The Unsuspecting Goatherd

“Bapho, how many times do we have to do this. You are not a thief. You are the son of a goatherd and there is no other path for you other than tending to the herd. I need you, they need you.” Bapho’s father said.

“That is not the life I want! You spend your days feeding mindless drones, you constantly risk your life fighting off predators, and on top of it all you reek of goat shit! How can you expect someone to want to do this? How can you expect your own son to want to do this!?!” Bapho retorted.

“...” Bapho’s father stood there, silent.

“I’m done. I can’t stay here and continue to answer the same questions. It isn’t fair to either of us. Goodbye dad.”

“Goodbye son.”

On the evening that he left Bapho gathered a few things for the road one of those being his goat horned helmet - a piece of armor given to young warriors of goatherding families. It was a normal helmet if you ignore its birth from ritual - which Bapho definitely did. It was just another helmet to him, but the best he had so he took it.

Bapho left his home on the outskirts of The Sand, heading towards Chonomancer’s Riviera where he heard of wizards and warriors throwing extravagant parties and riches beyond the imagination of a country youth.

When he was avoiding his duties as a goatherd, Bapho had picked up some skills as a grifter and pick pocket - conning travelers into giving him coin or stealing from those who set up camp to rest off the beaten path.

Since leaving home Bapho found himself deep in the BattleMage Mountains and in dire need of supplies. He spotted a small group of yellow hatted wizards heading towards the Riviera with a Pack Slar carrying what he could only imagine being delicacies meant for the parties of wizards.

“Damnit I’m so hungry I swear I’d eat goat feed right now.”

As the wizards passed his hiding place, Bapho took out his bow & took aim at a stone in the middle of the road alongside where the pack slar was walking. Just as the slar passed the rock he let an arrow sing.

Clang!!!

The arrow struck the rock & startled the slar, causing the beast to recoil and fling open one of the covered baskets secured to its torso. The road was strewn with apples, grapes, cheese, bread, and countless other delicious items. Perfectly timed with the arrow strike Bapho hurried to grab whatever he could and sprinted towards the treeline and dove behind a bush for cover.

He sat there for a few moments as he heard the wizards try & calm the slar down as they shuffled around picking up their goods.

“I can’t believe that worked... I heard yellow wizards like to party but that’s no excuse to become so inept.”

Bapho opened his arms to look at his bounty... but nothing was in them.

“What?”

Bapho blinked and he was standing in the road again, bow drawn with his arrow, aiming for the rock in the road.

“Huh? Didn’t this already happen?” he thought to himself.

He then noticed that he was aiming at the rock next to the slar, but the wizards were gone.

At that moment he felt a pain sharper than the tip of a Night Razor in his back and collapsed to the ground. He looked up and though his vision was blurred from intense pain he made out 3 yellow wizard hats standing over him.

“Silly warrior. If you wanted some bread you could have just begged for it. But we’re past that now. If you actually managed to steal our goods you would have ruined our party... and that my friend is a cardinal sin.” one of the wizards remarked.

“Do we just leave him here? If we do he might try this again and succeed - there are future festivities at stake here! If he ruined a good time because we let him go I wouldn’t be able to live with myself!” proclaimed another wizard.

“Yeah no way, he’s coming with us. The Chronomancer prison cells would gladly welcome another opportunist in their midst. Eden, can you levitate him to the pack slaAAAAAGGHGHHHH!!!”

Thud.

Still lying on the ground, Bapho heard a bone cracking thump and saw the talking wizard get sent flying across the road and slam into a tree.

Another wizard started to mutter an incantation but before he could finish a purple blur leapt straight over Bapho and took out the wizard’s legs knocking him onto the ground right next to him.

“Fucking goats!!!” the third wizard yelled as a ball of magic sparkling like a hundred fireworks screamed through the air towards one of the mysterious creatures. Just as the devastating spell was approaching the creature it lowered its head and instead of disintegrating its target, the spell slid off its horns like water over rocks. Through the smoke trail left by the fireball came a goat charging, the ground shaking with every stomp of its hooves. Not a second later it reached the powerless wizard and effortlessly launched the her clear out of sight.

“What the hell is happening...” Bapho mumbled right before his eyes closed and everything went dark.

...

“Where am I? And what is that smell and damp sour air? Is this the quantum shadow? Am I de...”

SLURP

Bapho’s face was assaulted by a damp, rough tongue that gave his sweaty head a few licks. The damp sour air was a number of the creatures breathing over him, inspecting him...

He sat up to realize he had been dragged into the woods & was surrounded by a herd of giant purple goats.

“Holy Arcanist...”

They were magnificent. They were at least two times the size of a normal goat with horns that were intricately twisted, all in unique ways. Their posture was protection incarnate, perfectly on alert yet relaxed, ready for whatever was going to come. As Bapho regained consciousness they took a few steps back, giving him some room to come to his senses.

“Goats of all things... really? Did you save me? Why?” Bapho shook his head chuckling at both the irony and the shooting pain still lingering in his back.

One of the goats, almost as if it understood him, walked towards him and lowered its head, touching the horns of his helmet with its own.

Bapho was stunned. The words his father spoke the day he left rang loud in his mind.

I need you, they need you.

The goat lingered over the helm and all of the sudden the horns of the goat started to glow an iridescent purple. The glow then started to creep onto the horns of the helmet until they were the same exact color.

Bapho reached for the helmet and could even from a distance feel an intense, protective aura coming from the enchanted armor.

“Thank you... I don’t deserve this.”

The goat closest to Bapho turned around & began to walk away and the others followed. As the last goat was entering the brush near the clearing it turned around to look at Bapho. He stared back expecting the goat to continue on, but it stayed.

“HHmmmmmphhh” remarked the goat.

After a few awkward moments the goat made a loud exhale almost indicating that it intended for Bapho to come along.

“Uhhh.. you want me to come along?”

Bapho grabbed his helmet and his bow which the goats must have also salvaged and hobbled over to the goat. He took a few steps into the brush and found the rest of the goats there all with their heads turned back, waiting for him as well.

Entered by: 0x47a8…2384 and preserved on chain (see transaction)