A Comedy of Errors

Part One

The ship hasn't changed, not after even this long. The Sea Hawk's sails are whole, the hull flawless, and it still runs the boughs of the Deep Forest Sea as if it is just another of the countless billions of leaves churning beneath it. All that has changed is the standard at the top of the tallest mast; a banner of purple and gold, of Metaboline. Silk and satin shudder in the first rays of dawn.

Choire isn't awake at this hour, which is fine enough. She can move across the weathered planks undisturbed though she keeps a hood up just to be safe. Walking along she's gently amazed that all the buildings are still here, look to still be open for business. The Golden Lion, The Cracked Skull...all still here. In spite of everything. Then again, the scuttlebutt was that Dantyr was almost untouched by this enormous mess she had made.

She spots the all too familiar ship as she nears the harbor, first catching the standard before making out its silhouette. Her steps quicken, a cool forest sea breeze brushing her face. Another one, harder this time, forced the hood back to let the sun catch in her sable hair just as her foot touched the end of the ship's gangplank. Lifting an uncertain gaze she sees someone walking along the side, she can feel eyes on her now. It takes a moment for her to search her memory until she find's the sailor's face.

"Mr. Riley?" she calls out.

"Aye, and who's asking?" comes a gruff answer.

"Windleaf." she can almost see the shift in his features, one eyebrow cocking sharply upwards.

"That so? Last I heard she died."

She almost grins. "Afraid not."

"So it seems." he squints. "Is the captain expecting you?"

He should be... "He is."

"We'll see about that then, won't we?"

Her heart starts hammering in her chest, her face heating as she watches him turn, gesturing to someone she couldn't see. Her hands clench slowly into fists, sweat forming on her palms as she waits. Though the anxiety doesn't ease when Mr. Riley gives her permission to come aboard. She feels her knees threatening to give with a telling shake as she ascends the gangplank, quietly thanking Riley as she passes him. He watches her briefly before she disappears into the darkness of the captain's cabin, looking equally surprised and dismayed at the sight of her.

The sunlight comes through a large window at the rear of the room, overlooking the forest sea, casting a patchwork quilt of light and the shadow of a hammock across the worn wooden floor of the cabin. At first all Windleaf can look at is the captain's desk, only her peripheral registering the man sitting behind it and looking through the latticework of glass panes. The shaking in her knees has gotten a little worse and she can't seem to straighten her gentle slouch. Then he moves, shifting in his chair, and her eyes snap to the center of his back.

"I honestly didn't think you'd come." there was a sigh in the admission, somewhere. He stands up with a stretch, one arm out and the other bending tight behind his head. Then he turns, but only half way. His dark eyes settle on her. "How safe is it to talk?"

"Are there any mirrors on board?"

"Hah, with this ugly bunch, they'd be broken anyway." he tries at a laugh, though there's no happiness in his face. "But no. In all seriousness."

"Then we should be fine. It's," she swallows, forcing herself to look at the center of his chest and not his face, "it's good to see you again."

Stinger doesn't know what to make of her. Almost nothing is the same. Her body language, her clothes -so unnatural compared to when he last saw her-...it all changed. There was no pride and certainty in the way she carried herself, and her attire; crimson satin dress with gold and silver adornments, all of her tribal attire gone, and what looked to be a mantle of raven feathers across her shoulders. Her once flawless pitch hair had a staggering white streak like he couldn't believe. Yet her face...it was like she hadn't aged a day.

"Seems like ten years has been good to you." he nods towards her as he steps around the desk. Though he immediately regrets the comment when he catches her noticeable cringe. "Sorry...I don't mean to...you want a seat?"

"Please." anything to get her off her shaking legs.

Stinger pulls the chair around, passing it to her with a dip of his chin and making out the almost silent "thank you" she offers. He perches on the edge of his desk and crosses his arms, though one hand twines in the bristle of his beard. He bites his tongue at her visible discomfort. She doesn't want to be here, but she knows she has to. And it isn't even about the risk - she didn't care a damn bit about that- it was the guilt she is being forced to swallow.

"W-where's Harv? Is he..."

"Running an errand for me. Should be back soon. Do you want to wait for him?"

"If it's all right,"

"Sure." he shifts again, sitting on the desk instead of leaning, fingers folding together as he leans on his knees. The cabin goes quiet, though the air is far from still. Stinger feels the buzz of her anxiety like static, the hair on his body bristling. He just watches her for a moment, she still refusing to meet his eyes, and he just knows all those muscles are bunching. Like a spring being wound tighter and tighter, her shoulders start to reach for her ears as her hands hook onto the edges of the chair. Like she's about to pop.

Then, finally, "I ruined everything."

His blond brows peak. "Damn. I didn't even have to say please." a smirk kinks his mouth on one side. "Guess being Archmage isn't all it's cracked up to be after all." And again he regrets his words as she flinches, but a little less this time. She opened the can of worms, now she's going to deal with it.

Windleaf puts her hands to her face. "For Keerg's sake..." the oath is somewhere between a sob and a frustrated heave of words. "You must hate me."

"The thought's certainly crossed my mind, I'll admit," which is only half a lie, "if anything I'm just confused. If you could tell me why..."

Her back bends, her covered face dipping that much closer to her lap. Like she's about to fold right in half. Then she suddenly straightens, looking entirely composed as she laughs a little. "Every reason I've considered has always sounded like an excuse."

"Then give me an excuse."

Finally she can look at him, finally she can stomach the weight of his judgment now that she has been given leave to explain that horrible fuck-up of hers. Her eyes burn a little but she chokes it back. She'd cried enough over all of this, and to do it in front of him would just be...

"I thought I knew better. Simple as that." Windleaf starts. "Somehow I got it into my head that there was better way."

A quiet anger settles into his eyes, the way his face tightens around them. "How could there have been a better way than splitting that bastard's head wide open?"

Windleaf recoils slowly, back tightening against the chair making it creak. "I..."

"We were this. Close." He raises one hand in a sharp twist, his thumb and forefinger almost coming together in front of him. "This. Close to ending this whole damn thing,"

"I know." her eyes drift away again. "I know."

"And then you turned on us." and the words come seeping out with a defeated shrug. "I...I'm trying to understand you, but I just...ten years and I still don't."

"I was weak...ignorant. I was convinced we were immune, that we couldn't be touched. But I was...so wrong."

"What do you mean?"

"The Darg. I thought it couldn't get to us...we were too good, you know?" a brief glance at him. "But it wasn't true. And I should have known."

Stinger's eyes widen and he doesn't say a word.

"It was my ego. That's how it got in. Just like Hokum, it played me." her fingers curl into fabric across her thighs, hard. "For one second I believed I had all the answers...and one second was just enough time for me to destroy everything we all fought so hard for."

Stinger stares at the floor, brow furrowed now. He scratches the back of his neck and takes a deep breath.

"Some part of me thought I would be more satisfied...if I beat Hokum at his own game. As ridiculous as that sounds. Just...had to prove I was smarter than him. Instead I,"

"You just became part of his game." That was the truth of the matter. No ifs, ands, or buts. All the rumors were true, Windleaf had stabbed them in the back and become Damon Hokum's Queen of Crows. As some called her on Khelestra anyway.

There would be no stopping Hokum after that. They failed. After all of the fighting and bloody misery the lot of them had plowed through to get so far, it was for nothing. From there the madness spread to all corners of Arkos and Wyldern, the Etherwell was reopened and the Darg came and went as it pleased. The faces of both worlds were changed forever.

And all because of her.

"I think about it -even now- and it doesn't make any real sense." Windleaf shakes her head. "I shouldn't have believed it could work. Not by a long shot."

"Well...that's how the Darg operates, isn't it? Make a shit sandwich look just good enough to buy?"

Her brow quirks, the expression taking her a little by surprise. "I...I suppose so."

"But, like I said, it seems like time has been a bit kinder to you."

Another flinch and she looks at him again, just now noticing the mark across his left eyebrow. That, and the hard lines around his eyes, like he is twice his actual age. He's only... maybe thirty-something.

"Hokum cast a spell...guess he's still holding out hope I'll agree to be one of his wives." she almost laughs at the idea, probably would have if it wasn't true. "But...please don't take this as evidence that it hasn't been difficult for me."

"Not at all. It's in your eyes." He could always see that, since they met he could see it. "So you really are his yes-man now..."

"More or less." her posture deflates. "He gave me what was left of Mannheim's powers...don't ask me how." And the request wasn't out of not knowing. Windleaf knew, she just didn't want to say. Hokum had tricked her into consuming human blood. She hasn't been able to even look at a bottle of wine the same way since.

"I guess that's where you get your name then?" Stinger nods, hiding a shiver at the mention of the man's name. "Then he sent you to the Magic Academy?"

She nods in turn, pushing fingers through her hair which isn't in its usual braid, but loose. "You know the rest."

"I know enough." He knows more than enough. He knows all the towns that have been decimated by the second wind of Hokum's takeover. He knows Karillon has been under siege off and on for the last decade but still holds on by a thread. And he knows that he's been working his ass off trying to save what he can, his efforts allowing Dantyr to go nearly untouched. Nearly.

Quiet settles in again, longer this time though just as heavy.

She swallows hard enough to hear and then clears her throat. "What about the others? I haven't heard anything...which is actually saying something."

Part of him was hesitant, a knee-jerk paranoia of someone or something possibly listening. "Harv stayed with me...we were separated from the others after escaping Tyr Og Nor. I mean...there have been rumors...good and bad. I've heard Xero and Clemett made it back to Eyre, but I also heard the whole city crashed and burned somewhere in Siltheria." he takes a breath and cocks his head to the side, "no telling what's true these days, but on the upside, at least people are still gossiping."

"And Jirina?"

"Not a damn whisper." His brow furrows again as he straightens to his feet. Fists at his sides he stalks back behind the desk, facing the window. Windleaf couldn't see it, but he is wearing a scowl for the ages. He crosses his arms so tight it almost hurts, tight like the muscles in his jaw.

They wouldn't have been able to get out of the Orgish shit hole without Jirina staying behind and buying them time. Foolish broad rings between his ears as he shakes his head. Stubborn, stubborn, stubborn. And as much as a part of him wants to hope she's out there somewhere -anywhere- he knows she'll never be so stubborn as to keep death from taking her. Kicking and screaming if necessary.

"Well...if it means anything...I'm glad you're okay."

"If you want to call it that, sure." He wants to reciprocate the thought, but he can't. His nerves are still too tight. Tight enough to make him jump when the clasp of the cabin door comes up with an iron ka-chunk and the door creaks on its hinges. His head jerks, his shoulders turn halfway until he can see the shiny chrome body that accompanies the telling, rhythmic steps and whirring of a robot in motion. Windleaf turns as well, though not as quickly. She wants to smile at the sight of the automaton but stifles the idea, her expression unreadable as she waits for his reaction. If there is to be any.

Round red lights move behind a black glass visor, Harv-5's eyes settling on her wordlessly. He appears wholly unchanged save for a few dents and scrapes. His straw hat is in its place and his scythe rests on his back, courtesy of some sort of magnet.

Something in him clicks. Literally. "Ah. You came after all." he says, flat inflection.

She shrinks a little, feeling the weight of his artificial gaze. "Harv." Windleaf offers with a nod but receives no response. She watches the red lights in his face shift away from her.

"How did it go?" Stinger tips his chin.

"There has been...good fortune, for once. Help is here."

"No kidding?" Stinger's face actually lights up, surprise genuine with hints of relief. "Is it an army? Please tell me it's an army,"

"Not quite. But it is the best one can hope for. At least I would imagine so...if imagination was part of my programming."

Stinger's face twists, now suddenly less impressed. His brow is flat over his eyes and a corner of his mouth has sunk nearly to his jaw. Arms crossing again he snorts "Well that makes me feel just dandy."

"I thought it would." sounds like someone speaking through a metal bucket with no bottom. He finally moves from the doorway -clink-clunk-clunk- to the far side of Windleaf to make space for someone who has been waiting just behind him. Heavy though nonmetallic footsteps pull another shape into the cabin, a stump and stout figure covered from head to toe in gear and pouches to keep things in. Stinger's face changes almost immediately.

"You slick son of a bitch."

"Eh?" The amber lenses of goggles flicker as they move towards him, head turning under a heavy welding mantle. "Slick nothin'. Your stupid ass is still kickin' around, so you're the slick one from where I'm standin'. I gotta admit I almost didn't believe that the harvester showed up when we docked here, I'd even made bets with some of the guys about whether or not you folks were still alive."

"Hope you didn't lose too much on me." a quiet chuckle. "Thanks for coming, Clemett."

"How could I say no? After all I-," he pauses suddenly, mid stride as he takes note of the other human in the room. Then he continues, looking away from her. "I couldn't ignore what might be our only chance to fix this. Although...do we even have clue one?"

"That's what this is about." Stinger nods. "Is it just you?"

"Thankfully we're going to be luckier than that." He half twists and gestures with his hand, "Come on in folks."

A great swell of hope pushes the fear from Stinger's back as he watches two more bodies come through the door, both having to duck to avoid the insufficient height of the opening. A stately postured, white haired gentleman with a perfectly manicured goatee comes into the light first, bringing out the vibrant dark blue of his long coat and the almost absurd pink trim of it. And just behind him was a near seven foot tall shadow, blanched gray skin standing out against steely blackness.

"Keerg's beard," the captain just shakes his head, amazed. "We're all here."

"The feeling's mutual. Well met, friends." Xero smiles, the hair around his mouth moving to match the expression.

"For a while I thought we'd lost you, Von Moon. You're not an easy guy to find."

"Assuming I wished to be found, that is, captain." the Mage Warrior winks. "But it was all for good reason, rest assured."

"I don't doubt that." Stinger nods. "You too, Jirina, glad you could make it. Good to see you."

Not a word from the she-Org, she only crosses her arms with a hard breath out of her nose.

"It's been a...long journey for us," Xero says with a weary breath, almost in apology, "if we could just get to business..."

"Of course. Um, I'd offer you all a seat, but, well,"

"It's all well and good, you've got a floor and that's fine enough." Clemett waves a dismissive hand and slumps against a wall, M.A.B.L.E tucked under one arm. The others seem content to stand.

All the while Windleaf is stock still, mortified at the sensation of eyes boring into the back of her head. She can sense the magic in the room, a dead heat under her skin, an enormous combined presence compared to her own. She felt it the minute the others set foot on the ship but hadn't said anything on the off chance it was just her nerves. Part of her wishes it had been.

"So where do we stand?" Stinger begins.

"We still have all of the components for the Spell of Banishment," Xero answers, his hands folded behind his back, "I won't say where, only that they are readily accessible."

Stinger nods. "Here's a better one for you; how do we even get that close now? I haven't been down there, but I'm willing to bet my hide that Hokum has ten times as many defenses between us and him than before."

"You'd be right, at least going by what the head told me."

"I'm quite much more than just a head, Sir Clemett." Xero corrects gently.

"Force of habit." the Gadgeteer shrugs it off, tipping his head to the side. "But according to him Hokum has shit we've never even heard of, much less even thought possible."

"Like what?"

"The walls of his palatial fortress are -for lack of a better term- alive. I don't know how that fiend managed it, but the damn battlements are possessed. Heads and limb and everything. Nasty contraptions." the Mage Warrior's expression darkens as he speaks, like he's recalling the details from a personal memory.

Windleaf cringes. She knows what he's going on about, having helped Hokum make the damnable things. He had called them his watchdogs, she thought of them as the second biggest mistake of her life.

"Most of Wyldern's gone to pot," Clemett continues, "hardly a soul down there that isn't working for Hokum or a Dargling outright."

"What about the Toparri?" Stinger lifts one eyebrow.

"I can only imagine they're still holed up in that forest of theirs. The Sentinel hasn't lost his shit yet -which is weird if you ask me- but that could mean anything. Maybe they think there's still a chance to get rid of this."

"One can hope."

"Otherwise...well, it's like I said; not much else there except problems. If we're going to get close to that old toad bastard, we'll have to be quick."

"And quiet." Xero adds.

"But there isn't a chance on Keerg's backside that we'll be able to take the same route we did before. Is he still in Tyr Og Nor as before?"

"To my knowledge," Xero nods with mild hesitation, "but I'd imagine he doesn't stay in one place too long in order to avoid certain...inconveniences such as ourselves." then he pauses, perhaps thinking. "Mayhaps you could offer us some insight, Miss Windleaf?"

She shudders almost hard enough for them to see. That crawling skin feeling amplifies as she swallows.

"Xero's right," she forces out, "he won't stay in one place very long. Sometimes he even comes to the Academy. I have no way of knowing when he comes and goes, but...if I were to make an educated guess, he spends most of his time in his palace. He probably has a hundred hiding places just in there, and he's learned how to create magic traps that you can't even sense until...let's just say there are some places even a fly can't get through." For a split second she feels as though she just can't breathe enough. No amount of oxygen could resolve this sensation of suffocating. She's doing it again. Stabbing someone in the back. "But I wrote most of them...I could probably undo them."

"You're saying you would be willing to accompany us if we were to try again?" Xero's snowy brows raise.

"Y-yeah, I am." she can feel her nails biting into her palms. "I made this mess...I need to do what I can to clean it up."

"Is that wise?" All heads turn when Jirina finally speaks. The Org-Ta warrior takes one large step forward into the light as she tosses back a soot colored hood with a hard tip of her chin. Stinger's gaze fixes on her face, on the marks that hadn't been there before. Pale stripes that had once been wounds peek out from beneath the metal visor. And her hands, he has to blink several times before he realizes what he sees; what he initially thinks are rust colored stone bracers are actually the limbs they resemble. He notices the fine seams of creases between the stone and the thickest part of her forearm. Then he recalls her footsteps, looking down to find a similar circumstance just below the knee.

"She could just as easily be tricking us. Again."

The accusation is more than fair, which is why Windleaf doesn't speak out against it. She has no right to. She can hardly stand to acknowledge the vague shape of her in her peripheral, and while she hears Jirina loud and clear, she can also hear the echo of what the Org is surely thinking bouncing between her ears.

Look at me, you conniving sow. Look at me. At least have the guts to do that much.

But she simply can't. Not now when she feels the hot coals of her eyes boring through the side of her head. In a way the rest of them feel it too, but can only watch. Like waiting for a fuse to burn down and the bomb to go off.

"Consider it a gesture of good faith, big gal." Clemett breaks the quiet.

"There is no such thing." comes her biting response. "We don't need her."

"I disagree." Stinger shakes his head. "We need every pair of hands we can get and she's offering."

"Offering to lead us to the damn butcher block. I say we just kill her now and go after Hokum."

"We don't know what we're up against, Jirina. We can't afford not to listen to her."

"Xero and I have seen it, and I have seen it all from the inside. I can lead you to the bastard's bedroom if you let me."

"Thankfully that's not what we're aiming for." Stinger inwardly lurches at the idea of where Hokum sleeps. "Just his throne room, that and wherever the Darg is manifesting."

"There's a path from the throne room to top of the mountain behind the palace. It's coming from there." Windleaf pushes out. "Like the mouth of hell itself."

"Looks like our work is cut out for us. Although, if you ask me," Clemett pauses, his palm on his chest, "with or without the little lady here, I'd say we've got equal chances of being screwed without the lube -if you catch my drift."

"I catch it." Harv looks down at him briefly, as if to assure him.

"Thanks, bot. But I'm all for her coming along. Like you said, cap, one more body won't hurt our situation. And if it goes south," whatever lay behind his goggles settled on the human woman, "I think M.A.B.L.E could oblige us in taking care of it."

He would blow me to kingdom come. Just like that. Windleaf shudders. He hasn't changed at all.

Jirina's head twists sharp on her neck, eyes meeting with all the others in the room. "So you all agree with this?"

"It is the most logical course of action in spite of the apparent risk." Harv adjusts his hat. "There is no better option."

"Damn fools, the whole lot of you." the she-Org growls.

"Will you not accompany us, then?" worry creases Xero's forehead.

"Of course I will, even if it's for no other reason than to keep this rat from biting us a second time. So we go, but Cartoff Island is off the table."

"Oh?" Stinger felt himself shrink a little.

"Darglings have been vomiting out of that hole since Lady Jirina and I returned to the surface some...six, seven years ago now. So she's right, I'm afraid South Cartoff is not an option."

"But the Navigators are." Harv whirrs, all eyes falling on him. "The queen has spoken to me of another passage to Wyldern beneath the canopy, though she is uncertain of its exact location. If anyone is, it would be the Blue Orgs and they are allies to Metaboline."

"What makes you think Hokum doesn't know about it?"

"Because his trash isn't stinking up the undergrowth. The whole forest would've been razed already if he did." Stinger stretches, both hands going behind his head. "We've had a few isolated cases of the madness here, but no Darglings. If Hokum does know about it, he's just keeping others from getting through. It may be our only shot."

"While that does sound like a most paramount idea, for all we know that fiend could have an entire garrison waiting on the other side." It was clear by his tone that Xero doesn't want to state the obvious, but does so anyway.

"Then we fight through an entire garrison. At that point it's do or don't, no in between."

"Finally we can agree." Jirina almost smirks. "So to the queen, then?"

"Harv and I will go back to Metaboline, once we have something we'll get back in touch as soon as possible."

"Then I'll go with you, cap," Clemett gets to his feet, "I can contact Eyre a lot faster than any letter on a pigeon you might throw her way."

"Welcome aboard then."

"Lady Jirina and I will remain with the Gadgeteers until you return. Unless, of course, she objects to the idea," the Mage Warrior leans, cocking his head.

"Better than being within ten feet of this filth." and while no one could see it for the metal visor, the Org was scowling hard enough to hurt, still staring right through the only other human in the room.

"I have to get back to the Academy. If the wrong people notice I'm missing..." Windleaf pauses with a small squeak curling out of her throat.

"Of course." Stinger needs no further explanation. "Is there any way we could contact you?"

"No...but I'll be keeping an eye on you."

"How comforting."

Windleaf's back stiffens, straightens, and she finally has the gumption to look up and acknowledge the Org's presence. A move she almost immediately regrets. "If you've got something to say, then say it."

"I don't trust you." she wastes no time at all. "I would happily cave in your skull this instant if I were anyone else. But even that's too good for you. I'd say plenty more if there was time." Jirina jerks away and pushes passed Xero, nearly putting him on his backside as her heavy shoulder jars him. The cabin door swings back, smacking the wall and she ducks through the opening.

Xero rights himself and brushes his hands down the front of his coat. "Please forgive her. This wasn't easy for her to do."

Everyone's faces -those that were visible that is- stretched with the same expression. Somber, pitying.

"Any idea what happened?"

"Far worse things than what became of us, captain, to be sure." then the old man shrugs, suddenly looking that much older. "Good luck on your errand, lad. Hope to see you again." And he follows the same path out onto the deck.

Windleaf slowly sinks back to her previously diminished posture as she covers her face with her hands. Her elbows prop atop her thighs as Stinger watches, his expression holding steady. The captain looks at Harv and Clemett, requesting silently with a tip of his chin that they leave. They oblige, closing the door behind them.

Stinger then shakes his head with a quiet breath. "I can't imagine."

"I can." Windleaf counters through the space between her pressing hands. "She'll never forgive me."

"Jirina doesn't forgive anyone." Which is entirely true. "But...maybe if this all pans out...who knows."

The Archmage drops her hands to her sides as she stands up. "I know. If Hokum doesn't kill me, she will certainly try given a chance."

"Well, maybe the lot of us working this through to the end will make her think twice about it, at the very least."

"I won't hold my breath." she shakes her head, starting to turn away from him. She feels him quickly round the desk and settle at her side, a hand circling her upper arm. She looks back at him, meeting his gaze. "What do you want me to say?"

His expression is soft with empathy. "Nothing. I just want you to know...I still believe in you. Never really stopped." though he had come perilously close to doing just that many times over the past decade. "No matter how this ends up...you can count on me to stick by you."

Her face stretches, lips parting and sable brows tightening gently. All of that guilt and self loathing lurched in her very core, like a bolder rolling over, and it was a sensation she simply couldn't handle. She twists the rest of the way and hooks her arms around him and just squeezes. Her eyes burn behind screwed shut lids.

"It'll be all right." he says quietly, returning the gesture, knowing how badly she needs it.

"Do you forgive me?" her voice breaks against his shoulder.

No hesitation. "I do. To hell with the others if they don't -that's their hang-up."

Windleaf tries to thank him, jaw working but no real words. Just a half sob that gets lost as she tucks her head against his collar bone.

What he would give to have the circumstances be different.

"I have to go." she chokes out finally, pushing herself away from him with unsteady hands. "I've already stayed too long."

"Keep in touch, we'll work as fast as we can."

"I know. Goodbye, Stinger."

There's so much despair and urgency in her face that he can't speak. He only dips his chin in a curt nod just before she exits the cabin. He finds himself listening, able the hear her footsteps as she crosses the deck and then stop suddenly as she must have started down the gangplank. He feels her very presence eventually dissipate, the sudden, complete absence almost painful.

Stinger swallows it down and leans into a set of confident strides that bring him out on deck. He calls out to his crew.

"All hands, make ready to set sail! We depart for Metaboline on the next bough-tide!"

Author's Note: So, yeah, there's this thing. I've searched via Google, and to my knowledge, this is the first and only Shadow Madness fic. If I'm wrong, feel free to correct me, it won't hurt my feelings one bit. (unless you correct me like an asshole, then you can just twirl on it.) Why am I doing this? Because my muse dropped off her dirty laundry for me to take care of. "Oh, you have all these other projects? Too bad, here's something else that you NEED to do right now. 'Kay-thanks-bye." And why an altered universe? Because the game in itself is a complete story. Somehow the idea of the supposed ending of the story being turned upside-down was intriguing enough to do this. So yeah. Chances are good you'll get the most out of this if you've played the game. And if you haven't, there's a Let's Plays on youtube by MagicNash89.