough. He would press harder with his weight, gripping the neck of the foe beneath him. Casrare would apply all his might, a soft whimper would echo out of the cave and finally silence.

It would take awhile for him to deliver them all, first he'd need to wait for the storm to die down. While waiting each of the captures would be tied up, except for the deceased. In the morning he'd take them back and get what he deserved, for now he'd get some shut eye.

Wordcount: 2,500+/1,000
Stamina: 140/170

Moves and trait used: