B.C (Before Cities)

Chapter 2: Freedom

A knock on the door makes our conversation come to a stop. Ron opens the door to greet the guest, and looks to see another stranger at his door. A middle aged man with a deep scar across his sunken, thin face. The clothes he wears are of good quality, with darker tones and puffy sleeves. He looks distressed, fiddling with his hands as his eyes dart around behind Ron.

"Is he here? Is that BeefCake fella here"? He says with urgency. He grabs at the door frame with his scarred hands like he's trying to force himself past the farmer to look for me himself.

"I have been looking for a champion to help me"! The man exclaimed exuberantly, unknowingly praising me as I sat out of view of the door behind Ron. "I heard of his great feat of strength and had to see him. Could I talk to him for a moment"?

The farmer agrees and gives me a silent gesture to continue this business outside. He looks hesitant to let this man into his home, which is understandable due to his persistence to see me. I meet with the man outside as Ron shuts the door behind me. I introduce myself as friendly as I know how, trying my best to live up to the title of a hero. I puff out my chest and rest my hands on my hips, as if I was posing to be made into a statue. "Hello! It is I that you are looking for! What is it that you need"?

The scarred man doesn't seem as excited anymore, and looks at me with obvious doubt. From his expression I can gleam that he expected someone else to walk out of the cottage in my place. "This must be a trick". The man said with a scowl. "I thought I would be meeting BeefCake, not some scrawny farm boy".

I can't help but be flustered by his statement. Sure, I didn't look like much of a hero. I didn't appear clad in armor and weapons that could show that I meant business. But I was sure my actions could speak for themselves. "No, really! I am BeefCake."

The scarred man doesn't look convinced, but he decides to hear me out. "Prove it." he says.
I take a step forward and pick up a small stone. "I can throw this rock pretty far, would that make you believe me?"
The scarred man looks unimpressed. "That doesn't prove anything. Anyone can throw a rock."

I rack my brain for anything that would prove my identity to this man. I think back to the stories the farmer told me about other heroes, and one in particular stands out. "I once heard of a man who lifted a boulder twice his size over his head and threw it a great distance. I think I could do something like that."
The scarred man's eyes narrow. "You think you could do that?"
"I'm pretty sure." I reply.
The scarred man looks around the clearing and spots a large boulder. "Alright then, let's see it."

I walk over to the boulder and try to lift it, but it's too heavy. I grunt and strain, but I can't seem to even budge it.
The scarred man laughs. "I knew you were full of shit. You're not the guy I'm looking for."
My temper flares. He doesn't believe me? Of course I'm not going to give up that easily. I try lifting it again, and this time I manage to budge the boulder a few inches. I keep trying, and with each bit of effort, I can feel the boulder getting lighter. Finally, in one swift motion I heave the boulder over my head and throw it across the clearing.

The scarred man's jaw drops. "That... that was impressive."
I dust off my hands. "See? I told you so."
The man looks nervous. His passive aggressive behavior from before has fleeted and he now stares at his feet, not meeting my eyes as he speaks. "My name is Luke and ... I need your help. My granddaughter was captured by a group of Green Hat Bandits four days ago for ransom. My son is a coward, we're without much money to pay the guard, and I'm not in the best shape to go get her back myself... could I hire you for what little money we have to rescue her"?
I nod. "I'll do it."