NEPETA: Yes! You remempurred. It’s been a while. JOHN: Yeah, uh… actually I don’t know how long it’s been. NEPETA: What are you doing around here, John? JOHN: You know, the usual. Looking for jobs that won’t kick my ass and bumping into big guys who are probably made of steel. EQUIUS: … I assure you that I am not. NEPETA: Heehee! So did you find anything? JOHN: Augh, no. I had my eye on one but it got swiped before I could take it. EQUIUS: A shame, but such is the way things work. You must exercise initiative in order to advance. NEPETA: We got a job flyer right here. We’re not really in it for the money, so maybe you could help us out? JOHN: Whoa, really? NEPETA: Yeah, sure! EQUIUS: Nepeta, why must you always make these offers without consulting me… NEPETA: Oh hush, you. The more the merrier, right? JOHN: I guess… Hey—
John catches a glimpse of the job flyer in question, releasing his nose as he leans to take a closer look.
Oh well. If the only doable job is gone, then there’s no point in staying in this town. Might as well move on to the next and hope that 1) he can make it there without needing to fork over any gella and 2) there will be doable jobs once there.
… Although Filgaia was victorious, the war had taken its toll on the land. The flames and blades of war scorched and rent the earth.
Greenery withered and died. Bodies of water turned to sand. Wildlife marched down the path of extinction, little by little - only the toughest survive, leaving the world’s ecosystem with nothing but savage, ruthless monsters and harsh, rough sand.
As though the casualties of the war had not been enough, the battle had also been the signature on the planet’s death warrant. The planet continues to deteriorate, even a thousand years later, with nothing to stop it…
The planet’s various inhabitants enjoyed peace, prosperity, and the earth’s bounty for what seemed like eternity. With a thriving and diverse ecosystem, and the Guardians’ blessings, Filgaia was a heavenly place.
Since the beginning of the season, Gobs have begun raiding my family’s storehouse for supplies and threatening our safety. Their demands continue to increase over time and now they have made their base in the storehouse, and have claimed to be aiming for my family’s generations-old mansion next. For the safety of my family, please, someone drive those Gobs away. I apologize in advance for the lackluster reward but with the recent happenings this is all I can spare.
REWARD: 5,000 GELLA
JOHN: …That’s the job I had my eye on! The one with the Gobs!