Stuck in the Mudge

A group surrounded a brahmin, laying different bundles of hay around the beast. In the middle of the group was a tall figure, he was dressed in a hooded robe. The others in the group were dressed in tribal gear like that of the other groups in the wasteland were known to dress in. The man in the hooded robe began to speak to the brahmin: "Noble sister brahmin, may your wisdom lead us further into the light. May you graze upon these crops we offer you. We will await your words, await your guidance. We are your children, your students."

The others bowed their heads as the man spoke. The man speaking was Father Mudge, a priest of brahmin worship. One of the senior members in the town of Fairfield Farms. It was a place that stood out in the Willamette region, a deeply religious place who's inhabitants specialized in agriculture. Mudge raised both his hands up to the beaming morning sun. "May all your brothers and sisters who are lost at the hands of others be reborn in the spirit world. May the spirits bless us and bless you sister brahmin." As he continued to deliver his words there was a sudden approaching marching sound. The sound of strangers entering town. Father Mudge paused and turned, there stood members of the mercenary company Jophiel PMC. The brahmin priest had been expecting their arrival.

The most grizzled member of the group was their leader Tanner Wallace, sealed safely in a modified piece of power armour. "Father, it's good to see you again." Wallace spoke, clenching a cigar between his teeth. "My boys are hungry, I'd appreciate any food you have for us."

A worshipper approached Mudge. "Father, who are these people?"

"That does not concern you my child, do not worry," Mudge whispered. The priest walked over to Tanner, the others could sense there was some history between the two. "Tanner Wallace - I'm afraid our harvest is not ready yet. We have no food to share with your men, I'm sorry."

"Mudge... Mudge... Mudge, you don't want to let an old friend down. There's really nothing you can share with us?"

"Like I said Mr. Wallace, our harvest is not yet ready. I recommend you to continue onto another community. Perhaps Renne, Woodburn even?"

"Well I guess if the harvest isn't ready we have no other choice, but we'll be back at some point. Just to make sure you're doing alright." Tanner finished up his cigar and dropped it, crushing it under foot into the soil of Fairfield Farms. "We'll be on our way. It was mighty nice seeing you again Mudge, mighty fine."

The mercenaries of Jophiel walked away. The worshippers watched as Mudge fell to his knees to dig the cigar from the mud. There was an expression of sadness on his face, like nothing they had seen before. "We must protect our sacred Earth, let nothing spoil it, keep it pure." Quickly the worshippers recognized that the Father was back to his usual ways. They listened closely as he rambled, the speculations on their unexpected visitors quickly faded away. Their eyes remain locked on one pair of the brahmin's lips as Mudge fed it a few strands of hay.