Chris eventually stepped outside. He needed to see what he was actually working with if the old man's words about the place were true.
The little village—if it could even be called that—was nothing more than a handful of massive boulders carved into crude homes, each fitted with thin, flimsy-looking doors. The sky was pale blue with thin, stretched-out wisps of clouds that offered no real protection from the sun. The ground was a miserable mix of hardened earth, stone, and powdery dust that could hardly be called sand. And all of it felt blisteringly hot from hours of relentless heat beating down on it. In the distance, cliffs jutted from the land, scattered and distorted slightly through the rising haze.
"This is the Barrens, lad. Water only comes from those lucky enough to have some when they're abandoned… or whenever we're blessed with rain. Our food is from beasts we are fortunate enough to hunt or those passing by might have and are willing to spare." The old man's voice carried a quiet sadness. "It's a tragic thing, really. According to legend—the few that haven't been forgotten—this place was once an oasis of unity. I can only imagine how amazing it was; what I would give to have been around at that time just to see it." He finished almost longingly.
Chris let out a quiet, frustrated breath, grumbling slightly too low for the old man to hear. "This is really not fair. It's hell mode. And how am I supposed to grow plants in a place like this? Damn sadistic god…"
Turning back to the old man, he spoke a bit louder. "I… well, I think I'm stuck here like you said, even if I could leave with someone, I have no knowledge or even identity. So, I might as well make the most of it, and gamble my fate here." He said, the old man surprising him with how pensive he seemed to look. "Could you show me what supplies we have? Maybe I can do something to at least make things more comfortable for us once I know what I'm working with."
The old man laughed at that after being broken from his pensive state. It wasn't mocking but rather full of a dry amusement. "Sure. With how old I'm getting, having someone take over my role as caretaker of this place had to happen eventually, and if you're going to stay, it means that mantle will probably fall to you. You seem smart enough for it and are already talking about settling in, and you listen, which is more than the others who tried."
The old man commented happily in thought as they walked into the hut beside the one Chris woke up in. The door on this one looked much sturdier and visibly reinforced with thicker planks littered with deep gashes. The old man even had to put visible effort into pushing it open, though Chris suspected it was because of his age more than resistance from the door itself.
Inside he saw racks of dried meat hanging from hooks. A few shelves that held worn clothes, all folded into neat stacks in one corner. In the other sat a large round pot, half-filled with water with a half-broken shelf leaning awkwardly against the wall beside it that held a few rusted weapons and a bow snapped clean through its middle.
"This is the storeroom," the old man said before adding, half sarcastically and half self-deprecatingly, "In all its glory."
"They expect us to survive out here like this?" Chris couldn't help but ask.
Another laugh came from the old man, this one bitter though with clear hints of anger.
"No, lad, no one expects us to survive. As I told you already, we are sent here to die or just for our empires to be rid of us. The only reason I'm even still alive to this day is a mix of luck and whatever grace the gods felt like sparing. Charity from others dumped here before me, mixed with whatever gets left behind by those I try to help. Things they couldn't carry or called junk. The random beasts have also been a good help sometimes. Kill one and you can keep some of its meat."
Chris studied him. "But you didn't move on early on. Why did you stay if everyone supposedly leaves?"
"I stayed because I couldn't leave," the old man replied. "I had very little food and even less water. No proper weapon either, mind you. If I tried to cross the Barrens like so many others did, I'd end up as food for the beasts before I knew what was happening. And unlike others, I accept my banishment and burden, instead trying to help others who pass through without joining them." Something seemed to flicker across his gaze as he looked at the distance. "I just try to make it easier for others since I know no one else would." He added softly at the end, looking at Chris with a small, sad smile before he walked over and gently rested a hand on the broken bow, clear notes of exhaustion and regret. It was as if he was already gone emotionally and spiritually, but his body hadn't quite caught up with it just yet.
"So I became a caretaker of sorts. Helping the living who end up here… and laying the dead to rest when I can reach them before the beasts from the dungeon do."
Chris stiffened. "Dungeon? You didn't say anything about a dungeon before."
"Oh? Yes. It rests between those cliffs." He gestured toward the hazy shapes in the distance. "There's an unregulated dungeon nestled there somewhere. Sometimes I'm fortunate an adventurer or soldier ends up being dumped here. They kill a few beasts that wander out, and in exchange for water and shelter, they give me the beast to clean and dry. Often they take all that they can carry, and I keep the rest here." He continued with a shrug, but the strained smile told Chris there was a lot left unsaid.
"That feels like something important you should've mentioned earlier."
"Bah, the beasts are manageable once you know how to avoid them and appease the bigger ones," the old man said casually. "You collect the bodies of the weak ones who die from hunger, the heat, or you manage to kill after they wander in, and then feed what you can't use to the bigger, nastier ones so they leave you alone. Sometimes I have to scatter bits of dry meat far from the village to draw away the small ones who get too close or bait them to the bigger ones. But it's something you get used to, and why most who didn't listen didn't make it..." There was bitterness at the end mixed with frustration that showed Chris he really had been trying and it would be best to listen to this old man.
He turned toward the door. "I will try to teach you everything eventually since you said you would stay, but for now I'm going to take a small nap. These old bones don't handle the heat like they used to, and I didn't rest much through the night since I watched over you. But feel free to explore around for yourself. Just don't wander too far, and should you decide to leave, at least tell me first so I don't end up wandering into danger trying to find you." Again his tone hinted at frustration and hints of anger.
"I… yeah. I think I'll just look around the area and won't wander too far out." Chris eventually managed to say as he tried to figure out what he could do, but a small idea had already begun taking root.