Epic Adventure!

[Cyrus the virus]

((Open to anyone, anytime))

Luc walked the lonely dirt road between Falrenia and Kilran, his eyes set to the horizon and his mind set on adventure. He thought back to his early days outside of Raiaera when he first began to understand his powers, when he would join forces with any old warrior to search out the nearest cave or ruin. It had been a long time since he'd encountered a good dungeon-crawl, and it was with the intention of finding one that he entered Falrenia, a kingdom on the mainland.

Relatively small in comparison to cities like Radasanth, Falrenia didn't give Luc the impression that most folk nearby got when they first entered. Townspeople roamed the streets and talked to the few vendors available, but it was nothing like the hustle and bustle of Radasanth's market.

"Mutiny!" He heard someone cry, and when he turned to regard the voice, he barely spotted the fleeing form of a man going down a street.

Mutiny? In such a small kingdom? Luc wondered, and though he was quite tired from his journey, the Geomancer broke into a trot and followed the man's trail.

"Bring out that damned King!" Demanded somebody, as Luc came to a large group of townspeople who stood at the edge of the castle's moat.

"He ain't my King!" Cried another.

Shouts of "bring down the drawbridge!" broke out, though their demands went unanswered.

"What happened here?" Luc asked, and a few people actually turned to see him. The looks on their faces remained furious, and they brandished weak-looking weapons.

"The King's a fraud! He takes our taxes and gives nothing in return. He kills anyone who argues with his decisions, so we've started a mutiny! He can't kill us all, or other nations'll take notice and come get 'im!" One of them explained.

Luc frowned, knowing undoubtably that no other nation would care, and the King of Falrenia could simply do as he pleased. But there was nothing he could say, as the roaring of the crowd continued and several things were hurled across the moat to hit the drawbridge.

"Fire! Get fire!" The screams rose up, and before long, arrows were lit ablaze and sent soaring through the sky.

Luc's eyes widened, and raising a hand, he extinguished the flames before the arrows could hit. With loud thunks, the arrows slapped into the drawbridge, but did not burn it. Baffled voices rose up, but nobody had time to truly question what had happened...

From the top of the castle, arrows began to rain down. Luc guarded himself with a shield of wind as men and women before him collapsed under the barrage. Screams of pain and rage rang out, and Luc extended his shield to cover them all.

"He's attacking us?" Someone asked.

"Of course, he's a greedy old idiot!" Someone answered.

And above all the noise, a woman looked Luc in the eyes, saw the ease in which he held the shield, and pleaded with him. "Wizard, please... He is not a worthy King. He has powerful monsters he uses to control us, and we're dying with him in charge."

Luc sighed and nodded. "Get the townspeople away from the castle, and I will go in to confront him."

"No!" Someone hollared, and the townsfolk all turned to look at him. "This is our fight! Nobody's gonna fight it for u-"

"Ssh, Glenn." Someone interrupted. "Let him go, he may have the power to save us. We'd only get in his way."

Reluctantly, Glenn settled down, and one by one the townfolk got up and began to walk back to their homes. With the threat of the arrows gone, Luc let his shield dissipate.

"Gettoutahere, stranger!" One of the archers from above called. "Nobody's gettin' in!"

Luc smiled at him kindly, as two blades of wind appeared at the drawbridge, cutting the two sturdy chains that held it up. Chains rumbled and wind rushed as the bridge fell, slamming hard into the dusty ground before Luc. Dirt kicked up and hit him, but washed away as a gust came and wiped him clean. He stepped onto the bridge slowly, deliberately, and began to make his way across.

"It's a one-man mutiny now. King had better be ready to explain," he said to himself.

[Culix]

Several minutes before Luc's arrival, a small, purple-haired boy had been pacing by the side of the castle moat, wearing a small path into the grass. He looked very deep in thought, an odd expression for a boy his age. Suddenly, his brow unfurrowed and a look of triumph spread across his face. He faced the wall, threw a finger in the air and declared, "Ahhah!" A few of the nearby craftsmen glanced at the boy, but they did so more out of reflex than the belief that this shout would be followed by anything other than the dead silence that had come after the other twenty-six exclamations they had heard over the past hour. One of them was planning to get a pool going once the lad reached thirty.

The boy would normally have visited the small kingdom purely by chance, as he wandered around without direction. However, this time, his presence was no mere accident. Or, more precisely, not an accident of geography. Shortly before leaving Radasanth, the boy had stumbled into a cloaked individual at a pub. The man, having first briefly gawked at Jannin's appearance and then heard the coins clinking in his satchel, had then spoken in a dramatic and ominous tone about how he and the boy were destined to meet, and that their meeting was one step on the youth's path to greatness. So intrigued, the boy had hung on the self-proclaimed seer's every word.

Jannin learned that there was an object in the Falrenian vault known as the Box of Arod'Nap. The box was an artifact, said to bestow great power upon those who open it. According to the stranger, the king had received some of this power, and then selfishly denied it to any others. As part of destiny, he told the boy to go to Falrenia and liberate the box, receiving his portion of the bounty in the process. Jannin typically put little stock in babble about destiny and fate; the only reason he gave the man the time of day was that he spoke of Jannin's eventual success, the only thing of which Jannin had ever been truly certain.

And that had brought Jannin to his current predicament: How in blazes do I get inside!? When he realized that the answer was not immediately forthcoming after his twenty-seventh dramatic utterance, he began to grow frustrated. Maybe I should just give up, was a thought that never crossed his mind. He had invested entirely too much time and energy with his pacing to quit, and the price of the artifact's information had been fairly expensive. Rather, the asking price of the artifact's information had been astronomical; the boy had claimed the requested sum was too meager, claimed to be going to fetch some more money, and then skipped town. The child could live with himself because he reasoned the man was aware he was taking part in something momentous; to the boy, that knowledge, combined with the honor of being lied to by Jannin, had to be worth at least a hundred gold pieces.

However, while surrender was certainly not an option, he was growing a tad irritated by the endeavor's difficulty. The lad grew more irritated still when several Falrenian citizens began shouting things and hurrying to the drawbridge. Noisy... Jannin mentally whined, not quite making out what they were saying. Failing to tune them out, he sighed. Oh, what I wouldn't give for some outside force to solve this problem for me... Around then, Luc brought down the drawbridge. Jannin stared for a moment. "... That'll do nicely," he said, smiling to himself and approaching the entrance.

[Tal'Ethurak]

Falrenia. Just saying the name brought a bad taste to Tal’s mouth. This “bustling metropolis” was the capital city of the kingdom of the same name, which was unfortunately afflicted with the exact state of mind that seems to run rampant within kingdoms of all shapes and sizes. The good citizens of Falrenia were of the opinion that they deserved rights and that they were too intelligent to follow the laws and customs that had been in place for hundreds of years which held the kingdom together; for instance, paying taxes. In this opinion the townspeople were sorely mistaken. They whined and moaned, complaining of the high price of a bushel of wheat, the shortage of livestock, the obscenely hot weather that they had to endure two summers ago.

When will they realize nobody cares?

The populace of Falrenia had the brilliant idea of overthrowing their king. However, these ingenious men and women of the kingdom cleverly overlooked the fact that the king had many things that they had not. A smile appeared on Tal’Ethurak’s face as he reviewed the current scenario under his breath, stalking through the dimly lit corridors of Falrenia’s castle on his way to the king’s audience chamber. “The King has weapons, a castle, archers to man his walls, and a great supply of grain. These revolutionaries, if they can even be called that, have pitchforks and bad breath. Let them yell at the walls all they wish, nothing is going to change.”

All of a sudden, the Rynathurian’s path was blocked by two large men in full armor who had crossed their pikes across the doorway Tal’Ethurak had been heading towards. The guard on the right spoke first, his voice muffled by his lowered visor, but not even the veil of polished metal could mask his stupidity. “I don’t know who you are, but you can’t come in. The King has given orders that only the Scaled One may enter. Come back tomorrow.”

Tal’Ethurak stomped his foot in frustration. “You dunce, don’t you recognize me?” The lizard-man reached up and threw back the hood of his cloak, revealing his flattened head, narrowed eyes, and his scaly visage.

“Sorry, sir, the King is expecting you.” The two guards lumbered out of Tal’s way and he hurried through the double doors, eager to leave the two men behind him just in case their stupidity was contagious. He emerged at the very end of a bright red carpet, cleaned spotless and leading up to a massive throne of gold at the other end and the man who sat on it. This man, the King, eyed Tal’Ethurak with a condescending air of superiority, and although the cleric resented this pompous fool who held the kingdom of Falrenia in his pudgy hands, he steeled his hatred and put on his best I’m-a-diplomat face.

“Your Majesty! I heard you were looking for me?”

[nekoprince]

It was relatively often that Lypine would be out and about, nowhere near his home. Almost every time this was the case, however, for once he wasn't away on business. not that he complained much, he liked his work. Then again, it was also what he was best at, often cracking bones to get someone to do something for his employer. He chuckled, walking along.

"Falrenia," he said aloud, rolling the word around his mouth as he continued walking, his ears perking as he heard some sort of commotion in the distance. He had never been there before, nor had he even heard about it until the week previous, where someone gave him a job to perform in the country. The job in this case was to find some sort of sacred sword only found in Falrenia.

Lypine returned to him three days later with a steel longsword bought down the road and got nearly five hundred gold in return.

He continued grinning as he thought to himself how gullible the man was, deciding to use the money to visit this Falrenia. He, someone who traveled relatively often, had never heard about it. He doubted many other people had as well. It wasn't like it had many exports, or else there's be something. From what the mercenary could gather, it was a tiny country with king almost completely isolated from the rest. It was a place where someone could commit a dozen murders, then beyond the country borders everything was hunky dory.

Piercing screams rang through the air, making the werewolf raise his head in time to side step an arrow shot in his general direction. Either his general direction, or at least the large pile of people moaning on the ground a bit in front of him. There were still a few people who were standing, including one who ended up continuing to walk forward and cutting the drawbridge down with some sort of magic. It didn't take a genius to figure out what was going on, judging from the direction of arrows and symbols on anarchy painted on signs.

"Hey you're a fighter right?" A woman's voice said to the werewolf. He looked over, almost startled to see a nearly unharmed older woman standing near him. He hand was covering the minor wound the arrows had done to her before the wizard ahead of him. Lypine nodded, and someone else joined in, tugging at his long sleeve quickly. "Can you go after that guy? Please? We'll let you have the some of the kings treasury, after we get enough to re-build our town."

"Wait, what?" Lypine stepped back, his bag swinging a bit. "I came here to relax, not to otherthrow some government!"

"Please?" someone else said. "the man is evil, he took my crops and salted my fields. My daughter is dieing because of him! That mage up there is gonna get killed in moments! We need someone to stop the king!"

"You're not gonna stop until I do, are you? Fine, I'll do it," Lypine said aloud, stopping only to grab two things from his bag before tossing it to the relative safety of a random passer-by before following at a distance behind the wizard with the cape. "Keep that safe, I'll be back."

[Ter-Thok]

Despite the fracas outside, it was quiet in the castle throne room, a monument to plush red fabric, covered with enough gold to make a dragon sigh heavily and go into stamp collecting. The chubby king's beady eyes, though still as haughty as ever, seemed somewhat glazed. He slumped forward, and a thin bead of drool crept out from behind his swollen lips. The king made a sound somewhat like "flumble", and began to snore on his own massive, well-garbed paunch. There was a chuckle, and the tiny form of the demon Ter-Thok stepped out from behind the throne, a masterful grin plastered on his small, red face.

"I don't think that his majesty wants to see anyone right now, my reptillian amigo. You see, the king is deathly ill, unfortunately. And his medication tends to have a deleterious effect on his capacity to rule." Deathly ill meaning, of course, 'drugged out of his fat little head'. The demon flashed his brilliantly white, sharp teeth at the newcomer, and stepped further into the light of the massive golden chandelier. "Lucky for him that I happened by, isn't it?" Ter-Thok nudged the king, who let out a massive snort, then settled his dribbling, jowelled visage on his other shoulder.

"I offered to run things for him while he's...incapacitated. Any business you have with His Majesty Von Fatassinov, you can take up with me. Heheheh." The demon grinned, running once again over his plan of action: rake in the taxes, live it up, and when the whole thing goes monkey-shaped, throw the fat king out as a scapegoat, pawn all the gold and magical crap, employ the more pliable of the king's monster army, then scarper off into the night with a Hans-full of cash. "The name's Ter-Thok, official of the Demonic Republic of the Third Quadrant Galaxy; and you are?"

Without taking his eyes of his visitor, the demon's tail wound around, of course, a golden pullchain, ready to give it a tug, at the slightest provocation, and summon an entire platoon of goblin crossbowmen.

[Cyrus the virus]

As Luc entered the castle's first chamber, a high ceilinged stone room of massive proportions; he cast Stoneskin upon himself, a green barrier surrounding him tightly. At the far end of the decorated room, he saw a pair of massive statues, iron warriors that were... Mobile?

"Living statues" he said, baffled. "Is there any manner of magic that doesn't exist in these realms?"

The statues, though roughly 8 feet tall and half as wide, moved surprisingly quick, coming across the room in second. Behind them, two more emerged from the next room and behind them another pair. Six statues, each brandishing a different massive weapon, and each with orders to do away with him. "It seems the castle has a natural defense system. So advanced for such a backwat-" he began, but before he could finish the thought, footsteps from behind him changed Luc's focus.

He spun and saw the one following him, a boyish looking one with hairy shins, odd looking hands and strange ears. Luc's first thought was to attack, thinking him a monster like the others, but something about him was so... humanlike. Instead of weaving an offensive spell, he leapt far to the side -- and just in time, as the mace of one of the massive statues came crashing down where he had just been, breaking the floor into a thousand unrecognizable pieces.

Luc reacted quickly, as the ground just in front of the statue shook and warped, and a fist of dirt broke through the tiles, slamming the monster in its chest and sending it reeling. Dented, but not done by a long shot, the statue rushed at him with mace held high, with the others closing in fast.

"Watch yourself!" He warned. "They're quicker than they look, and won't stop until they're completely destroyed."

Luc leapt to the side once again, rolling desperately as the statue's mace wooshed overhead, slamming into the castle wall and breaking a portion of it apart. Falling bricks threatened him, but Luc was able to deflect them away with his magic. The statue began to approach again, but Luc went on the offensive, launching one of the falling bricks into its weapon arm, knocking it clean off from the impact.

But even that could not stop the relentless statue, as it lumbered forward.

[Tal'Ethurak]

The Third Quadrant Galaxy sounded like some kind of very important kingdom, but it couldn’t be that important because Tal’Ethurak had never heard of it before. Perhaps it was in Salvar somewhere? The figure that claimed to be ruling in lieu of the king was definitely not human, so he…or she (Tal couldn’t tell) must be a native of this strange kingdom.

While he was thinking this, Tal’Ethurak continued to move closer to the throne. He passed many sets of stone statues on either side of the red carpet, ancient images of the current king’s ancestors that looked as if they trained to strengthen themselves every day of their lives, and had no time for sitting in a throne and listening to the petty complaints of the everyday people. Each figure was at least seven feet tall and each bore a different weapon. One, a heavyset man with a horned helm, wielded a hulking mace that was bigger than Tal’Ethurak’s leg. Another, a tall and skinny man with a neatly trimmed mustache and a flowing beard, brandished a spear at all who dared pass before him. It seemed that the rulers of Falrenia chose to wield the weapon that most resembled themselves, mused Tal.

Finally past the ranks of staring stone eyes, the cleric reached the base of the throne. The short red figure stood directly in front of him, holding with its tail the golden chain that Tal’Ethurak knew would summon guards to take him away if he made any wrong move. The short one had introduced himself and now it was Tal’s turn.

“Hello Ter-Thok of the Third Quadrant Galaxy, wherever that may be; I am Tal’Ethurak Yetuni, chosen one of the race of the Rynathurians, leader of the order of the raven, head of the Black Temple in Salvar, and the avatar of His Dark Majesty Mortusil, the immortal sovereign of death, disease, decay and many other pleasant things. Pleased to make your acquaintance.”

Tal’ Ethurak paused just long enough to take a deep breath and fix his gaze on the face of this “Ter-Thok” before continuing. “The king of Falrenia has been an honorary member of the Sign of the Raven for many years, and his generous donations to the temple were not unnoticed. Recently his majesty requested that I come and visit his estate here in the middle of nowhere, and being the affable guy that I am I accepted. I’ve been a guest in this castle for a week, and now the king has left you in control without even introducing us! Hardly the behavior of a good host, and his soul will pay eventually for the offense.”

Suppressing a snicker, Tal’Ethurak dropped his voice to a normal volume, no longer speaking as if giving a monologue to a deaf man. He also abandoned the pompous tone that he had been using, ready to speak frankly to Ter-Thok.

“Enough of the political mumbo jumbo. I don’t care for this kingdom and judging by the state of the king, neither do you. I have more influence than anyone but the king in this castle, and so I ask you frankly, Ter-Thok, what’s in it for me?”

[Ter-Thok]

Ter-Thok's grin widened, and he actually added a few notches of respect for this lizard-like organism. "Heh, how refreshingly direct. Well, Tall Ethel the Yeti, let me tell you what just might, should you play your cards right, be in it for you. But first, gimme a second." The demon turned to the pool of shadow behind the throne and shouted, "Hans!".

With a lurch of active, the massive ball of inexplicably sentient, red ooze that was Hans undulated into the light. He blinked his massive, blank black eyes for a moment, then somehow spoke without the apparent assistance of a mouth. "YES, BOSS? WHAT BOSS WANT WIF' HANS?"

"Take the king to his quarters, Hans, if you don't mind. And give him another happy-happy cocktail if he starts muttering words more complicated than 'burble'."

"DAT NOT BE A POR-BLEM, BOSS. HANS WHAT PERSON MIGHT CALL 'AN RESORZE-FOOL JENNELMIN'. JUS' A SECOND." With that, the seven-foot gumdrop inched towards the throne, and extended four thin, gelatinous tentacles, which wrapped themselves brusquely around the king's bulk. With a single tug, the rotund man was yanked, unprotesting, directly into Hans' mass. The ooze wobbled a bit, then beamed proudly. He nodded to Tal'Ethurak, then undulated off into the next room.

"I hope my employee Hans didn't unsettle you, Mr. Tattle-tale Esther Axe," Ter-Thok said, grinning wildly before tossing himself gracelessly into the king's vacated throne. "Please, have a seat." Before his guest could complain that there was nothing to sit on, the demon pressed his finger against a rune engraved into the throne's armrest. One of the massive former king statues jerked, then reached its free hand up into the rafters, producing a fairly comfortable armchair and a heavy oaken desk, which it laid in front of the throne, before returning to the plinth and freezing once again.

"Pretty snazzy, huh? So far I've only figured out how to make 'em do that and do a fair impersonation of the Chicken Dance, but then I've never been a fan of magical crap anyways. Science always beats it in the end. So, Mr. Tanning Ethereal, what is in it for you? Well, let's see...I think you're probably bright enough to realize that, yeah, I drugged the king. It was really easy, too; that hog will shove anything in his mouth if it has enough honey-glaze. The point is that, as you so insightfully divined, I don't give two d'korblat's stench sphincters for this fine example of feudal dumbassery. But the point is, while the king and his lands may be about as politically valuable as chickenshit in corn chowder, he does have a lot of this planet's preferred currency, which I have...uses for. Comprende, mi amigo?

"So here's the skinny, Mr. Tail Ettercap; you don't have quite so much pull around here as you presume, seeing as how the king's been bumped down a peg by yours truly. However, no-one ever said that I wasn't a generous demon. So if you help me keep this operation running smoothly, I'm prepared to slide you a cut of the resultant funds. We won't even have to tell this Block Temple of Salivation about it at all, either. However, if you don't go along with my scheme...well, I'm sure we won't have to consider alternatives, will we?" The last of his speech was said, oddly enough, with quite a cheerful expression, and not a hint of potential malice.

Ter-Thok liked to put people at their ease.

[Culix]

As Jannin approached the drawbridge, confident that nothing would stop him from going any further, something stopped him from going any further. Specifically, the arms of a large man, whose great abundance of white hair on his face seemed in compensation for the distinct absence atop his head. "Deleus!" the man exuberantly exclaimed as Jannin felt himself plucked up in a manner he didn't much like. He liked even less when the man began to spin him. "Gwaaaaaah!" the boy screamed while the hills, huts, and castle began blurring together. Then, in a manner just as sudden and unprovoked as the lifting had been, the man set him down. "Deleus!" the man exclaimed again. Hoo... Jannin thought, I've got to remember to declare that illegal...

"Jules!" scolded a nearby woman with dirt-flecked hair, "You can't just swing around some random boy to celebrate getting help from two foreigners! ... We save that for the harvest festival."
"But it's not a random boy!" he responded, pushing the befuddled lad towards the woman, "It's Prince Delius!" She knelt down and looked at Jannin's face, both to see for herself the evident similarities and, more importantly, to ensure the lad was still with them. "That's ridiculous," she answered, "The prince was sent to Concordia eight years ago for schooling."
"I know!" came his cheerful reply, "And he hasn't aged a day!" He patted the lad on the back. In response, Jannin deliriously sang a small mantra he'd prepared for himself a few years before: "The sun goes up, the sun comes down; one less day 'til I put on the crown."
"He's even singing his favorite song!" Jules cheered enthusiastically.

"Jules... I know you miss being the Prince's attendant, but--"
"Hold it," a man with a bandanna cut her off, joining the conversation after a moment's contemplation, "Maybe there's something to this..."
"Oh, come on, Jerald," she sighed, "You're not buying into th--"
"Hear me out, Paula," he said, displaying his penchant for interrupting her. "The boy does look an awful lot like the prince did when he left. And the king's seemed pretty out of it lately, hasn't he?"
"Well..." she conceded, "He did have a bad habit of calling me 'Fred' when he came out a couple of weeks ago..."
"Exactly. If nothing else, it's worth a shot. ... Well, as soon as the kid's thinking straight enough to understand this."

The kid had actually been thinking straight long enough to make out their conversation. Although still struggling with his orientation, his mind was busy whirring away, working out the best application of the good fortune that had fallen into his lap. "Are you alright, kid?" Jerald asked him. About as alright as one can be after enduring the Thousand Mile-An-Hour Merry-Go-Round of Death, he chose not to say. Instead, Jannin woozily told the man, "Y-Yeah... I... I'm fine..." He attempted to demonstrate this by taking a few steps, but found to his chagrin that his movements seemed limited to stumbling in small circles. Confounded sense of equilibrium... Right yourself!

"Good," the man replied, smiling. "Well, you've heard about our problem, right? The king's being really, really unfair to everyone. But you can help us." Jannin waited until he felt confident enough to speak a full sentence before answering, "Right. I understand. I'll pretend to be Prince Delius, and then convince my 'father' to be more reasonable towards all of you." Which I may or may not do after I've looted the vault, he quietly added, suppressing a giggle. "Err... Yes," Jerald said, surprised such a small boy had so easily grasped the plan. "You always were a swift one, Deleus!" Jules cried, beaming with pride. "Good luck," Paula added. Jannin smiled and gave the gathered villagers a thumbs up. "Just leave everything to me," he said cheerfully.

The lad then turned around and finally set foot on the drawbridge. However, he only successfully set the one foot on the wooden planks. In mid-step, Jules decided to return to his original occupation and decided on his first act of duty: forcefully escort the prince to his father without asking for permission. "Don't worry, your highness!" Jannin's unexpected minion assured his passenger as he charged into the hall, "We'll be at your father's side in no time!" The miniature mage opened his mouth to protest, but decided against it after a moment's thought. His feet were still a little tired from all the pacing they'd done; so long as he wasn't being treated like the spiked ball on a morning star, he didn't mind a free ride plus a detour. Besides, there's always a chance the guards won't be quite this gullible. A little muscle couldn't hurt.

[Tal'Ethurak]

The rapid succession of unsettling events that occurred in such a short period of time left Tal’Ethurak, well…unsettled. A desk and chair of fine workmanship falling from the ceiling to give him a place to sit, a giant blob of sentient jelly that could talk. The cleric was secretly glad that he was sitting down, for if he were standing he most likely would have staggered at the sight of the gelatinous goo. He didn’t let his unease show, though, judging this short inhabitant of the kingdom of the Third Quadrant Galaxy or wherever he came from to be a shrewd negotiator.

“Ter-Thok…If you don’t mind my changing the subject for a moment, what flav- I mean, manner of creature is that red ooze you called Hans?”

Tal made himself comfortable in the cushioned armchair that had been provided with his desk, leaning back and putting his hands behind his head while lifting his feet and crossing his legs on the top of the wooden monstrosity before him. There was a rustling of cloth and the sound of his clinking chain mail was barely audible as he shifted his weight in the chair. He looked up at the ceiling of the huge room, noticing for the first time an elaborate series of paintings that displayed the history of Falrenia and its rulers, and just as suddenly noticed he didn’t care about them. Still in the reclined position, Tal’Ethurak spoke again to the one called Ter-Thok.

“Well, short one, it sounds like we have an agreement. But what portion of the spoils – what did you call them, ‘resultant funds’? – would I be ‘cut’, as you so colloquially put it? Keeping the operation running smoothly is far too menial a task for a great strategist like yourself, I’m sure, but nonetheless without my help you would be in for a very tough time of keeping this castle under your control. I’m sure you’ve noticed the little conveniences of having such powerful magic around, such as this desk I’m sitting at, but what if these animated statues were to turn against you, to refuse to listen to your commands? You would be lost without my help.”

At this point Tal’Ethurak was lying through his teeth, and he hoped that Ter-Thok wasn’t any better at detecting bullshit than the now-incapacitated king. He knew nothing of this castle and its inner workings, except that they sprung from a source that was much older than the walls of the castle itself. If Ter-Thok called his bluff, the Rynathurian would be forced to fight his way out of the castle, and pray to his god that the behooved midget hadn’t yet figured out how to completely control the statues. In an attempt to cause Ter-Thok’s mind to wander from the negotiations, the cleric asked another irrelevant question.

“And what is this word, ‘amigo’, that you so freely call me? If you’re calling me vile things to my face you could at least have the decency to tell me.”

[nekoprince]

Lypine grumbled as he came across the drawbridge, commenting to himself why on Althanas he had to go and help the mob of people outside. He moved swiftly, pulling up the sleeves on his shirt slightly as he did so, showing his hands to the world. The thought made him grin, he was often dubbed a monster for having the two furry things, but they were well worth the stares when they were seen. For one thing, he's be dead without them.

The elaborate room that seemed to extend forever above him was one thing that this castle wasn't entirely bankrupt, the same went for the banners that were hung along the sides. The real thing that did it however, were the six metal statues all converging on the wizard he followed. He grinned as the wizard gave him warning, the sudden crash that follwed making the exquisite mosiac that was the floor an artiest's broken dream.

Without bothering to reply the the qizard he run forward, claws gleaming the the light filtering through the windows in the side. The fighter leapt into the air, landing on one of the armor statues that was so focused on the wizard to notice him. He let a smile of victory touch his face, rearing his arm back jabbing the claws on his hand through the reletivly thin iron metal of the statues helmet.

One of the staue's metal arms came up, swating the werewolf to the side as if he was merely an annoying fly. Lypine hit the ground hard, a clang follwing as he did so. Doing his best to keep his eyes open, he rolled too the side, avoiding the spear that was thrust towards him. He stood again as quickly as he could, pushing the helmet that was stuck to his claws off. He darted to the side as the spear came at him again, as well as two other statues becoming interested in the fighter.

"I don't suppose you have a way to completly destroy these things, do you?" he asked. He backed away again. trying to figure out a plan of action that didn't involve his body being cut or broken in half. "Or at least cutting off their legs or something?"

[Ter-Thok]

Sitting quietly for a moment, the demon made sure he had the entire previous conversation straight in his head before speaking. "Well, first and foremost, Hans is what you might call my right-hand...sentient quasi-fluid organism. I met him in the forest after I landed my ship, and he seemed an amiable enough...thing, so I employed him. I even pay him. Or, I will at some point in the future. And I give him a place to stay, and all the food he can eat, so it works out. Speaking of which, I think I have a job for the big lug right now. Hans!"

The ooze shuffled in from the portal he had previously exited through, and stood, or more accurately, congealed to attention. "YES, BOSS?", he said in his booming voice.

"Hans, I think that the guards let in another catapult salesman or something. Those crazy statues sound like they're smashing the place up again. Would you mind going and turning them off?"

"HOLE CARP, NOT AGAIN! HANS JUS' CLEAN DAT FLOOR," the ooze muttered as he undulated off to the main entryway.

"Well, now that that's taken care of, let me make something clear: I don't, even for a moment, buy the idea that you know how this stupid castle works. Nobody else seems to, why should you be any different? Hell, there's this skeleton wizard who lives in one of the towers, and when I asked him, all he did was cackle and say that it was 'an magick older e'en than meself'. Stupid-ass undead mumbo-jumbotron." The demon made a mental note to push that particular castle resident down a tall flight of stairs.

"However, I'm willing to concede two things; first, you are from this planet, and probably have a much better understanding of magical monkeyshines than me. Second, you also seem to be at least two notches higher in the brain department than anyone else in this castle. So here's the deal; you help me keep these things from going haywire, and I'm willing to give you no less than thirty percent of the final profits. The place creeps me out. I'm pretty sure that the whole castle is probably on some kinda...I dunno...universal rift or something. Whatever it is, it can't be good." Ter-Thok had been direct, but still, something seemed...unanswered...oh, yes.

"Oh, right. Well, Tanya Sue, the word 'amigo' simply means 'friend' in the some human language. Humans, eh? I simply wanted to establish a repoir between us, if we're going to be entering into some sort of business association. You understand me, right, Tell-Tale Esteban?"

- - - - - -

Upon entering the main hall, Hans was greated with a sight of absolute chaos. Statues were broken, bricks had been shaken loose and scattered about the room, and there was big hole in the floor which the ooze did not want to think about. He sighed, and shuffled over to a large tapestry, no different than any other hanging around the chamber. Hans extended a pseudopod, lifting a corner of the intricate wall-carpet and revealing a strange symbol. The ooze pressed it firmly, then dropped the tapestry. There was a glow, and the statues froze momentarily, then simply turned and walked back to their posts.

"YES, DEMS VERY BAD STATUES! LOOK AT DIS MESS, OH, HANS NO CAN HAB NICE TINGS. SUCH AN SHAME," The ooze shook his central mass in disappointment, then moved to the center of the room. "HANS NOT KNOW WHO YOUSE JENNELMEN IS, BUT HANS TELL YOU DAT IF JENNELMEN WANNA SEE DA KING, DEN YOUSALL IS SADLY TOO LATES. DA KING GO TO SLEEPY-TIME BED-PLACE. HANS TINK YOU PORBABLE CAN TALK TO HANS' BOSS, MAYBE. PLEASE, WALK DIS DIRESHUN" The ooze extruded a tendril, gesturing towards the throne room.

[Cyrus the virus]

Luc rushed back, trying to put distance between himself and the now one-armed statue that was closest to him. The one who had followed him in was asking him something, but Luc only caught portions of the words, though he thought he got the gist of it.

The statue came at him suddenly, speeding up and lowering a hand to crush the mage. Luc leapt up and had a powerful updraft catch him in mid air, lifting him high enough so that he couldn't be reached by the statues. He lifted a hand, breaking a huge spike of dirt from the ground, and thrust it forward to impale the dented, one-armed statue. The impact lifted the guard off of its feet and into the far wall, where it ceased moving.

"Answer your question?" Luc asked.

He turned to face another statue while he still hovered, and extended his hands toward it. A loud, whooshing sound began to echo through the chamber, as powerful winds began to push against it. The force was not enough to cease the statue's movement, but as blades of wind began to appear and slash at the creature's armor, it became clear that Luc's intention was not to slow down the statue, but to destroy it immediately. Blades nicked at the armor, occasionally knocking pieces of it off completely to fly backward in the wind, and before long the statue crumbled into pieces.

Exhausted, Luc let the wind die down. Before he could lower himself to the ground though, he was struck by a massive, soaring pike that one of the remaining statues had thrown. He flashed a brilliant green for a half-second as his body was knocked into the far wall, which brought another flash. Finally, he tumbled the long distance down to the castle's floor, and a final bright flash filled the room.

Remarkably, Luc rose quickly and without pain. His Stoneskin enchantment had absorbed all three impacts before disappearing. Without it, there would have been no way he could have survived.

"Too close," he muttered, as he began to think of a way to stop the remaining statues.

Before he could mount another offense, however, the mobile statues suddenly stopped. An eerie, ooze like figure spoke to both he and the strange-looking one (and how normal he seemed right then), beckoning them to the throne room. Luc had a slight urge to kill the being right there, to end its strange existence, but his general confusion and willingness to get the day over with stopped him.

"This castle has the makings of a mage's carnival. I suppose I'm too involved now to just leave."

Luc gave the oozy creature the most vile, disgusted look he could as he passed.

[Culix]

Well, this isn't so bad, the boy thought, dusting off his left arm from atop Jules's shoulders; Jannin was up there because his self-proclaimed body guard had quickly decided that dragging the young man along the ground wasn't quite the best way to guard his body. As they passed beneath the exquisitely engraved stone arch, the lad was vaguely reminded of a pony ride he had been persuaded to take two years before. Looking at the reflection of the sun on the back of Jules's head and the man's thick, white beard, it was all Jannin could do to keep from crying, "Hi ho, Silver!" which he'd heard was common practice in some distant land.

Suddenly, his 'mount' released a high-pitched scream and then ran through the main hall, skidding to a halt before the ruins, debris, and eclectic procession. After hurtling from zero, to what he judged to be eighty, back to zero again, Jannin noted that sudden starts and stops seemed to be Jules's trademark. At least, he would have noted this, had the movement not robbed him of his senses. The large man seemed to realize this might be a problem and, concerned, held the 'prince' before him. "Are you alright, Deleus?" he asked. "I like a sugar coat on my raspberry cream..." the boy mumbled vacantly. "Ahh," Jules said with a nod, oblivious to the lad's delirium, "We'll get you your favorite food once this is all sorted out." Setting Jannin down in one of the small craters the room had acquired, the self-styled guardian returned his attention to what had brought on the charge, changing gears from 'cooing and beaming' to 'ruing and screaming.'

"Gah! King Alendrian Pontessa du Merrial the Seventh!" he shouted toward one splintered statue. Towards a one-armed sculpture, he cried, "No! King Relera Cuma Gara the Twelfth!" Spying another, Jules gasped and rushed to the base of an earthen spike and fell to his knees. His face a mask of horror, he looked up at the metallic man who had recently been impaled on it, limbs swinging in a futile attempt to follow the rune's commands and return to its proper podium. "King Flibble Blah Blee the Umpteenth!" Jules shouted hysterically. Had Jannin possessed enough of his wits to properly think, he would have vehemently accused the man of making things up. As it was, the lad was content to rock from foot to foot at regular intervals.

Jules put a stop to that, returning Jannin to his shoulders. "Oooh," the large man said with a fiery glare and a twitch directed towards the hall's three other occupants. "Damnable intruders!" he shouted at them as he bolted towards the throne room. "To defile the Statue Collection of Great Falrenian Rulers... Let's see what the King has to say about this!" Around that time, Jannin began to come 'round. After he'd worked out where he was, his first thoughts were something along the lines of, I'm beginning to suspect the prince left Falrenia for reasons other than education...


--- ~~ * ~~ ---

Coincidentally, the prince then returned to Falrenia for reasons other than education. With a gray cloak draped around his head and slender frame, he smirked as he stepped into town. The young man chuckled as his steps stirred up the Falrenian dust. "The likeness was remarkable," he whispered, closing his eyes and visualizing the boy, a perfect reflection of his childhood self. "Fortune must have smiled on me," the youth added, opening his eyes and raising his head, giving a glimpse of his perse, flowing hair and a glint of his emerald eyes. "Yes," he decided with a nod, "How else would my plan's perfect tool fall into my hand so easily?" He allowed himself another chuckle. "Soon... He who has wronged me will pester me no more. And that which I deserve shall be mine." The young man continued through the village, an air of superiority about him. Who is this mysterious stranger? What is his purpose? The world will soon find out. This, the teenager decided, would have to appear whenever anyone wrote of that day.

Clearly, he was wrong. For one thing, no amateurish tense changes have been committed. For another, the air of mystery he hoped to evoke is conspicuously absent. Perhaps most importantly, the true Prince Deleus would have rather it not be mentioned that gazing upon the castle brought back traumatic memories of his treatment at Jules's well-intentioned hands, which induced a humiliating panic attack. The odd peasant that glanced at the shivering, gray ball gave it pause for a moment, but then went back to shoveling dung, or doing whatever else it is peasants do.

[Ter-Thok]

In his inimitably easy-going fashion, Hans simply shrugged and followed the men to the throne room. The hall was long, and windowless, with only a few guttering torches for light, at least until the corridor opened up into the royal chamber, which was a good deal cheerier thanks to the candles dangling above in their golden lattices. Ter-Thok, who had gotten up to retrieve some drinks from the golden mini-bar against the right wall, turned around at the sound of the intruders' ingress. To the demon's credit, he barely hesitated for a moment before forcing his face to break into a warm smile.

"Hello, gentleman!" he beamed, "How nice of you to visit the castle of this fair kingdom of, uh, of Fa...Fellatio!" Ter-Thok set the drinks down on the desk and whispered to his original, reptillian guest, "Just give me a moment to dispose of the rabble." Turning back to the newcomers, the demon bore a look of apology. "I'm dreadfully sorry," Ter-Thok intoned, "But I'm afraid the king isn't seeing visitors tonight. He's deathly ill, and is resting in the hopes that it will somewhat alleviate his suffering. However, his majesty has invested all his administrative powers in myself until his disease is, y'know, gone. The name's Ter-Thok, and if you'll excuse me a moment, I'll be right with you. Hans? Can we speak privately in the study?"

The big ooze nodded slowly, before following his employer through the doorway at the far right of the throne. The demon peeked through and grinned apologetically at his audience before quietly closing the heavy, oaken, and above all, soundproof door. In the relative sanctity of the king's study, walls covered with dusty hunting trophies, rusted swords, and meringue recipes, Ter-Thok advanced angrily on Hans. "BOSS, HANS SORRY, HANS NOT SURE WHAT DEY-"

"Shut it! I don't want to hear the unbearably excruciating process of you coming up with an excuse, Hans; I just need you to help me get rid of these nimrods. I managed to strike a deal with the snake-lookin' one in there, but the others will probably be less amenable to cash payoffs. Especially the big one in there with the parasite on his torso; I think he's a villager...hm."

"BOSS HAVE CUNNIN' PLAN?"

"Yes, Hans, yes I think I do. Yeess...maybe if I...hm. Alright; Hans, I have an idea that might kill two birds with one stone. Stay here for now; I'm gonna go out there and try and smooth things over. Comprendes?"

"OKAY, BOSS, HANS JUST SIT HEAR AN' READ DIS BOOK HANS FIND."

"Okay, you huge...wait, what book?"

"HANS FIND BOOK IN HIDDEN BOOKCASE IN KING'S ROOM. IT CALLED...LET HANS SEE..." the ooze rooted around in his bulk, finally producing a yellowed, leatherbound volume, "YEAH, BOOK CALLED 'DA FORBIDDEN FRUITS OF DA WILD WIMMEN OF SALVAR', BY 'RIPMA BODICE'. IT BEST-SELLER!"

"Huh, sounds pretty informative. Well, enjoy that." Ter-Thok waved his hand dismissively, then re-entered the throne room, a big grin on his face. "Well! What can I do for you folks?"

[Cyrus the virus]

Luc walked into the throne room, a dimly-lit chamber that housed a few interesting tapestries and items, but not much else. His eyes drifted along the walls until they fell on the demon that was Ter-Thok, and Luc was suddenly caught between a state of unstoppable laughter and complete annoyance. He choked out a cough-laugh to express this emotion, before settling himself and preparing to speak. His response to the lizard creature was much more obvious, as he disgustedly turned his face away to look at a spot of mucus on the floor. It seemed the lesser of two evils.

"I, Luc Kra-hey!" He cried, as the small demon excused himself for a moment to speak with his bloblike companion, leaving a flustered Luc behind with the others.

A moment of thought passed by before he spoke; "did he say... Fellatio? Isn't this Falren-"

"Well! What can I do for you folks?" Came Ter-Thok's voice from across the room, as the demon-thing came back from his 'private conversation'.

A confused Luc merely assumed that a creature who'd taken over this land knew it's name better than he. "Fellatio does not belong to you, creature, and we will take it back from your reign. I tell you now, give us Fellatio! Give Fellatio back to these people! You do not deserve the Fellatio they built!"

[Culix]

It had been quite some time since Jules had set foot in the castle. So many times had he imagined Prince Deleus's return... The joyous walk through the great hall... Presenting the young man to his father on the throne... Beaming with pride as the boy demonstrated what he had learned in his time away... The attendant was surprised that things were not going as envisioned. Things went even further off course when the guards refused to let him in -- no matter how much he explained the situation -- until the weird, globby thing and the "vandals," as Jules regarded them, arrived. The large man then proceeded to eye them all with suspicion.

Once inside, the attendant was pleased to see that little had changed. Granted, the amount of lucre lying around was a tad more offensive than he remembered, and the solid gold mini-bar seemed a tad out of place, but it wasn't his place to criticize. Instead, he furrowed his brow at the strange, small, scarlet creature. The king fall ill? he wondered, Last I checked, he had an iron-clad stomach and the constitution of an ox... And I doubt he'd put someone in power who couldn't pronounce Falrenia... Fellatio... Hmm... Got kind of a nice ring to it, but... Dah! No need to think about that! Just present Prince Deleus already!

While waiting for the diverse group to catch up, Jannin had been quite bored. Granted, he could appreciate the impressive masonry, but there was really only so long the lad could remain captivated by a large stone pillar. He was then left with his own thoughts, which generally suspected, having spent only a few minutes in the castle, that the only things he would gain from the experience were a number of injuries and a few vaguely exotic nightmares. Finally, Jules entered the room and, after giving a brief nod of approval to the vast wealth about the room, Jannin found something amusing enough to take his mind off such sinking feelings. That something, in case it wasn't blatantly obvious, was Ter-Thok.

As the boy was finally coming to terms with the idea that someone as ridiculous-looking as Ter-Thok was claiming to be in a position of authority -- incidentally, the same general idea others were forced to come to terms with when Jannin told them of his ambitions -- Jules had developed the nerve to lift 'the prince' from his shoulders. When the small, humanoid red creature ducked into a side room with the large, globular red creature, however, the attendant paused, leaving the lad suspended about four feet about the floor. Jannin found the position uncomfortable, but decided to deal with the situation by loosing the laughter he'd been holding back. When the diminutive demon returned, the boy stifled his chuckling.

At this point, Jules cleared his throat. The moment he'd awaited was drawing close. He opened his mouth to speak... only to be cut off by the strange magic-wielding stranger. He wondered if the man had gone out of his way to include the word 'Fellatio' so many times in his declaration. He then shook his head and went forward with the plan. "Presenting," he announced, in a manner he'd practiced for years and years, with a bold, theatric timbre that finally gave Jannin something to respect about his self-appointed guardian, "the return of Prince Deleus Tesla Estera the First!" The boy then found himself with his feet on the floor; the announcement had impressed him so much he was honestly surprised when a trumpeter failed to slip into the room, play a brief fanfare, bow, and leave, purely in response.

Fanfare or not, Jannin was going to take advantage of the superb introduction. "Indeed," he said dramatically, "I, Prince Deleus Elesta... Uhh..." Or perhaps he wouldn't take advantage of it. Coughing, he started again, stepping forward to add a bit of gravitas to his performance. "I, Prince Dele-- Ahh!" The lad cried out as he tripped over the small chest that Jules had apparently set him before. Oh, that can't look good... Jannin silently intoned, as he received a slug's-eye view of the well-crafted throne room tiles. Moments after his collision with the floor, Jules lifted him, set him upright, and gave him a thorough dusting before returning to attention by his side, with a surprising air of dignity throughout all the motions. "Ahem," Jannin tried a third time, "As I say... I am Prince Deleus! And I demand to be taken to my father!"

[Ter-Thok]

The presentation of the young prince had little effect on Ter-Thok; the mage's demands had even less of one; the demon pivoted slightly on his hooves to face away from Luc and turn his attention to the supposed royalty. He gazed skeptically at the child, picking his teeth casually with one finger. "Huh. Well. That's...nice. Sorry, though, I'm afraid your father is in no position to see anyone right now. Like I said, he's, y'know, deathly ill. Odds are very much against him even being coherent enough to recognize you. Which means that I have no way of being certain that you actually are who you claim to be."

A loud groan of creaking stone and metal echoed throughout the throne room. Ter-Thok looked up, momentarily caught by surprise; the largest chandelier was swaying slightly, leaving tiny trails of fire over the room. "You, uh...you guys want a drink? They have that alcohol stuff you humans like so much. You know, the liver poison?" The groaning came again, and a fat blob of wax plopped noisily onto the tiled floor. The demon looked up again, and now his shock was palpable. The arms of the chandelier were writhing like tentacles, and it was gyrating back and forth like a spider dangling from a safety line. One of the golden candleholders twisted itself towards the wall, and flared, sending a chrysthanthemum of flame towards a very valuable portrait. Another candle sent a stream of fire at the now empty throne, and still a third fired directly at Ter-Thok.

The demon threw himself to the ground, rolling to put out the flames that had sprouted on his pant-legs. He stood, charred and glared angrily at the malevolent lighting fixture. "There, see that!" he shouted, "That's why the king's sick! It's the...uh...magical radiation of this stupid-ass castle! Oh, you should see him! Flesh dropping of his bones, teeth falling out, hair growing on the palms of his hands...you good, noble, uh...flatulent people need to help him! Destroy the castle's power source! Or something like that, probably!"

[Cyrus the virus]

He's right! Luc realized. "It's the negative energy of the castle, poisoning the true king of this place. It must be, unless the demon is trying to mislead us," he hinted.

A stream of fire came at him from the chandelier, but it was easily deflected with a slight hand gesture. The flames swerved away from him, striking the bar that Ter-Thok was at only a few moments ago, the impact shattering glasses and melting certain parts of the structure. Luc created a blade of wind in his hand and threw it with force, using his magic to further propell and aim the projectile as it tore through one of the arms of the chandelier. Somehow, though it had no mouth or orifice of any sort, the thing screamed and howled like a banshee.

"Demon! Where would this... power source be? Have you seen any strange items in this castle besides the living statues, living blobs and living chandelier?" Luc asked quickly, deflecting another stream of fire as it came at him. "I'll do whatever it takes for Fellatio, to give it back to the people who deserve it, even if it means destroying this entire structure!"

Before he could get an answer, the carpet below him began to writhe and buckle, violently thrashing and throwing him right off onto his back. It rose up like a massive python to challenge those who had invaded the castle, Ter-Thok and all, it seemed.

Luc drew his dagger and poised to release a stream of flames at the volatile carpet, but hesitated. "Answer me, imp!"

[Culix]

Huh... Jannin thought with a frown, Proof... My nemesis... Certainly, the large man who claimed to be his personal servant and the villagers would tell the ugly, red creature that he was who he claimed to be, but something told the boy it would take a little more than hearsay to convince Ter-Thok. Since he'd lacked the foresight to forge a convincing genealogy, he was forced to fall back on his usual Plan B: look around the room for an easy way out. Let's see... Golden mini-bar, large gaudy banner, piles of vast wealth, portrait of me, thr-- He backed up a bit and verified that his run of good luck had yet to reach its end; a large portrait behind the throne prominently featured a great, blubbery man in regal attire and crown, seated in a throne that must have been incredibly well-designed to support such girth, with a small, purple-haired boy to his left.

Noting this remarkable likeness, Jannin pointed at the portrait as the words, Hellooooo credibility, danced through his mind. A smile briefly crossed his face, but was quickly replaced by a confused look and a furrowed brow at the sound of the loud creaking from above. As Ter-Thok nervously offered them liver poison in response and a large drop of wax landed a few feet away, the boy's concern grew ever so slightly. He then took a glance at Jules; unfazed, the man stood by Jannin's side, staring straight ahead. Whether it was the result of idiocy, senility, or some combination of the two, the man's stoic demeanor had a calming effect on the lad... until the enchanted chandelier set the portrait on fire.

"Dah!" he shouted, as a flame-bordered hole began expanding from the center of the king's face. This might have come as something of a relief, had it not continued to engulf the rest of the portrait. Jannin sighed as he watched his good fortune come to an end, recovering quickly. Well, so much for that... How do I 'prove' I'm Prince Deleus now, though... As the demon suffered a first-degree burn and the mage partially disabled the chandelier, the boy realized an easier way to handle things: skip the middleman and go straight for the goods.

"Jules?" he asked, tapping the guardian on the shoulder while the carpet began thrashing about. "Eh? Whubah?" the man asked, roused from the trance he'd apparently fallen into. "Err..." Jannin began, not sure how to ask. "D'ya think you could--"
"The portrait over the throne!" Jules cried, gazing at the now blackened frame on the wall. "Yes, yes yes, we should all have a moment of silence to mourn its loss come Sunday," the lad told him tersely, rolling his eyes. "But for now, if you want to safeguard the rest of the castle, we should probably find that... power source... thingy and fix it. Let's start looking in the v--"
"--isitor's Rooms!" Jules incorrectly finished for him.
"What? Err... No, I--"
"Yes! The Visitor's Rooms are excellent places to begin looking for virtually anything! Brilliant plan, Prince Deleus!"
"Really, I didn't mean--"
"And so modest! Let us go!" As he was lifted from the ground, Jannin shrugged, heaved a resigned sigh, and mumbled something unintelligible. Jules then leaped over the thrashing carpet and sped the pair of them from the room.


--- ~~ * ~~ ---

The true prince rose to his feet as the false one rose to Jules's shoulders. Shit, that was close... Deleus thought, taking a deep breath. I nearly went mad! he added. The latter thought would be more accurate were the words "went mad," replaced by "soiled myself." Regardless, the prince then cheered up at a certain train of thought: No matter. That little bastard's probably playing his part right now. Heh... So gullible... Just a shame he didn't come back with the money... But that hardly matters. Since he's got the beast distracted, slipping into the vault and taking the Box of Arod'Nap should be a cake walk. Then, I'll finally subdue that behemoth and reclaim my peace of mind! Deleus then chuckled, moved toward the draw bridge, and dusted himself off, assuming both the jello-like feeling in his legs and spinning of the world at large would fade in time.

[Cyrus the virus]

"There's no time," he told himself, releasing a stream of flames from the dagger. The carpet was set ablaze by the searing fire, sending the length of living material thrashing about.

With that done, Luc made a mad dash around the carpet and away from the chandelier, circling the throne and passing through a velvet-framed doorway at the back of the room. Here was a small grey stoned area with a single door, which Luc opened without hesitation.

In the next chamber he found a large contraption of turning gears and sparking machines, none of which looked familiar to the experienced mage. They all seemed to be linked to a center console that consisted of a tangle of wires and grey devices, all things Luc did not understand, but he understood it to be the control center for all the problems the castle was having.

So with a mighty summoning of his power over wind, Luc created a flurry of arrows that rained down upon the device, cutting wires, creating fire, breaking machines. Beneath the rain of arrows, the contraption could not hold to survive. A series of small explosions rocked the chamber as Luc left it, getting back to the throne room to see that all the strange happenings had ceased.

"I... Don't understand," he said. "That thing in there, it was controlling the chandelier, the carpet? It's all very confusing."

He moved to the King, who was still unconscious, and cast his Disenchant spell over him. Suddenly, the man came to, wiping his eyes as if just awakening from a deep sleep. It seemed that a weak enchantment had been placed upon the King to keep him deeply entranced. With a suspicious eye to Ter-Thok, Luc whispered to the King that he should 'do something about the demon', before he suddenly turned and left the throne room.

"What happened?" Asked a woman when Luc emerged from the castle. "You weren't in there for very long..."

"Your King was put in a trance," Luc announced. "In his place, a demon imp was running things. I've lifted your King from this state, and I assume he is going to discipline the creature that put him there in the first place. In a few words... I believe things shall return to normal now."

The woman smiled, and several others seemed shocked to hear the news. But before they could respond any further, Luc suddenly shattered into green wind, which blew away as Luc teleported back to Radasanth, where a night's rest awaited him.

((I'll give everyone 2 days to let me know if they want to post a conclusion or not, if I hear from nobody, I'll submit this for judging.))

[Ter-Thok]

Ter-Thok grinned even as his three lungs pumped to keep him running along the long, gold and stone corridor. He counted off the doors as he ran; Ye Privy...Ye Toyroom...Ye Museum...aha! Ye Treasure Vault. Despite the name, it wasn't so much a vault as a room. The demon was not entirely certain what counted as a vault in a kingdom this small, but the rather tackily decorated chamber that lay beyond probably wasn't it. A single well-placed kick shook the door, the heavy oak splintering slightly. From the corner of his eye, Ter-Thok could see several candelabras were beginning to vibrate towards him. He readied himself for another kick, but the door creaked open to reveal Hans' huge eyes. Several large burlap sacks were clutched in a jiggly pseudopod.

"Ah, Hans, good," the demon lowered his hoof, relaxing slightly, "The it-shay has it-ha the an-fay, ans-Ha. Start cramming treasure into the sacks."

"YES, BOSS. HANS-AY WILL-AY DO-AY THAT-AY RIGHT-AY AWAY...AY!" The ooze shuffled back, revealing to Ter-Thok an incredible sight.

It's true that in an advanced galactic multi-civilization, gold has little value; there are asteroids made almost entirely of the stuff, and even a few planets, which removes any scarcity value. Jewels were not particularly important, either, for similar reasons; the most important thing about them would be the quality of the cut, and even that would largely interest jewelers. However, something about that much perceived material wealth gathered together in one place could touch some deep, primal sensors in the demon's soul.

He grinned, and quickly closed the door. Clambering to the top of the heap, Ter-Thok peered discerningly, trying to spot anything particularly interesting. All the time spent wheedling then drugging that fatass king had prevented him from having much time to inspect the loot. One thing caught his eye immediately; it definitely stood out from all the gold. Ter-Thok picked it up, turning it over and over in his hands. The thing seemed to be made of some kind of clear substance, with a texture very much like coral, and filled with strangely opaque, indigo fluid. It was shaped somewhat like a crown, and was obviously too large for the demon's head. However, where his fingers touched it, the crown began to glow with a pale blue light.

"Something for the display shelf, at least. Next to the Lego replica and the neanderthal skull, yeah, that ought to look cool. What do you think, Hans?"

"TOTELEE SNAZZERS, BOSS," the ooze said loyally, before returning to the process of carefully lowering treasure into the sacks.

This happy state of affairs continued for a few moments, before what sounded like a shrieking cat being torn apart by tortoises; Hans paused quizzically, and voice began to issue forth from the very mortar of the castle's stones. It said, rather obnoxiously, "WARNINGE; CAfTLE CORE BREACHE IN OCCURENfE! YE TREAfURE VAULTE TO BE EMPTIED, NO GOLDE SHALL REACHE YE PEAfANTfE! TREAfURE VAULTE EMPTYING NOWE!"

Ter-Thok felt the rattle of coins and jewelry beneath his hooves, then realized that he was sinking. The demon scrabbled down from the pile, crown clenched tightly in his arms. He didn't slow down until the crunch of gold was replaced with the solid clatter of cobblestones, and even then he turned to watch as the mound of treasure disappeared. It appeared that the pile had been placed in a large conical depression, like a funnel; all that now remained were a few scattered remnants around the edges. Peering over the edge, the demon managed to catch the sight of a ruby as big as a gorilla's fist as it dropped into a seething cauldron of lava.

"Shit," Ter-Thok muttered, "Well, Hans, what did you manage to grab?"

"HANS FILL UP TREE BAG, BOSS. MOSELY COINIES AN' JOOLS. BOSS JUS' GET DAT COOLMOTRON?"

"Yeah, looks like it. Oh well, whatever, three sacks out to be of some use. Damn, what kind of tortoise-raping lardape keeps his treasure over a thing of freaking lava? Man...whatever. Come on, Hans; let's go undermine another small, corrupt fiefdom."

"HOORAY!"

And so the ooze and the demon broke a priceless stained glass window, hopped out in a rather care-free manner, and escaped into the night.

((So, yeah, rewards would probably be however much gold you think could be put in three sacks and that rockin' crown. It doesn't have any crazy magic power or anything, it just looks cool...for now. Thanks!))

[Culix]

Funny... Deleus thought with furrowed brow, Drawbridge is usually up, this time of year... He then noticed the handful of villagers milling around this entrance. Curious, the prince asked a woman, "Wench, what's going in?" She scowled at him a moment, then turned away. After a few moments, it was clear she'd nothing to say to him. He sighed. Clodhoppers... So bloody flippant... Before Deleus could more forcefully demand an answer, the attention of the woman, as well as all the other lollygagging civilians, was drawn by the sound of footsteps across the drawbridge. The prince eavesdropped on the conversation that followed, his frown quickly turning to a look as shocked as the commoners. Father? In a trance? And a demon imp loose in the castle? Before he could demand to know, "What in the nine hells has been going on here!?" the rather unimposing man exploded into an emerald gust, leaving their sight within moments. Deleus blinked. He then raised a finger and opened his mouth to comment. However, after his eyes drifted over the assembled rabble, he decided his father's safety was more important than offering his wit to a few yokels. Thus, he plunged into the castle.


--- ~~ * ~~ ---

"Don't worry, Prince Deleus!" Jules assured his self-imposed charge. "I'll be back in a jiffy!"
"Yep!" Jannin nodded, flashing a thumbs up and a forced smile. "I'll be waiting right here. Take your time." The guardian nodded and took a few more steps into the hall, beginning to approach the throne room. He was doing so after hearing from the little boy that the king wanted to see him right away, and that his majesty wanted the prince to linger in the guest room. Anyone with the least bit of sense would have known the lad was acting. So, naturally, the watchdog took this performance at face value. Can't believe I didn't try that before... Jannin thought as he began tiptoeing back to the entrance. Less than ten minutes before, he'd have never considered leaving without the Box of Arod'Nap; funny how about five minutes' time with Jules could change his mind.

The boy was so relieved to be rid of the big galoot that it took him a full five seconds to notice the shrouded figure, silhouetted in the entry way. Looks familiar... he thought, squinting. After a moment, he recognized the individual as the cloaked young man from Radasanth. Jules completely forgotten -- and not yet in the king's chambers, incidentally -- Jannin quite loudly asked, "What are you doing here? And what's with the cowering?" This latter question was reasonable, as the mere sight of Jules leaving the room had sent the figure into a relapse of his earlier panic attack. Regardless, the lad's questions, echoing off the walls, turned the guardian's head. "Prince Deleus!" the man exclaimed, "You're supp--" But he got no further, as a high-pitched scream from the actual prince tore through the halls. After a moment's silence, Jules looked beyond the little boy; he'd recognize that scream anywhere. Cocking his head slightly, he asked, "Prince Deleus?" The screamer reflected, Crap! He was probably talking to my pigeon before! ... Oh, well. Nothing for it now. Looks like you'll have to have that final showdown before you get the box! You can handle it!

The true Prince Deleus cleared his throat. "Yes..." he said, having rehearsed this moment for many a month. "It is I!" he cried, casting aside his cloak, revealing his chest-length purple hair, a few shades darker than Jannin's, his red cloak, upon which rested a pendant of Falrenia's royal crest, and his sheathed rapier. Wow... Now that guy has taste... the little boy decided, in awe of the prince's dramatic presentation and style. However, though he'd suffered many a head injury that day, he could still see the writing on the wall. Kinda have to feel bad for him, though... he thought as he rushed to the side of a pillar, peering out and ready to enjoy the show. Prince Deleus snickered at this display. "You did an excellent job as my stand-in..." he commented, as he drew his rapier, "But it's time for me to take center stage!" Finally getting into it, the returning royal found his courage returning and smiled. The weapon's point aimed directly at Jules as he began to recite the speech he'd prepared. "For too long have you haunted my nightmares, and tormented my childhood 'maginings! But soon, very soon, shall you--!"

"Prince Deleus!" the elated guardian cried, barrelling down the corridor and catching the young man off-guard. Within moments, he found his rapier clattering by the side of the room and his body caught in a bear hug. "Gulf!" the youth sputtered. "Ah, your majesty!" he cooed. He then rationalized Jannin's presence away with his usual hopeless optimism: "You're so kind! You sent that little version of yourself to keep me company 'til you could get here! The postal service must have delayed it for years, the blaggarts!" He then turned back toward the throne room as the prince struggled for air. "Oh, your father'll be thrilled! Right this way, Prince Deleus!" At that point, he seemed content to release the hold and, with a grip on an arm, let his highness scamper along behind him. "But... Box of... Arod... Nap!" the youth gasped. "Oh, that?" Jules answered cheerily, "We sold it to some rich chap about a year after you left! But that hardly matters! You're home!"

As the pair, one dragging a royal and the other dragging his feet, made their way across the carpetted hall, Jannin heaved an ambivalent sigh. He was relieved, of course, that he was finally rid of the great lummox, but disappointed that he'd come on a wild goose chase. There was more to it, though; Jules's single-minded devotion and... to say the least, eccentric behavior made Jannin feel a little homesick. With the prince's quiet whining at his back, he made his way down the hall. Taking a moment to admire the fine craftsmanship on what was left of the statues and the hall's other ornaments, the lad scooped up the jeweled rapier -- It'll make a nice souvenier -- and smiled. I guess it couldn't hurt to pay 'em a visit, he decided. I mean, I don't have a lead on the box, any more. I might as well drop by until something turns up. They probably miss me, anyway.

So, not disappointed in the slightest, Jannin departed Falrenia and began the long journey home.

[INDK]

This is a brilliant idea for a thread! Its execution was fairly poor, had this turned into a farce, it would have been amazing. As soon as Culix and Ter’Thok were in this, it wasn’t going to be melodrama. Run with it. As is my custom with threads hat not everyone finishes, I don’t really spend nearly as much time on the write up with them as I do for other threads. This is primarily because I feel that since most of the people couldn’t be bothered finishing the thread, I should devote more of my time to giving comments on threads where people have taken the effort to finish.

Total Score= 47

Introduction – 4 Cyrus- I liked the way this introduction brought me right into the action, but the execution wasn’t superb. A great “midway” introduction lets me know something or two about the character in the first post. A few lines of inner monologue or something would have been great.

Culix, Tal’Ethurak & Nekoprince- You pretty much killed the momentum from the initial post by not running with it. The intros weren’t bad, they were just bad for this thread. Each of you needed more momentum.

Ter’Thok- Given the thread, this was certainly a good way of approaching it. Something explaining why Ter’Thok wanted to be where he was would have helped though.

Setting – 5 The problem here was neglecting it.

Strategy – 5 With the exception of Culix, there wasn’t really much problem solving here. Besting Ter’Thok was far too easy for Luc.

Dialogue – 7 Ter’Thok was really funny, though not all the malapropisms were amusing in and of themselves. Not sure if that is something you’re going for (or just general effect) but I wanted to point that out. I did also enjoy what Luc did with the “Give us Fellatio” bit. It was a cheesy joke, but I was particularly pleased with the way you ran with Ter’Thok’s mispronunciation.

Character – 5 Culix was a bit too over the top here. Ter’Thok was hilarious, and most of the other characters never really got going.

Rising Action – 5 I’m not sure how to score this. The thread read well, but it just didn’t build to anything.

Climax – 0 I’m really not sure if there was a climax, and this thread could have really benefited from a farcical climax.

Conclusion – 3 With the exception to Ter’Thok, I didn’t really get much closure from the conclusion. The end of the adventure does not mean the end of the story!

Writing Style – 7 Everyone in this thread was an average to above average writer for Althanas.

Wild Card – 6 I generally score this category low in threads that everyone doesn't finish, but you guys get a bonus point for a hilarious thread title.

Spoils=

Ter-Thok gets 400 EXP, 150 GP and his badass crown.
Cyrus the Virus gets 350 EXP and 100 GP, a gift of appreciative villagers.
Culix gets 350 EXP and a jeweled rapier made out of steel. The jewels are not the fanciest, though they are quite shiny. In total, they add only 50 GP worth of value to the rapier.
Tal’Ethurak gets 75 EXP
Nekoprince gets 50 EXP (note for Thoracis. This character is not the same as the one that earned EXP under the nekoprince account. Unless there is some explanation of it, his EXP total should be reset to zero. The character, Leon Trimyon, who earned the EXP, is now on the user name Artiflex Felicis (http://www.althanas.com/world/showthread.php?t=564).)

[Thoracis]

Rewards Added!