Snippet #1118557

"Have faith, boyo... For the time of your reckoning is at hand, and from here to Fiddler's Green, you shall forever rest in my heart and soul. Until I die, of course. Then we're both screwed, eh?" The cracked hands held the Blacksmithing hammer tight in their grip. It had been some time before Faolan even heard another living creature's cry or call. Now he stood over the cowering, cornered rat-like creature with a crazed expression about his face. the hammer swung swiftly and ended the creature's life by way of crushed skull. It was a meagre meal, but if Faolan was to survive, something else needed to die. It had always worked that way, and so it was.

"Perhaps, if the stories are true, I'll change all that. When I find whatever power is at the source of these feckin' bells... Maybe then I'll find some way to magic food from air, like one of those... What-are-they-called's... Alchemists. Yeah. Them." The evening wind swept through the patches of dried grass and craggy rocks like a ghost. Leaving barely a trace of it's passing save the gentle sway and lean of the taller grass stalks. The Irishman sat back against the inside of the night's chosen cave and made the most of his pathetic meal. The next morning would bring nothing but more bleak sky, craggy rocks, dead lands, and empty ruins. He knew this, but what else could he do? He had already tried ignoring the call once and it ended up with his being dumped on a Sanctuary. The only thing left to do now was slog forward. So he would curl up in a ball, shed a few tears for the fallen, and fall asleep in his temporary domicile.

The light of the sun shone harshly through the bleak clouds that hung like vultures in the grey sky. Faolan made ready to move under the tireless gaze of that single, glowing point that blotted out the millions upon billions of others that would otherwise shine in the sky. The greedy sun blotted out their own light to shine the brightest. Running it's harsh, cruel regime of forced will upon their dust ball of a planet for millions of years.

"Maybe I'll fix that, too... Damned sun." Faolan mumbled to himself as he hopped over a small chasm. It was still early in the morning, and the last thing any sane person would expect to find would be another city, "There it is though..." he mumbled his thoughts aloud. Immediately dropping to a crouch and moving cautiously, he peeked over a low, poor excuse for a bush. Slowly his hammer made it's way into his right hand, still covered in dried blood from last night's meal. He held it toward the tool's head, to off-balance it and made it easier to move with. There was definitely some kind of recent activity in there. He could pick out spots where barrels burned with refuse, and windows were freshly boarded up. He wasn't much one for socialization back home, but out for so long with no contact whatsoever he was rather starved for it. That isn't to say he was dumb enough to go leaping into the city with arms thrown high shouting at people for attention. It did, however seep poisonous, dangerous thoughts of hope that he could find converastion down there. Company to spend the night with and people to interact with outside of sword, stick, or fist. Such fleeting hopes could get him into serious trouble, possibly killed. But he allowed them for now. no sense depriving yourself of some hope every now and again...

At least that was what he reasoned with himself as he made his way down the rocky slope toward the ruined city.