Fuel for the Fire

Fuel For the Fire, by JamesGinger and Redfiredog6

Prolouge

-

Strider glared into the wind. It was a strong one, and it was in the right direction, but it also came with a warning.  He spared a quick glance at the receding safety of the shore of Britay. Perhaps it would have been more prudent to wait, but after these past two years on the sea, he liked to think he'd seen worse than this coming storm. Hopefully, he  and his skiff could ride the momentum and get to his destination all the sooner. 

He turned away from the wind, and peered ahead, to the north. On the far distant horizon to his right was the northern reaches of Ankoria, that cursed land, where nothing good grew.

But he wasn't going there. He was heading to the far north. Nordland, where he hoped to gain allies in the powerful warriors of North Island. Legend had it that when thedude first invaded the frozen north, they had been able to hold their own against his forces, and eventually routed him. However, in the past year, they had finally succumbed to the overwhelmingly increased  forces of thedude, and their stronghold of North Island was now thedude's northernmost outpost. 

Stirling wondered if their eventual downfall had something to do with hope. Perhaps, after seeing nearly every other nation fall, did the Nordeners not see any reason to hold out? 

He wanted to rekindle that hope.

Tacking the sails yet again, he peered worriedly up at the changing sky. 

Speaking of hope, he had to keep his own up. This storm was promising to be quite a rodeo.

---------

Chapter 1: Why you don't Argue with Enchanters

Kalaren was having quite a busy day. No, there were no attacks. He was busy with errands. From delivering laundry to stomping on wolf spiders, sharpening weapons, making some, and then delivering them to the armory! Tossing a salad for a delectable lunch! Still, Kalaren did prefer this to warfare, as boring as chores may be. Currently, He was feeding the goats, deep in thought. The past seven and a half years had mostly been uneventful. He was now a full-fledged soldier in the rebellion, as he was twenty three by now. 

So deep in thought was he, that the goats were now helping themselves to the hardy hay as he stared into the wind.

Kalaren was brought back to reality by one of the goats bleating. He shook his head before picking up the sack of grain and pouring it’s contents into the goats feed troughs.

He was soon finished and was wondering what to do.

‘I’ll check on Jellyfish and Methuselah, the enchanter to see if they’ve found a way to power our paradox gear.’ Kalaren did so, and started making his way to the magician’s bunker. 

Along the way, he ran along a group of kids playing kickball in the street with a patched up ball Jellyfish had put together for them. He stopped to watch.  

There was Jonny and Blake. They made one team.

Then there was Joshua and Rita. To the side, reading a small battered scroll was… hmm. Kal had to think for a minute. Ah yes, Rosa. She was the quiet one. 

Kalarens thoughts were again interrupted as his face met the kickball. 

Staggering backward, he wondered why his reflexes hadn’t saved him. However, it appeared that the last few years had traded some of those reflexes for pain tolerance. Shaking it off, he chuckled and kicked the ball back to the offenders, waving away their apologies.

The rest of the walk was entirely uneventful as he walked through the rest of Aragarth. 

Several minutes later, he arrived at the enchanter’s quarters. Until recently, it had only been a bunker. It was originally a cellar of some building, long reduced to rubble, though at the passing of Grimoir, the previous enchanter, his replacement, Methuselah, saw to the repair and fortification of the original building. The result was quite desirable for such a resistance. He approached the house’s door and knocked, waiting for Methuselah to answer. He soon heard a voice.

“Who goes there?”

Kalaren had forgotten about how Methuselah was a little too overzealous about protecting this bunker.

“Kalaren.”

“Very well. Do  you remember the password?”

Kalaren sighed. "Drowssap.”

“Very good! Now you put in the key code.”

Kalaren switched the numbers on the tumbler lock they had broken off a briefcase they found previously to the code. The lock didn’t even work, but who’s to argue with an enchanter?

“There, I put it in, could you let me in now?”

“Yes, of course! As soon as I open these other locks.”

Kalaren waited two minutes before he was finished. The door opened to show Methuselah. He had brown hair and a  thick chinstrap beard, along with his piercing grey eyes. He was dressed in a brown tunic, black pants and a navy robe. He had a rank 3 sorcerer's staff, Chosen because he thought he could utilize the maelstrom energy stored inside. Kalaren tried to separate himself from the paradox equipment as much as he could, as maelstrom energy was the same thing that had almost smashed his father. 

‘Vladek beat it to the final blow though,’  he thought, before his thoughts were cut short yet again by Methuselah.

“Kalaren! You should see what Jellyfish and I fixed up!”

“Great! Sure, I will!” 

Methuselah smiled. “Perfect! This will revolutionize our technology!”

Kalaren followed Methuselah through the bunker, observing the layout.

In this large sort of greeting hall, there was a Wormholer and two shinobi swords near the door, and a wooden bridge that was over a pit that contained sharpened stakes at the bottom. At the other side of the bridge, was a mechanism to wind up the bridge. Not only would the tilted up bridge block the entrance to the stairwell behind it(leading further into the bunker,) but it also formed a barrier against projectiles.

He started descending the staircase, noting the portraits on the walls. He knew there was various weapons and triggers to various traps behind them. Other than the portraits, there was a continuing bookcase containing most of the literature of Aragarth, and some weapons and switches hidden among the books, even a secret passage, he knew, that led into the forest surrounding the city!

It was like a typical wizard's tower, but in reverse. And more booby-trapped.

They passed many rooms, with simple traps devised to use little or no electricity, as you could hardly find a power source other than magical energy, which was largely corrupted. Halfway down, they passed through a small  room that Dr. Jellyfish had shown off before, which did utilize some energy. Mostly hot-wired by Jellyfish, there was an airlock that, when activated by one of the hidden switches could shut the doors and the four vents on the roof would release acidic, noxious fumes. 

They quickly passed through that room. 

Kalaren also noticed Methuselah appeared to be distracted, occasionally stopping mid-stride and muttering, before continuing on as if nothing had happened. Kalaren knew that Methuselah was actually multitasking. He had to in order to keep the spell going which kept everyone in the ruined city of Aragarth from being corrupted, though, even with his distracted demeanor, he was also clearly very excited about what he was going to show Kalaren.

They reached the bottom floor as Jellyfish watched several rodents running in hamster wheels trying to get the scraps of food hanging outside of the wheel. Currently Jellyfish was bringing them the small pieces of food and many of them stopped running to eat. Next to him was two wormholers, it looked like one of them was empty of ammo, and the other was bursting with energy. Jellyfish turned towards them and it was quite apparent he was especially excited.

“Methuselah! You brought Kalaren!! WONDERFUL!!! You’re just in time! I’ve finished going over the results from these two wormholers, and I’ve found the common denominator quotients that should correlate across all known Paradox Tech!”

“Eureka!” Exclaimed Methuselah. Kalaren was, as you would imagine, very confused.

“What?”

“Come see!” he cried, waving Kalaren over to the two Wormholers, having completely tossed all of the lunch-scraps to the rodents. Kalaren nodded and came to the table where the wormholers were located.

“Take a look. These two Wormholers were at varying charges , but roughly like 30% and 45% or something. Normally, we’d save these, use them in some fight, and once they were drained, they’d be utterly useless.” he gave a mocking frowny face. “Maybe broken down for parts. BUT! With the power of our combined genius, I and Methuselah have found a way to extract the Maelstrom from any Paradox tech, and inject it directly into another, revitalizing the energy pool, and extending the life beyond the total sum of the original two sums!”

Kalaren’s expression went sour.

“Lovely, we’ll use these things more often.” Kalaren said as he gestured to the weapons. “And what does these animals have to do with it?” Kalaren pointed at the rodents on the hamster wheels.

“Oh, those are unrelated! They are just creating a little more energy. They may be eating more food than they are producing energy, However.” Methuselah exclaimed with a frown.

Jellyfish shared his frown as he mused. “What we really need are electric eels.” 

Kalaren cocked his head slightly to the side. “Electric eels….?”

“Oh yes! When I was sane, and worked in a prestigious laboratory off-world with the Nexus Force, we had electric eels. They were fun to pet.”

Kalaren raised both his eyebrows.

“Oh, and they also powered the laboratory they were located in. Sadly, not mine, but that’s ok,” the scientist continued. “Mine ran on cold fusion.”

“Oh! Then we can power the entire city! We could overload Vladek’s Fort! We cou-” Methuselah was interrupted by Jellyfish.

“Unfortunately, we don’t have the components for either electric eels tanks or Cold Fusion reactors. Come to think of it, I don’t remember what we’d need for a cold fusion reactor.” He waved a hand to the hamster wheels. “Thus, one I do remember, kinetic energy.”

“I see.” Kalaren said. 

“BUT!” He swung his other arm around, nearly whacking Kalaren in the face, but Kalaren grabbed his arm with his robotic arm, and froze, stopping both.

“Oh, sorry Kalaren.”

“It’s ok, I’m the one who should be sorry.”

“Why?”

“It seems there is another technological outage. I can’t move my arm.”

“...Oh.”

They all stood there, awkwardly contemplating this development, which became even more clear as all of the technology around them began shutting off.

“It’s a good thing we can’t afford enough energy to get an electronic lock for the door.” Kalaren pointed out, much to Methuselah’s annoyance.

“But what if paradox rogues were out there? We have tunnels to escape, we don’t need the door to open!”

‘That’s why you don’t argue with wizards,” Kalaren thought. 

They all decided to try and make their way up the stairs, and tell everyone the news of how they could double the life of a maelstrom-powered weapon. Going up the stairs was very difficult as Kalaren’s and Jellyfish’s arms were stuck together. Meanwhile Methuselah stated how it might be nice to get an elevator for the several levels.

Chapter 2: Shipwrecked

The waves threw themselves on board Stirling’s skiff, but he hardly felt them anymore. He was numb to the bone, drenched entirely through, and had absolutely no control of his ship’s course, which, as far as he could tell, was drifting towards Ankoria’s shores. 

In layman terms, he was screwed. However, with himself being the only man aboard, he couldn’t call it quits, no matter how wet and cold he was. So, he was not too unprepared when a tall, rocky, cliff-shore loomed out of the sheet of rain and lightning, threatening to crush him and his ship to smithereens. Fighting both tide and wind, he was able to veer away from a full collision…

But on the harsh sea, even the slightest error was often costly. 

As he turned away from the looming cliffside, he heard the sickening squeal of merciless rock against his wooden hull, and knew that he now had mere minutes before his ship sank. He grabbed the essential supplies in the boat, grabbed the bag Peragrine, his old friend had given him, and the life preserver, (for all the good it would do,) and keeping them close, drove his boat with reckless abandon right along the coast, searching for a cove or beach where he would not have to climb far to find stable shelter. He didn’t find one in time.

“Perry could have done it,” was his last thought.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He woke up with an incredibly dry, raspy throat.

He was lying on his back on some form of sand, he tried to open his eyes, but the sand and sea salt made them sting. He tried to wipe them with his tunic, but that just made it worse, as his clothes were in the same condition.

He decided to bear the pain to take a look around.

It appeared he had washed up in a cave. There was a light up above, and it informed him that outside it had to be daytime.

As he sat up, he gritted his salty teeth as his body cried out as expected. 

“Too bad,” he thought. “It looks like I’m not going to get to rest for awhile now.”

Looking around the cave for an exit, he realized there was apparently none, except for an exit under the clear water, where more light was spilling from.

Did he miraculously go under the water, with his life preserver on, just to bob back up here, safe from the wind and the storm?  

Stirling rubbed his aching head.  This was not a priority to figure out right now. He had to get some water, and after that, it would be beneficial to look for any supplies, and find out where in the world he was.

Checking his person, he was relieved to find his canteen, his katana, (Oh man, that was going to take forever to clean, even with his more waterproof scabbard,) all of his armor, (again, going to need to be cleaned, and soon,) a compass in one of his pockets, the rope that he’d slung over himself, and...That was it, unfortunately. He sighed as he realized that included the pack Perry had gifted him, as well as his samurai rank 3 bow. As well as...

"Crux, Thingguy is going to kill me."

A rejiggered Nexus Force communicator that Thingguy had given him for safekeeping. It was probably at the bottom of the ocean now, beyond reach. Beyond repair. And with it, their only connection to the Nexus Force Armada, just waiting for the signal...

Stirling shook himself, before he could start kicking himself. If he was going to be alive for Thingguy to berate him, he first had to survive and figure out where he was.

Having satiated his thirst with his canteen and taken inventory, he once again looked around to see about getting out. And once again, he only saw the small opening far above him, too small to climb up and out of, and the opening below the water line.

After a moment’s contemplation, he left the life preserver behind, and since he was still quite soaked, he dove into the water and swam out the other side, being sure to keep a tight hold on the rock formation, as the tide was strong on the other side. ‘The tide!’ He thought.  ‘That must've been what got me in there. It must have been low tide during the storm, and by the time I woke up, it’s turned around to high.’  Breaking the surface of the water, he wiped his stinging, burning, salty eyes and looked out. To his right, was sheer rocky shore, with no clear ways up. However, to his left was a sight for sore eyes. A short break in the impassable cliff line revealed a gray-black pebbly beach. 

And did his eyes deceive him, or was there wreckage washed up over there?

Alternatively Swimming and grappling along the rocky formations, weighed down as he was, in his Samurai armor, he made his way to the not-so-distant shore.

A few minutes later, he reached solid ground, and refrained from kissing the ground stereotypically in favor of searching the debris for useful remains of his ship.

There was plenty of driftwood and flotsam, and there was an ill smell of rot on the beach combating the salty air from the sea. Most of the driftwood was far too old to be from his ship, which told him he had not been the first to wreck his ship along Ankoria. Perhaps the curse extended farther out into the sea…?

‘No,’ he thought. ‘I only have myself to blame for wrecking here.’ He had misread the weather, and was paying the price now. He'd challenged mother nature, and she'd humbled him. Now he had no choice but to continue to challenge her, stuck in the wilderness, somewhere.

There were various tools and even some small treasures scattered amongst the old remains of ships long sunk, but most of it was ruined beyond worth by it’s countless time spent in the elements. A spyglass with no glass. A gem splintered into shards. A half  of a map that crumbled to flakes as he picked it up. A grimy dubloon. 

But the greatest treasure of all was…

“Of course. I should have known.”

Perry’s Pack.

Relief washed over Stirling.

Somehow, the backpack had become snagged on a large piece of wood with a protruding nail, and now here it was, washed up on the shore, the waves lapping at the board, like a hand shoving it up onto the beach.

“Perry must have rubbed some of his luck off onto it,” Stirling chuckled to himself, as he released it from the nail with ease and looked inside. On the very top was a towel, with the words ‘DON’T PANIC’ embroidered on it.

Rolling his eyes, he took the sopping wet towel out, and inspected the rest of the gear.

Beyond all comprehension, the large majority of the tech, equipment, and provisions, and most importantly, his rewired Nexus Force communicator, were none the worse for wear, having been protected by the towel on top, and, as Stirling found out, another towel on the bottom of the pack, which had ‘42’ embroidered on it.  He shook his head.

“Wow. Perry, sometimes I think you’re a secret genius.”

After making a last cursory search of the beach, Stirling stepped off, feeling much better about his chances in the Cursed land of Ankoria.

~~~~~~~

Chapter 3: Explaining Maelstrom Revitalization

Kalaren, Jellyfish, and Methuselah climbed up and out of the Bunker, and walked towards the town hall, (Kalaren had been able to detach his arm from Jellyfish’s)  where Matheeas held residence. Over the course of his time as Leader of the Ankorian Rebellion, the Town Hall had become more akin to a war counsel, as most of the planning for Aragarth took place there. Thus was the reason why Kalaren, Jellyfish, and Methuselah were heading there now.

As they approached the Hall, Kalaren observed the defensive layout again. 

There was a lantern hanging next to the door, while on the other side an Ankorian Resistance flag fluttered lightly, displaying a red stripe on the top and bottom, and a orange stripe in the middle, with a blazing sword cutting into a warped evil-looking staff. On either side of the door, groups of outward-facing sharpened wooden stakes made access to the door available to only one or two people at a time. The building itself consisted of old stone.

There was a guard outside of the door, who recognized them.

“Hello. State your business.” He said, sounding bored.

“Well, we just discovered something that will change our way of life here, by giving us the power of electricity for years to come!” Methuselah replied proudly. The guard nodded.

“I’ll let em’ know you got something to work with electricity. Follow me.” 

Methuselah and Jellyfish were getting quite disappointed with their reactions, but nonetheless, they followed the guard inside.

Kalaren noticed a few guards roaming about the main hall, various closed off doors leading to a kitchen, closet, administrative offices… Very few of these areas still served their original functions, instead being converted into whatever was needed, such as an armory, barracks, or in the case of Matheeas, a bedroom, here where he was most easily available. The one room that hadn’t changed much, was upstairs, in the grand dome of the building, which, while mostly intact, had been more carefully repaired to at least resemble what it may have once looked like. The great Council chambers, which Matheeas still used to discuss important matters with his people, and discuss strategies, both domestic and military. They headed to this room. The guard went in, leaving the trio to wait at the door, before the guard came up and let them in, revealing Matheeas leaning over a table with a couple maps, and other officials.

“You wanted to say something about a power source?” Matheeas inquired. Jellyfish eagerly replied.

“Yes! Methuselah and I were experimenting with some of our Paradox weapons! We found out that if you took out the maelstrom energy in one blaster, and put it in another full one, it would multiply the energy! For example, if you added one quart of maelstrom energy to another quart, it wouldn’t simply make two quarts, but five! Then you could add yet another quart, and it would go to nine! Approximately.”

“So you found out a way to power the city?”

“Precisely!” Methuselah stated.

“That sounds great, but what happens when we run out of maelstrom energy to combine with the larger stack?”

“Well… nothing, really, unless we keep using the energy to power the city, which we undoubtedly will. Unless.. we could splice it!” Jellyfish realized.

“How so?” A council member queried.

“If we could slice a part of this maelstrom energy off of the main group, then add it back on, then it would create more!” Jellyfish explained.

“Wouldn’t that be dangerous? If you have too large of a exposure to maelstrom, then you get infected!” Kalaren pointed out.

“Well, yes, you have a point there. But if we could capture a Paradox scientist or someone who worked on a generator from, say, Vladek’s Fort, then we could find out how to build a generator! Or at least discover their method.”

“Mount an assault on Vladeks fort? Are you insane!?!” One of the council members reacted.

“Why does it have to be an assault? We could try to sneak in.” Methuselah said.

“You could also be captured, and interrogated. We don’t have the manpower for an assault, and a stealth mission is almost too risky.” Matheeas said.

“Almost?” Methuselah asked.

“I’m thinking about it. How long could we have power, with our supply of energy?”

“Hmm, I’d say we have enough energy to last fo-JELLYFISH! Ahem, sorry. Enough for one year.

Thank you. We’ll talk it over. Methuselah, would you stay here as an advocate for your idea?”

“Of course!”

“Thank you. As for Jellyfish, you’re dismissed.”

“Very well.” Jellyfish left, muttering to himself.

Matheeas directed his next words at Kalaren.

“Kalaren, it’s yours and Kevin’s turn to patrol the perimeter. You two can choose between your goats who you want to bring.”

“Sounds good, Commander!”

Kalaren showed himself out, and made his way to the stables. As he neared them, he saw a minifig a few years younger than himself waving to him; Kevin.

“Heeey Kal! Whassup!?!”

Kalaren sighed. “Apparently we’re going on perimeter patrol together.”

“Dude, that’s awesome! I just finished my latest song! I can sing it to you alll along the way! In a quiet tone of course.”

“Please no!”

“Cooool. Afterwards.”

“Great.” Kalaren and Kevin decided to mount Kevin’s black goat, Surf. In short order, they headed out of the city. 

Chapter 4: Desolation

Stirling grunted as he climbed. Or was that his stomach growling? Or was it another mysterious creature, watching from below, waiting for him to fall?

“Probably all three,” he groused, as he reached for another handhold above. Three more feet and he would have a clear view above the treeline, to find out where he was in this forsaken place.

The initially positive outlook he had obtained upon discovering Peragrine’s Pack had quickly eroded under the silently soul-crushing conditions of Ankoria. He didn’t remember the details, but  he recalled the reports supposedly stating that there was some curse set upon the land that brought out the hidden evils in all living things, or something like that.

He tried not to think about it.  He didn’t need to, as it’s effects were seen everywhere. Everything was different shades of gray, from the dead trees to the ashen ground underneath his feet, to the stagnant pools of ‘water’ he’d come across in the forest below him. 

He hadn’t seen or heard any animals until just this morning, where he had shot down a deer, but upon retrieving it, he found that instead of antlers on its head, it had an antler-like structure all along it’s frame, as a sort of exoskeleton. This had made harvesting it rather lengthy and difficult, and his efforts amounted next to nothing as the precious little meat inside was either unbearably tough or appeared to spoil before his very eyes. 

Under normal circumstances, he felt that would spoil his appetite. But here, in Ankoria, he found that his appetite was never satisfied. Despite his best discipline, his food-stores were already running lower than he’d anticipated, and what plant-life he’d found to try and supplement it was either bitter beyond imagining, or definitely too sweet to not be poison. Or rotting.

His water reserves were even more desperate. His canteen was nearly dry, and although he had found a small pond in the forest below, where he had filled up a different container, the water was nearly black as ink, and had smelled most foul once boiled for safety… He didn’t want to drink the local water unless times were desperate. Which would be within the week, at his current rate.

Stirling looked out from the peak he had gained, searching for something to orient himself on the map he had found in Peragrine’s pack. There was no doubt he had shipwrecked upon the Cursed Land, but where exactly? As he peered back west he saw the coast. Following the shore north with a pair of binoculars, he perceived that the coast curved eastward, as the the glimmer of ocean was visible on the northern horizon.

“That must mean I shipwrecked on the very northwestern corner of this accursed place,” Stirling reasoned. Checking his map, the only thing nearby according to his map was one ‘Fortress of Lord Vladek’.

“Great. Just great.”

According to this map, Vladek’s old fort was almost due East of his supposed position. Who knew if Lord Vladek still used the old fort. Stirling didn’t intend to find out. 

The only other point of interest within Ankoria, on the map, was the small town of ‘Domead’. It lay far, far away to the south, on the very shore of the Cursed Land.

Stirling saw two options. 

Either head East towards Vladek’s old fort, and Morcia… 

… Or head South towards Domead.

Heading east would most likely be faster, but there was great risk in passing by Vladek’s Fort, as there were rumors that the evil Lord was using it as his private residence when not at the capitol by thedude’s side. However, if this was untrue, there could be valuable resources which would speed up his travel, allowing him to enter Morcia and continue his Journey northward with all haste via the ‘Bridge to Unknown’

On the other hand, heading South was safer. It avoided Vladek’s fort… He wouldn’t have to run into any enemies other than the natural predators of the land… 

But he would have to traverse the entire length and breadth of the Cursed Land. No minor feat, considering his trip so far… In fact… In light of what he’d seen the past few days… The sooner he could leave this wretched land, the better.

East it was.

~~~~~

Kalaren and Kevin had been riding Surf for some time, when Kevin had an announcment.

“I’m bored.”

“Wonderful.”

“What?”

“Nevermind.”

“Hey, I know, I’ll surf on Surf! Mind if we switch places?”

“Yes. I’m going to sit here like a civilized minifig being.”

“Oh, ok! I’ll just do it up here then!” Kevin said as he stood up on the goat and did your typical surfer stance.

“Cowabunga!”

“No don’t! Stop!”

“No, this is fine, dude! It’s like land surfing or someth-”

*WHACK* 

Kevin’s head met an oncoming branch, where he stayed, pushing Kalaren off Surf and into the brambles underfoot. Kevin, after recovering from the immediate shock, realized he had hung onto the branch.

Raising a finger, he said,“This is what Dr. Seuss would call ‘a lurch’.” 

Kalaren groaned as he tried to get up out of the thick prickly undergrowth without making too many tears in his clothing.

“Surf, come back!” Kevin wailed. The goat did not immediately appear to hear him, causing him to sigh gloomily. “Surf waits for no one.” But then the goat stopped, turned about, and began careening back!

“Surf! Come back! Wait, no, stop! No Surf!” Kevin cried, panicked, right before the big black goat knocked him down, to the left of Kalaren. Thankfully, the goat missed Kalaren. 

“Kevin, one of these days you will pay.” Kalaren muttered. as he got up and wiped the dirt and pulled the thorns out of his clothes.” He stared after the goat. “Halt, Surf!” 

Kevin had gotten up and put his hand on Kalaren’s shoulder.

“It’s no use. You can’t stop the killer wave.” He said. But Surf did halt.

“Woah. You killed the killer. You rode the wave. You turned the wind! You are, The Dudeman!”

“One, has it occurred to you that 'The Dudeman' sounds an awful lot like ‘thedude’?

“Well, no but it sounds epi-”

“Two, ‘The Dudeman’ has a challenge for you! Just BE QUIET for five minutes!”

“Hmm.. Ok. I can do both. Instead of The Dudeman, I’ll call you The Mandude, and I’ll be quiet tonight, when I’m sleeping!”

“Both of which alleviate NOTHING.”

“Sure they do! You don’t sound like thedude anymore!”

“I suppose. Come on, let’s get Surf, and continue scouting.

~~~~~

Stirling continued his path eastward, through the mountains. It was slow going, as the land was rocky, craggy, and there was no semblance of any path. Each step disturbed the earth, and raised the grey dust of countless lonely years. It was like walking on a moon. Except, with mountains. And full gravity. In his sandy, itchy, heavy armor.

The next day, he was attacked by something resembling an eagle. Or a Raven. Some hideous crossbreed thing. However, after defeating it, he reasoned there must be a nest nearby. A few minutes and a short climb up later, he found some eggs, which made a decent brunch. He only had to ignore the rotten smell, and their strange green and red yolks. Perry would have said they were ‘Christmas eggs.’

Perhaps they would make a better eggnog than scramble. All well.

Banking his campfire, he hefted his pack, and continued on. 

Chapter 5: The Dreaded Gigfran Eggs

Kalaren and Kevin sat behind a boulder on a small hill that rose above the dead tree canopy.

“It’s a campfire, alright,” confirmed Kalaren, as he gazed through a spyglass.

“Lemme see, Mandude!” Kevin demanded, trying to snatch the spyglass from him.

“Hang on, I’m trying to see the person who made it.”

“You’re too slow, lemme see.”

“Just give it a rest, I-”

“Aha!” Kevin cried, as he successfully acquired the spyglass. Kalaren just rolled his eyes and let him have it. “Now let’s see… He’s cooking something.. looks like one of those gigfran.”

“That’s not a very wholesome meal.”

“Wait, he’s tossing it to the side… He has some sort of egg.”

“Oh no.” Kalaren said, snatching the spyglass back.

“Hey, not cool, Mandude!”

“Just a second… It’s as I feared. Yes, he’s eating some eggs.”

“Oh. Oh no. Not THOSE eggs, right?”

“...”

“That poor, poor dude! We have to save him from the worst tomorrow of his LIFE!!”

“Shh! He could have heard you! Duck!” They ducked for a minute or two before bopping back up.

“Ok, it’s clear now. We can’t go over there because we don’t know if he’s one of Vladek’s agents or a goblin or a dark elf or a dwarf or...”

“Ohh. Good point, Mandude.”

“Would you please stop calling me Mandude?”

“Sure thing, Dudeman.

“That doesn't help.”

“Oh, ok, man, I mean dude. or man. uhh… Bro. Amigo. Muchacho. No, y’know what, Mandude is still the best.”

Kalaren groaned in agony. “Fine! Fine.” He looked through the spyglass.

“He’s putting the fire out. Maybe we can ambush him somewhere, and bring him to Aragarth for questioning.”

“Sure, but where, and how, Bro-haha?”

Kalaren flinched at ‘Bro-haha’, replying, “It depends on if he stays up on the mountains or if he comes down. Hopefully he comes down. That would make it easier.”

“That plan is off the chain!”

“Good to know?”      

“That plan is off the charts! No one but The Mad-dude could do it!”

“My plan is literally to come up with a plan later, and I don’t appreciate your enthusiasm!” Kalaren replied with a sarcastic smile.

“Oh sorry, I thought I was enthusiastic enough, but I’ll try to up my game, like this: SUPER-BROHEMIAN!!!”

Kalaren jumped on Kevin, and covered his mouth. Partly because they needed to be quiet, and partly because it helped him refrain from jumping off the mountain and taking Kevin with him.

A few minutes later, and some more use of the spyglass, they made their way back down to Surf the Goat, and followed the stranger eastward. 

The rest of their approach was silent. Kalaren assumed it was because Kevin was thinking about the poor stranger’s future plight, which involved various… unpleasant sensations.

Kevin shuddered. “That dude has got to be hardcore.”

“Yeah. Might lead to a tough battle.”

“Maybe the indigestion will hit him, and we’ll just have to knock ‘im out!”

“We can hope.” 

Surf’s innate goat agility allowed Kalaren and Kevin to move with near silence, at a speed comparative to a horse’s canter. They were about to exit the treeline when they saw the stranger up ahead, inspecting his compass as he walked. Kevin whispered some commands to Surf before they both dismounted and stealthily made they’re way to a ledge ahead of the man’s path. 

Kevin gave some confusing hand signals, consisting of his two fingers heading down the slope, then turning on their side and pinching his other hand, this hand falling over. then he brought the first hand back and made some wiggling figure movements.

Kalaren assumed this meant that Kevin wanted to go ahead and try to attack the stranger, while Kalaren cheered him on. Maybe it could use some adaptation. But Kevin jumped off the ledge and on top of the stranger anyway. 

Kalaren tried to find a place where he could see Kevin and the stranger fighting, but with them being just under the ledge, he couldn’t aim without the brittle edge sending down pebbles and giving him away. Instead,  he scrambled to the side of the slope, where he could see the stranger.

The stranger was  dressed in rusty chainmail, and had dark brown hair. He wielded a katana, which was raised to swing at a downed Kevin. Kalaren knocked an arrow and fired it at the stranger’s wrist. 

“Gah!” the stranger yelled, dropping his sword as the arrow sprouted from his armored glove. Wasting no time, Kalaren fired a second arrow at his right knee.  The stranger dove for the tree-line behind him, seeking cover, as Kevin charged after him.

~~~~~~~

Tumbling behind the tree, Stirling gritted his teeth as both arrows broke and embedded themselves into his armor and flesh as he moved. Hearing the man running up, he stuck his good leg out, and tripped him.

The blonde landed face-first in the gravel, but quickly rolled over, to receive the swift heel of Stirling’s boot to the same face.

Stirling had to hand it to him, he was tough. If young and inexperienced. Drawing his leg back behind the tree, another arrow appeared where his boot had been.

Stirling looked through his pack, searching for a ranged weapon. He quickly found one of Peragrine’s old Flintlock pistols. 

“Perfect.” he thought, as he loaded it with a satisfying ‘click’ that resounded off the rocks.

Aware he was dealing with an excellent archer, Stirling popped his head out from behind the tree-trunk for a mere second. In that second, he already saw an arrow zooming at his head. He noted the general direction, and ducked back, the whole length of the arrow whizzing past his nose.

“Ooookay.”

Tensing up, he swung out right after the arrow had gone by, and saw his second assailant. A cloaked archer, with bright red hair, perched on an edge half-way down the slope. He fired, and ducked back, as a mangled arrow skittered by his cover.

Stirling loaded the pistol and swung out to fire again. This time, though, no arrow came after him, as his first shot had destroyed the enemy’s bow, and knocked him off of his precarious perch. 

Stirling charged at the archer, firing his pistol and drawing a dagger. The shot hit the man in the arm, and the sound of armor rang out in tandem with the man’s cry of pain.

Stirling dove at the man, intending to pin him to the ground with his dagger, but the man stopped him dead in the air with his right arm. The one that had been shot.

“What on Crux-” Stirling began, before he was rammed into the stone, and then tossed like a doll back into the tree-line, where he landed on the previous attacker.

Fighting to maintain consciousness through the pain, he realized the blonde man underneath him had recovered, and was nonsensically slapping him. Stirling struggled to get up, but before he could, the Archer was standing over him.

“Worthless. Vagabonds!” Stirling spat.

The Archer pulled him up with the same ease he'd thrown him, and Stirling hardly felt the left sucker-punch, as the darkness swallowed him up.

~~~~~~

Matheeas set down the report. “All in all, fairly successful.” Looking up, he saw Kalaren’s relatively unscathed appearance, in comparison to Kevin, who looked like he’d been run over by a stampede of goats. 

“So, where is the prisoner now?”

“In the infirmary. Probably dying.” Kevin pointed out.

“You KILLED him?!” Matheeas exclaimed, shocked.

“No, the gigfran eggs did.”

“Or rather will.” Kalaren amended.

“Oh. Well, maybe I’ll check in on him. Until then, Kevin, you go to the infirmary, rest up, and Kalaren, you go to that Jellyfish. Get your arm fixed.

“Thanks, Commander!”

“Of course, Sir.”

Chapter 6: The Effects of the Dreaded Gigfran Eggs

Stirling woke up in immense pain. Opening his eyes, he noted that he was in some sort of medical facility, which didn’t make him feel any better.

“Oh great. If the highwaymen didn’t leave me, or rob me, they must want something else from me,” he reasoned. Sitting up, he let loose the most thunderous fart known to man.

Naturally, he was quite surprised, and looked around to make sure no one could pin it on him. Unfortunately, everyone had, including three guards stationed around him. He was in a old stone building, patched in various places with wood. All along this room, there were rows of cots on either side, only a few which were occupied by people now staring at him. A nurse scurried over.

“Come with me, sir. You will be needing to use the facilities.”

“Pardon?”

“The report is that you ate gigfran eggs. There is no known cure for the ailment, but considering your strong physical condition, you may not find it fatal.”

“WHAT?”

“Walk and talk, sir.”

Stirling swung his legs out of the cot, and with this sudden change to vertical movement, he found that he did indeed require facilities. Badly.

~~~~

A few minutes later, Stirling felt marginally better, as he sat on the edge of his cot, with only two of his original guards next to him.  Suddenly, someone a few cots down was waving to get his attention.

“Dude! Hardcore Dude!”

Stirling frowned. It was his blonde-haired attacker.

“You feeling better, man?”

Stirling stared him down. Or, attempted to. The blonde young man seem unaffected by Stirling's grave stare.

“Me and the Brohemian saw you eating those eggs, we wanted to help you, Man, but it was to late. Sorry Dude.”

Stirling’s only response was to blink in confusion. 

“I’ve never met anyone who’s eaten those and survived to tell the story. What’s it like?” the blonde continued.

Stirling considered a moment. Others had heard the loud one-sided conversation, and were now looking to Strider for an answer.

“Like eating a mad scientist’s chemistry set.” With this, he unceremoniously heaved. The people around the room responded accordingly.

“Oooh, pretty colors.”

“Look away, honey.”

“Henrietta, could you please bring a towel? Or five?” One of the guards said to the nurse, placing a nearby bucket in front of Strider.

“Ew.”

“Sorry,” muttered Stirling, accepting the bucket. He moved to get off of the cot, but instead of going to the floor to clean up, he immediately dashed off to the facilities. Again. Followed by one guard, yelling at him at first, but when realizing Stirling’s intent, he quieted down and followed the poor ill man.

~~~

When Stirling returned with the one Guard, (The one that had left originally had now joined the other guard in cleaning up Stirling’s mess.) there was a few more people waiting for him. 

There were a small number of soldiers hovering around a core group of 3 people. Two of them wore robes that reminded Stirling of politicians, so instantly, they faded into the background of Stirling’s assessment.   The other one of these garnered Stirling’s immediate attention.

He had black hair which consisted of a full beard, and regular length haircut. He wore a simple white tunic, with blue shoulders and an insignia on the front of it, depicting a knotted sinister-looking staff, crossed with a bright steel sword, burning with vibrant flames, underlaid with three stripes. A red stripe on the bottom and top, and an orange stripe in the middle. Strapped to his side, the black-haired man also had a sword, with a diamond pommel. The handle was fairly simple, steel underneath, with grey cloth wrapped around it. 

Stirling figured he couldn’t take them all on. Not with these infernal symptoms. So he listened as the main  figure spoke.

“I trust you feel better now?”

“Well enough.” 

“Splendid. I have some questions for you...”

Stirling shrugged, glancing at all of the armed people around him. It wasn’t like he had much of a choice right now.

“...Which we will ask somewhere else.” A guard stepped forward with a cloth in his hands.

Upon seeing the cloth, Stirling assumed they were going to drug him unconscious, which, impaired or not, he wasn’t going to take lying down. He dove forward, snatching the cloth from the Guard before spinning around and slamming it into the lead man’s face. Following through, he was able to get him into a headlock before any of the guards could recover from their surprise.

Blinded, the lead man drew his sword and deftly flipped it around to stab Stirling. However, seeing the move, Stirling dodged the attack, only to be met with multiple swords and spears pointed at him and his captive.  One of them belonged to the Archer from the forest. Only now, he had apparently come around the corner while these previous events were happening.

“Nobody move, and no one gets hurt,” Stirling commanded, taking control. “This I swear, on my honor as a knight.”

“Knight?” His new captive queried. “What sort of knight?”

Stirling glanced down at him in surprise. Surely he would have succumbed to whatever they’d intended to put him to sleep with. “One with honor, who doesn’t attack travellers for a living, or without reason.” There was a groan directed from the man. ‘Must be the poison,’ Stirling thought.

“And this is relevant, how?”  The man said.

Stirling lifted the cloth from his captive and checked his eyes. Totally clear. And annoyed. He squinted at the cloth. It appeared completely normal.

Slightly embarrassed, he wondered if they’d only meant to blindfold him.

Slightly confused, his grip on the man loosened marginally. “I’m sorry, wh-”

His captive took advantage of this to drop his sword, reach up for Stirling’s arms, yank, and flip him in front of him. 

Landing flat on his back, Stirling landed with a solid thump, accentuated by gas. Various pointy tips were set at his throat.

“I can answer questions like this,” Stirling said. “Just don’t move me.” He pointed at the now discarded cloth. “I thought that was a means of knocking me out, I apologize.”

He heard the lead man’s voice.

“Maybe if you don’t try to harm anyone else here, you may be forgiven. Where do you hail from?”

“Morcia.”

“Interesting. Who are you aligned with? Vladek, Thedude, or some rebellion?”

“Before I answer that, could you answer that same question for me, since you already have me dead to rights?”

“And then you gain our trust and run away, telling our enemy gathered intel?”

“It is so romantic that you think I want or need your trust. I’m simply travelling through.”

“Through Ankoria. Sure.”

Stirling shrugged as best he could from his position on the ground. However, it was ruined by an escaped toot.

“You’re specifically trying to be aloof. If you won’t answer that, then answer it later. For now, tell us where you got this.” The man said, raising a sword.

It was his samurai katana. That meant they’d gone through his stuff. Typical vagabonds.

“If you’re wanting more like it, I’ll tell you that’s not possible.” 

The man raised his left eyebrow and looked at the katana. 

“What, this? why would I want a Nexus Force Sentinel rank three Samurai issue Katana?” He said as he turned back to a neutral faced Stirling.

Stirling took a moment to study the people around him. None of them looked like Nexus Force. They were all battle ready, more or less. They had a variety of ethnicity, and most of them were very grim faced. Their gear was largely of a medieval make, though there was the occasional Paradox Rouge item. How did they know what Sentinel gear looked like?

Stirling decided that, no matter what their morals were, they were clearly not allied with thedude. This made it very unlikely, but not impossible, that they were not allied with Vladek either.

“I am against thedude.” he announced abruptly. 

The leader nodded, though somewhat surprised at his sudden answering of the previous question. “Are you allied with Vladek, then?”

Stirling shook his head. “Before I answer that, I would like to know your alignment.” The man seemed somewhat disappointed, but did reply,

“We would be foolish to answer that, but if you won’t answer that now, then we will ask you this: Where did you get this sword?” The leader said as he gestured to the katana again. 

“It should be clear enough, if you’ve rifled through my belongings,” Stirling growled, becoming irritated with his position. “I was with the Nexus Force, in a past life.”

“So you come from offworld?”

“I hail from Morcia.”

“How did you get to the Nexus Force, and how did you get back here?”

Stirling rolled his eyes. “You want my life’s story?”

“Actually, that would be preferable. In detail.”

Stirling shook his head, brushing the blades away with his gloved hands as he made to get up. “Nope, that’s it. I’m not accepting your ‘hospitality’ anymore.” 

The one who had been questioning him shook his head in frustration.

“Hank, procedure two.”

Hank, who was a nearby guard, said,“Yes sir!” Stabbing Stirlings left shoulder, and hitting an artery. 

“GAH! CRUX!” Stirling glanced down and noticed the man, ‘Hank’ had thrust so hard as to go through his mail. And by the excruciating pain, he might have nicked a bone.

The leader spoke up.

“Henrietta, how much time does he have left?” he asked, addressing a nurse.

“Approximately five minutes before he bleeds out, Sir.”

“Well, there you have it. We can treat you if you answer one of the questions, stranger.”

Through gritted teeth, he looked up at his antagonist. “It’ll take more than that, moron.”  Seeing his own blood, Stirling’s fervor was stoked, and he slowly stood up, a hand over his wound. Many people around him grumbled and muttered darkly.

The man, who had picked up his sword by now, looked Stirling in the eye.

“I said answer one question. I suggest you do so.”

Stirling spat at his feet. “You are without honor.”

“And you called ME a moron.” The man muttered, before looking back up, taking a step forward, and continued to talk. “I, am Matheeas Lancaster, and I just might be the most honorable knight here. I have killed countless, for the sole purpose to save countless. All you have done here is condemn yourself to death.”

Already, Stirling felt the cold touch of death as his lifeblood spilled over his chainmail. But he gave Matheeas a smile. “I would be lying if I said it was a pleasure to meet you, Lancaster. But I appreciate knowing who it was that killed me. Know that it is Stirling Silverstine whom you have slain, and that you will answer to Sir Thaddeus Thingguy the Second,  if he ever finds out thy hand in this.”

With this, Stirling collapsed amid rippling murmurs.

Matheeas closed his eyes, and facepalmed. “What an IDIOT. Henrietta, please try and save him. Hank, go get the Doctor.”

“Hardcore…”

“Kevin, shut up.”

=== Chapter 7: Poisoned, Assaulted, Maimed, Treated, Stabbed, Treated Again, and  Prison Time. ===