HOW DO YOU STOP THIS THING?! [Invite/Oboe]

The day had been peaceful. Oros Village had just brought it a sizable harvest and as such the Market was ablaze with activity. Farmers, families and priests alike all had gathered here for the chance to purchase some of the fresh food for themselves. The hamlet had increased in popularity since being declared “New Grand Elder Village”, a side effect of the Villages Elder having been promoted to the position of Guru. It was this Namekian whom now was walking up the long hill towards the very rear of the village – closest to the cavern etched deep within the horseshoe shaped plateau that surrounded their village offering a natural defense. In his arms were a few bags of the desired produce, having been graciously allowed to the front of the line simply due to his station.

It was nice of them to let me go first…but they surely didn’t need to. I’m not sure I’m liking this reverence thing. Perhaps I should remind them that we’re all family here in this village.

Striding with his mind in the clouds, Oboe – Guru of Namek – trekked his way towards his home, eager to get cooking. He contemplated what he’d do after his meal; Perhaps he’d meditate? Or maybe he’d go for a walk. All the options available to him were wonderful as he enjoyed this simple day with happiness in his stride. How quickly things we enjoy can come crashing down all around us. As the former Sage of Oros neared his home, a loud high-pitched screeching sound emanated from the skies above causing the sensitive hearing of his Namekian ears to elicit intense pain to his person. Doubling over, Oboe was nary prepared for what happened next.

The sonic shockwave of impact threw the Namekian, and his Groceries, backwards about ten feet with great force. Rolling around aimlessly in the dirt, Oboe shot a quick glance upward and saw with horror as his home – the home he grew up in his entire life, shared with his father and spent the better part of his time as a Sage within – was gone. Tears welled in the Priests eyes as one of the few material possessions that was truly his, vanished in a quick burst of smoke and flames. Rising to his feet, a tinge of anger in his step, Oboe stormed towards the center of the crater that now made up where he had used to live. Why were all these villagers just falling anywhere they wanted! Namek HAD a Space Port on the Outskirts of Moori Village. The common misconception that his people were just peaceful savages had clearly gone out of control.

Without warning a door came flying towards the Sage, slamming into his body with a heavy THUD. Yelping with pain, the Sage fell – once again – to the dust; Vision a bit blurry from the impact, Oboe groggily – once again – returned to his feet. Stumbling towards the edge of the Crater, angered and in pain, the Namekian called out to what he saw standing in the center of the smoke. What looked like a Humanoid, tail waving in the wind, seemed to be the epicenter of the destruction to his childhood home. With a voice that held more anger than he’d ever spoken with before, the Guru of Namek called out to the traveler with tremendous authority in his tone. It surprised even he how much intensity he was able to put into this declaration of disappointment.

“Why?! Why my home?! Could you not find your way to Moori Capital? Was your ship broken? Did you not know what you were doing?! Why is my House Destroyed!?!”. Oboe fell to a knee, heartbroken at the sight of his home in pieces. Gazing up, a sight caught his gaze and with great hope the Sage stumbled into the crater and over to an opposite end. Digging into the dirt, Oboe found – mostly in tact – his Father’s ancient seat of power. Thankfully, by some miracle, the impact had thrown it from the home but the force merely embedded it into the dirt as it was cushioned by the sonic boom. Sighing with relief, Oboe returned his attention to the new arrival.

“WHO are you? Why do you come here?” It wasn’t that Namekian’s weren’t friendly. It’s not that they weren’t forgiving. But with the wound so fresh and the damage so great – it wasn’t unlikely that the owner of said home would be entirely angry. 

He wanted to stay angry. He wanted to embrace his rage and yell at this young lady for being so haphazard with her travels. He wanted to tell her that she shouldn’t have flown a ship without any lessons on how to pilot it…but then, if he did that, he’d be a hypocrite and worse, he’d be neglecting all the lessons he’d taught for years to young, aspiring Hatchlings. With a heavy sigh, he continued to listen to her apologize and explain herself further. She spoke of her inability to really control her vessel and that she’d come here seeking guidance, training maybe, in how to control her powers; whatever the case was, Oboe found himself exhaling and inhaling slowly as he calmed himself.

After a moment, Oboe reached his hand out to his left – arm fully outstretched – as if trying to grip something that wasn’t there. Quietly he remained in this position until, without warning, a staff with a large orange stone headpiece appeared magically into his waiting grip. Placing his weight on the newly manifested object, the Namekian would stand and once again turn and regard the female that had destroyed the home of his father.

She looked humanoid, though the tail flailing around her had made her seem Saiyan. Reaching out with his senses, trying to gain an understanding of what she meant by “Control her power”, Oboe felt a malicious and dark force of energy emanating from this female’s lithe athletic frame. Curious, as he’d never met any Saiyan before with such dark and sinister energy radiating outward. Yet, judging by her demeanor, the young lady herself didn’t seem to hold the same values her energy did. Even more curious!

As she finished speaking, Oboe would hold a hand up as if to silence her. He’d heard quite enough, but though her intentions were indeed of pure nature and design, he couldn’t just let go of the fact that his home of nearly eighteen years – one of the oldest structures in his village - was suddenly gone. It was in this thought, Oboe thought of a suitable punishment and rectification to the event that had just unfolded. As if that wasn’t bad enough, the rest of the village had finally begun to make their way over to the massive crater where his home had been.

“I can understand your plight child. Truly. A power untamed is bound to harm those one cares about. Nevertheless! You did destroy my home…an act that does not come easily fixed with platitudes and apologies. So!” Oboe would pause as he stepped towards the young lady, his body language and energy both calm and soothing – dispelling any thoughts that violence may erupt simply by how calming his presence became.

“I’ll make a deal with you. You, in a way to make up for your action, will help me repair my home. If you promise to do this, I’ll ensure that not only will one of our Dragon Caste Magi help teach you the control you desire…but that the one who will show you the way will be none other than the leader of our people; Guru. How does this tickle your fancy off worlder? Do we have a deal?”

In a showing of understanding of outside cultures – specifically Saiyans and Earthlings – The Namekian offered an extended hand for her to shake; a nonverbal contract that would seal the deal should she accept it. Clearing his throat and cocking his head to the side, Oboe would continue; “Unless…this was not your desire and every word you uttered had been simply designed to excuse your actions. What say you child?”