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The Sacred Land - Bucket

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#1Bucket 

The Sacred Land - Bucket Empty Thu Sep 29, 2022 3:13 am

Bucket
Sometimes, a neutral, unattached hand is necessary to solve the problems caused by others such as them, where those that have stakes in it simply cannot step in. Sacred lands are one such touchy subject, lands where violence is simply not accepted by those who consider them sacred, leaving them incapable of properly chasing off those who would ignore this ‘sacred’ notion and exploit it as they please: untouched lands, ripe for the taking, the mining, the cutting, everything and anything an enterprising man with loose morals could ever dream of. For those cases, yes indeed, one who cares even less about sacred matters fits the bill perfectly for an ‘enforcer’ of what sacred and untouchable truly means.

Why not, then, the giant, muscled hobo that's been hanging around Luluhawa, then? Sure, it might be a weird choice but, considering his recent display at a local tournament, the choice wasn’t all that terrible: a spooky visage, very capable of violence and dismissive of all matters religious. He was the perfect fit for what a young Shaman Iolana was looking for.

The information was brief and concise after a stern warning from the cursed man who, in his own words, “had no patience for religious folk”. Businessmen had trespassed into sacred lands without permission and were looking to do whatever they pleased in it. She wanted him to drive them off and make an example out of them, dead or alive. Do so and he gets paid very handsomely. Simple, concise and attractive enough to allow Bucket to help out someone religious. Besides, the opportunity of desecrating sacred lands with the blood of people that their gods consider impure sinners was just too attractive for a heathen such as he.

291 Words.

#2Bucket 

The Sacred Land - Bucket Empty Thu Sep 29, 2022 3:32 am

Bucket
The trip to Kahu rock was mostly uneventful, all things considered. Though he continued to abhor the sea as always, the fact that Kahu just wasn’t that far from the mainland (or what you can call Luluhawa’s main island) and that at this point, while partially submerged, a tall and bulky man such as him could still walk on it, he endured. Oh yes, he endured the disgusting feeling of the ocean as he walked the underwater trail towards Kahu rock, rage building up inside him towards the businessmen whose activities led to him going through this. Perhaps he should be angry at the shaman. He remembered that the shaman is the one paying him, so at least he’s getting compensated for his misery. Those businessmen were just acting like absolute minges, causing trouble for everyone and, worst of all, to him. He hates religion, he hates gods. That much is obvious. He also hates those who would abuse religion for their own greedy gains, making themselves even worse, akin to the demons that exploit humanity. That meant he also wanted them to suffer. The only question here would be just in what ways would they make them suffer.

And - ah - there it is. He’s at Kahu rock, most incredible! Seems like his internal rage and swirling thoughts that often keep him trapped in his own mind have worked to help him forget his fear and disgust of the ocean! How convenient and totally random, yes indeed! Now he was free to unleash hell on the ones who would put him in this situation to begin with. Finding them wouldn’t be difficult either: businessmen like those like their comfort so finding their camp was easy: beach side, under some shade.

No one was here, yet, so he decided to sit down at THEIR camp and take a break. Lighting up the fire with their firewood, drying his clothes, eating their stocked up food, looking over possessions that they didn’t take with them. Nothing interesting and no weapons, sadly. Didn’t need to use them, sure, but it would be nice to at least have weapons he could use and not have to dirty his fists with their ugly faces. Life ain’t always fun. Whatever.

381 Words.

#3Bucket 

The Sacred Land - Bucket Empty Thu Sep 29, 2022 3:41 am

Bucket
Suddenly, he heard some male voices yelling out in surprise, then yell out questions and threats. Bucket, who had fallen asleep during his wait, woke up to a sunset and a group of stupidly-dressed businessmen looking at him from a distance, demanding to know who he was. Slowly standing up to tower over them, Bucket focused instead on first putting on his clothes, making sure that they had properly dried up before he spoke.

“Greetings, gentlemen! My name is Bucket and on the orders of some shaman whose name I don’t care to remember, you lads have to die. I will take no questions, I will take no bargaining and I’d appreciate it if you'd lay down and die.” He said with a casual and cheery tone, much like one talks about what they ate for breakfast or like how one would tell their family about that awesome vacation they’re going to go on next week. Even as some of the more cowardly ones screamed and turned for the woods while others charged him, Bucket’s demeanor did not change: after all.. they’re just business bros. Weak. Frail. Easy pickings.
Fists flew. His big, weathered fists that would easily sink into their frail skulls, going in through their brittle nose, breaking the bone around the nasal cavity and into their cranium. The first died easily. The second soon followed suit. Three, four. After the second one, the others who had chosen to fight were too shaken up to act properly.

The ones that ran were somehow easier: when someone’s in a state of panic, they often do various mistakes, a lot of them related to their balance. After all, frantically running, focused on only moving their legs as fast as possible without the attention that one usually would give to their surroundings is a recipe for disaster. They’d fall, they’d stumble or slow down and, eventually, the madman reached them, killed them and moved on. It took but a few minutes before they died, having no proper bodyguards to save their lives.

Dirty deed done, he’d take extra care to set up their mangled bodies upon the shore, laid out to the ground and set on fire. With their personal possessions and identification, Bucket would make the agonizing trek through the sea once again, reach the Shaman, show the proof and take his prize. Wonderful. More money to the bank.

413 Words. 1085/1000 Words.

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