Looking for purpose

In-character discussions, stories, prose and poetry.

Looking for purpose

Postby Flameforge » Tue Mar 15, 2005 5:50 pm

Looking for purpose

Randal Fukuda woke with a start, finding himself face-down in a pile of fetid, days-old garbage. Bright morning light crept between the tall buildings which framed the alley. "Another sunny day in lovely Tir," he thought, rolling his eyes.

A vehicle sped past, stirring up clouds of dust and debris. Randal spat a mouthful. He moved to roll himself off the junk, sharp pangs in his back and ribs a painful reminder of the last night's events. "Why do I do this to myself?" he grimmaced, making another attempt to pick himself up. Nursing his trobbing wounds, Randal staggered out of the back alley into the street warren of downtown Tir.

He could ask himself why each day was the same, but the answer was all too clear. Morning after morning the same painful results of a night of drinking and bar fights; a self-destructive flagellation for past wrongs, a hope to batter away emotional weights and memories of his failings. For several months he had lost himself in the urban sprawl of the city, hiding from himself and others. "For all my strength I can not confront myself. What have I become? Without purpose."

Shaking his head, he took refuge from the suns beneath a shade awning. He watched the bustling crowds for a short while then reached into his pocket for the small eletronic pad to check disinterestedly on the current news. When he powered the screen it was not news which caught his attention, however. There was a message. From someone in his clan.

A scream and a body slamming into him suddenly interrupted his reading. Randal stumbled against a wall, blinked and quickly assessed the situation. A slim man--an opifex--had been thrown to the ground next to him, a group of three, armed solitus swiftly emerging from the crowd and bore down on him. Randal recognised from their jackets they were members of a local gang. You'd have to be in the wrong state of mind to mess with these people, but for whatever reason this opifex was on the receiving end.

"You fraggin' opi," one of the gang thugs spat. "We warned you to get your fraggin' excuse for a store out of our district." The opifex cowered, eyes wide, as the thug pulled back his fist to strike. Randal's own hand instinctively shot out, grabbing tightly the thug's wrist, preventing the blow at the last moment. The thug turned and it dawned on Randal what he had started.

Yet another fight. No, this time it was different. This time it was not selfish. Like battles past where he used his abilities for the protection of allies.

The moment of realisation did not last long as the thug's free fist slammed into Randal's gut. He staggered back, wincing. The three gang members arranged in an arc, stalking forward. This was going to be a quick end for him, unless...

Randal forced himself to calm, drawing upon energies and experience learned from the Shadowlands. His body began to glow with a soft aura, just as one of the thugs plunged forward with a knife. The blade sunk into the aura, stopping short of its target's chest. Randal grabbed the guy's arm and flung him against the street's stone wall with a crunch. The second thug made an attack which Randal narrowly evaded while spotting an opening in the thug's defense. The uppercut to the thug's jaw sent her flying backward to crash into the ground.

The force of a blow to his back threw Randal to the deck too, the aura fortunately absorbing any damage. He deftly swung his legs around, toppling the remaining gang member. Randal cracked a fist across the guy's face, knocking him out.

The opifex was startled, looking as though he was not comprehending this fortunate turn of events. Randal took the opi's arm and hauled them both to their feet. "You'd better get outta here. I suggest you keep out of that gang's way in future..."

The man stared at Randal blankly for a moment, then softened into a faint smile. "Thank you," he whispered simply, turned and ran off into the crowd.

Randal watched him go, then hurried off in the opposite direction, making his own escape. "It felt good. It felt good to help again." As he made his way along the streets he pulled out the eletronic pad again for the message he had intended to read earlier.

Where are you? It's been ages. You've still got friends here, you know. You'd be welcome back.


Friends. A guild. Yes, and perhaps the opportunities to fight and protect for, and with, those friends again.

And perhaps... a chance for redemption.
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