Information

Badru has a minion!

Ratty the Rexx

Badru
Legacy Name: Badru

The

Cream Terracoon
Owner:

Lisa

Age: 12 years, 9 months, 1 week

Born: July 24th, 2011

Adopted: 3 years, 7 months, 1 week ago

Adopted: September 21st, 2020

Nominate Pet for Spotlight

Statistics

Level: 27
Strength: 61
Defense: 16
Speed: 17
Health: 15
HP: 15/15
Intelligence: 74
Books Read: 56
Food Eaten: 1
Job: Stylist

It was a hot, bust day in the Sacred Lands' souk. Vendors were hawking their wares, shoppers were haggling, and it was a general cacophony of barely organized chaos. The small, sand-colored terracoon adjusted the ragged scarf around his neck and looked back at his friends - they nodded. It was time for him to prove his usefulness to the gang he'd so recently joined. As an orphan, thrown to the madness of the streets, it was that or starve. Badru narrowed his eyes and watched the customer currently at the jewelry vendor. He darted up when the woman looked away, but before he could get to the tables, an archan pushing a cart was in front of him, in his path. He didn't have time to stop and terracoon, archan, and cart collided, the cart's cargo of pottery flying through the air and crashing to the ground, breaking everywhere.

Badru's eyes slowly opened and he shook his head to clear his vision. "What...what happened? Guys?"

His gang was nowhere to be seen. Who was there was the archan, his glowering stare turning to rage when he realized the idiot child was awake. "Idiot! Stupid child! Do you know what you've done?! How many hours of work you've thoughtlessly ruined?! Darting about in the market like a stupid little ****! How dare you? How are you going to pay for this, you little ****?!"

Badru was shaking at the man's verbal rampage. He looked around again for his supposed friends, but they were long gone. So much for strength in numbers. "I'm sorry. I...I didn't mean to..."

"Oh, you didn't mean to, well! That makes it all better then, doesn't it! EXCEPT ALL OF MY **** POTS ARE STILL BROKEN ALL OVER THE **** SOUK FLOOR AREN'T THEY?!" He thundered angrily, shaking both huge fists at the cowering boy.

A tall woman strode up to the pair and put her hand on the angry man's shoulder. "Now Garrin, look at the poor little thing. He doesn't have a coin to his name. Don't yell so."

She crouched down to Badru's level and helped him to stand, brushing off his fur. She asked his name. "And Badru, where is it you live? Are your parents home?"

"I ain't got parents, miss. It was just me and...well, no one now." He shrugged. "I sleep over by the healer's."

"An orphan then?" She patted his head at Badru's nod. "Now, Garrin, didn't you need help around your shop? Cleaning up all that pottery dust? The rock bits from your carvings? This boy could sleep in the back of your shop and clean up around the place, for room and board. That way, you wouldn't have to pay anyone to help out and Badru here could work off the pottery that got ruined today."

Garrin huffed and looked down at Badru. "He doesn't look like he can handle much work...but I do need the help and I don't want to pay someone. Boy? It's either this or you can pay me back for all the pots you ruined! Do you have the money?"

"N-no, sir...I have...just this..." He pulled a single copper from his pocket. Although he was afraid of the man, cleaning up the shop for a place to sleep and something to eat didn't seem bad - not as bad as the streets had proven anyways. "I'll clean your shop. I'll do a good job. I won't be any trouble, I promise."

"Alright, fine. You can start by cleaning up the shards from the pots here and putting them in the cart. Then you can take the cart to my shop on the western edge of the souk. You'll see the smoke coming from the kilns out front. Think you can manage that?"

Badru agreed and an hour later, he had pulled the heavy cart to the potter's and unloaded the ruined pots where the archan told him. Over the next few weeks, Badru had proven himself to be a real help in cleaning the messy pottery workshop. Even Garrin was pleased. He even gave the boy a half day one afternoon when the shop looked especially well. It was the first free time the boy had had in the weeks he'd been there. He found himself wandering the small shop and grounds until he came upon a pit of raw clay. He sat and started messing around with a small pile of it. He was in awe of the potter's skills. He wasn't only a potter, although he made amazing pottery. He also formed beautiful sculptures that looked almost real, out of different types of stone. As he was thinking about all he'd seen the man make, he was forming the clay in his hands. Without thinking, he'd begun to make a small archan, one that looked very like his new master. He kept working on the details, using sticks to carve the finer features with.

"There you are! What are you doing..." Badru started at the sound of the voice. "What have you got there...oh. That looks like...it looks like me."

"I'm sorry, sir! I didn't mean anything by it. I just sat and picked up the clay and I was just..." Badru was scared. He had begun to really like it here and he was afraid now he'd messed up.

But the archan didn't yell at him. He carefully took the little carving from the boy's hands and looked back and forth between it and him. It was surprisingly good for someone with no training. "Have you sculpted clay before, boy? This is...this is good for someone with no training."

Badru was surprised. "No, sir. I ain't had no training in anything. I just...I seen what you do and, well...it's amazing, really. I wanted to try."

Garrin looked at the boy for a moment, eyes narrowed slightly. He nodded, making up his mind. "Truth is, boy, this is exactly how I started, sitting by my father's clay pit, making random little sculptures until he noticed I had a knack for it. You seem to have that same knack. You've done a passable job cleaning up around here and I can see you have a good work ethic. How would you feel about an apprenticeship?"

Badru accepted, barely believing his luck, and from that moment on, he began learning all he could from his master. He took to the art quickly and soon began bringing in customers of his own. He saw his former supposed friends a few times on market days - they wouldn't meet his eyes, but he couldn't even bring himself to care. He had a new life now, and a good one at that. An orphan street rat with an apprenticeship to one of the most important crafts in the city. It was really something and he was going to hold on to it.

writing and overlay by

Lisa, background from ClipDealer, broken pot from HIclipart