FAMILY REUNION

-x-

One

-x-

He wandered, following the call. Either the other people couldn't see him or they didn't want to be able to see him sufficiently for their eyes to glaze over and gaze straight through him. He spent a while in his home, treading lightly through the dust, stepping over messy tendrils in the garden, taking in the decay. He sighed.

'Jesus.'

The call wasn't centred there, though, so he left. He walked slowly along to the freeway, heading towards the distant shore. The call became louder, more desperate. He shook his head. He knew now where it was he had to go. It had been a long time now since that place had tried to take his only child from him. It had taken him a very long time to get over that. Perhaps he never truly had.

Still.

He was needed. He was being called. He had to go. After all had been said and done… he had to do it. He had to Be There, even if was to only be this one time… Lay things to rest. After all, wasn't that what being dead was supposed to be all about?

He squared his shoulders and continued the long trek towards the Amusement Park.

-x-

The tent was quiet and dark. Hank was surprised at how cool it was. He'd spent the last couple of weeks burning up, now he needed a blanket to keep warm. He was ravenously hungry. He took this as a good sign. His face was itching. He wasn't sure whether this was good or not. He waited in the gloom, wondering whether he dare scratch it. Tentatively, he raised his hand up to the bandage that covered most of the left side of his face.

'Don't touch the wound,' ordered a kindly yet firm female voice from behind him. 'That's how it got infected in the first place.'

The elderly woman who had been his nurse since he'd fallen sick sat cross-legged next to his bedroll with a friendly smile. 'You never did tell me which shaky handed charlatan it was who did such a terrible job of stitching you up the first time…'

She offered Hank a bowl of stew. He accepted it gratefully, ramming several oversized spoonfuls of the food into his mouth in fast succession.

Zule watched his expression. 'You did it yourself,' she announced, 'didn't you.'

Hank shot Zule a momentary glance of sheepish confirmation before going back to his food. The old woman sat back. 'I knew it. You should have let me see to it months ago, but no.'

'Thought it was fine,' Hank mumbled through the food, 'didn't want to put you to the trouble.'

'And so you let it go septic.' Zule shook her head. 'Well. It was touch and go for a while, but you seem to be on the mend now.'

'Could…' Hank swallowed, nervously, brushing his fingers over the bandage. 'Could I still lose my eye?'

Zule pressed her lips tightly together and met Hank's gaze, seriously. 'No, dearie. I'm afraid that's already lost.'

Hank took in a deep breath. 'It's gone?'

'It's been gone for a long time, Hank. It was blinded when you injured yourself. It was useless.'

Hank set the bowl down on the floor of the tent and dreamily ran his fingers over his left eye socket through the bandage. 'It could'a got better…'

'No. It couldn't. It was very infected. It was making you sick. I'm sorry, Hank. I had to remove it.'

'I'm a Ranger,' sighed Hank, despondently. 'An archer, a tracker… how am I supposed to do any of those things with only one eye?'

Zule shrugged with a forced cheer. 'Ever since you joined our little band you've only had one working eye. And you seem to have managed just fine.'

'It's not the same,' sighed Hank.

Zule drew breath to reply, but thought better of it. 'Eat up,' she told him, 'you'll need your strength.'

She got up and walked out of the tent, pulling the flap that formed a rudimentary door shut again behind her. Hank ate the rest of his meal in silence. So that was it. The eye was gone for good. The latest in a long, long catalogue of dear prices that his stupidity had cost him. He tried his best not to think of that night that he had come so close to destroying everything, or the slow erosion of his soul that had led to that horrific event, but the memories plagued him like those of an alcoholic recalling snatches of inebriated misdemeanours from the night before. He had lost his friends, he had lost Sheila… he had come so close to losing his self, the very essence that made him Him. And it had been nobody but Venger who had turned him around, saved him from himself, and that was the worst to contemplate of all. That fact made Hank simply want to crawl under a dark, flat rock somewhere and die.

Even though he'd promised Diana he would find help for his old Gang that night he'd walked away from them, his main intention had been to wander alone. He hadn't counted on stumbling across the small group of refugees when he had. Even less had he considered that the four strangers he had encountered would prove to be more helpful to him than he was to them. He crawled out of the low tent with his empty bowl and got stiffly to his feet, wincing at the daylight.

'Well,' called Raeed from the campfire, 'look who is finally up.'

Hank managed a small smile in Raeed's general direction. Hank had worried on joining the group that he might have faced some aggression from the only other man in the party. His fears, it had transpired, had been completely unfounded. Raeed was a warm and genial man, and even though he seemed to have no more sexual interest in any of the group's three women than Hank did, there was never any dispute over who was the Alpha Male. Hank always, always deferred to the older man. It seemed to come naturally to him, despite his being Leader for so long and his battles for the upper hand with Eric back in the old group. It just felt as though Raeed was simply born to lead, and Hank was happy to follow for once. Of the three women there was old Zule, Vanti – a strange, frail, quiet young woman who seemed to Hank to be even more an outsider than he was, and Ashi – Raeed's little sister… or was she his niece? The story of their relationship never matched from one day to the next.

'Are you still hungry?' Ashi asked him with a small smile, 'there is a little stew left over…'

'Only if you guys are all full…' Hank began.

'This boy,' giggled Zule, 'he spends two weeks flat on his back and then he demands extra portions! What are we to do with…'

Zule halted, suddenly, like a startled animal. Her nervousness spread fast around the group, and they all got to their feet, holding their collective breath. Hank pulled Big Sally over his shoulder silently and loaded it, straining to hear an unusual sound in the nearby trees.

They waited.

And waited.

Several minutes passed, and all remained still.

'Maybe,' suggested Vanti, quietly, 'it's a false alar…'

There was an almighty din from the shallow river that ran past their encampment. The five members of the band turned from their study of the trees in time to see over a dozen well armoured Orcs springing up from beneath the water.

Zule took a couple of nervous steps back. 'They're hiding underwater,' she scowled. 'They are getting smarter.'

'You know what to do,' growled Raeed, unsheathing his sword.

Hank released a crossbow bolt, hitting an approaching Orc in the shoulder. He swore, reloaded and hit the injured Orc in the throat.

'I'm gonna run out of arrows at this rate…' he muttered.

Ashi darted towards Hank. 'Give me your sword.'

'No, Ashi!' Raeed demanded. 'You do as I told you. You take the other women and you hide.'

'…and leave you to face all of those Orcs with only an invalid to help you?'

Hank fired another crossbow bolt at the Orcs, and missed again.

'Ashi…' warned Raeed.

'I am a better swordsman than Hank,' Ashi argued, 'I practice all the time. Why won't you let me…'

'My decision has been made!' Bellowed Raeed. 'My order has been given! Go now, before it's too late…'

But it was too late. The first few Orcs had already climbed the riverbank, and began to sprint the short distance towards the encampment. Hank was able to hit one, but the others were practically upon them. Before Hank could stop her, Ashi grabbed the sword that he had taken from Eric six months previously and swung it behind herself with the same flourish that Raeed used with his own weapon.

'No!' Raeed leapt in front of the girl before the Orcs could reach her, cutting two down with a double swing of his sword. He was not fast enough for the third. It blocked his sword's blow, pushing him off his balance. Hank reloaded and fired. The crossbow bolt hit the Orc in the small of the neck, sending it stumbling to the ground, but already two more of the brutes were right behind it. Raeed lunged again, but a particularly large foe grabbed his sword bearing hand, twisted it up to its snout and bit it. Raeed cried out, dropping his sword and with an outraged scream, Ashi darted towards the two new Orcs, paying no apparent heed to the fact that each of them dwarfed the young woman. Hank shakily tried to aim his crossbow at the Orcs surrounding Raeed and Ashi, but was alerted by another cry. He turned his head and saw three more Orcs fast approaching the two weaponless women. He shifted Big Sally to face the Orcs approaching Vanti and Zule, but as he did he was halted by a big, rough palm closing tight around his throat. Helplessly, he was pulled backwards into the large, heavily armoured torso of the Orc that had grabbed him. He could feel its snout breathing hot, meaty breaths against the remains of his face.

'Ullo,' grunted the Orc.

There was a whistle, and a dull "thunk".

The grasp around Hank's neck slackened, suddenly. The body fell away from his back. Hank had no chance to turn to see what had happened to his captor when another Orc fell, mysteriously. And another. And another.

They were being shot. They were being shot with a crossbow. And it wasn't his!

'Nym?' He turned to scan the other side of the river. 'Janapurna?'

It was a woman all right, if not either of those he had named – a solitary woman, on horseback on the opposite riverbank, covered in grey armour, her crossbow raised. There was, Hank pondered as he took three goes in fast succession to pick off another approaching Orc, something familiar about her.

Two more well aimed shots from the mysterious rider and a skilful swing of Ashi's sword brought down enough of the attacking Orcs for the remaining handful to turn tail. Hank lowered Big Sally and watched as the armour clad stranger picked off each and every one of the fleeing Orcs with her crossbow.

From his crouched position on the ground, nursing his hand, Raeed lifted his head towards the woman. 'They have given up!' he cried. 'You don't have to shoot them!'

'Yes I do,' called the woman. 'If I didn't, how would I be sure they were all dead?' She aimed and fired at the last Orc, and it fell into the river with a squeal.

Raeed got to his feet, irritably pushing away Ashi's helping hand. 'They were no longer a threat to us. To shoot them like that makes one no better than they are.'

The woman strapped her crossbow back onto her back. 'There are worse things.' She turned her horse away from them. 'You're welcome, by the way.'

'Wait!' Zule had stepped forward, and continued to approach the riverbank as she spoke. 'You are alone, aren't you?'

The woman stalled. 'Not entirely.'

'You saved our lives,' Zule reminded her. 'Why?'

'I attacked the Orcs because I could see you were in trouble,' replied the woman, 'not to mention that I hate the bastards.'

'You don't wish for any recompense?' Ashi asked. 'We have some hot food if you're hungry.'

Hank frowned, squinting at the woman on the other side of the river. She was middle aged, with frizzy red hair tied back in a ponytail and a sad expression. In a flash, he realised why she was so familiar. They had met before, briefly, when they had first re entered the Realm… it must have been around 9 months before. It was Lilac, the woman that Bobby had… that Bobby had…

Ah, crap.

'You are pregnant,' announced Zule, casting a critical eye over Lilac. She did indeed have a torso far fatter than usual for such a slender face and limbs. Her armour curved out massively to incorporate a swollen belly and breasts.

Lilac curled her lips slightly. 'Not so.'

Zule furrowed her brow in confusion. Lilac kicked her mount gently and guided the horse across the shallow river. The closer she got the more her rounded breastplate shone, like the side of a highly polished cauldron.

'I can see how you could be fooled,' Lilac told Zule as she crossed. 'I had this armour made to protect the baby once I found out I was pregnant…'

'But you still wear it,' noted Ashi.

'Yes.' Her horse clopped onto their side of the river, and she carefully dismounted with a slight wince. 'That hot food would be nice, by the way,' she added.

'What happened to the baby?' Breathed Raeed.

Lilac smiled again and unclasped her bulging armour. Although she was indeed not pregnant, it still fit her snugly, since around her belly was a tight cloth sling. With one hand cradling it, she unravelled it with the other until the sling came gently away from her. She carefully held the softly stirring bundle and uncovered the baby's head.

Hank, already lost for words, found his very breath halting in the back of his throat. The baby sleepily opened its eyes and gazed straight at him. He realised that his hands were trembling against his open mouth.

The baby. The baby.

The baby looked exactly like Sheila.

-x-

There was a shack (or was it a hovel?) – a nondescript hovel (or was it a shack?) in the middle of a small street of hovelshacks in the rundown neighbourhood on the outskirts of an unimportant Market Town – one of a thousand similar dreary, ambling little towns of its kind in the Realm. Like many homes in the town, this one had a small stable, little more than a shed, in the small garden at the back. Again like so many gardens in the area, the residents had dug up what little grass there was and used the soil to begin growing a small vegetable patch, helped along by nitrates supplied by the outside Privy. The shackhovel itself comprised of one room downstairs, with a single stove that was rarely lit, and a ladder leading up to two small bedrooms. Four young adults lived in the house together – two men and two women. This was far from unusual, since people in that neighbourhood were often too poor to afford houses to themselves. They seemed to keep a horse, although it was never taken out of its stable. This was a little more odd, although most of the people who lived nearby just assumed that the beast was lame. Every now and again the house would be deserted for several days but again, this was far from unusual. Many young people took temporary manual labour jobs for local farms that would take them away from home for a week or so. Yes, there was absolutely nothing out of the ordinary about this particular shack (hovel) or its inhabitants. They blended perfectly in with their surroundings. They disappeared.

So when the door of the hovel (shack) was opened by an invisible hand and an invisible person stepped inside, Eric wasn't exactly surprised.

He turned back to his game. 'Tell me you weren't cloaked the whole way.'

'Don't worry, Eric. Nobody saw me.' Sheila removed her hood and shifted into view. 'I mean, that's kinda the point of this thing.'

'It's still dangerous,' Uni added. 'Just because you can't be seen doesn't mean…'

'…Doesn't mean I can't be noticed,' Sheila aped. 'I know. I know.' She cricked her neck. 'I just had to get out. Don't you guys feel sometimes like the walls in this place are closing in on you? Like everybody's watching us?'

Uni "Hmmph"ed. 'Think you've got it hard? Try blending in when you're a talking Unicorn.' She delicately picked up one of the roughly carved white Bishops with her teeth, moving it to knock over a similarly lopsided black Rook.

'Son of a bitch!' Eric threw up his hands in frustration. 'How can I be losing at chess to a quadraped? You didn't even know what a Pawn was a couple of months ago!'

Uni gave a small, smug smile. 'It's not my fault that you suck.'

Sheila giggled at Eric's irritation as she towelled off her hair.

'Why don't you get Presto to send you out for your run?' asked the Cavalier of the Unicorn. 'Burn off some of that aggression ya got.'

'It's raining,' Uni replied.

'Presto's back?' Sheila asked.

'He's upstairs,' Uni told her, 'got in about an hour ago.'

'He's sulking,' Eric added.

'Oh.' Sheila sighed. 'That's not a good sign, is it?' She rubbed her cold arms. 'Still. Good to have him back.'

She caught a brief flash of old school mischief as it flashed across Eric's face. 'Yes?' he asked with a slight leer.

'Yes,' Sheila replied, curtly. 'Maybe if he's back we'll be able to get the stove going for a couple of hours without worrying too much about getting found out. I could really do with some hot food and a hot bath.'

'Well,' cooed Eric, 'maybe some pretty girl could be able to persuade him to cheer the Hell up and get a super protected fire blazing.'

Sheila narrowed her eyes at him.

'Where to find a pretty girl, though,' Eric continued, 'now there's the pisser.' He grinned at her. 'I'd lend you mine, but she's napping right now. Don't wake her when you go up, by the way. She had a really rough night.'

'Another one?' Sheila shook her head. 'Poor Diana. She's been sick for a week now. You should get Presto to take a look at her.'

Eric arched an eyebrow. 'Gee, d'you think?'

'Don't get huffy at me,' Sheila told him, primly. 'Just because you're worried about her.'

'Who's worried?' Eric retorted with an over-the-top nonchalance. 'I'm sure it's just somethin' she ate. And at least it's grounded her for the time being. It's hardly "laying low" when one of our party feels the urge to stretch her wings every couple of nights. Not to mention, she's like a human hot water bottle. My bed's been warm as toast since she got sick.'

'You are worried,' smiled Sheila, mounting the ladder up to the top floor. 'That's sweet.'

Eric scowled at the Thief as she ascended.

'Check,' announced the Unicorn.

'Oh, for the love of God!'

-x-

Sheila quietly pulled herself up through the trapdoor that separated the floors and tiptoed past the curtain that Eric and Diana had hung to give their small bedroom some privacy, taking care not to trip on the various odds and ends that cluttered the narrow corridor. She opened the door to the larger bedroom that she, despite his insistence that he could happily sleep in a chair downstairs, shared with Presto. Presto was sitting hunched up on his bed, his glasses off, his eyes closed.

'Hey, you,' she whispered.

'Diana's sleeping,' Presto muttered with eyes closed.

'I know,' replied Sheila, 'why d'you think I'm whispering?'

She sat next to him, laying a hand on his shoulder. 'Didn't work, huh?'

Presto shook his head.

'For what it's worth,' Sheila continued, 'I'm kinda glad. Dead people should stay dead.'

'Yeah, sighed Presto. 'I know. And the old DM understood that too. Maybe that's why he didn't respond. Or maybe I've just gotten too weak to perform a resurrection. I don't know.' He rubbed his face. 'I don't know what we're gonna do next, Sheila. I really don't.'

'Well…' Sheila patted his shoulder, 'we stay put, we have a nice hot dinner, we'll wait for you to get some good rest and for Diana to get better, and then… well, then we'll come up with a new idea.'

'I don't know, Sheila.'

'We will! Remember back in the old days, when we were just trying to get home? Sometimes it got rough back then, too. Sometimes it was hard to see the light at the end of the tunnel back then, when we were dealing with disappointment after disappointment. But we kept at it, we kept on trying, and eventually we did it. We got home.'

'But back then we had the old DM,' Presto retorted. 'And Hank, and Bobby.'

'Yeah, but we didn't have this funky little shack,' replied Sheila with a smile.

Presto snorted a short - but genuine – laugh. 'Sheila O'Brien, you have all the cynical pessimism of a Disney Princess at a Motivational Rally. Besides, I think technically this is classed as a hovel.'

'Funky little hovel, then.'

Presto put his glasses back on. 'How long do you really think we can stay here, resting on our laurels, hiding away? One of these days we'll get caught.' He paused. 'We need Hank and Bobby back. I should never have let our group get split like this…'

'They had to find their own paths for a while, Presto,' Sheila told him. 'That's why you had to let them go. And when the time's right they'll find their way back to us. And we won't get caught with you around. You're so much stronger than you give yourself credit for. You're DM, for God's sake!'

Presto closed his eyes momentarily, feeling Sheila's hand as she gently rubbed a soft circle on his shoulder blade. 'Thank you, Sheila.'

'What for?'

'For your Faith.' He smiled across at her, warmly.

'You know what would really say "Thank you" at a time like this…?' Sheila hopefully prompted.

Presto laughed again. 'Is it a bath full of hot water by a raging stove?'

'Could just be.'

-x-

Eric leant out of the water, wrapped a cloth around his hand, opened the lid of the pot of the stove and peered in.

'Dinner's nearly ready, guys,' he called, sitting back down in the tin bath.

'Well,' called Presto's voice from upstairs, 'we can't very much eat it with you two still in the bath, can we?'

'Yeah, yeah.' Eric rinsed off his hair and stood up.

Diana scowled up at him. 'You're dripping on me.'

'I'm getting my towel!' He wrapped the towel around his waist, failing to cover up a veritable plethora of scars. The wing on his shoulder had long since turned from mauve to white, and was now joined by a large mark on his belly which, along with an identical partner on the small of his back, bore witness to the strength of Kosar's Spear, and several smaller round scars from where the crossbow bolts had entered him. Various newer cuts, scratches and scabs told of more recent scuffles with Orcs, Zombies and the occasional Gnome which his new magically produced armour had been unable to completely protect him from. He held a second towel out to Diana.

'Want yours?'

Diana groaned, shrinking back against the tub.

'C'mon, Deeds. You don't want to shrivel up, do ya?'

With another groan Diana slowly, delicately lifted herself out of the bath and into the waiting towel.

'How're you feeling now?'

'Lame,' she growled in reply.

'Well…' Eric attempted in reply as he began pulling on his new red tunic, 'I'm sure you'll feel better after some nice hot food… baked potatoes, fresh bread, cowboy beans…'

Her bikini already hurriedly thrown on, Diana was fastening the long woollen robe she'd acquired to keep out the constant cold when Eric's menu list caused her to gag involuntarily.

'Don't think I can eat that,' she sighed. 'Maybe I can stomach a bit of bread, but…'

'You're kidding! Diana, you have got to eat.' Eric began tying a set of dark blue leather leggings, leaving – as he always did these days – his steel armour for quests and combat only. 'No wonder you're so drained all the time.'

Diana rubbed her temples. 'Stop lecturing me. I haven't got the energy.'

'I'm not lecturing you. But so help me, young lady, you are gonna sit at that table and eat a decent dinner for once.'

'You are lecturing me.'

'I've only got your best interests at heart…'

'Stop lecturing Diana,' called Presto as he began to descend the ladder.

'See?' Diana grinned, weakly.

'And,' Presto added, 'if we've all had our baths and dinner's all ready it's high time we put that fire out.'

'Aww,' complained Eric and Diana in unison.

'Do we have to?' asked Sheila from the top of the ladder.

Presto rapped on the back window to call Uni in from her stable. 'It's been four hours. That's my absolute limit. It's been damn risky letting it burn all evening as it is. We can have two candles for light and that's it.'

Eric set to dousing the fire with a grumble as Sheila carried the hot food over to their small wooden table.

'Good to see you back, by the way,' Diana told Presto. 'Eric told me it didn't go so well for you.'

'No,' Presto replied, carefully looking the Acrobat up and down.

'Well,' she smiled, 'if it makes you feel any better, I've had a pretty crappy week myself.'

'You've been sick,' Presto recounted.

'As a dog,' replied Diana, 'for days and days now. Really tired too, but that's probably because I'm not eating or sleeping properly, right?'

'Um…' Presto breathed, 'sort of.'

'You know what's wrong with me?' Diana asked, 'just by looking at me?'

'Can you cure her?' added Eric. 'Please God tell me you can cure her, old buddy, she's such a pain in the ass when she's sick.'

'Um…' repeated Presto. 'Maybe we should have a word. In private.'

'What?' Eric snapped. 'What's wrong with her? Is it serious? Is shedying?'

'I'm not dying!'

'You could be dying!'

'Shut up, Eric…'

There was a sudden loud, slow, deliberate banging on the door. The squabbling youngsters were silenced in a heartbeat, watching the door warily, their breaths halted.

'What do you suppose…?' whispered Sheila. 'It's too late for callers.'

The door was banged again.

'You don't think…' breathed Eric, 'have we been spotted? Have they… have they come to take us? Kill us?'

'Don't open it,' Diana hissed.

The door was banged yet again, very slowly, very forcefully.

Presto chewed his lip. 'Hide the weapons.'

'Oh shit,' Eric panicked, quietly, 'oh shit oh shit oh shit!'

Uni reached the back door of the shack, but at the sound of the banging, quickly turned tail and headed back to the relative sanctuary of her stable. The four remaining weapons were bundled up by Eric and taken upstairs to be thrown under a bed.

The door was pounded yet again.

Presto set his face, motioned for the girls to stay back, squared his shoulders and opened the door ajar.

'Hello…?' he managed before the sight in front of him rendered him mute with shock.

'Darndest thing,' said the cadaver, taking in the new surroundings, 'it's like a whole other world in here. Did you kids all know about this?'

Oh God.

'You well, Arthur?' continued the corpse. 'Have to say, I don't care for the dress. Green's not really your colour. Wait a minute… Green… Greene… I just got that. Anyway, is my son about?'

Oh God.

'It appears he's in need of my help. Again. The voices were really very insistent, got me out of my grave and everything. You thinkin' of having kids, Arthur? Take my advice. Don't.'

Oh God.

'So, are you gonna let me in or am I gonna stand here and freeze what's left of my ass off for the rest of eternity?'

The corpse pushed past Presto and stepped into the shack.

'Ladies,' he greeted the two girls.

They both screamed.

'Get away from them.' Eric was hanging halfway down the ladder, Sheila's knife outstretched in one hand towards the interloper's back. 'Who the fuck are you, and what the fuck are you doing here?'

The newcomer smiled at the familiar voice from behind him. 'Me? Nobody. I've just here to save your ass, that's all, Kiddo.' He slowly turned around to face Eric. 'And if you ever dare cuss like that in front of me again I'm gonna wash out your mouth with carbolic soap.'

Eric froze, and gulped in three shallow breaths. 'Augh!!!'

He fell off the ladder.

Charles Montgomery shook his head at his son. 'Talk about ungrateful.'