To Return Home

By JamesAT13<infobox>

 <title source="title1">
   <default>To Return Home</default>
 </title>
 <image source="image1">

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Act 1: Nexus Tower

Posted on 4-24-15

Part One

Stirling Silverstine, Rank 3 Samurai, Space Ranger, and Knight, with valiants for the foremost and latest, tromped through the Nexus Tower hallways. He was 'fresh' off the battlefield of Crux Prime, on his way to answering a summons from his Commanding Officer or C.O. for short. Stirling wondered why he specifically had been called away from the field of battle. He and other Sentinel forces had been leading a campaign to set up another base near Butterscorch's lair, to help support other adventurers in that area, and also to observe strong Imagination readings across Rivendark Canyon. And that was important work, so what could be more important, to have his C.O. pull him away so suddenly?

Not that he was worried. He had not violated anything at all recently, he had answered all his check-ins, he even had a particularly good stromling smashing record going for this month so far.

"No, I don't believe I have anything to worry about. At least from me. If anything, it's probably from something outside me, outside of my hands, that had him send for me. " He thought. "Still, set your expectations low, prepare for the worst, and you can only rise up from there."

As he turned into the Sentinel area, and opened a discreet side door that had a plaque on it reading 'Major Maguffin' he fully expected to walk out having lost his rank, title, gear, and job, for some lousy reason or another.

~                                  ~                                ~

15 minutes later, a extremely put-out and annoyed Stirling emerged, quickly swinging the door around, but stopping it just short of slamming it, then slowly and exasperatedly closing it the last inch, before walking off to the elevator, to see about lunch in the cafeteria a few levels below. As he walked away, three words echoed angrily in his mind:

"Mandatory shore leave."

                           ~                                  ~                                ~                               

Part Two

". . . For THREE WEEKS!" Exclaimed Stirling, to his best friend, Peragrine, as they stood in the cafeteria line. "That's a whole month! What am I going to do for such a ridiculously long time?!" declared Stirling as the cafeteria bot splatted some mashed potatoes on his outstretched plate. "Thank you. Peragrine, what do you do on your shore leave?"

"Oh, well, lot's of stuff!" Exclaimed Peragrine, a rank 3 Daredevil, Buccaneer, and Adventurer, with the valiants for the first two. "I visit my uncle, I join the pirate crew in gnarled forest, I go racing in big tournaments wherever they have 'em, why, one time, I got advanced lessons on being a truuuee ninja, from Master Fong Shader. . .--"

"Ok, Ok. Let me rephrase this. What should I do on my shore leave???"

"Oh! Well, you should visit your parents. You're lucky enough to still have your pair."

Stirling was taken aback. What a simple, thought-provoking, and practical Idea, from such a impractical, ,  simple-minded, and not very deep thinking  source. All the more so, because Peragrine was an orphan. 

"Hmm! Good Idea, Perry."

"Thanks!" replied Peragrine, and he bit into his big Sub sandwich. "Now, you'll just need a Pilot." he hinted, giving Stirling a wily eye. . .

"Hey! you're not on shore leave too!. . . Are you?"

" Funny that you ask that. . . I don't have 3 whole weeks, like you do, but I do have about three whole days or so. Enough to take you wherever you need to go and back."

"Weeeeell, I suppose you would be cheaper than some official taxi service or something. . ."

"Of course! Free! Except. . . Maybe a bit for gas? It's terribly expensive these days."

"The only factor is. . . Will I survive the trip then?"

"Hey!"

"Kidding! . . . But not really."

"Awesome!" whooped Perry, and he bit another monster bite out of his Sub. "So where are we going?"

" Miltiregnum."

Part Three

"Miiiiltiiireeegnnnummm" Drawled Peragrine, as Stirling leaned away from him in deep confusion and worry. "Hmm. Sounds OLD."

"It... is." replied a slightly disturbed Stirling. " It's a planet stuck in medieval times. No electricity functions on it's surface, thanks to a vehement wizard who, along with many others, saw Imagination Electricity as a dangerous power, not for mortals, or something like that. They didn't agree with it, bottom line. So, this wizard, cast a very powerful spell across the land, that caused Electricity to simply not work, one way or another. The best way it's been explained to me was--and I know this sounds ludicrous-- like invisible energy vampires in the air." 

Peragrine raised his eyebrows. "Awesome. That guy must have been a powerful wizard."

"The Wizard, who's name I've forgotten, was actually a bad guy. He did his fair share of cruelty, and plundering, and oppression, but many pardoned him in his later years, for that service rendered to the land as a whole. Getting rid of the "abominable power" known as Electricity. Plus, he was very reclusive thereafter, and never really went out or bothered anyone. Many are the whispers that he's grown old and bedridden early form such a large and widespread enchantment. . . I wonder if he's still around."

"You don't know???"

"I'm afraid not. I haven't been keeping up with what's been happening back home in Morcia. Mail pigeons are just SO VERY unreliable! Last I knew, it was under attack, but that is the same as anywhere. No place is safe. Not even here." Stirling looked at another table, where a rank 1 Sentinel Knight was arguing loudly with a rank 1 Paradox Shinobi. Stirling sighed, and stood up to leave; he was done with his food. 

"But it's your home!" continued Peragrine, as he wrapped up the other half of his sandwich to go, and licked off his fingers.

"Exactly. I know the people there. They are tougher than me, because they're the ones who taught and trained me, in my younger years."

Part Four

Stirling walk out of the cafeteria with Peragrine behind him, just as the Rank 1 Sentinel and Paradox Recruits began to trade blows.

"My family is safe, I am certain of that." said Stirling, continuing their conversation, as they walked to the elevator. "My father was home, last I knew."

"Which was?" asked Peragrine pointedly.

Stirling's shoulders slumped as he realized how very long ago it had been since he had seen his father. He sighed. "A long while ag- none of your business!" he said, and shoved Peragrine good-naturedly.  They laughed.

"Now, are you going to get me there or not?" interrogated Stirling amusingly.

"It's a sure thing,  Stir!" laughed Perry.

"Hey, don't make me a verb." Stirling said in a mock-serious tone.

"Aye aye, Mr. Silver!"

That's my Dad."

"Okie Day, Strider!" 

"Does it look like I'm wearing Leather???"

"Ahh....no. Why do you ask?"

"Please, just use my given name?" Stirling pleaded sarcastically.

"Sterling?"

"With an 'I' instead of an 'E'"

"Right."

"Thank you!" Stirling said, as the two stepped into the elevator"

"Sure, No prob, Stir!" Peragrine said absentmindedly, as he pressed one of the floor buttons.

"AAUUUUGHHH!!!" wailed Stirling in exasperation, as the elevator doors closed.

              ~                 ~              ~               

Part Five

After Perry had given him the idea, Stirling  just couldn't get it out of his head. Seeing as his shore leave was effective immediately, he decided to go A.S.A.P.  He was in his dorm room in Nexus Tower, grabbing his luggage from the top of his closet.

"Really, you would have thought he would tell me sooner!" Stirling half thought, half muttered to himself. "Effective immediately, since I've been 'avoiding it'?  Why, I don't  remember the last time Major Maguffin told me about it! When? When did I 'avoid' talking about Shore Leave?" he asked himself. His forced his mind to recall any times he had allowed such a conversation to slip by Once. Twice... Three times..."Oh. Well, I suppose I have been dodging it." Stirling admitted to himself. "Well, no more. I'm taking it now. Now that I don't have a choice." He thought sarcastically. 

He plopped his duffel bag down on the bed, and began absentmindedly packing a few essentials, and as a habit, he started to put in his Nexus force Sentinel Gear.

'Wait. Half of this stuff won't even work on Militregnum." thought Stirling, as he looked at his already half-full bag

He slowly re-sorted it, being conscious of any Electrically powered items. That means his space ranger kit was way out. That would stay here, in the Nexus Tower vault. That, along with anything else electric was thrown to the Nexus Tower Vault, where it would be kept safe from magical deactivation, destruction, or fizzlement. He kept his Samurai and Knight kits, because,

1) everyone he could think of would want to see them. And,

2) they were 'mostly' non-electrical. Mostly, anyway.

Little did Stirling know that the Evil Wizard had been dead, smashed by tehdude so that he may introduce higher technology to his domain, for many years now.

He might have packed differently. . .

                                           ~                   ~                     ~

~~~~~~End Act One.

Act 2: The Blockade

Posted on 5-12-15

Part One

They were approaching Militregnum now, in a tiny little decommissioned Nexus Force shuttle that Perry had mysteriously acquired and renamed "Cosmic Brownie" instead of its old name: "NF shuttle #27654". Perry hadn't gotten a chance to renovate it yet, but it was comfy, and roomy, albeit a bit clunky and worn. A loose panel here, a stain there, a dozen light bulbs out in various places. . .

Who are we kidding; it was as close to derelict as you can get, while still being functional, and flyable.

Perry was piloting of course, and Stirling was in back, vacantly staring at a map of Morcia, just thinking. It had been a long time since he had left.

Stirling's homeland, according to this highly esteemed map that he was looking at, was on the southeast corner of what was labeled as the 'Scary Mountains'. Stirling's family was most notable for their mines. Most of them were silver mines, thus their surname, but there were other varieties of metals to be found; copper, iron, gold, lead, marble, and more. The Scary Mountains were not without their rewards for those who could brave them.

And the Silverstine family did.

Part Two

He was the 3rd of 4 children of Lord Harrison and Lady Eleanor. His siblings were Peter, Austin, (then himself) and Emily, in that order. Emily has always acted like a wise older sister to Stirling who has somehow gotten to be the unspoken baby of the family. The two older brothers were always off doing something or another, and while they were kind to him, and loved him to bits, they oftentimes unwittingly treated him as a lovable 3rd wheel. This lead Stirling to become closer to his younger sister than his two older brothers, which was not necessarily a bad thing.

Their parents, Lord Harrison and Lady Eleanor were the owners of many mining camps throughout the southeast portion of the Scary Mountains. They were fair stewards of their mines, kind always, and stern when need be. 

Stern when they uncovered a corrupt overseer turned slavedriver, kind when they found the corrupt overseer's workers in desperate need of rest, though the mine is weeks behind schedule because of the corrupt man. 

Stern when a malicious criminal was brought in to perform community service, in the mines as part of his sentence, and then kind when the same criminal repented of his ways, but wished to stay and continue his honest hard work in the same mines. 

Stirling remembered a certain criminal who was downright despicable when he was brought in, though what he was being brought in for had escaped his memory after all these years, to be used for community service in the mines, and remembered asking his father why he wasn't just getting hanged for his crimes, if he's really a bad guy and had truly committed all those distasteful deeds?

Part Three

He recalled his father's answer: "Well son, what defines evil, or bad?"

". . . The Law?"

"Well, who makes the Law?"

"People. The King. His advisors?"

"And do you think that's right?"

". . . Yes? They are smart."

"So then, whatever they say is right is right?"

"N-no...?"

"No?" Lord Harrison, looked at 8 year old Stirling with an amused twinkle in his eye hiding behind a serious gaze.

"No. No!" said Stirling more convincingly. "Because if they made a bad law, like... like... Capital Punishment, where if someone steals an apple, they get their head chopped off, then... Then that's not right, and we couldn't stand for it! Right?

"Correct."

"Just because they say that the sky is green, it doesn't make it so! The sky is blue, or grey, but not because anyone says so!"

"That is right. You see, we cannot declare what is wrong or right. We are only minifigures. The King, his advisors, and any other fancy-pants you can think of, will always eventually fail. They are only minifigures. As am I, as are you. I will fail you one day. You will fail me one day."

"Oh. Hmm." Stirling had become downcast.

"But take heart! You know the One whom will never fail you. He knows right from wrong." reminded Harrison.

"That's right!"

"He alone can tell whether this criminal that passed us by is beyond saving. He alone can read hearts. It is not up to us to be judge and jury. It is up to us to give him a second chance. Compassion, yes?"

"Mmm-hmm."

"How many times must we forgive?"

"Seventy times seven?"

"That's right. Which is?"

"Umm... Seven hundred seventy?"

Harrison laughed hard and would have gone long, but he was quickly shushed, because the laugh echoed deeply in the quarry.

That same criminal had become a true master of explosives in 3 weeks. When Stirling left to join the call to save Imagination, that same man was headmaster trainer of the explosive arts, traveling between all the mines, teaching others all he had learned, where to place, how to keep it safe, how to collapse, or NOT collapse tunnels, safely.

~                               ~                               ~

Part-eth 4-eth

A jolt went through the shuttle, awakening Stirling from his reverie. The jolt was followed by muttering from the cockpit.

"Stirling!!! You MAY WANT TO SEE THIS!" Cried Perry from the cockpit.

Stirling got up leisurely, and sighed. "Meaning its either really bad, or completely drop dead boring." He thought.

Stirling walked into the cockpit and looked out the window.

A Nexus Force blockade met his view. More importantly, they blocked his way to Militeregnum, which was visible right behind them.

Just then, the communicator crackled to life. 

And as Perry fumbled with the receiver, Strider fine tuned the transmission with two crusty knobs.

"This is prodigiously old. Tiresome. This thing belongs in a museum., its so blasted old!" Stirling announced grouchily.

"Hello? HE-LLO! HELLO! Peragrine hollered into the handset, once he had a firm grip on the thing.

"--eat, identify yours--- immediately, or we will open fire!" The radio stated.

"Not necessary!" Cried Peragrine.

"Hold your fire!" Ordered Stirling.

"And your horses!" Added Peragrine.

"What?!??" Sputtered Stirling, looking sideways at Perry. But before Perry could explain his logic for mentioning equines in space, the voice on the radio replied.

"Friend or foe? Unidentified Nexus Force shuttle, PLEASE identify!" it said exasperatedly.

"Roger-roger, blockade, this is Captain Peragrine Wanderthistle, piloting Cosmic Brownie, a dereli- I mean- decommissioned Nexus Force shuttle that I have aquirr- purchased! Before you ask, my business is my own, but if you must know, I am dropping off a passenger by the name of Stirling Silverstine to the surface. His business is his own." Rambled Peragrine over the radio, with his feet on the dashboard, as Stirling facepalmed at his friends inflated ego and loose speech.

Part-eth 5-eth

"Well, that passenger better not be a civvie, because its bad down th- did you say 'Silverstine' was his last name?"

"Ah,uh. . . "

"Not at all related to the noble family of miners of the same name, I hope?"

Peragrine looked at Stirling, who's face was like stone.

"Er, well. . .Ye-es?" Replied Peragrine weakly. Somehow, he knew that tone of voice held nothing good for his friend.

"He is?" The voice replied tiredly. "Well then you better get him on the line. I have bad news for him."

Peragrine meekly put the receiver into Stirling's outstretched hand and quietly motioned if he should leave. Stirling shook his head, so he stayed.

Stirling spoke into the receiver in a deadpan tone.

"This is Stirling Silverstine, son of Harrison Silverstine, Son of Sir Harris, conqueror of the Scary Mountain's heart. Tell me, why do you blockade Militeregnum? "

"I hate to give bad news to you, sir, so I'll spit it out and just be done with it. Your father's dead, sir."

". . . "

"Went out well enough though. Was defending the rest of your family. Where they are now, we don't know, and we only know what I told you because his murderer, tehdude, boasted about it to the public over television as part of his officially taking over the Silverstine mines. . . Sir? Are you still there?"

"Oh yeah! He's still here!" Peragrine leaned over to speak into the receiver in Stirling's taunt grip; "But see here, I thought there was some spell on the land to stop anything electrical to run?"

"Oh no. Not anymore. When tehdude came onto the throne, he had that old sorcerer who was sustaining it executed, so that he didn't have to rely on froofy unreliable messenger pigeons. But instead get email. Not to mention cable TV. Really popular with night shift guards."

Part Six

"Who" growled Stirling, "is this usurper they call 'tedude'?"

"Only the most powerful enemy this planets ever seen! And perhaps one of the top twenty that the Nexus Force have ever faced! If not top ten! Where have you been for the past few months?!"

"The battlefront. Or what I thought was the battlefront. It appears I'm just getting started. Permission to land?"

"No! No one is allowed through! Permission denied! You don't even know a thing!"

"I know enough. More importantly, I've heard ENOUGH." Stirling scoffed at the radio, and hung up. He looked at Peragrine and nodded. "My family is in danger, and I'm getting to the surface, even if I have to SKYDIV--"

"PERMISSION GRANTED!!!" Whooped Perry as he jammed the thrusters to full, even as the blockade began charging ion guns to disable the small shuttle.

Stirling had a mild heart attack, as he put all his trust in his maniacally laughing green clad pilot friend, and his derelict shell of a shuttle, running a massive blockade with the latest and greatest technology in space combat to date. The only thing that kept him from screaming like a little girl was the fact that he had just done the impossible: he had defied a direct order. ''But I've defied orders before, when they were stupid or ill-advised, so why's this any different?'' Thought Stirling to himself.

"YEEEEE-HAWWWW!!!" exclaimed Perry, as he barrel-rolled by a frigate bridge.

Stirling realized something then, concerning his friend and said, "Perry, I'm sorry to get you into this trouble on my behalf. This is my issue, and I'm on shore leave, so I can't get in as much trouble as you might. You might lose some standing, or rank or something, running this blockade. I don't want you to get hurt, physically or socially on my behalf, or especially for my family's behalf." Thinking quickly, Stirling added, "In fact, if you want, I'll back you up on a story of me wresting control of the shuttle from you, as we passed the blockade, if you want."

Part Seven

Peragrine had been only half-listening, but as the fighters dropped off one by one behind him, as he entered the atmosphere, Peragrine laughed, and wagged a finger at Stirling.

"Oh no you don't! I want FULL CREDIT for running that blockade! That was. . . Awesome."

Stirling sighed. "Not exactly what I would describe that as. Unless you mean 'awesome' as in the fact that were still alive."

"Oh, yeah, that's awesome too." Peragrine agreed, as he knocked on the instrument panel. "Huh. That's odd. This says we have low fuel. But we were fine a minute ago. Must be defective. I'll write that on the list for renovations."

Stirling's eyes went wide. "A minute ago? Like before were were shot at???"

"Um...yeah! Why?"

The shuttle shuddered, sputtered, quacked and rattled as the fuel gauge  plummeted to drop dead zero.

"Our tank must have been hit!!!" Exclaimed Stirling. Then he smacked his head; "Of course! They would have aimed to maim, not smash!"

"Oooouh. Riiiight!" Mused Peragrine. "Hmm. That makes my blockade running feat sound less epic though. It sounds much better if I escaped a bunch of people bent on my total destruction than escaping form a bunch of people bent on my total capt-"

"Perry! Were plummeting!!!"" Cried Stirling, amid the sudden outburst of beeping, whistling, and sirens coming from the dashboard.

"Oh! Right. Where's the reserve fuel on this thing?" Peragrine hmm-ed and haa-ed as he looked at the panel in from of him. "Ah here it is!" Peragrine slammed a red button with a thumbnail picture of a old gas can.

In response, the fuel gauge began to twitch upward, and Perry leveled out the shuttle and looked for a good landing strip just as the ship began to sputter, shudder, quack and rattle again! Stirling stole a peek at the fuel gauge; "We're empty again!!! It must have gone right out the same hole the rest of it did!!! " observed Stirling sorrowfully.

Part Eight

"That's OK! See that group of fields there? I'm making that my makeshift runway!" declared a hyped-up Peragrine. "And that last bit of fuel has given me enough 'oomph' to get past these trees in front of it!"

"Makeshift runway, pfhh! WERE CRASH LANDING!!!" Stirling snapped, barely holding back the harsh addition of 'you harebrained idiot' in his throat. The pressure of his supposedly peaceful shore leave homecoming gone wrong was getting to him, but he would not insult his loyal compatriot.

"I know, right? Isn't it EXCITING?!" hollered Peragrine over the  coming from the dashboard. This was followed by an explosion of screeching metal, huge clods of dirt, and multiple-bone-jarring backlashes.

They had landed.

                              ~                               ~                               ~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~^^^^^End Act 2.

Act 3: The Richardsons

Posted on 9-9-15

Part One

Stirling opened his eyes, then quickly shut them, as grit invaded his eyeballs. Relying on his other senses he heard Peragrine's contented (or was it relieved?) chuckling off to his left, smelled tortured metal and upturned soil, tasted dust and debris in the air, and felt like every plastic bone in his body was pulverized. But, he told himself calmly, that was an impossibility, because he'd be dead if that was the case. As it was... thank the Most High for seatbelts...

Stirling risked another eye full of dirt, and saw that the dust had relatively settled, and that Peragrine was still chuckling, and now looking at him.

"Oh look. This model DOES have ejector seats!" Said Peragrine, motioning to a big red level on the side of Stirling's chair.

Before Stirling could stop him, Perry had pulled on the lever, sending Stirling on a short round trip flight of 10 feet up and 2 or so feet right, due to the flailing of the angry passenger. Peragrine, pulling his own big, red lever, followed suit, but flailed to the left to avoid landing on Stirling.

The two travelers met in the front of the wreck.

"At this rate, I won't survive much longer!" Said a beat up, dusty and bruised Stirling.

"Well, at any rate, you're here! We made it!" Peragrine motioned grandly and announced, Welcome to... to... um what--"

"Milteregnum." reminded Stirling, stretching, and checking his range of motion.

"Milterregnum! Wonder of wonders, home to the forever sword wielder, the valiant knight, the lowly peasant, and all things medieval and lordly and Castle themed! Whoosta!"

Stirling sighed and looked around. What luck. Peragrine had actually done a pretty good job of landing them away from any obstacles. There was that small forest off to the left, of him, behind the shuttle, which, as he checked his compass, was west. The the north, and south was more field.... east... someone was approaching them! 

Part Two

Stirling became aware of Peragrine conversing with himself.

"...totaled. Hm. What a shame. *sniff* I felt a connection... as if we had much farther to go...? But no, she's grounded. . Alas! Cosmic Brownie! You will live on in my deepest memori-"

"Perry, quit yammering. Find your blade. Actually, your flare guns might work just as well. We have company." Whispered Stirling advisedly as he unsheathed his knights broadsword.

 Peragrine followed Stirling's gaze and saw a older minifig with a pitchfork and a old wooden crossbow, strung and loaded, walking unhurriedly towards them from a field of corn a good few yards away. As the minifig's long stride brought him closer, Peragrine noted the odd clothing he had. He had overall jeans that were patched up a lot on the knees, and he had on a shirt underneath that looked as if it had possibly once been a tan and orange plaid shirt, but was so workworn and repeatedly patched that it was more of a browned-out rainbow. 

Peragrine, mildly flustered, Looked within his inventory, and pulled out the first weapon hilt he felt--

AHA! " he cried, as he brandished a spike hammer at the stranger, who stopped short, 10 or so feet away.

While Perry had been looking at the clothes, Stirling had been looking at the more permanent features of the mini figure.

  Uncut hair, full grizzled beard, brown eyes, older fellow, perhaps in his 50s-60s, but still strong, due to a lot of good honest work, according to his bent back and shoulders, and the easy way he held the clunky crossbow with just his left hand, and his sense of purposefulness and skill in which he held the pitchfork in his right. The minifig eyed Perry and the hammer thoughtfully. Stirling could see the stranger's mind at work, through his eyes: He was assessing Peragrine. apparently, Perry was not a threat, for, a moment later, the stranger's eyes turned to Stirling, and both saw that the other was assessing the other's assessment. Well. Now this was awkward.

Part Three

"Greetings, visitors. what might yee be doing in my west fields? In a flying metal egg no less? You know you've made a real mess o' my seedlings?!" And with this statement he executed a quick flip of his pitchfork, sticking the sharp end into the dirt.

  "Er. ahhh... um.... hm!" Muttered Peragrine. He lowered the hammer, and screwed his eyes up in perplexity. Surprisingly, no easy quip came to mind.

Stirling saved him. "Good sir, we do apologize. Our crash landing in your field of seedlings was unintentional, and we would most certainly wish to make it up to you, in any way we can, but for me time presses, and I cannot linger long. I am on a desperate business, of which I will like to keep to myself."

The farmer seemed pleased by these courteous words, and responded in like kind.

 "Then you mean me and my own no harm? Good. Lower your weapons, and I will lower mine."

Both sides did so. Perry tucked his hammer back in his pack, Stirling sheathed his sword, and the farmer let his crossbow hand drop.

 "I will have no discourtesy on my homestead. Please, tell me your names, and are there more of you in that metal egg of yours?"

"Nope! Just the two of us," piped up Peragrine.

"Good sir, this gentlefig is Peragrine Wanderthistle, of...the Nexus Force. A good friend, and my pilot."

"Pleased to meet you sir.....?" Peragrine trailed off for lack of information.

"Richardson."

" ...Richardson!" Finished Peragrine with gusto, shaking hands with the farmer vigorously. Then Peragrine's face crinkled. "My! You have...quite the grip."

Stirling laughed. The farmer grinned apologetically.

"And your name is...?" The farmer addressed Stirling.

"Strider." Stirling said curtly.

"But you're not wearing leather!" Joked Peragrine, then received a quick elbow jab to the ribs which he did not take discretely. "Who-ga! Ow." He said, massaging his ribs.

Part Four

Needless to say, this elicited suspicion from the farmer, who further inquired by asking Stirling, "And the last name, young man?"

"I am afraid that knowledge would give you more grief than we have already caused for you."

"I will still have it. It cannot be worse than what is happening daily in Morcia now, and I will NOT tolerate discourtesies on my land. So long as you are not welcome with tehdude," Here the farmer *spat*, and Stirling bristled at the name, which he knew so frustratingly little about; "you are welcome by me. . ." The minifigure's face contorted into rage as he said, "He took my boys!"

"Oh come now! Stirling, this guy is one of the good guys! We can trust him!"

"Peragrine, you blabbermouth! It is not him I distrust."

"Oh! ...me--?!"

"No! We have made a spectacular scene, thanks to your...-interesting- landing skills... there could be any number of spies about. ESPECIALLY if tech is in the game now."

Stirling tuned to the farmer, who had stepped back, watching the two, but focusing on Stirling with... what strange emotion was that? Anger? Fear? Hope? Uncertainty? All of the above, and more?

"Stirling...eh? Perhaps you'll come and join me and my wife and daughter for supper, and we will see what can be done for damages rendered. And if you are indeed Stirling, of the Silverstine clan and he" motioning at Perry "has ties to the Nexus Force, you two will want to hear what I have to say."

He motioned with his head to the cornfield, or perhaps beyond it, and started walking that way.

"Certainly, Mr.Richardson." Said Stirling.

"Mmm! Dinner! Do they have cake in medieval times?" Mused Perry.

I don't believe so, Perry." Said Stirling. "But I have no doubt that we will be having something just as delicious, if not better. But for goodness sakes, be- you- just keep your cool!"

                      ~                      ~                        ~

Part Five

That night, Stirling lay in a nice soft bed, unable to sleep, even though it was 10:59... check that, 11:00...

Too much information was whirling in his head.

Mr. Richardson had started off with introducing Stirling and Peragrine to his wife and daughter, Gertrude Richardson (Mrs Richardson to the visitors), and Bethany Richardson.

Then the 5 of them all helped in setting up the 5 by 8 stud table with all the dished and salads and meat and potatoes and corn cobs and fresh butter and melon medleys and... and pies....

The women took care of the pies...It was to be saved for last.

Though, truth be told, Bethany told Peragrine they were delicious...

Over this feast, the farmer related as best he could, all of the recent events.

•      From the first battle,
•           to the arrival of the mercenaries with heart, the KotOS ,
•                    to the many many skirmishes and wins and losses of their checkered campaign,
• to the crushing final blow at the Skyfalls...

From here, the Farmer rambled off a quick list of "renovations" that tehdude had made to Morcia as a whole, since his rise to power, such as

• allowing electricity,
• expanding his domain,
• deep delving into the Scary Mountains for strange new metals,
• consolidating farmlands    ("Only a matter of time before he comes for this neck of the woods.")
• Hunting down rebels,
• instituting a school system,
• a farm system,
• a curfew system,
• a census system,
• a whatever system,
• a 'complaint' system (they either feed you lies, pay you off, or shut you up any manner of ways...    Some of those being Permanent, if you know what I'm meaning...)
• replacing peoples jobs with BarneyBots...

the conversation went on over dessert, which was the coveted pies.. all the while, the guests would ask questions, make observations, take mental notes, take physical notes... take doodling notes, ...using marmalade... On and on and on and on, into the night...

Part Six

As they were discussing the possible reasons of WHY tehdude had relocated to Mount Scary, and entrenched himself there with walls and battle emplacements, Mrs. Richardson broke in, saying, "My, my, but it is late, and we have given you much too much to think about. Bethany, please show our guests to their rooms; I and my husband will clean this up."

Amidst some scattered outcries against ending the conversation, she stood up and said with a imperious gaze, "There will be more time to yammer on tomorrow, over breakfast. Here now, husband, take the potatoes," and she plonked the heavy bowl into Mr. Richardson's hands, stopping his objections.

That lead to Stirling and Perry being shown to their rooms, which were far too well kept to just be guest rooms. They both had a sneaking suspicion someone was sleeping on the couch... Or armchair, or loft, or other some such unusual location.

"Or perhaps this is the master bedroom," mused Stirling silently. "In which case I am forever grateful to Mr. Richardson. He has been awfully and wonderfully kind to me and Peragrine . . .Now what's the catch?" he added darkly. "That, is for tomorrow," he reasoned with himself. "Tonight, you are best advised to deeply rest, and prepare, and take him at his word that you are safe. If he truly meant harm to you, he would have had plenty of chances over dinner. Instead, he has brought you up to speed on what has happened here in recent months and-"

"THAT'S IT." Stirling breathed in a loud whisper, bolting upright in his excitement of a mystery unraveled with sheer retrospection and brainpower.

Part Seven

"What's it??? Whodonit!?" Perry muttered aloud, pulling a flare gun from the inside of his pillow, and waving it around the room bleary eyed.

"He's grooming me- er, us, for something." Explained Stirling, as he gently disarmed Peragrine, before he shot something.

"Grhooming? You mean...brushing-hesh's here? In the room? Who?"

"Ah. No. Wrong kind of grooming. Mr. Richardson, he's preparing us, shaping us, for something he has in mind. That's why he's been so kind to us. He expects us to do something for him... and I suspect Mrs. Richardson knew his intent, and wanted it to wait till tomorrow... but what is it, and does she agree with him?"

"You losht me at grooming..."

"I'll tell you tomorrow, when you're coherent."

"Thanshkz, -*whump*zzzzzzzzzzz...."

Stirling sat upright for a bit longer, listening to the silence. Then he too, finally found rest.

                   ~                    ~                     ~

Late the next morning, Stirling awoke to busy voices.

"Peragrine, do you hear that? Peragrine?"

Peragrine was gone.

"Well how do you like that? Takes off without me! Doesn't even think to wake me up, leave a note, nothing. Hmf!" groused Stirling. He got up, got dressed, strapped on his Knights Sword and Samurai Bow and headed out.

As soon as he opened the bedroom door, he smelled the coffee. And bacon, Eggs, Maple syrup, Pancakes, Hash Browns, the leftovers of the melon bowl from last night, saved in a small refrigerator, and Peragrine, coming in, with a large container of milk.

Stirling hopped right in, helping set up, and, just like that, breakfast was served. After Mr Richardson blessed the food, they all "dug in".

Naturally, the conversation from last night revived itself, and made for interesting, and lasting, debate. And when everyone had finished their first helping, they had seconds, and later, thirds, so as to not have to break up the lively conversation. Only Mrs. Richardson left to "Take care of the other creatures," -- The farm animals.

Part Eight

"Speaking of tehdude," Stirling began, then everyone *spat*, at the name, and he continued, "I must be off."

There was a silence, which Peragrine took advantage of.

"Well, can I finish these sausages first?"

"You can finish whatever you like. You're not coming."

   "THERE is where you steer wrong, my friend!" Declared Peragrine imperially, spinning his chair around precariously to face Stirling fully. "I am staying! With you!On this planet. Sticking with ah... YOU!" Peragrine wagged a finger; "I knew you'd try to give me the slip! . . . At least, since last night, I did... "

"Gotta hand it to ya, that's pretty fast for you."

"Thank yo-wooouait a minute..! Never mind. Here are the reasons I'm staying:

• ONE!because I want too;
• TWO!because I'm grounded. Crash landing will do that to ya..." Peragrine added sensibly.
• THREE! Because I'm more than likely going to be held up and detained for questioning or some other nonsense like that, at the blockade station, And that will bore the living  DAYLIGHTS outta me!"

"Sitting on a space station, 

           with nothing to do,

                     while they decide if I should

                                        or shouldn't go through, 

                                                                 No, THANK YOU!"

"You must see," said Mr Richardson to Stirling, "you have a friend like no other here. He will have it no other way. Therefore! " he turned around, waving a finger in the air," we have made two packs of provisions, and one updated map, for your adventuring pleasure. Among other useful things such as a humble Farmer's family can provide."

Here he opened a cabinet and showed two lopsided packs of leather, one which had many cooking utensils hanging on various cords, and the other with innumerable pockets, and both of which had all manner of things poking out of them.

Stirling was mildly thunderstruck.  They were not objecting to him leaving. In fact, they had prepared everything. In fact, they wanted him too. . . ?

Part Nine

"Thank you,"said Peragrine, who ribbed Stirling, and accepted the one with many pockets.

"Um, yes. Thank ye kindly. But why? What do you wish for in return? This seems a odd way to treat those who crashed your fields just yesterday."

The man made to speak, but his wife came around the table, and gently but firmly laid hands on the boys.

"Simply this. If the cost of freeing Morcia from the tyranny of *spit* tehdude *spit* *spit* *spit* *spit* , is a over plowed field, I'll gladly pay it.

"Woah, woah, woah," said Stirling, forgetting his eloquence, and waving his hands erratically, "how do you reach that from me just trying to find and secure or possibly save my family? And then maybe liberating the mines that are ours?"

"From the fact that those goals put you at direct opposite the Tyrant's goals. You are seeking to run this boar's hide the wrong way, indirectly or not. Also, if you are wishing to find the truth about your father, tehdude will certainly oppose you."

"But..."

"Here is my last bit of advice to you, good man." Said Mr. Richardson. "Seek out the Knights Of The Olde Speech. I believed I mentioned them last night, did I not? They may be scattered, stretched thin... 'Sort of like butter scraped over too much bread'... doomed, even... Like a corn maze with no way out. . . But they are not disbanded. Not yet. They simply have no center. Like Jello. . . Mmm. Jello. . .

"Dear? Stay on track."

"Ahem, yes. Kotos. No center. They are spread thin all over Morcia. But if you wish to find where you family is hidden, perhaps your search may be shortened by those who have been here longer than you."

"Tell me. Do you believed my father has passed?" 

Part Ten

"I have heard rumors of many bygone folk," said the Farmer. "I hear the King is gone, I hear Sir Talmid is gone, I hear that chivalry is gone, messenger pigeons are obsolete, swords are done away with, magic is lost, dwarves are disappeared. I hear many things. But there is no way to know for sure. Our world is changing. Always changing. They call them seasons..."

"Dear? Are you focusing?"

"Certainly, woman! Um... " Mr Richardson stared out the window, trying to remember where he had left off.

"My father? Smashed or in Pieces?" tipped Stirling.

"Then. . . The only way to know is to find out yourself, I suppose. Seeing is perhaps the only way to believing, for you, most likely. I doubt you wish to believe he is in pieces. And I doubt you will truly believe him safe till you see him safe. One way or another, you will want to find him."

"Well! What are we waiting for?" Piped up Peragrine. "Let's go!"

And so, with certain choice pleasantries and goodbyes and farewells and bewares and good lucks, the guests made their way out.

"I would give you horses, but my honest beasts of burden, Briar, Ricardo, and the others were long in coming from the Battle at the Skyfalls. . ." stated the Farmer.

"Only my Periwinkle is in the stable, and... well, there's two of you. Though she might be a suitable pack horse..." offered Bethany.

"No! Please, your generosity overwhelms, my friends!" Said Stirling, smiling, and feigning staggering weight. "Besides. Packs would make for slow riding. And it has been forever since I've been on a long hike. It will be good for me."

"Very well." conceded Mr. Richardson, as they made their way onto the front porch, and saw the guests onto a path of adventure many miles long. . . . . .

               ~                    ~                       ~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\,,,,,,,,,,,,End Act 3.

Act 4: Journeys

(Part of "The Raid of Calibus Tower", a Union of three stories by FFFFFPlayer, SamLoopLoop, and JamesAT13)

 Chapter I

Part 1

Stirling and Peragrine sat by the campfire, roasting. What was being roasted, depended on the person. Perry was roasting Marshmallows, while Stir was roasting Sausages. It was dark, and the two had traveled quite a ways from the homestead of the Richardsons. Stirling glanced at his pack, the one with all the pots and pans, and saw the map curled up, sticking out of the top.

It was a very detailed, very well loved map. Exactly the sort of heirloom one would get off of a farmer. Many of the inked-in words describing landmarks were indistinguishable, but not all. And even with that handicap, this one was much more detailed than Stirling's previous one.

According to the map, he and Peragrine had landed farther off to the east of Morcia, in what was labeled as "Farmland", and just south of a drawing of some hills. The Farmer's House was in between the Forest to the west, the Road to the east, and the Hills to the north, being more in the top right corner of that imaginary box.

They had struck off for the forest to the west. Peragrine believing that it was because that's just the way that the porch had faced, so that was the way to go, to walk dramatically into the sunrise, and out of sight, but Stirling went that way for the main reason being that all of his questions had trails to answers that began in the west. Also, the more Stirling heard of how thedude was running Morcia, the more he was sure that he didn't want to be acknowledged and put into the public system just yet. And striking off through the forest was a good way to travel covertly.

But now, the light of day had gone, and while Stirling could have marched on, he did not bring a flashlight, or other means of illumination

And even though Peragrine had brought lights, Peragrine was puck-tired because he had brought it, and a few dozen other electrical things... Which all PROBABLY served a purpose...

So, they were forced to rest.

Part 2

Meanwhile, back at the Richardson's, some other visitors knocked heavily on the front door...

"Coming, Coming, please hold a moment," Said Mr. Richardson.

Unfortunately, whomever, or whatever it was did not 'hold a moment,' for very next thing that was heard was the cracking and splintering of the front door.

Mr. Richardson didn't seem phased by this though, as he quickened his pace getting up and walking past the table, he muttered to Bethany and his wife,

"Get to the Stable, take the bow."

Turning the corner, he grabbed his crossbow leaning on the wall, and began yelling, "I say now, quit with the banging, and I'll open the door. Let's be civi-"

He was cut short by the sight of 7 or so Paradox Rogues stepping over the threshold of his doorway.

"What does thedude want?" asked the Farmer, dropping all pretense of propriety, along with his crossbow arm. After all, they had just destroyed the front door that had seen his great-grandfather as a child.

The Rogues stared at him through their blank helmets, fingered their weapons. 4 had the Blaster and Missile Launcher combo, while 2 had the Wormholer. The last was dressed very differently. This one was still not past the threshold, and was squatting down, studying something on the floor of the porch.

Same Paradox colors, black and maroon red, but unlike the beefy, armored up Marauder's, this one seemed more supple. A large billowing rich purple cape with a symbol that Richardson recognized as the Paradox Faction sign was stamped on the back. A Wizard's Hat adorned the Minifigure's head. And in one hand, the person had a large staff that curled at the bottom resembling a dragon's tail, and at the top, into the shape of a dragon's head, with 2 strange menacing glowing purple dots right on the nape of it's neck...

Part 3

The figure muttered something, creating a small glow, then looked off to the setting sun. This seemed to give some sort of confirmation, and he sighed exasperatedly.

Finally, the wizard turned revealing-- a Woman? But not only that, she was CLEARLY not a wizard, but a sorcerer! Correction; Sorceress! At least according to the ghoulish trappings adorning her cloth armor. The chains, the strange runes, and the other more unpleasant items which bespoke of darker magics.

Mr. Richardson suddenly felt very out of his league. Guns, Missiles, Tech... All this he was taking apart, learning about, defending against, growing from...

But magic... His spark failed him. He had no defense against that. Never had. Never would. Magic had been here all his life, but like his father, and his father before him, and from as far back as time goes, there had never been a single magic user in his family. All they had ever done was till the soil, and grow things from the dust of the earth. That was all the "magic" they had ever needed. None of this vileness! None of this corruption! None of this NONSENSE, PLEASE!

"Mister. Richardson." Said the woman, taking a step forward towards the doorway. She smiled pleasantly. "Good. You-"

"I will say it again. What do you want?" voiced the Farmer standing with clenched fist, inside the splinter-ridden entryway.

The Sorceress frowned, her black eyebrows dipping down together, and she raised her free hand towards Richardson, to which he raised his crossbow, causing everyone else to point their weapons at him.

"I am Menaya Kull, and you will tell me all you know of your previous guests!" demanded Miss Kull, The Paradox Sorceress.

~ ~ ~ ~ /\ /\ /\ , , , , , ⚡ ⚡ ⚡ ⚡ ⚡ ⚡

Chapter II “Thieves”

Part 1

Stirling awoke peacefully. The birds of the forest sang, somewhere Peregrine snored, A squirrel chattered, a twig snapped.

Stirling stiffened, but instead of bolting up into an unknown situation, he feigned his sleep, and looked through slitted eyelids.

Two, no, three, no- Lots- of sneaky, stealthy green-clad folk were tip-toeing around the campfire. A lot of them were placing a finger over their lips, silently shushing each other.

"Why of course, I'd love another slice o' your pie, Bethany," said Peragrine in his sleep. He turned over and grabbed one of the infiltrator's marsh-green shoes which looked more like a brownish leather sock. Then he yanked it right off the perpetrator's foot, and shoved it into his mouth greedily.

"Mmmm. Delishwus. Mh. New thwunks. I'rm Frull." He mumbled around the shoe. This elicited suppressed giggles from many of the green stealthers.

The poor one-shoed figure knelt down to try and retrieve his soggy, slobbery shoe, grabbing a end and pulling it off of Perry's face, when suddenly Perry sighed and said, "Ai'm gonging for a wide in Cosbik Bow-nie!" This caused even more suppressed merriment.

The figure was also trying not to laugh, Stirling could tell, because he, or she, was shaking with bottled-up laughs.

Stirling took this chance distraction to get a wider scope of the situation, turning his head, and clearing his eyes for just a moment.

Approximately 15 Green-folk, One has gold highlights on his vest. Probably the leader. He looks to be about mid 30s. He's holding the map. They have basically everything, the two packs, his dufflebag, even his Samurai Bow and Katana, which he had out next to his sleeping bag, in case. And- wait. Did they have Peragrine's Flaregun which he always kept under his pillow?

Part 2

"Aw, thanks, Marbello. You shouldn't have. Come 'ere and lemme give you a man-hug."

Stirling turned back his head, and slitted his eyes again, peeking at Peragrine, who had apparently just given a "Man-Hug" to the poor figure who had just begun to rise with his other shoe in hand.

"Man-hugs? Marbello???" Thought Stirling. "I'll have to remember to ask him about that. As for right now," Stirling realized that he had to think of the right words to say, fast, because the one-shoed figure had just found more loot in this new position. Namely, Peragrine's Flaregun: The last weapon in Perry's and Stirling's possession.

"Bacon? Fire? Brownies? Venture League? Stop? Go? Interesting?No!"

"SQUIRREL!" Stirling screamed, bolting upright, and pointing at the squirrel of his inspiration in the trees above.

"I GOT'EM!!!" howled Peragrine as he pulled out his trusty flaregun with hairtrigger, and began laying down fire upon everything but the 'SQUIRREL'.

Their cover blown, the gold-gilded stealth leader yelled, "DUCK!" in a loud, boisterous voice, following suit.

"WHERE?! I LOVE DUCKS!!!" hollered a still firing Peragrine, who now was shooting absent-mindedly into the trees above.

In the meantime, Stirling had dove for a knot of 4 forest folk carrying his Samurai Gear. He body-tackled one for his Katana and Bow, tripped his 2 friends to gain his Leggings, Chestpiece, and Shoulderpads, and knuckle-sandwiched the last to pocket his Samuraizer and Helm. Now he turned and, utilizing the Nexus Force Technology within the Bow, he fueled it with his Imagination to create and load 3 lazer-fire-arrows in his bow. Ah, the power of imagination.

"Hold it right there! Nobody move, and we can talk this out! Thieves."

Peragrine stopped shooting, just now becoming aware of the situation, and blinking rapidly at his little realization.

Part 3

The forest-folk looked to their leader, on the ground, and to Stirling, standing up, bow strung.

The Leader peeked out from his elbow, saw the situation, and hastily got up, dusting himself off.

"Ahem. What can I do for you, traveller?" he said in a jovial manner.

"You can hand me back my stuff." said Stirling, no-nonsense like.

"Oh. You mean this stuff?" And he pointed to the Backpacks with the map.

"Yeah. For starters. And the map,"

"Oh, well, I don't think I'm able to do that..." started the leader, shifty eyed.

Stirling pulled the bow back to his cheek, aiming.

"But I'll take my chances!" he amended quickly, grabbing the 'Pots and Pans' Pack, and walking over to Stirling.

Stirling relaxed his bow as the man got closer, and reached a hand out to accept the pack, when a single pan fell off of the pack with a clang.

The Leader apologized. "Oh. I'm sorry, I'll get that." He bent down to get it, handing the pack to Stirling, who held it in one hand, and the bow in the other.

The leader grabbed the pan handle, then swung mightily with both hands, upward, directly into Stirling's chin.

Stirling knew no more.

~ ~ ~ ~ /\ /\ /\ , , , , , ⚡ ⚡ ⚡ ⚡ ⚡ ⚡

CHAPTER III "The Merry Band of the Wood (Or, TM-Bot-W)"

Part 1

Pain throbbed through his headpiece.

"Ow."

He was certain that there were fractures.

"Ow."

He opened his eyes. He was in a hut of some kind, lying on a cot, and there was a old lady minifigure in marsh green clothing mixing a crisp smelling poultice on a table on the other side of the hut.

"Is th-Mhnn!" Stirling found talking to be painfully stimulating, as a sensation like a billion needles sinking into his face flowed through his nerves.

"Careful, sonny. It looks like Johnson smacked you a bit too hard on the jaw there. Now don't you be a'worrin', you'll heal, and you'll be able to talk and yammer again soon enough, but first let me bandage that gash. Your chin is a wee bit splintered there, and it needs to be set. You'll be lookin' like a baby in a bonnet, but don't be having anyone laughing at yee-- Just tell 'em you'll give 'em one better, eh? Won't you? Sure you will, I can tell you're a tough type. You've seen a good share o' combat, you have. Know how I can tell? You're recovery time, that's what! Most folks woulda' still be out with a smack the likes o' that! Why, I'll tell you about the time I . . ."

Stirling closed his eyes; drowned out the yammering of the herbalist. He tried to think straight about something other than his immediate pain.

Where was he? Probably some gypsy town, if this lady was anything to judge by.

How did he get here? Well, this was probably the residency of those thieves he had met.

Why did they bring him here? Hmm. Perhaps they were honest thieves. Perhaps this 'Johnson' the lady was talking about hadn't meant to hit so hard.

Part 2

"... So I tell's him, 'Another stunt like that, and you'll be a few pieces short of a torso!' and that put him straight. He didn't do no more trapeze walking over the ravine. There! I must say, you did very fine, holding so still. Very fine! Do you want a lolly?" the Herbalist asked, proffering a basket full of lollipops. "These sugary new confections from the Capitol are simply the Bee's Knees with all the kiddos! And me too!" Here she nabbed one for herself, ripped off the wrapper, and stuck it sideways, gung-ho style in her mouth.

Stirling could only stare dumbly at the modern candy in these medieval surroundings. He lifted his eyes to the old woman, in askance.

"Oh! of course! Silly me, you can't talk. Why would you want to suck on this then? Oh, if Shubert could see me now... Oh dear..." She set the basket down, next to a-- A TELESCOPE?!

"WH-uurrrrnnnnnm." Stirling moaned.

"Oh, oh my, I do crack myself up. Well, dearie, you are all set. I'm off to see the next emergency. You can get up whenever you like! Tootle-pip." she said over her shoulder, leaving.

Stirling waited a moment, then got up quickly into a sitting position on the edge of the cot, grunting with the onset of new needle-like pains.

"Mrr-RGH."

He looked around the Hut. It was obviously the resident healer's house. There were all sorts of instruments, both Modern, medieval, industrial, and many in between. There was a normal collection of drying herbs and spices, but right next to that was a Stethoscope! and next to that was a jar of leeches... but next to that was a jar of tongue depressors... But next to that were Needles and syringes! But next to those were latex gloves and face masks...?! But next to that was a mortar and pestle?!? And over there in the corner were plastic containers of pills and syrups!!!! There was even a sort of drill thingy. Stirling shuddered: He knew it was what they called a trephine. A tool used to drill holes in the skulls of supposedly crazy people.

Part 3

Quite suddenly, Stirling questioned how, and with what, he had been treated. He moved over to the recently used mortar and pestle. He recognized the sight and smell of the green leaves as Athelas. "Hmm Smart woman." Next to that was a loosened spool of Modern Hospital-grade gauze. Stirling felt his 'bonnet'. Yep. Modern Bandages.

"Not only smart, but wise... It appears she's using mostly what she is already familiar with of the old ways, and utilizing only what she is certain of in the new ways."

This relieved some of the sudden gibbering doubts in Stirling's head, or it could have been the poultice numbing his chin... but still, the diversity of the tools, obsolete next to advanced, quack cures next to cure-alls, olde next to new, boggled his mind. He had known that things like this might happen, since thedude was rapidly updating things...

But was that truly for the best? The poor Herbalist probably had no idea what the stethoscope did! And what if she did? Would she know what she was hearing? And what about all those needles?? And what about overdosing on the medications in the corner, with their unpronounceable names???? And all of these tools were useless without the advanced Modern knowledge of the Minifigure Anatomy!!!!

The power being given. . . could it really be taught about and controlled correctly so fast???

Rather unsettled, Stirling stepped out of the hut.

Only to be met by a passing group of kids 'ooh'ing and 'ahh'ing over one with a handheld video game console. All eyes glued to the screen, they didn't even glance at Stirling once.

Before he could recover from that subtly terrifying sight, a voice called out to him:

"Ah!!! W'ha'nderful! You have recovered!"

Stirling turned, and saw the voices owner, who was in a outrageously fantastic garb.

Part 4

This minifigure was sporting a Hawaiian shirt with varying neon colored flowers on a black background, with navy blue waterproof sweatpants, some sort of special vision goggles, two gloves with one glove seeming a bit clunky on the back of it, a walkie talkie slung on his belt, and a fez, with bright pink sneakers to topple the whole thing. His face somehow complimented all this. He had a medium-bushy moustache, with the rest of his face collecting a 5 o'clock shadow, while his eyebrows were so bushy, they seemed to be like small individual mustaches over his shifty rascal eyes.  He pocketed a notepad and pencil into his shirt pocket as he walked up to Stirling.

"What in the fiery blazes are you supposed to be?" exclaimed Stirling

"I am but one man! However, this one man be also... The leader of a tricky and tricked out merry band!"

"The band being...?-"

"The merry band of the WOOD!"

"Seriously? You are still around, Rob? " Stirling began faintly recalling a certain business trip with his father to the Capitol . . . Someone in their party had 'known a shortcut', and they had been delayed by the Merry Band of the Wood, a group of 'free spirits, bound together to spread the wealth of joy and hilarity wherever it was in short supply.' As Robin Hood had so eloquently put it. Apparently, Stirling's Father's business caravan had hit them as 'Needing Merriment.'

Stirling chuckled inwardly as he remembered his father's strained smile and tapping fingers, upon meeting Robin.

The Fashion Statement spoke again.

Part 5

"Not quite. The original Robin is no longer with us, due to natural causes. I am Carlos. It is good. Robin was happy when he passed. We of his band, are glad that he does not see these dark days, under the glowering hood of thedude. Our callings hath become more difficult of late.

We of the Wood

are hunted by the Hood.

The hood is being thedude.

He is not a jolly leader,

and we are under the impression

he likes oppression.

This is sad.

It causes some of us frustration,

and our work is multiplied in many ways.

Our numbers swell,

but so do our...

clients.

Many more need a pick-me-up!"

"I see." Stirling remembered Carlos now. He was Little John's waterboy back then.

"And there are now so many more different ways to do it too! All of these new inventions, gadgets, gizmos, and small kitchen appliances! Ah, but our problems are not yours! Where are my manners? You are in no danger! You are a friend! I assure you, Johnson is being . . . sufficiency reprimanded . . . for his h'extreme actions. It is good to see you, Strider!"

"I wish I could say the same, Carlos," replied Stirling, turning to walk next to Carlos. "But your fashion sense frightens me like little else can." stated Stirling with a blank expression.

"Don't be hating on my Fashion sense!!!"

"I am." Strider expressed. "It makes no sense."

"OF COURSE IT DOES!" Carlos raged. "THIS IS ALL 'DAH RAGE!!!"

"And where did you learn to talk all slang?"

"eh.... 'Slang'?"

"As in, 'Don't be hating.' 'All the rage.' 'Hipster.' That's not native to Milteregnum now, is it???" Stirling muttered.

"Oh! The 'gansta-talk!' Yes! This small freckly fellow in green armor and a perky attitude to match showed up earlier today with you, and after making sure you got treatment, and talking at length with Miss Hucklepatt, whom you must have met, he's been at our mess hall ever since, causing a continuous uproar!" exclaimed Carlos.

Part 6

"Oh dear! I'm so sorr-" began to apologize Strider.

"NO! You mis-understand, Strider! The boy is the best entertainment this camp has had in months!"

"How does that not reassure me?"

"He is right this way," directed Carlos, pointing to a large collection of open aired tents.

~ ~ ~ ~ /\ /\ /\ , , , , , ⚡ ⚡ ⚡ ⚡ ⚡ ⚡

CHAPTER IV "Storytime"

Part 1

As Stirling surveyed the tents down from the small rise from where he and Carlos now stood, he could spot long rows of wood tables and seats all aligned throughout the large canopy. A voice drifted towards them from the center of the mess. . .

"...So then it was just me and Strider, sitting there on his couch, with the Maelstrom TV Monster looming over us! " Screamed Peragrine, pointing at the imaginary, gigantic Maelstrom TV Monster.

"Oh no, not this story..." groaned Strider, facepalming as he and Carlos drew closer.

"Why? What is wrong with the story?" questioned Carlos.

"Nothing wrong with the story. Just the story-teller..." Strider dragged his hand off his face and began smiling despite himself. "I can see why it's entertaining." Stirling admitted to Carlos nervously.

Carlos just laughed, and they listened to the story's continuation.

Part 2

"...And I said, 'Stir, please tell me you're completely paranoid and keep a weapon under your couch cushions all the time. And he turned to me and said coolly, 'Peragrine... I AM completely paranoid and keep a weapon under my couch cushions all the time!!!' 'But,' he clarified. 'It's on your side.' So I reached under my cushion, and pulled out the first thing that my hand touched. It was...some candy. 'Ok,' I asked him. 'How is this a weapon?' 'It's not! Keep digging! He replied as, suddenly, a re-run of the Wizard of OZ began to play on the Telly, bringing with it a strong wind through the TV screen!

I reached into my side, and produced . . . A Dirty Sock. 'How'd that get there?' I hooted, as I sling-shot the sock at the Monstrosity, which reeled at the noxious fumes of the projectile. 'Gee. That was pretty effective! How long has that been under there?' I asked my friend, to which he snapped 'None of you're business! No more questions! Just DIG!'

' So I did. I dug and touched something, and what did I pull out next? DO you know? " voiced Peragrine.

Some suggestions were made.

"Mints!"

"More Candy!"

"dustbunies!"

"Cotton-balls!"

"Springs!"

"Bacon!"

"THE ONE RING!"

A small shocked silence followed that final guess.

"Hehe. Unfortunately, no." resumed Perry. "Though it would have been appreciated. No. What I pulled out next was .... A Rubber Duckie. 'This is a weapon???' I asked him. 'No! Keep Digging!' he hollered above the wail of Police Sirens. CHiPs had just come on.

I- We. Were getting desperate. Stirling was reaching into his cushion too.

'I thought you said it was on MY side?' I howled above the sounds of swords clashing. Game of Thrones.

'I COULD BE WRONG!' He cried.

He reached in and recovered . . . a dead lobster.

'NOW THAT'S GOT TO HAVE AN INTERESTING STORY!' I said.

'NOT ONE YOU WANT TO KNOW.' He yelled, as he turned to parry a live swordsman with the bare claws of the PETRIFIED LOBSTER!!!"

Part 3

Peragrine shadow-boxed with a fresh lobster he had just picked up, and continued his tall tale.

"The Maelstrom beast loomed close, switching the channel to Sesame Street, where ELMO leered out from the screen, singing about cooking... Knives, Onions and Gas stoves fell into Stirling's Apartment."

A small child whimpered, remembering the legends of Sir Sharpie. . .

"Things looked bleak. I dug! I dug like never before! I dug so deep, my whole arm disappeared into the crevice between those cushions! and then, THEN I pulled out....

The Remote Control!!

My eyes went wide. I felt the POWER in my hands! 'I! HAVE! THE POWAAAAA!' I declared to the Maelstrom TV Monster chewing on the coffee table! And I pressed the off button, and I SAVED THE DAY! It turned off the beast, and ended the menace! Unfortunately, giant mutated remains of it fell atop Stirling's half of the couch, and he had to dig down through the couch cushions to get out on my side; He arrived the next day, and by that time I had cleared all the other TV stuff, and all was well. THE END!"

The story was preposterous. The delivery was worse. But it didn't matter, the food and especially the drink were great, and everyone cheered, even Carlos. Stirling just smiled and sighed at the completely skewed tale.

He and Perry really had fought a Maelstrom TV thing in his Nexus Tower Apartment but nothing had ever 'spawned' from it or the couch, and the battle had been over in under 60 seconds: about as long as it had taken for Stirling to reach over and pull it's plug, realize it was still running, and then Peragrine and him together smashing it with the Coffee Table. Whatever. No one ever wanted to hear the dull truth. He wasn't about to ruin everyone's good mood.

Part 4

Stirling was now close enough to see Peragrine's grin. Perry appeared to be scanning the faces about him. Strider could tell he was guaging if his audience was in the mood for another...

"Say... Did I ever mention the time I was made King of the Monkeys?"

Stirling decided now was a good time to make himself known. "Ahem."

"Strider, hey! You're awake! That's great! This calls for a song!" cheered Peragrine, flawlessly switching gears from one-man routines to two, as he took a bystander's Mug of Yo and took a sip to wet his lips for song.

Unfortunetly, Peragrine's second man was slightly unwilling. Still, against his wishes Strider found himself standing on the table next to Peragrine, who was now stomping out a rythm on the table.

Perry told Strider, "You know this ditty!"

Stirling considered the cadence for a moment. "Yeah... I guess I do. Wish I didn't, but I do." Strider smiled and the two began to singwith Peragrine adding tid-bits)

"There is an inn, a merry old inn (though not as merry as here!)

beneath an old grey hill,

And there they brew a drink so brown, (Here, Stir!)

That the Man in the Moon himself came down (take a sip of this!)

one night to drink his fill." (Bottoms up!)

Stirling did indeed put the cup's bottom up, along with many others who did the same. It was excellent, and he drained it just in time to continue the song with Perry...

A few of the older gentlemen also knew the song, and they joined in. And it seemed like in no time at all, the 13 verse song was ended, with many more mugs of various tastes consumed.

Part 5

Stirling's head hummed. He wondered why, and came up with a lot of reasons. But it seemed to be that none of that really mattered. He was having too much fun, and he couldn't remember the last time he had relaxed.

"Maybe it's the hubbub of the crowd, asking for encore, or maybe it's this fabulous Cup of Yo ho Ho... or maybe it's Peragrine rubbing off on me... Eh, whatever." " I'm up for another round, if you are, Perry!!" giggled Strider to Peragrine, who vociferously complied.

And like most times when one is having too much fun, the Merry Band of the Wood, and it's guests found they could not stop for anything. The fun lasted far into the evening, and deep into the night. . . More Stories were told, longer Songs were sung, Poetry of all likes were recited, Riddles were solved, Jokes were told... And explained... Wisdom and stupidity were freely and unequally shared. But you, dear reader, were not there, so I will spare you for better and worse, the experience of that night. Suffice to say, Stirling enjoyed himself and the company of native Morcians, for a night, without the dampening, looming, weighted shadow of thedude on his mind.

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CHAPTER V "Rock me, Amadaus"

Part 1

Maneya Kull swept through the leaves of the forest. She did not slow. The signs of travel were evident enough, and the light she followed still glowed sufficiently. Her Rouges followed at a heavier, slower, more unsure gait. Though they did not show it, she could sense their sparks fighting a pathetic urge to rest. She caught snippets of their thoughts:

'... Easier for her, wearing cloth...'

'...So glad a real tracker is tracking...'

'... Wormholer is soooo heavy...'

'...a baloney sandwich would really hit the spot ...'

'...could catch them tonight, at this pace though...'

'...Won't she miss something, going so fast?...'

The Sorceress refocused her attention to her front. She tilted her head, and strained her eyes. Her spell was wearing off; the glow was diminishing between the shrubbery. She raised her Dragon Staff ahead of her. Sending her intentions along the staff, along with the sufficient energy, the deep purple eyes of the dragon dimly lit, then faded back.

Her tracking spell renewed, she continued along it's shining serpentine length. A shine that only she could see.

~ ~ ~ ~ /\ /\ /\ , , , , , ⚡ ⚡ ⚡ ⚡ ⚡ ⚡

Amadaus and Floyd sat in their Tree. It was Guard Duty, and the usual was happening.

Nothing.

That was usual, and Floyd had found a way to deal with it.

solitaire.

Electronic solitaire, to be exact. The young 16 year old boy was absorbed in the digitized game, while his older superior by 31 years, Amadaus, sat hanging his legs off the branch, alternatively oiling his wood bow, and fiddling with the new-fangled Composite bow that the Camp Armsmaster had shoved onto him to master.

Part 2

Amadaus finished rubbing the oil into his old wood bow. Setting it aside, he glanced darkly at the composite bow, then at Floyd.

"Eh... What is that item you're using, boy?"

"The name's Floyd, old man."

"Floyd? Oh! Yes. I've met you before, have I not? You have a difficulty with boredom."

"Not anymore."

"How so? What has changed with you?"

"Your name's Amadaus, right?"

"Indeed."

"It's good to see you again, Amadaus. This thingy here is something new. It's an electronic game called solitaire, and it acts sort of like a card game. The point of it is to sort out all of the 'suites'. But there are only certain ways to move the cards around to get to others, and it's really more of a giant logic puzzle. With a bit of luck. I've only won twice so far, and I've played more times I can count."

"Solitaire, you say?"

"er... Yeah. That's what I said at the beginning..."

"May I have a go?"

Floyd looked at his superior. He was worried for a moment that the old man would chuck the 'electronic obsenity' away, as some of the older generations of folk had been prone to doing recently, with all of the new technology from thedude. But in Amadaus he quite surprisingly only saw genuine interest.

"uhhhh... Sure, but don't chuck it. I want it back."

"For a certainty, young man!"

Floyd handed the little gamepad to Amadaus, and leaned over to show him how to manipulate the cards on the screen with the buttons.

Five minutes later, the victory chime went off, and Amadaus and Floyd both made the tree shake with their celebration. High-Fives, Fist bumps, and Combination handshakes were learned on the spot, and excessive back-slapping was given. Thankfully, no one fell off the tree... And the tree itself held.

Part 3

Amadaus gratefully gave back the solitaire game back to Floyd, who insisted that he keep it, seeing as it was in much more skillful hands, to which Amadaus replied, "How do you think I became so fine?"

"Luck? Old-aged Wisdom?"

"No... Practice!"

". . .That wasn't your first time?"

"Not by a long shot! The Game of solitaire is, in fact, a card game... I have played it many times, with the physical cards." and he withdrew a battered deck of cards from his pocket. "But your fancy little device contains the entire practice deck and the table to boot! A powerful thing. Enjoy."

Floyd sat agaped. He had been playing an old grandpa's card game all this time?! What other fun stuff were they hiding?!

Amadaus smiled, sat back and languidly looked about. His eyes fell back upon the Composite bow. A sudden cheery thought occurred to him. "Well, Floyd's fancy new game did bring more joy than frustration. Perhaps not all advanced technology is unbearably complex..."

He picked up the new bow; Pulled it back, and sighted down it.

Ah! Amadaus saw something. Down there, on the forest floor.

Paradox Rouges!

"Floyd, my man! Do you have that crackerjack thing?!"

Floyd snapped his head up from the game. "The what? Oh, the Radio? Yes. Here." He handed it to Amadaus. "Why? What is it?"

The old man pointed down at the Red and Black Rouges on the forest Floor, who were now entering the clearing at their feet.

"I will inform Command of this." said Amadaus.

~ ~ ~ ~ /\ /\ /\ , , , , , ⚡ ⚡ ⚡ ⚡ ⚡ ⚡

Part 4

Miss Kull saw a large concentration of light from her spell up ahead. It was blindingly obvious that they had rested here. Literally.

Ending her enchantment, the light faded into oblivion, allowing her to see the remains of a campsite.

"They went far in one day." she contemplated. "Perhaps I will not be able to end this mission as quickly as it first seemed."

Maneya recited, in a undertone, a new incantation now; a charm much like her previous one, but tooled slightly different.

Now, the Forest floor alit with many various pastel-coloured square minifigure footprints. Searching the separate footprints, she began imitating each one's movements. She would first follow one set, consider it. Then move on to another set, syncing it in her mind with the other.

To a stranger, it looked like she was dancing in the clearing.

To her fellow Paradox Rouges, she was reconstructing an event from the day before, with the powers of Sorcery. They kept their distance, out of respect, and awareness. She would need some small time to focus, but after that short time, there would be no questions as to what had transpired here, and thusly where to head next. Such was the power of Maneya Kull's magic. They knew, by experience, that her style of detective work was faster and more accurate than anything they could try.

So they waited. They perimetered the area, scanned north, south, east, west. The trees were denser than they'd of liked, as it made for too many hiding spots. It felt like they were being watched.

And Indeed they were. In the trees above watched nearly a dozen of the Merry Band of the Wood. . . They watched, silent, except for those reporting via their new walkie talkies. . .

~ ~ ~ ~ /\ /\ /\ , , , , , ⚡ ⚡ ⚡ ⚡ ⚡ ⚡

Part 5

"A Paradox Sorcerer?"

"Yes. And she's following you."

Stirling sat in conference with Peragrine, Carlos, and certain members of Carlos' leadership team. Mercedes, the Perimeter Captain, had just gotten a call from the East Post line, via his Walkie-Talkie and was off to the side, writing down intelligence as it was reported to him.

"She's probably an agent of thedude." mused Stirling.

"That's what we thought as well," agreed Armsmaster Fiddleton, crossing his arms, and furrowing his eyebrows. "Whatever she wants with you can't be good."

"And unfortunately, we do not have the firepower to confront her, and her reported 6 fellow Space Marauder Rouges." said Carlos. He had changed wardrobe for some reason, and was now wearing a loose fitting shiny gold Onesie. "However, there is a place nearby that you could find shelter from this storm."

"Well, actually, I think it might be good to meet her. We could be wrong and she might be frie-"

Suddenly a scream was heard from Mercedes' Radio, followed by terrible sounds of violence.

"WE'VE BEEN FOUND! I REPEAT, THE ROGUES HAVE LOOKED UP! WE'VE BEEN COMPROMISED!"

An explosion was heard, and the Radio went silent.

Mercedes replied instinctively, "Men, get out of there! Scatter! Do not return to base!" He sighed and confided to the surrounding group in the room. "They probably didn't hear me. We can assume the Rogues are on their way."

"We'll have to move camp." Someone said, with equal part frustration and resolution.

"I don't think they're friendly, Stir." Peragrine said to Strider, attempting to lighten the mood.

Part 6

A young, blond fellow replied hotheadedly, "Why do we run? We can take 7 silly metal-encased fools!"

Some amongst the room voiced their agreement, while others glowered darkly. An old, wizend man in outdated Kingsman's Guard stepped forward with his cane and said authoritatively, "So which one of you young'uns will stand on the front lines?"

The room went quiet.

"That's what I thought. To be clear, that would be me on the front, if we were indeed to stand our ground. But we cannot. For though we might win this battle, our secret camp's location would then be known to all, friend and foe by the end of the day. Barney-Bots would boom us from above, and there would be NO escape. Such is the curse of your technology, boy. " As he stepped back, the older generation in the room nodded gravely and respectfully, while the younger ones became deathly white and quiet.

"Do we even have another suitable location?" piped up the blond boy again, moderately subdued, but still naturally rebellious.

Carlos replied with enthusiasm. "Yes we do! We have set up for such an eventuality. Our Master Scout, Stabb will show the way." He pointed at a small, short-legged Minifigure in dark green leather on a stool off to the side, who looked up from a book with a little book-lamp attached, and sheepishly grinned at all the faces looking back at him.

"But first, we will have to prepare the camp! Everyone, organize your separate divisions! I will check with you soon, and we will move out immediately after!" Carlos finished.

Everyone went off to take care of their individual factions, shops and people and prepared to leave.

Stirling switched his attention to Carlos, who was now moving about his empty Pavilion, packing things just as he had ordered his friends.

"So. Where was this safe haven you spoke of?"

Carlos didn't immediately answer him, but instead searched some scrolls, and then yanked one out and plonked it on his desk, unrolling it.

"Here," he said. "Calibus Tower."

CHAPTER VI "Amadaus The Senseless"

Part 1

Maneya Kull and her Rouges formed a circle, facing outwards, surveying their smashing handiwork.

"Was that it?!" asked one. He felt severely underwhelmed.

"Let us see," replied Maneya. She thrust her staff above her head, said the necessary words, and immediately after, sprung at a tree. In mid-leap, the glowing purple nodes on the back of the Dragon head flashed, and released two huge, solid, Purple Maelstrom arcs, turning her Staff into a two handed Laser Scythe.

It was a Doomslicer. The Paradox Sorcecerer's Valiant Weapon.

With it, she cut straight through the trunk of that tree in one easy motion.

And down fell Amadaus and Floyd, like two homeless little apples. Floyd scrambled backwards, trying to find a weapon, then he was suddenly dodging bullets from 6 angry Paradox Rogues. With all of his youthful agility and the multiple trees nearby, he just barely made it to a sword and buckler, before ducking behind a large stone. Alas, he knew such things were useless, and his life forfeit... What would the Heroes of olde do? Take down as many as possible, that's what! He began devising a plan to blow them all up, when he heard Amadaus and the Sorceress talking. He peeked out from behind his cover.

Amadaus was weaponless as well, and had the added misfortune of landing right in front of Miss Kull. He stood up and faced the Sorceress.

"I have learned something today." He said.

"Reeeaaally? Do tell!" mocked she. Then she reached out and gripped his forehead.

"Yes, I -AAAAAAUUUUUGH!"

"You will show me where Stirling Silvertine has gone!"

"NEVER! YAAAH!!! Free men will never bow to the likes of you!"

"Truly? I demand to differ."

Amadaus was helpless in the magical grip of Maneya, as she chaotically mined his mind for the information she sought.

Part 2

She closed her eyes and became yesterday's Amadaus, receiving his orders to replace Johnson at the East Post line. Walking through the camp. Getting handed the Composite bow from Armsmaster... Couldn't-Remember-His-Name. Taking a peek into Miss Hucklepatt's hut and seeing the shadowed form of Carlos' old friend, and his funny freckled travelling buddy. Walking the hidden deer paths of the Forest to the Merry Band of the Wood's Camp East Perimeter post. Learning Electronic Solitaire, Spotting herself, reporting size, strength, abilities, anything and everything, straight to base!

Maneya boiled over. He had alerted Stirling's friends to her coming! Now they knew! Now they would be spurred on! Now this chase would be more exhausting that it had to be for either of them! He was sooo goody-two shoe, this Amadaus. So ... helpful... Just like that Mr. Richardson. IT. MADE. HER. SICK.

Out of sheer spite, she decided she would try something new on this old man. She would try her turncoat enchantment. She thought each word of the spell very clearly in her head, and sent anger and spite into Amadaus' head via her vice-like hand.

It worked. She could feel his thoughts quickly degrading into base madness.

Stepping back, smiling, she kept a single minifigure claw on him, then released him, and backpedaled into the midst of her Paradox cohorts.

Amadaus howled. He Slavered. He pawed at his face. Then he began to whimper, to looked around. No one was there. There was a blur directly in front of him, but he found he couldn't bear to look at it. Instead, he looked at his hands. None of it seemed to make sense to him. Then his eyes alit on Floyd, peeking out from behind a large stone. A swift reaction flowed through his body, and he felt FURIOUS.

Part 3

Floyd knew that what was staring at him now was not his superior anymore. It was a Maelstrom Monster. And as the Monster in the form of Amadaus charged him, roaring like a lion, Floyd snatched the sword, and set it forth.

Thusly was Amadaus the Senseless defeated before his rampage over Morica could begin.

Floyd opened his eyes. The listless pieces of his elderly friend lay at his feet, and just beyond him stood the enemy. Floyd lifted his sword and charged, but never made it.

After all, he brought a knife to a gunfight.

~ ~ ~ ~ /\ /\ /\ , , , , , ⚡ ⚡ ⚡ ⚡ ⚡ ⚡

CHAPTER VII "Time for Talk"

Part 1

Stirling stared straight out towards the distant horizon. He felt rather exposed, out on the plains like this.

They had left the camp and forest as soon as they could. It didn't take long, since most of their stuff had been kept together instead of sorted through, due to his childhood friendship with Carlos. And their provisions had not needed to be much replenished, due to camping just one night.

Even so, in that short amount of time they took to set off, the Merry Band of the Wood had already begun to move out, just as Strider and Perry were waving goodbyes. The organization that the Merry Band had was admirable. Stirling felt better about their chances of outrunning the powerful Paradox Agents. Carlos was a good, if a bit unorthodox and fashionless, leader.

Speaking of Carlos, Strider could see the safe haven that he had suggested to him. This Calibus Tower was somewhat familiar to Stirling. But once again, the answer laid in his adolescence.

Once again, he recalled his younger days, and distant memories of lighter times.

Ah yes. Calibus Tower was familiar to Stirling because that was where King Matthias' late Queen had hailed from. That was how it had become more... Famous. It did not truly have any military value. Though it was a defensible location, it was not near any valuable resources, and was more of an estate for the Calibus family than anything else. If he remembered correctly, a Lord Mirabus had been in charge then. But Carlos had told him that a Lady Charlotte would be the one to talk to...?

Part 2

A shrill whistling tune from Peragrine broke Stirling's train of thought. Stirling looked at his travelling partner who was snapping his fingers, looking straight ahead, and singing.

"...Here's a little song I wrote,

You might want to siiiing it note-for-note,

Don't worry. be happeh."

"That's ok, Perry. I'm trying to thin-"

"in every life we have some trouble,"

"yeah, I know tha-"

"But when you worry, you make it double!"

"I know, Perry. Boy do I kno-"

"So don't worry..."

"Ok, I won'-"

"Be happeh."

"OK, Perry! I ge-"

"Don't Worreh, Be happy now!" and he broke into more of his ear-splitting whistling.

"Alright, PERRY! I get the message!" Stirling articulated with exasperation as he gently shook Perry's shoulder in an attempt to communicate.

Peragrine looked at Strider with a question on his face. Then he removed his earbuds.

"I'm sorry. Did you need something? I was listening to my Ibrick."

Stirling stopped a moment. Then he groaned and replied. "Nevermind."

"You sure?"

"Yeah. I thought you were talking to me."

"Oh." Peragrine chuckled. "Nope! Just singing along."

"You can do one thing for me."

"Yeah?"

"Please don't whistle."

"Aww..." complained Perry, but he complied, deciding to hum and dance along instead.

They continued in this strange fashion for awhile. Two men with big hiking packs. One in blue, stoically marching along in the tall grass, making a solid line behind him. The other in green, strutting this way and that,busting more than a few moves, talking to himself, and making a erratic squiggle in the grass behind him.
~ ~ ~ ~ /\ /\ /\ , , , , , ⚡ ⚡ ⚡ ⚡ ⚡ ⚡

Part 3

A few hours later, when the sun had reached it's zenith for the day, the two broke for lunch under a lone tree. As Strider expected, Peragrine was famished.

"You shouldn't have been breakdancing with that pack. I'm not sure anything's in those pockets anymore," he said, only half joking.

"Well what would you suggest? It was "Funkytown"! Should I have given you my pack to hold a minute? The moment would have passed!" Peragrine explained defensivly around a mouthful of Hardtack Buscuit. He then drained it down with a Notion Potion from his personal Nexus Force Pack.

"Actually, yes. I would have held both."

"Really? Huh. I'll keep that in mind." Peragrine grinned a mischeivious grin.

Soon enough, the two were on thier way again, licking Quicksicles to get them back to speed again. Peragrine pulled out his Ibrick, and then abruptly moaned.

"Aw man!"

"What's up?" Strider addressed Perry.

"I left my Ibrick on loop, and now it's out of charge!"

Stirling laughed. He couldn't help it. Electricity might be working, but it still wasn't easily available. Nature reared its wonderfully inconveinent head again!

"This ain't funny. I don't have my jams." Muttered Peragrine, giving a sad lower lip.

"Hahaha! Don't worry! I'm sure they have a recharge outlet at Calibus! WOO-hahaha!" Stirling was doubling over in hystarical laughter.

Peragrine looked towards the now not-so-distant tower sticking out of another, smaller forest. It was maybe 2 miles out. Hopefully.

"Untill then, you have to- Oh my STARS! You'll have to NOT be linked to a mechanical device! OH THE HUMANITY!" Stirling caroused.

Peragrine looked back at Strider, and grinned. He shrugged good-naturally, and wrapped up his earbuds around the Ibrick, shoving it into his pocket in mock distain.

"I suppose I'll just have to sing my own song!" he sniffed, clearing his throat threantingly.

Part 4

"Or! Or..." Stirling mentioned, trying to recover in time to suggest an alternative course of action. "Or, you could make polite conversation...?" he managed to say with a equally polite raised hand and smile.

"Oh? Yeah, I suppose I could." Mused Peragrine, stroking an imaginary goatee. "Whatcha want to talk about?" he asked, glancing sidelong at Stirling. Both of them were grinning uncontrollably.

So for the next mile, they talked about a variety of things. All rather dull and unimportant to you, the reader. Such as how Strider had found Perry under the tents, or the weather, or many other things besides.

During a lull in the conversation, Strider asked Perry, "Hey, Perry. What's a Marbello?"

"A wha? Marbe- OH! Marbeeeelllo! Yeah! That's a blast from the past."

"Your past?"

"Yeah! That's from my street urchin ...days.... Peragrine's eyes quickly glazed over, and he looked off into the southern horizon.

"But you don't want to hear that story!"

Stirling peered over, trying to make eye contact with his friend. "Sure I do! Why not? Is it boring?"

"No. It's.... It's a long story."

"Well, we still have the time!" And he motioned to the Tower still a ways off.

"No. I don't want to tell it. Besides, I'm all storied out from Yesterday night aannd today!" Peragrine complained.

Stirling was confused. "But you always tell a good story... Even if they are usually outrageous."

Peragrine flashed a weak smile at Stir, but it was obvious that he wasn't really here. He was thinking.

"Peragrine! Thinking?!"

Part 5

"Well then if you won't tell me about this 'Marbello,'"

Peragrine blinked twice and shook his head.

"Then... Can you tell me what a "Man-Hug" is?" Stirling tried.

Peragrine seemed to slowly come back from wherever he had been. "Uh, A man hug? Oh! A Man Hug! Yeah... Sure, I guess. A Man-Hug is one of these!"

And with that Perry gave Stirling a big hug, squeezing him as tightly as he could. Or maybe he was trying to wring his neck. Either way, Perry wasn't strong enough to worry Stir.

Peragrine backed off after a moment. "Of course, normally in a Man-Hug, the other guy usually hugs back... But that's-

Stirling laughed, "Oh, Come 'ere you silly nutjob!" and he gave him what he knew as a 'Bear hug'.

"''Ulp!" peeped Peragrine, as he was nearly crushed. Then he smiled peacefully and hugged back.

The two stood amidst the trees like that for a moment. Then they realised that was reeeeeallly awkward looking, and brushed themselves off brusquely. They continued their walk in calm, thoughtful silence.

Calibus Tower loomed ever closer. As the finer details of the Estate came into view, the two travellers strafed towards the North Gate. The only gate with a road leading to it.

~ ~ ~ ~ /\ /\ /\ , , , , , ⚡ ⚡ ⚡ ⚡ ⚡ ⚡

 CHAPTER VIII "Calibus Tower"

Part 1

Knock Knock Knock.

Stirling rapped the doorknocker on the quaint main gate. It swung open limply.

"No guards. What a place." Said Stirling. He grimaced.

"Well then, onward to the Tower! There's got to be someone here. Everything's all well kept. Just look at these pretty gardens!" Peragrine commented, ending on a cheery note as his eyes danced over the elegant foliage along the cobblestone roadway.

It was a nice design. Simple, not overdone, or gaudy. There was a tasteful smattering of colorful flowers and such amidst the steady swath of healthy green. The hedges were just over chest height. You could step on you tippy toes and see the ground on the other side. Just the right height for privacy without giving a maze-like feel. Farther off, Stirling could see a rise, and on the rise was what appeared to be the resident gardener, planting a plethora of petunias. Little dots of pink and purple this far away. He then began to spray some Miracle-Gro on them, in a rather lively manner. . .

"Miracle-Gro... Wonder what's that doing to the pests?" Stirling wondered dark-humored.

They mounted the steps up to the Main Tower's door and knocked. The door opened a moment later, and a butler stood in the doorway.

"Welcome to Calibus Tower," he greeted politely. "Can I help you with something?"

"Yes," they both said, then looked at each other. Stirling turned back to the butler. "We are hoping the Master of this Estate would be willing to lend a room to two travellers, for a time? Perhaps sell and trade for supplies?"

The butler looked them up and down with an unreadable face. "I don't see why not. Come in and I will inform her Ladyship of your request."

Part 2

He opened the door wide for them, and they stepped into the cool inner Tower. He lead them down a hall and into the second archway on the right. It was a Parlor. Waving a hand to the various furnishings, the butler said, "Have a seat." They did so. "And what names shall I give to her Ladyship?" he queried.

Peragrine looked over at Stirling in curious askance, as Stirling looked at Peragrine with a facial shrug.

"Stirling Silverstine" He replied.

"Silverstine!" the man repeated with suddenly raised eyebrows. Before either of the travelers could react the butler bustled out of the room, his brisk steps echoing off the stonework before fading away.

"Huh. he never asked for my name..." Peragrine remarked, slouching into the mass of pillow throws he had placed himself in.

Swift doubts abruptly filled Stirling's mind. Was the butler upset? Was there a history with the Calibus Estate and Silverstine Clan that he had forgotten? Perhaps something recent? Stirling gasped; Perhaps they had news of his family's whereabouts!

"Even so. Prepare for the worst, and you will never be disappointed," he reminded himself. He loosened his Samurai Katana in its sheath. Casually, he walked about the room, internally, he warmed himself up for a confrontation.

Peragrine watched him from his cushy position, with his hands behind his head. "Whatcha' doin'?"

"Waiting."

"No. That's what I'm doing. You look like how you do in-between waves in the Avant Gardens Survival Simulator. Antsy."

"Then I am waiting for the next wave."

"Do you expect trouble?" Peragrine was mildly piqued.

"I expect consternation. Whether it be positive, negative, or both, is what remains to be seen."

"So... We've caused a Stir?"

Stirling stopped pacing and looked sideways, grinning at Perry. "Was that pun intended?"

Peragrine's face drew a blank as he reviewed his statement with open mouth. "Yes. Whatever it was... Yes."

Part 3

Stirling considered for a moment, the chances of explaining the hidden pun... Then decided the odds were not in his favor. He simply shook his head, and resumed pacing. A few minutes passed, which Stirling spent recalling childhood memories of Calibus Tower mentions. Nothing notable came to mind.

Peragrine eventually got up and fiddled about the room in a vain search for an Outlet.

Thusly, they were both immediately aware of the sound of distant running boots. Peragrine's reached into his pack and quietly withdrew his Adventurer's Crossbow and Whip. He joined Stirling, who stood just inside the archway to the room with his Samuria Katana drawn.

With his eyes watching the hallway, and the large stairwell at the end, Stirling spared a glance at Peragrine's choice of weaponry. "You do know that's a terrible choice for close quart-" he began, but was cut off by a loud yell.

"STIIIRLIIING!" echoed a voice coming from deeper inside the tower. The heavy running footsteps were getting louder. "STIRLING! Stirling Stirling Stirling!" It continued on, obviously excited.

Stirling cocked his head. "What?" He couldn't tell anything about the source of the voice. Male, Female, angry, sad, happy, old, young--nothing. The natural stone walls of the Tower echoed the voice and made it sound warped and haunted.

"Brother! Is it really you?"

"No...No way! Could it possibly be...?" Stirling's mind had hit upon an Incredulous possibility. His face lit up, and Peragrine noticed, looking down the hallway with him.

"It has been SO LONG!" the voice continued.

Part 4

The sound of feet running pell-mell drew closed and closer, and then a figure appeared, swiftly speeding down the Stairwell at the end of the hall. The foot of the stairs ended out of sight, and the Figure apparently slowed down considerably, for the sound of feet quieted. A moment later, a figure appeared at the far end. Black hair, navy blue eyes, clean shaven, strong-set jaw. He looked not a day over 20, but Stirling knew better. A small, but firm and wiry frame showed that he took his physical fitness very seriously. This was accentuated by the fact that he wore a loose cloth shirt with the sleeves rolled up past his elbows, some jeans, and heavy-duty, tall, work boots. His whole outfit was dusty, and not exactly clean, as if he had just recently come from some dirty job or another. This figure walked briskly down the hall towards Stirling and Peragrine.

"By the Stars..." the black haired figure breathed. "Little brother, is it really you?"

"It truly is, Austin." Said Stirling. "I have returned from the stars." He remarked triumphantly, as they gripped each other in a strong embrace.

Austin gripped him by the shoulders and looked Stirling in the eye. "Did you find much glory?" asked Austin, his own eyes glinting.

"No. Much Honor!" Stirling amended joyously.

Peragrine inched over to be perpendicular to the two of them, and looked at one and the other.

"Huh! Yeah, I can see the resemblance. Ya' both got blue eyes, but his is a bit darker. Ya' both got dark hair; But I think his is true black. Ya both have that sorta funny chin that makes you look like a disgruntled Gorilla. . . Did you say he's the younger one?" he asked Stirling.

The two brothers stared at Peragrine for a moment, but before they could reply, more footsteps were heard rushing down the stairwell.

Part 5

A lady in fine dressage, followed by a man in casual Knight's attire came careening down the stairs.

"Austin, my man! Hold up!" said the knight as he came down the hallway with the lady. "Who's this guy?"

"Sir Grongringro-eth. My Lady. This is my younger brother, Stirling Silvertine."

"Oh. Is he a knight?" Grongringro asked Austin, who shook his head.

"Not of your type."

"Welcome." Said the Lady, stepping forward. "I am Lady Charlotte Calibus, the Master of this estate. Any relation of Austin's is a friend of mine."

"Pleased to meet you," said Stirling, giving a polite bow.

"But who is your friend?" she inquired, motioning to Peragrine, who had his crossbow slung across his back, and his whip at his side. He had been staring quizzically at all the different faces. "Alfred did not mention a second." She stated.

"Well that's 'cause he forgot to ask me! Rather rude, if I do say so myself." Peragrine mentioned, crossing his arms haughtily.

"M'Lady. Sir. Austin. This is Peragrine Wanderthistle. A very good friend of mine."

"'Ello!"

"And a part of the Nexus Force, as a Venture Leaguer. I am also in the Nexus Force, as a Sentinel."

"Ah, so you've been keeping my little brother here out of trouble, eh, Peragrine?"

"Please, call me Perry! And yeah! I've saved this guy's plastic frame more times than I can count! Why, just in this one adventure alone I believe I've saved him..." Perry stroked his chin thoughtfully. "5 times!"

"What? No way!" Said Stirling, turning to face his comrade while Austin began to grin wider and wider by the moments. "I'll admit you've saved me once or twice on this quest, but let's not forget who crash-landed us!" Stirling remarked, ending with a smirk.

"Err... I blame tehdude." Peragrine deflected weakly.

"Don't we all." Whispered Charlotte discreetly. "Austin, a word."

Part 6

"Besides! I've still got more saves than you! For this adventure, anyway." Peragrine added.

"Ok. Let me count how many I've got on you..." challenged Stirling as he looked at the ceiling and began quietly counting off on his hands. "Oh... let's see..." Upon reaching 3, Stirling's smug smile slowly began to fade. He couldn't seem to recall any more saves... "Um. Oh! 4.... And 5. There! Even." Stirling said, attempting to hide his relief.

"Oooough." Muttered Peragrine, eyeing Stirling impishly. "I would say your making some of those up, but you're not that kind of a sport. I'll be needing to hear those instances though!" he said, shaking a warning finger under Stirling's nose, a insanely mischievous smile on his face.

"If you two are done posturing," interrupted Lady Charlotte.

Peragrine and Stirling, both leaning in on each other in fake confrontation, turned their heads and saw the other three, standing tightly together and now joined by the butler Alfred, staring at them.

"I am sure there is much information to be told. Would you, Stirling, and you, Peragrine, be willing to join us for Dinner?"

"Certainly, my Lady. Apologies."

"Ooh! Sounds lovely! I wonder if they'll have pie?"

~ ~ ~ ~ /\ /\ /\ , , , , , ⚡ ⚡ ⚡ ⚡ ⚡ ⚡

Chapter IX "Dining"

Part 1

Stirling and Austin sat next to each other at dinner, which was held in a smaller, more intimate room. Stirling liked that, because that meant they were comfortable with him, and that was a good position to be in, he thought. Though this was unbalanced by the fact that there were too few people at the table for such a large estate.

Lady Charlotte sat at the head. At her left, Sir Grongringro-eth. After him, Peragrine. On the Lady's right sat Austin, and then Stirling.

As the meal began to arrive, Stirling felt Austin grip his shoulder. He turned towards Austin.

"Little brother, you cannot believe how much joy it brings me to see you again!" He said.

"And I, you." Replied Stirling, returning the grip. "But where are the others? Tell me what has happened.

Austin's smile rapidly faded. "I know precious little, Brother."

"Well. Tell me what you do know. How did you get here?" prompted Stirling.

"It all began with a dinner party, alot like this one, over at the Keep. Father was having a celebration feast with some businessmen from the Capitol for the signing of agreement between the Royal Swordsmith and our deepest, most remote Iron ore mines."

"Nickelback Mines?"

"No. We've found much better mines than that, since your departure." Chuckled Austin. "Appropriately, the best ore is farther down and farther in. And that's where we've been venturing. Or were." His face resumed it's somber state. "But back to the dinner. There were some aristocrats from the Capitol, and we were all there to celebrate, but then these horrible flying metal beasts broke in, and immediately began shooting everything. Everyone. Laughing, and spouting all sorts of nonsense. Of course, Father and a few others of the men took command of the situation and told us younger fellows to take the women and children to the contingency tunnels. . .

Part 2

". . .So that's what I did. I took Emma, Mother, and one or two of the dignitaries from the Capitol down through the tunnels, and I didn't see Peter or Father again. You see, once we entered the tunnels. . ."

Austin went on to explain how the entrance to the contingency tunnels collapsed shortly after he and his party had gone in, leaving everyone in the dark. The Tunnels were long, sprawling, and confusing, even for the Silverstines, who had partly created and wholly mapped them. The Tunnels had many branches, to go to many different exits. But it soon became difficult to remember the way, for the attacking forces had somehow gotten back on their tail, and there was no time to plan which way to go. Amidst the chaos, people were separated, lights and lanterns went out, and hope died for the brave men in the Banquet Hall.

Austin related how he had to defend himself from one of the self-proclaimed 'Barney-Bots', and when the dust had settled, and he was able to salvage and light a torch from his broken lantern and clothes, he was all alone. He continued along the tunnels, eventually recovering his sense of location, and reached an exit, far down from the mountains, closer to the plains.

"I sped back as fast as possible. But I was too late." Mourned Austin. "Silverstine Keep had been entirely ransacked. The beasts responsible long gone."

"But that doesn't explain how you got here," said Stirling, biting into a slice of cake.

"That is the simple part. The longest, but simplest." Austin replied

Part 3

He quickly summarized how he had looked for tracks all over, even into the mines, but found that all the footprints either ended at a pile of lifeless pieces, or simply stopped cold. None of the smashed were Father, Mother, Peter, or Emma.

"And that worries me." Austin continued. "Because now I know who the 'Berney Bots' belong to."

"Thedude." Stirling spat.

Austin grimaced and spat as well. "Correct, brother. And-"

"So why do you linger here?" Stirling whispered, sounding more accusingly then he meant. "Are you not burning with desire to find the truth about Father?"

"I am. But I stay here for good reason, which will be explained in a moment." Austin pointed out. "And I could ask you the same thing. Why did you not come at the first sign of trouble? Surely you heard the news when Militeregnum was blockaded by your Nexus Force."

"I... did not."

"What do you mean?"

"I have not been keeping up with Militeregnum news. My mind was at peace, knowing you, Peter, and Father were here. I thought it was as safe as could be. I did hear that there was trouble on Milteregnum, but I was entirely on the frontline offensive against the Maelstrom on Figaro 7 at the time. I didn't... Pay much attention to it. It's like that all over the universe now. I... well, I dismissed it to the fact that nowhere is safe these days, but that you were all here for our home."

"You couldn't be distracted for your home-world? You couldn't have come if you'd wanted to?? Responsibility to the Nexus Force outweighed family bonds??? "

"No. I could have. I would have, but I didn't know the extent of the damage here!" Stirling muttered with frustration. "I thought I was needed on that front. But really, I was needed here, wasn't I?" He looked at his older brother Austin, confused.

Part 4

Austin tossed his hands and replied, "What's done is done. You are here, and I am glad. We can find the others quickly. Or rather, you can find the others. I... Too... have responsibilities that stop me." And he looked at Lady Calibus. "That is why I stay here. M'Lady?"

Lady Charlotte had been listening to Peregrine who was regaling them with the story of the Maelstrom TV. At Austin's prompting she turned her gaze to the brothers.

"Stirling, your brother Austin has been a key player in our efforts to bring down thedude's Stronghold on Mount Thunderclap. We intend to undermine the Fortress and collapse it from below, at the same time burying it in the lava from the Mount at the same time. In this way we hope to entirely vanquish the evils that have plagued our land. It is not enough to destroy thedude. One of his lieutenants would simply step up into the void we had conveniently created."

"Like Vladek." Interrupted Grongringro. "I'd bet he'd love to take command."

"Exactly so." Agreed the Lady, keeping her eyes on Austin and Stirling. "We found your brother out on the plains while digging too close to the surface and making audible sound. One of many mistakes that we have not done since, due to his expertise."

"That is why I must stay here, Brother." Austin interjected. "I'm helping Lady Charlotte end thedude's reign- Permanently. Then we will have the time and safety to speedily search for our Family. Not only that, but I'm sure we won't be the only ones looking for reunions."

"That is true," conceded Stirling. "I have already come across a separated household." He remebered meeting Mr. Richardson who has said of thedude, "They took my boys!" And how during their talks he had spoke fondly of his 'Isaiah' and 'Bartholomew.'

Everyone was solemn for a moment, thinking of affected friends, or family, in some cases.

Part 5

"So. How close are you?" Peregrine queried as he scraped up some chocolate from his plate with his fork.

"Uh..." Grongringro glanced at Austin and the Lady, then back at Peragrine. "Not even close." He muttered.

Lady Charlotte spoke up. "It is a long way to Mount Thunderclap. Even longer when we are mining for every step. But is it not worth the wait, even if it is months or a whole year, to have a free Morcia for years to come? For this plan does not simply defeat thedude, but strikes fear into any who would dare to ascend after him."

"Huh. That's a long time. I've never been good at waiting." Peragrine mentioned.

"That's very true. I can attest to that!" laughed Stirling.

The table-talk, which, up to this point, had been quite calm, subdued, and purposeful, smoothly changed course, and everyone began relating tales of adventure, suspense, and whimsy. Eventually, though, everyone trickled out to their separate duties. As guests, however, Stirling and Perry were shown to a room they could use while they were there, and Alfred assisted them in settling in.

"Thank you again, Alfred."

"Certainly, Sir. Is there anything else I can do for you, or Master Pippin?"

Peragrine whirled around to face the Butler, poking a finger at him. "Drop the 'Pippin', keep the 'Master'. I liiike the sound of 'Master.'"

"Many people do." The Butler said impassively. "If you are certain there is nothing else I can do, I will take my leave."

"Yes. Please thank the Lady again for me. We are truly grateful."

"Of course." Assured the Butler, as he left the room.

Part 6

Stirling watched Alfred sweep down a short hallway and down the stairwell, towards ground level, two floors away. Then he closed the door.

"Com'on, we should get some rest." He said, tired to the bone.

"Right-o!" agreed his counterpart, in no way tired.

And that's just what they did. For the first time in a good, long while, Stirling rested in a proper civilized bed, and relaxed. He had already found one of his family; His mission was of to a good start. Next, he had to find the others... Alive or-

"No. Everything's going to work out just fine. I'm heading home." He reassured himself.

But his dreams said otherwise.

~ ~ ~ ~ /\ /\ /\ , , , , , ⚡ ⚡ ⚡ ⚡ ⚡ ⚡

CHAPTER X "Premonitions and Alliances"

Part 1

"Father! I have the water." The young boy yelled, as he neared the last few steps of the mountainside pathway.

"Wonderful!" came the reply amidst the party chatter. "Bring it right in. Our guests are thirsty."

The boy hefted the large steel bucket over the last step, and trotted into the courtyard. It was empty.

The boy looked up and down the two long parallel banquet tables that were set up. There was no one there, but the sound of party chatter continued. He looked to his right, towards the Main House of Silverstine Keep, which was actually inside the mountain. And stepping out from the door came a figure. It was Father. He came slowly, as if hurt. The boy hurired over to meet him with the Bucket.

"Father, where is everyone?"

Father collapsed.

"Father???"

"You. You were too late."

And suddenly, the party chatter flamed into screams.

File:Nightmare-side1-0.jpg

"FATHER!"

"Searching for someone?" came a female voice, not rising above the clamor, but subverting it. "Funny. Me too."

The young boy looked up, and saw a figure in hooded Red and Black robes. "Now give up." It said

The Hooded Figure's dark presence encompassed him entirely. And everything was still. Absolutely Still.

Then Stirling awoke. It was morning.

"I can't stay." He thought.

~~~~/\/\/\,,,,,⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡

Afar off, the source of Stirling's nightly unease continued her hunt.

Menaya Kull dropped the body of another greenclad victim. As the body hit the ground, it smashed, and the pieces scattered in all directions, instantly lost in the 30 or so other pieces laying around.

She turned to her 4 remaining Paradox Rouges.

"We've been duped." She snarled.

"Sir, Behind you!" said one of the Rogues, instantly firing his Wormholer.

Miss Kull ducked the blaze of fire from the Wormholer, and it hit an invisible force in the bushes at the edge of the charred and newly created clearing. A grunt was heard, followed by a stealth generator de-activating, revealing a massive, muscular, and heavily armored behemoth of a Minifigure, standing, despite the consistent flow of Wormholer fire.

"Lord Brocktree." Identified Miss Kull, indicating to the Rouge to stop firing. "What are you doing here?" She asked in drab manner.

Brocktree regarded his armor chestplate, now mildly scratched and dented. Then he announced to the 5 arrayed in front of him in a deep and rough voice, "I am on-mission from tehdude himself. You cannot interfere. Leave, or I will make you."

"Well, I too, am on mission from tehdude. . So we cannot leave. What mission do you have?"

"First, you will tell me yours." Said the Super-Sentinel, as he came forward.

Part 2

"Fine." She said, turning her face away in disdain, "it doesn't matter if you know. I was sent to find the survivors of a single Nexus Force Shuttle that was shot down by the Blockade over the planet."

"And? Why have you 'been duped'?" interrogated he.

"First, your mission!" she snapped, looking him in the face. He was much taller, though, and the demand did not have the intended bite. Miss Kull abruptly got the impression of amusement coming off of Lord Brocktree, but it quickly passed, and all she could feel off of him was... Stone. That was why she had not sensed him, but her Rogues had. She had mystic psychic abilities. They had thermal vision. To her, he had just been a part of the landscape. Another stone.

"How does he do that, I wonder?"

"Very well." Brocktree replied. "As it would seem, we both hunt. And we both find a challenge in the task..."

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CHAPTER XI "Spurred on"

Part 1

Stirling walked along the winding paths of the Calibus Gardens with his hands behind his back. It was early morning of his third day at the Tower and Stirling was enjoying the cool breeze. If only it could cool his mind.

For some reason that Stirling could not place, the memory of his little nightmare was not washing away. Little things kept triggering its memory. A Purple flower. An overreaching tree. A smooth black rock. Not to mention all the terraced mounds that impressed upon Stirling's morbid mind the final resting place for all mortals. . .

He turned a corner, and nearly ran into the Gardener, who had a wagon in tow, full of grass seed bags.

"Oh. Pardon me." Excused Stirling, sidestepping.

"No trouble, no trouble at all, sir." panted the Gardener, continuing his momentum with the heavy wagon.

Stirling resumed his walk, looking back once to see the Gardener open a bag and begin sprinkling one of the many dirt mounds.

Part 2

Stirling continued walking, his thoughts now on the gardener. He wondered if he had any family, if he had any other gardeners or if he did the whole grounds every day, how long he had been in that position, how old was he...?

"Probably not much older than... Father." He considered, as the image of his wounded Father from his dream replayed unbidden in his head.

'You...You were too late' The image said.

"No," declared Stirling. "I will NOT be late. I WILL find you, Father. I will find everyone. I have already found Austin, and soon we will all be home, laughing together around one table. Home."

With this solid decision in mind, he set off to find his brother and his friend. He eventually found them harassing the Cook.

"'Hard work requires heavy food.' How many times have I told you that?" admonished Austin to a flustered cook.

"Like eggs, and onions, and BACON!" mentioned Peragrine from the stove, where he was burning those same ingredients.

"Exactly, as well as-"

"You mean 'Eggs-actly!'" quipped Peragrine.

"That's... What I said." Said Austin, leaning over to look past the Cook at Peragrine. He pointed at the fire growing in Peragrine's Pan. "Pay attention to your own mess, substitute chef!"

"Crime-a-nelly! Yessir!"

Stirling walked into the kitchen, which was in a total uproar of items, edible and inedible. He went straight to Austin, who did not notice him, as he was busy arguing and drilling the Cook on 'what true, hard-working men need for their sustenance!'

When he did notice Stirling closing in on him, he smiled and said, "Little Brother! What brings you to the Kitchen? Breakfast?"

"No. I'm leaving." Stirling stated straightforwardly. "But first I need to talk with you."

"Leaving?" Austin turned to the Cook. "I'll be back for you." He said, pointing a hand at him.

"Hey, Mr. Cook, take over for me. I gotta go too." Said Perry, practically tossing the cook the pan as he ran off after the other two.

Part 3

Stirling, Austin, and Peragrine all stood together in the hallway. Peragrine munched on a biscuit he had acquired on the way out.

"I'm leaving. Today." summarized Stirling.

"Why the change of plans?" Asked Austin. "I thought you were going to stay for a week, to make sure this... Paradox Sorceress... you told me about doesn't find you."

"It's... Well. It's kinda silly."

"I'm king of silly. You're stalling." Said Peragrine, his mouth full of biscuit.

"Ok. Last night, and the night before, I'm gotten very little rest. I keep having these... Premonitions... about the others."

"You mean nightmares, little brother?" Austin asked dubiously.

"Yes. I mean nightmares." Stirling said, rolling his eyes at his older brother.

"You can't sleep, because of nightma-"

"Last night it was about Emily and Peter."

"They're your....Uh. Sister and other brother, right?" asked Perry.

"Yes." Both brothers answered.

"I suppose that would be frightening," conceded Austin. "But your always were one to exaggerate things via your feelings." He added.

"It comes from being the youngest, I think." Stated Stirling, shrugging.

"I wish I could go with you." Yearned Austin. "But as I've said before, this will end our problems more... decidedly."

"And I agree. I apologize for questioning your motives before at dinner." Said Stirling. "Still. I don't see how we will all be able to gather together, if we are all separated in different things like you are. What if you learn of something here, while I am searching all over for them? How will you send word to me?"

Austin agreed. "We need some way to keep in touch, so as to not lose each other just after finding each other again! That would be terrible."

"I wouldn't want to lose you guys again." Expressed Stirling in a quiet tone.

Part 4

Austin nodded, understanding. He placed a hand on Stirling's shoulder. They all bent their heads in thought.

Peragrine stroked his imaginary goatee, and then abruptly began thinking aloud. "It looks like they can use every hand they can get," he observed, glancing sidelong at the irate cook. "Besides," he added cheerfully, "I've never been in a real mine before! I suppose it's not a REAL mine, but it's close enough. I can keep an eye on your brother here, Stir! It'll be tons of fun!"

Stirling and Austin looked at Peragrine. His messed up curly brown hair, and scrawny build went perfectly with his grinning innocent face with bright green, young eyes. He wasn't wearing his armor, but he still had his Nexus Force issue Pack with him. And Stirling knew there was a whole resupply camp's worth of stuff in there.

"Would you be willing?" asked Stirling to Austin cryptically.

"Yes. If you are going home... There are things only the hardened should see." He replied.

"Hardened? Oh..." Peragrine acquired a mischievous glint in his eye." Like steel, Ha! Or Silver, eh? Silverstine secrets, trade secrets... suuuuure! On the down-low, yo..." and he started making all sorts of signs and motions that meant nothing to the brothers, but kept them mesmerized with confusion.

"Quick. Before you change your mind." Said Stirling, entirely joking. "Help me remember the way up to the Keep. Peragrine? Can you help me pack? I brought no tech. Maybe you can lend me some?"

"Absolutely! I've got a prototype Arm Bracer with a mini computer integrated into it, from Mortimer! He told me it's got a -uh, COMPLETELY LEGAL- uplink to the N.F. Database! Paradox level clearance too! He said he tried to get full access once, but then a virus containing tech-Monkeys started cutting all his files and..." he yammered on enthusiastically as they headed upstairs.

Part 5

Between the three of them, and some of the servants, Stirling was packed and ready for his journey in just under three hours. Lady Calibus somehow heard about Stirling's departure, and sent her regards via a grey-haired maid, who also wished him safe travels, and that he may return in one piece. Eventually, he rode out the gate on a solid grey horse called Gregory during the 10 o'clock hour of the morning.

He looked back, and saw his closest brother, Austin, and his best friend, Peragrine, waving from the gate. He waved back, and then faced the Athelas Mountains, and never looked back.

Perhaps he should have.

~ ~ ~ ~ /\ /\ /\ , , , , , ⚡ ⚡ ⚡ ⚡ ⚡ ⚡

 Interlude

"Misstress.  The target is smashed. It took nearly 2 whole detachments, but he's dead."

A Paradox Rouge saluted Miss Kull as she stepped out of the mines, with a comatose greenclad Peragrine over her shoulder.

"Oh? Is that so? Where did you smash him?"

"What is left of hin is right over here, Misstress. Come, see for yourself."

Miss Kull walked straight to the final resting place of her target. The one called Stirling Silverstine. One of that proud clan which owned the finest Mines in all of Morcia.  She did not need the Rouge to lead her there. She saw the residual mystic glow of his recent footsteps quite clearly enough.  Forcing her vision to clear, to see what everyone called 'normal', she saw the delightfully gruesome scene of her target's demise.  

Kneeling down to look closely at the mutilated pieces, she remarked aloud to her coulleages, "Fine work. Very fine work. The only shame is that I can't make out what was the head, or the foot. Very fine work."

"It was necessary, Sir." said a shinobi defensively. "He kept on fighting, even after he had more than a dozen mortal wounds. He just kept on ... Living. Like he thought he could make it off of will alone or something."

"We could learn from that. We should all fight like that." She said, lifting her eyes to the Shinobi.  "Wouldn't you agree?"

The shinobi shuffled irritatedly, then left.

"What about this one?" asked a regular Soldier of Vladek, kicking the dreaming Peragrine laying on the floor.

"Auh, auh, auh," chided Menaya softly.  "This one is mine. I am taking him to the Fortress, for my own purposes." she said, grinning madly.

She stood up, and raised her hand over Peragrine's sleeping form. Then she said, "Yiwkli yiwhtu yimo."

And Peragrine got up, and sleepwalked alongside her.  

Her mission complete, she set off with a fresh group of Rouges for Mount Thunderclap. She couldn't wait to begin tests on the Venture Leauger.

~ ~ ~ ~ /\ /\ /\ , , , , , ⚡ ⚡ ⚡ ⚡ ⚡ ⚡End Part IV. 

Act 5: Silverstine Keep

 Chapter 1: Captured!

Peragrine moaned. He was waking, and aching. What was aching? Well, generally everything. He felt rather droopy, which as his mind began clearing, seemed unusual for him. 

"Maybe I'll just take a nap," he said to himself, and attempted to roll over onto his side. However, something was holding him back from doing so. He finally opened his eyes.  What he saw was not familiar in the least. This piqued his interest enough that his curiosity outweighed his grogginess, and he truly began waking up. 

He was staring at a stone ceiling, but at a odd angle. Looking down at himself, he found, to his alarm, that he was strapped bodily to a sort of table, or easel, which was at a 45 degree angle to the vertical perpendicular. His arms and thusly hands were pinned along his sides. It was not uncomfortable... But Peragrine felt that he had been resting like this for a long time now. Looking around more revealed more old stone surfaces, and the sounds of dismal dripping water. He seemed to be in a large cove of a room which was adjoined with the hall, right in front of him, going out of sight to the left and right. The inside walls of the room on the left and right had small barred windows that looked into other recesses next to this one, but they were slightly too far up and behind him to see through.

Peragrine gasped audibly. "Oh wow! It's a medieval dungeon!"  he realized. "How exciting! I wonder where the-"

Peragrine's excited wondering was cut short and cold by a gut-wrenching scream writhing amongst the stone hallways.

"YAAAAAAUUUUGH!.... AUUUUGH!!..."

Peragrine remained silent, and thought he could hear a raised male voice demanding something, but it was too faint and far away to be sure. Then, another voice, this one very near, spoke.

"Do you hear that?" it said in a soft silky tone.

"NOOOO! AAAUUUGH!" came the distant scream again. Peragrine thought it seemed familiar. It was certainly a male.

The soft, silky voice continued: "That is the sound of ultimate suffering."

"Who is it?" asked Peragrine, making conversation, and straining his neck to look around for the owner of the soft-silky voice.

"Someone of no consequence," assured the voice, as it came from behind Peragrine. Light footsteps were heard, and then Peragrine saw her.

"You!"

"Yes! I! Menaya Kull!" She said in that same soft-silky voice, now sharpened with a hint of delight. She did not have her Sorceress's Hat on, and her black hair fell down around her shoulders.

"Are you going to torture me?!" blurted Peragrine, equally frightened, surprised, and intrigued.

"No. Not like that anyway." She said, casually pointing over her shoulder. "I have something much more sophisticated in mind for you. But enough of that. I wanted you awake for one thing." She walked to beside Peragrine, where she could see every twitch on his face. "Do you believe in magic?" she asked, while staring at him intently.

Peragrine tilted his head away from hers. She was breathing on him. He considered the question for a moment...

"Magic? Well, sure, I guess! That's kind of an odd question for an interrogation, Menaya, I think something more akin to "Where is the rebel base" would have been-"

"Quiet," she said in an undertone, and he obeyed. "This is not an interrogation." She glowered at him for a moment, as if imagining all the terrible ways she could smash him but finding them all boring. "And do not ever call me 'Menaya'."

Peragrine tried to shrug good-naturally, and found that he couldn't, due to the straps. So he nodded amiably instead. "Sure, sure. Miss Kull it is then!  So if this isn't an interrogation, Miss Kull, what is it?" He looked disappointed for a moment. "An interrogation sounded so interesting."

"Stop lecturing me, or I will shoot you, and feed you to Brocktree."

"Does he eat people?"

"Do you really want to find out?"

Peragrine thought about it for a moment... But Miss Kull continued before he came to a conclusion. "

"You are here so that I can draw upon your power to make my power even stronger. All that energy within you is now mine to command. unfortunately, you have to be the one to ca-"

"Energy?" Peragrine echoed confusedly. "You're not making any sense. This isn't very a very exciting interrogation," he pouted. Glumly, he looked around the room. To be a prisoner wasn't exactly nice, but did it have to be so boring too? "Where are the torture devices? If I'm going to be here I want to get the full treatment!"

"I'm not going to torture you!" she insisted irritably. "You little fool! How can you not understand what I am saying? Your magical powers are mine now!"

Peragrine's face truly fell into sadness now. "Oh no, don't tell me this was all a big mix-up! I hate to break it to you, Miss Kull, but I don't have any magic powers. You were probably looking for Mardolf but I'm not him, even if I did dress up as him for a costume party once." He sighed. "Too bad. I actually thought I was going to get the whole medieval experience with the dungeon and everything. I guess you're just going to skip to the beheading now, and I'll miss out on all the fun parts."

Menaya shook her head with a strange look on her face. "He doesn't know," she murmured to herself in surprise, "He doesn't even know!"

"Know what? Did you already get Mardolf?"

"Fool!" she exclaimed. "I tire of your incompetence! If you will not understand words, understand deeds!" she declared, as with the sudden motion of her rapidly raised hands, an invisible force filled the room. She then shoved her hands onto Peragrine's chest, and a ripple of silvery purple gleams ran along Peragrine's body. He gasped.

In that moment, Peragrine Wanderthistle understood. Something like a rush of warm, tingly adrenaline filled every niche of his minifigure frame, like hot apple cider, and as he considered it, he found that he was filled to some capacity with it... In fact, he could feel himself literally overflowing with it... Whatever it was...

"Woah." He breathed. It was MAGIC. For once, the boy was still, waiting for the sensation to pass. 

But it did not.

And when he realized that it was not passing, this sensation that made him feel like a million bucks, his elation began to skyrocket. He began to get the jitters, and was now shaking with sheer delight.

Miss Kull smiled. But it was not a warm smile. "Good. Finally, you understand... Now, do you wish to use that power? How about casting a spell? Would you like that?"

"Would I EVER!" said Peragrine, misjudging the force of his voice.

"Wonderful. Repeat after me." Purred Miss Kull. 

"O, Yepinorgeri Yewiltsohtridne, yeud yehybiri yegvo yemno Yileriht yiniygri yetu yiyau, Yeimeye Yeklla, yese yemsnei yefu yegtfo, yese  yewhto yenu yeirnrat, yerufrivi."

The two (eventually) finished the strange sentence correctly, and Menaya looked at Peragrine expectantly. When nothing happened, she began to frown. Then she blinked twice, and winced as if looking into a bright light suddenly.

Peragrine has also expected something to happen, and when it did not he was rather disappointed. 

"So, what was that weird gibberish supposed to do, anyway?"

"Silence, you fool." Said Menaya rashly. She didn't understand, what was wrong? This language had always work for her spellcasting before... Ah. He must not cast his magic the same way then. He was a different discipline. This was a problem. "Well, time for plan B," she muttered to herself. Peragrine was asking about something or another, but she was past caring. She withdrew an item from her Nexus Force backpack, and held it out in front of her, towards the Venture Leaguer.

"...something solid, that will sit awhile, like a nice slice of Pizza, 'Cause I'd really like something to settle the fizzy feeling in my stomach, before we try anything else. Hey, what's that? Is that a Diamond? Sure looks like a... a.... aaaahh...a deauuu..." Peragrine suddenly felt very empty of body, and against his mounting inner panic, his eyes shut of thier own accord, and he was forced into unconsciousness.

Meaya watched Peragrine slump on the easel, devoid of his bright green glow. Then she glanced at the jewel in her hand. It pulsed brightly with the boy's energy.  

"Until I find a more consistent means of harvest, this will do nicely." She said. Tucking the gem into one of the many waiting pouches on her belt, she strode out of the room, smiling maliciously.

Chapter 2: Not Home

Stirling rounded a bend and stopped to admire the view to his left. He and his rented horse, Gregory, were high up on the mountains, overlooking the plains. Far off in the distance he could see Mount Thunderclap. That ruined the picture, so he continued his ascent.

"The entrance should be right up ahead," he thought to himself. "Remember, Stirling, be prepared for anything."

He guided his horse around the final curve, and stopped. Gregory snorted.

There was the regal front gate. Solid, Strong, Safe.  The frame was made of light gray stone, the double doors made of thick, heavy, wood, strengthened with Iron overlays depicting various scenes.

To others, after the long trek up, it was a safe haven. To Stirling, it was Home.

But it was desecrated. 

Pieces of the fallen lay all over.  Whomever was victorious in this battle apparently had no honor, for upon closer proximity, Stirling noted these pieces had been left here for some time. Perhaps a few months. . .

"Wait a minute." He realized. "Only months? Not years? Then this is a more recent battle!"

Stirling dismounted Gregory, and lead him further into the scene, towards the open, unhinged gate. Stirling noted how there were no weapons, armor, or any other useful items. His face wrinkled in disgust. "They take the time to loot them, but not bury them honorably?  What kind of foul barbarians are they???"

Gregory seemed to share some small bit of Stirling's sentiment, for he snorted and nickered uneasily at the sight of the smashed minifigures.

Passing through the cluttered gate and turning right, making his way to the front door, which lead directly into the mountain, Stirling looked at the faces lying around, all throughout the battle-torn courtyard, recognizing only one out of 10. But every one was a blow to his own head, as memories would flood, concerning that person.  It began to sink in how long he had been gone. . . 

Getting to the front door took a few minutes, as he looked with both fear and hope for someone he would recognize. He was also leading Gregory through the mess, as Gregory was picky about where he stepped, with due reason.  Stirling looked back over the courtyard.

This was not his home. This was his nightmare. All the screams he had heard. Their owners laid all over the courtyard.  But what could he have done? Nothing. He hadn't been here.

"If only I had KNOWN!" Stirling thought, making an pointless grunt of anger as he punched the wall next to the door."...But what would that have done?" he reasoned with himself, not to make himself feel better, but to get a grip.  Nothing came to mind. "Best to keep picking up the pieces... of what... happened."  Stirling looked back at all the unburied minifigures.  He had to do something for them. But what?  His right arm perching himself against the wall, and his left holding Gregory's reigns, Stirling hung his head in thought.

Before much time had passed, a low humming noise interrupted his thoughts.

"Hmm?" Stirling looked up, leaning out to peer beyond the overhang the front door was located in.

The hum was from above, and Stirling wondered what it was. "Could be a helicopter. But whatever it is, it's technological, and therefore probably not friendly!" he realized, gripping his Samurai Bow, and kneeling down to look out farther. Then he looked at the Horse in front of him. Gregory stared at him flatly.

"Get down!" Stirling said to Gregory.

Gregory nickered. He walked under the overhang, and plopped next to him. He looked at Strider again.

"Yes. That will do fine. Keep quiet. I don't like that- yes, that low humming noise that makes your ears flatten." Gregory had just laid his ears back in annoyance.  The humming noise was close. Stirling looked back out. There, coming over the far right corner, something black and dark red, metallic...

"BarneyBots!" Stirling gasped. "It must be one!" While he had never seen one, he had been given a few differing accounts of them from all of the minifigures he had met during his quest thus far. Enough to recognize this one, and the danger he and his horse were now in.

His horse picked up his scent of fear, and glanced from Stirling, to the bot, which was now making contact with the ground.

"Quick, before he sees us," Stirling said, the horror stories told to him by lesser minifigures overloaded his usual caution into fear. He pushed the horse, forcing him to get up hurriedly. "Inside, before he - Err, it, sees us in the-"

His voice was drowned out by the delivery of massive Laser blasts into the stone walls around them. The BarneyBot had not seen them, lightly hidden as they were by the shadows, but rather, it had seen their heat signatures.

Gregory neighed frantically, but had enough sense to headbutt the doorway and move in to make room for Stirling. They stood in a short, small hallway, and since Gregory's girth filled up the left, Stirling slapped the horse's behind, and went right. He remembered something then, concerning the house. 

"Peter? Why don't we have a nice cozy cottage like Duke Sherland from Britay? Or a elaborate Tower like the Calibus Estate? I asked Father, and he only 'pshawed'" asked a very young Stirling, watching his eldest brother, Peter, practice his archery on a target only a stone's throw away.

"Well, Strider, Father has told me it's because it's a Keep first." Peter sights down his bow. " It Keeps things. It Keeps things in..." Peter frown as he hits the fringe of his  target. Reloading, he continues, "And it Keeps things out. Yes!" Peter pumps his fist self-congratulatory, seeing his arrow knock his other arrow loose.

"What good does that do?" mused Stirling, talking about the arrow, as he moved to help Peter lift the target a bit further back.

"Well, the idea is so that nothing else gets in, you already have what you want inside..." Peter explained, assuming Stirling was talking about Keeps.

"Like family."

"Yes, like family.  In Silverstine Keep, with Silverstines defending it... It will never fall!" Peter said, ruffling Stirling's hair, as Stirling handed him the fallen arrows.

Stirling, having run his half of the oval entryway, met up with Gregory where the oval completed itself, in front of an archway leading into a larger room. Stirling suddenly found it difficult to blink back tears.  It was hardly recognizable as the Greeting Room, or Front Parlor.  Pieces of wood were everywhere, and singe marks looked like a mostly completed paint job over everything, to the point where one got an urge to find a lighted  match and finish the job to make it uniform. Stirling stopped in the middle of the room, to shake the mass of emotions assailing him. His vision somewhat cleared, he realized he was facing the remains of a makeshift barrier reaching all along the  far side of the room. Stirling hopped over the barrier, and nearly tripped over something.

More smashed Minifigures. All the pieces simply shuffled together, looted of all gear. No, wait. Here lay a man with a leather Jerkin... But the metal studs had been extracted... "How odd."

Before he could look any closer, a large explosion announced the re-arrival of the BarneyBot. It had drilled its was straight through the front wall, with its energy cannons. Gregory looked behind himself, and screamed, instinctively bucking at the predator.  The BarneyBot rotated backward from the glancing blow, and its unchecked hover-jets sent it back into the wall it had demolished. 

"Good Horse, Gregory." Stirling said breathlessly, though he hadn't fired a shot.  He and his horse continued through the next archway.

They were running through what was once an grand hallway, about two Gregory's head to tail, wide.  The area was unlit, and very dark, making the passage fade into black. Doors to other passages branched out from both sides.  The lighting did not stop Stirling though, for he pulled out a Celebration Wand, which glowed as he supplied it imagination, acting as a glowstick.

"What am I doing here?!" Stirling asked himself, as he turned right into a doorway, which led down some stairs. Gregory cantered after him.

"What did I hope to find???" he reconsidered, as he hopped the steps 3 at a time.

"Where am I going?" he realized, stopping at the foot of the stairwell. Gregory collided into him, and the two stumbled into what was actually recognizable as... A mostly intact kitchen. But that is not what surprised Stirling and Gregory.

No.

It was the Chef.

The chef was a BarneyBot.

"Oooooh Boy, oh-boy, oh-boy! You're just in time to learn about Cooking!  Cooking *bzzt* can be tons of fun!" the bot said, as his arms unfolded to reveal some dangerous looking barrels. "It can also be really, really, REALLY Dangerous!"

Stirling and Gregory split and dove opposite directions as streams of flame engulfed the entryway.

"Neeeigh!"

"Yaah!"

"Be sure to ask your parents!"

Stirling unsheathed his Samurai Katanta, and Knight's Shield, as he crouched behind a counter.

"And remember, sharp objects should only be handled by an adult!" the BarneyBot Chef admonished, as an antenna poked out of it's head, which had an immediate effect on Stirling's metal Katana and Shield. However, Stirling held onto them firmly, even as the magnetic pull became stronger by the moments.  The Barneybot, seeing this tactic as momentarily ineffectual, initiated another maneuver. One of the flamethrowers ceased it's fire, and began rotating faster and faster. Stirling noticed this. "They've got a gatling gun. Of course."

Gregory the horse had slipped underneath a table, but seeing the Bot distracted, the horse decided to try the same tactic as he had on the last metal monster. He had to help the minifigure, after all!  Charging the bot, he neighed with vigor.

Sadly, the horse never saw its success.  The Bot turned to face the new threat, and just then, the gatling gun reached it's top speed, and flared into action.  Not a moment later, the lifeless form of the animal slammed into the lifeless form of the bot, and both landed in the medieval cooking hearth. The brilliantly lit coals combined with the volatile nature of the many weapon systems aboard the BarneyBot resulted in an explosion, and Stirling was flung away from the force of it.

"Noo!" yelled Stirling as he flew through the air. He hit a far wall, and slid down it. Mildly dazed, but not hurt, Stirling peeped over a crate he had flown over. Nothing was left.

Stirling stood there a moment, trying to get a grip. Trying and failing.  What was wrong with him? He felt off balance and emotional.

"Peragrine would be slapping me into submission right about now." He muttered, warmed at the thought of the kid. His cheer was short lived though, as he remembered Peragrine wasn't here to do just that.    

"Well, I have his stuff he gave me to remember him by," Stirling recalled, taking a peek into his many pocketed backpack, where a large separate pouch held lots of techy stuff Peragrine had brought to the supposedly tech-banned world, and then given to him before separating as Calibus Tower. "I wonder how he's faring with Austin."

Just then, another terrific crash was heard, and the ceiling caved in, revealing 2 other BarneyBots, one which was rather dinged up. Probably the one that had been chasing him.

"There you are!" the newer one said sweetly. "I fooouuund you! Now it's your turn to count!  Let me help you! Count the pretty lights!" and it began firing the usual lasers.

"BRING IT!" roared Stirling, as he turned tail and ran down a narrow corridor, followed closely by the 2 BarneyBots.

Chapter 3: Dungeon Time.

Peragrine was having a dream. A dream about family breakfast on the farm. When it was just the three of them, when he was just a little lad, and his Pa had called him bucko, and his Ma had always known what was on his mind. The dream ended with the three of them hugging, as a family.

And Peragrine awoke, with that same fuzzy-fizzy feeling.

"Hmm?" Peragrine took a moment to look around, and the sight of stone walls and ceiling reminded him where he was. "Oh. Right. Creepy BOOOOORING dungeons." He yawned. He felt terribly tired. The fizzy stomach was actually more fuzzy, and made him sleepier rather than energized. He wondered what had changed.

"Well, is Miss Kull here to ask?"

"He... Hellooo . . . ?"Peragrine voiced. It was quite the effort, and he ended it with a long involuntary sigh.  His body had been drained of all vitality, and the world began to fade again as his heavy eyes shut...

Only to snap open at the bone-chilling scream he had heard yesterday... or was it last week? There was no way to know for sure.  More older-voiced undertones.  More defiant sounding younger retorts... followed by more screams of pain and torture.

"Oh, if only I could hear the whole conversation...!" wished Peragrine to himself.  "Like if I had... Super hearing... or ... something"

In the next instant, he felt a rush of wonderful zing that went straight to his ears, and fizzed there.   

He was able to hear the voices! Just as if they were in the room next to him!

"RRRRRAAAAAH! NOTHING! You will get NOTHING out of me!!! NOTH-ING!" came the screaming male voice. It was now very harsh on Peragrine's ears, and they began to ring uncomfortably.

"Well, that is blind stupidity. What if I told you... You Brother is dead?" came a older male voice, with a sort of rattle and hiss mostly reserved for snake imitations.

"Which brother?" the younger voice said with sudden panic.

"Why, the only one here, of course." Said the older voice.  

There was silence... and then...

"HA! HA-HA-HA-HA!!! YOU THINK THAT PERSUADES ME??? NOW I HAVE NOTHING LEFT TO LOSE!!!  YOU WILL HAVE NOTHING!" The young screaming voice howled. NOTHING, NOTHING, NOTHING, NOTHING, Nothing nothing nothing, no-" it repeated continuously over the sound of crackling electricity. . .

Even as Peragrine became more and more curious, the tingling in his ears diminished, and his whole body went lax, utterly spent. He fainted.

| | | | | | | | | | | | | |

In the Dungeon, many days would pass, as Peragrine would regain consciousness, to one different thing or another, only to lose it again. He was eternally tired, and just opening his eyes was a chore. He didn't have any track for the passage of time, save for the cramps he would get for being in one position too long. His mind was fragmented by the constant state of exhaustion, but every once in a while he would gain some fleeting clarity...

| | | | | | | | | | | | | |

The sound of heavy metal doors opening and closing.

Loud booted footsteps, coming closer and closer,

People passing him in the hallway. Armed guards and two unarmed people. One has a very regal look, noticeable even through the mask of pain overlaying it. He has Blond hair and Blue eyes, but the eyes look hollow, and the hair is unkempt and dirty. Sweaty as well.  His shirt is in tatters, and Perry sees scorch marks all over him. Walking behind and beside him is a shorter, sinister man, who brought to mind the word 'Gossiper'. He is wearing Paradox colors, but his most notable feature is the strange bulky gloves he is wearing: They are humming, and a purple light is being emitted from light nodes along the knuckles... The sinister man slows down, and falls to the back of the group. Just before he stops entirely, he turns his head back just enough to glimpse at Peragrine. Then he sneers from the corner of his mouth, and continues on out of sight....

| | | | | | | | | | | | | |

The room was more crowded than usual. He was upside down, facing a wall. It seemed to be he was at the mirror 45 degree angle that he usually was at. He could hear some noises. Bubbling, beeping, swishing, and footsteps and voices.

"...I am glad to be of ...some... use....Well, this is odd." Says the older male voice from earlier. The interrogator, Peragrine realizes.

"Well, I'm still in the dark." Miss Kull's voice resounds.

"Apologies, Mistress. It appears that this boy has a deep connection with his surroundings, whatever they may be. So deep in fact, that it is subconscious."

"That would explain why he did not know it."

"Until you showed him, of course."

"Yes. I am not sure that was the best course of action now..."

"Well, how would you of extracted it from him without him knowing? He would have figured it out one way or another..."

"Possibly. Well, either way, I have another gem for my trouble. Now get back to work!"

"Of course, Mistress."

| | | | | | | | | | | | | |

Booted feet marching awake Peragrine enough to open his eyes. He hears the metal doors opening and closing thunderously, and quite soon they pass by Peragrine's alcove. He sees all of the armored guards roughly escorting a nervous prisoner in fine apparel, who was apparently trying to negotiate a deal, as they half carried- half dragged him along. He had peppery gray hair, and was pathetically thin compared to the minifigures around him. He seemed to refined for his surroundings. Before Perry could find anything else interesting about him, he was out of sight, past the archway. He drifted back to sleep to the fading sounds of the heavy metal doors clanging open and shut...

| | | | | | | | | | | | | |

The table is horizontal, as all tables should be. There is a man to his right, mixing bottles. Miss Kull is reading a big, fat, book on Perry's left. She looks up and says something nonchalant to him, but he doesn't catch it. The man, who was the same man who has sneered at him, though now he wasn't wearing those odd bulky gloves, says something else, and then swiftly turns and injects Peragrine with something. Belatedly, Peragrine considers punching him, but then is distracted by a sudden onset of queasiness. He suddenly feels he had too much Soda, and has to burp badly. Monstrously badly. After trying to fight it, due to having a lady present, he fails, burps quite horrendously, and everything goes black once again.

| | | | | | | | | | | | | |

Silence... The drip-drip that all self-respecting dungeons have...metal doors opening and closing, incoming, Soft quick steps passing by,  more doors opening and closing, receding into the silence... more silence...

| | | | | | | | | | | | | |

...Eternal Silence...

| | | | | | | | | | | | | |

Chapter 4: The End of the Beginning.

Stirling skidded around a corner, slamming himself up against the wall.  He had defeated one of his pursuers by throwing his Powerjouster at it with enough imagination-augmented strength to skewer through it's armor and bring it down, but he still had one left to go, now bereft of his Powerjouster.

And who knew how many more of these were here in his house! 

Stirling took a peek around the corner. He had lost the Barneybot for the moment. Quickly, he now peeked into his backpack for any other heavy weapons. He needed something with some serious bite to get past the Armor that these bots had. The metal alloy the bots were equipped seemed almost Space-Worthy in it's durability. His Samurai bow and arrows had minimal effect, his Katana made nice scratches, and his Broadsword was too slow for the bots surprisingly superior maneuverability.  

"So Non-Faction gear it is." Concluded Stirling. As he considered his options, he picked up and took a sip of his 'Ever giving Goblet',  one of his favorite non-faction items. He untied the large pouch that Peragrine had given him before they had separated. "Come on, Perry. What did ya' give me?"

He was not disappointed. As soon as the drawstring was undone, Stirling's backpack was filled with all sorts of technological goodies. A Boombox, Ripsaw, Riffin' Guitar, a Foreman's Radio, (which probably still wouldn't work out here) even an Imagination Backpack! Stirling was stunned for a moment at the impact it had on his backpack space. Peragrine was quite the pack-rat. And Stirling was glad for it. Now he had some heavy artillery.  He carefully picked out a stack of Pocket Cannons and Firecrackers, setting them within easy reach inside his backpack. He was not sure if anything else might have an impact, since his Nexus Force Gear hadn't.

Stirling peeked around the corner again.

"Where is he?"

The Barneybot that had been chasing him was nowhere to be seen. Or heard. In fact, it was deathly quiet.  Stirling knew that was normal. He was underground after all, inside the mountain.  But there was that something within himself, that told him he was not welcome.   

He hated that. This was his Home...

"Was" being the operative word.

Now it was a disgusting battlefield, home to no living thing, but instead to these mockeries. Unfeeling, destructive... behemoths.

Stirling looked around at the once pristine hallway. It was now blotchy with black scorch marks, chips in the stonework, rips and burns in the beraggeled carpets, and small bits and pieces of unknown origin littered the entire length of the hallway. He looked down further, and saw a overturned side table. It was then that Stirling realized he was next to his Uncle Jean-Claude's Room.

"Hmm! Uncle Jean-Claude's office might have some answers. He was always good with numbers." Stirling remembered his Uncle fondly. He remembered that while his father always took care of problems more so physically, often by traveling to see the issue firsthand, his Uncle had always opted to take care of things mentally, and from a safe and neutral distance. That's why his Uncle had become the personal treasurer of the Silverstine Mines Network. The two brothers had always enjoyed this way of doing things, and it had never changed since. The older, stronger brother, Harrison, would do all the hard, exciting, traveling, excavating, surveying, digging, mining, exploring work, while his younger, but weaker brother, Jean-Claude, would do all the tedious, but relaxing number-crunching, paper-writing, scroll-filing, document-organizing, deal-making, contract-drawing, account-balancing work.

Such a setup was enjoyable for the both of them, and as it was never questioned, it became an unspoken contract.  For they trusted each other as business partners just as much as they trusted each other as family. Unconditionally.

With these thoughts in mind, Stirling wandered to the door, next to the side table, and walked in. 

The room was bare. Completely bare.  There was no furniture at all. But that was not the worst of it.  A heavy Stone door on the other side of the room had a hole melted out of it.

The Silverstine Vault had been ransacked.

"No!" thought Stirling. "That couldn't be!" He ran into the 'opened' Vault, trotting past the empty shelves, where once upon a time had been full of blueprints and scrolls showing formulas for some of the strongest metal alloys in the kingdom. Ways for unbreakable pole-shafts, processes for splintering arrow-points,  Ingredient lists for the hottest furnaces... Maps to various mines... The contents of each... Member lists...

All of the Silverstine trade secrets had been stolen. Compared to that, the fact that all of the Silverstine gold was looted was a simple nusiance.  Reaching the end of the Vault, he turned around and looked back at the hole in the Vault Door about 3 yards away. 

"It's all gone." Stirling realized. "Gone. Into the hands of the Enemy." Stirling sank to the stone cold floor. He stared, without seeing. "Now what???" He had come here for answers. But now there were none. They had all been taken away. "Taken away. By this guy... thedude... HOW I HATE HIM." Stirling realized. "He's taken it all. He's taken the answers...He's taken my Home..." Stirling's hands clenched as the sorrow in his heart began to evaporate in a strange heat that grew as he looked around the room. Even here there were signs of battle, and each deformity in the room stoked the flame in his heart, and turned it into a roaring fire that burned along all of his body, till it filled him. "That ... TYRANT! If he has all the answers... If he has MY FAMILY... He will PAY for TAKING THEM!" His whole body shook with rage. His breathing became rapid and ragged. His arms and legs felt like rubber. His senses became acute, and he suddenly became aware of the dreaded sound of multiple Barneybots hovering as they approached. He heard as they landed right outside the vault.

Stirling no longer feared them.  He despised them. They had destroyed his Home. Now he would destroy THEM.

"I'LL TAKE THEM BACK! YOU HEAR!!!", he roared as he grabbed the two whole stacks of Firecrackers and Pocket Cannons, and stuffed them back into Peragrine's empty pouch. Then, rushing with his Knight's Shield, he slung the whole pouch outside the vault, and plugged the hole in the vault door with his shield. 

The resulting explosion threatened to throw Stirling back against the distant wall, and incinerate him due to the close-quarters, but Stirling managed to hold his footing as the inferno died down. Stirling listened to the silence for a moment, then forcefully yanked the shield out of place. No more Bots. He was about to step out, when he realized the room inside was still infernally hot. All of the surfaces of stone were still cherry red, and bits of metal were still melting before his very eyes. Only then did he notice that the shield had not protected him entirely either, and he had some deep burns where the shield had not aligned perfectly with the hole, and had let some of the inferno through. 

He didn't care. Stirling found a Water sprayer amidst Perargine's items, and sprayed a cool path out of the room.

He was leaving. He knew his misison now.

Destroy thedude.

~ ~ ~ ~ /\ /\ /\ , , , , , ⚡ ⚡ ⚡ ⚡ ⚡ ⚡ End Act V (::::)======>

And End the Quest To Return Home