In the village center, Nana and Bro were busily interrogating Rose, who was already taking command of the situation. She'd sent Aranea off to the Grimdark to organize a landing party, and then come back and get Dave down from the cliff. John did not have time to waste on their bullshit however, and had slunk off toward the beach. Karkat found him at the dock.
"Look, John," Karkat said, grabbing hold of his shoulder, "there's nothing you can do—"
"Sure there is!" he shouted, breaking free of the mailman's grasp. "I'm going to paddle this fucking canoe out and follow them!" John shoved the dainty blue and purple Outset canoe into the water, where it was promptly capsized by an incoming wave. He screamed and threw a rock at it, cracking the hull. "Cheap piece of shit!"
Karkat slapped his forehead. "First off, if the stupid thing couldn't survive you, how the Hell is it going to survive the Great Sea? Second, how the Hell are you going to catch up to something that flies by paddling? Third, do you even know where they went? They are long gone! Fourth, if by some miracle you managed to paddle a canoe across the entire Great Sea and somehow managed to find that thing, HOW IN THE FUCK ARE YOU GOING TO GET JADE BACK FROM IT? ARE YOU GOING TO KILL IT WITH YOUR FUCKING PURE HEART?"
Aranea alit behind him, carrying Dave. "Oh, Karkat! Hello," she said.
Surprised, he greeted her confusedly. "Hey. Still alive I see."
"You two know each other?" Dave asked.
"Why are you surprised to see that she's alive?" John asked, temporarily distracted from the tragic sinking of his canoe in five feet of water.
"All the trolls know each other," Karkat said with a dismissive gesture. "Dragon Roost is only a little bigger than this island. Because of that, whenever someone commits a serious crime we just outlaw them, so any outsiders can kill them with impunity, and since trolls tend to make enemies…." He made a conclusive gesture. There was an awkward silence. "Good job, by the way. On not getting murdered to death."
"Oh, you know me," she said with a coy expression, "people don't want to kill me, they just want me to shut up. I remember this one time on Great Fish Island—what's that boy doing?" John was walking into the ocean with a determined expression, already up to his chest in the frigid water and thoroughly soaked.
"GODDAMN IT JOHN!" Karkat bellowed, gliding after him and dragging him back to the shore. "YOUR GRANDMOTHER IS GOING TO CARVE MY BLOOD-PUSHER OUT WITH A RUSTY SPOON IF I LET YOU WANDER OFF AND COMMIT SUICIDE BY ANCIENT EVIL!"
"Let me go!" John shouted, struggling against the troll, "I have to do something!"
Dave, having remained silent for the entire conversation due to his probably bruised ribs and general fatigue, decided to finally intervene. He gave John a good solid smack upside the head, just like Bro would. "Man the fuck up. I mean yeah we have to do something but we should be cool and think about it first. Karkat just gave you a whole bunch of very good reasons you can't just rush off alone."
"Exactly," Karkat said, "Dave is clearly your intellectual superior and you should listen to him more often," He cracked his knuckles. "But what you should both be doing is listening to her. Aranea," she jumped at the sudden mention of her name, "Go get your captain," he said, pointing her in the right direction. "We're about to engage in a massive communal infodump."
With an ecstatic grin, she saluted and flew off, returning on foot within minutes with everyone else in tow. They arranged themselves in a circle around her. "From what I can gather," she began, adjusting her glasses with a smart, concise gesture, "Abraxas, the monster that we fought today, is a chthonic deity from ancient times, resurrected by means as yet unknown. He has been terrorizing the Great Sea and outlying regions for some months now, kidnapping young girls of Hylian lineage—"
"That means people with the furry ear-dealies for all you rubes," said Karkat, holding his fingers up to his ears as if to mimic the trait.
Aranea cleared her throat. "Yes, quite. It's actually a symbol placed by the Creatrices themselves marking people as the legitimate inheritors of a semi-divine lineage rumored to have once held dominion over the whole of the Earth, but 'ear-dealies' is also an appropriate term, thank you," she said with a roll of her eyes. "Regardless, Abraxas' nest is rumored to be far to the north, in a place that has since become colloquially known as the Forsaken Fortress. This location has a rich history and is rumored to be one of the last and best preserved remnants of the old Hylian kingdo—"
"Thank you Aranea," Rose said authoritatively; she knew how the troll got when she had a subject. "Essentially, the fortress is an ancient castle on a rock that was once home to a rather infamous gang of privateers known as the Felt Mob, mercenaries employed by the last duke of Windfall. For all we know, they are still there, and may even be the ones controlling Abraxas for all I know, but kidnapping has never been their priority." Rose seemed to be steeling herself. "The girls brought to the fortress are simply never seen again. There are no demands, and they are not disappearing in sufficient numbers for it to be slavery. I'm sorry John, but your sister is most likely dead, or as good as."
Almost without realizing it, John's hand fell to the hammer in his belt. He wanted to scream and rage like the impotent child he was, especially at Rose. If she had never shown up then—
But there was no point in it. John could never bring his anger above a simmer, no matter how much he wanted to. He dropped his hand from the hammer and sighed. Besides, she was as much a victim as Jade. It was the fault of that thing, Abraxas, and whoever had summoned him. The Felt Mob? Whoever it was, they would rue the day they forced their way into his life. Quietly, he said, "if she's most likely dead, then there's a small chance she's alive. I'm going." He turned to leave.
"Now here I thought you were the more mature one, but I guess I was wrong," said Dave's brother, eyes glinting dangerously over his sunglasses. "You're still just a dumb kid. Going on a quest when you have no idea of how to even get there, honestly." He rounded on Rose. "And you. You need to take some responsibility young lady."
She glared up at the man, a full head and shoulders taller than she, strong enough to snap her in two, as if she were the dangerous one. Their eyes met and John was surprised he didn't see something like a flash of light as these two titanic personalities clashed in a battle of wills.
Rose looked down first. "You are correct. Our presence in the region directly resulted in Abraxas' arrival on the island."
John interrupted. "It's really not your fault—"
"Nonetheless," she said sharply, "He was reaching for me and Jade took my place. I would be remiss in not helping you recover her." She straightened. "Pack your things, I'm taking you to the Forsaken Fortress."
'I'm going too," Dave announced, to John's surprise. Putting his hand on his shoulder, Dave said, "Don't look at me like that. You guys are my best fucking friends. Besides," he straightened his sunglasses and there was once again an uncanny gleam. "Today's heroic labor was total bullshit. I want a do-over. Maybe we'll have a unison attack."
Bro clicked his tongue and flashed a cocky grin. "It's a good thing you volunteered because I was about to send you off for those same exact reasons."
Dave cocked an eyebrow. "Bro why do you think I volunteered? I mean c'mon I do learn things."
Nana let out a pained 'hoo hoo', and said, "Now here I thought you did it because you and Jade are the cutest couple on the island."
Bro nodded with a grunt. "That's probably it. He pretends he's good with women, but that girl's the only one for him, I can tell." As Bro proceeded to tease Dave relentlessly, Nana beckoned John over.
"Come with me, John," she said, tears in her eyes, "we're going home."
John shook his head. 'Didn't you hear—?"
"I heard quite well young man, but for once will you shut your mouth and do as you're told?" Her sharp tone stunned him into silence. Recovering a trace of her warmth, she said, "we won't be long, child. Just come along." They took the brief stroll up to their house. There was a low fence to keep out the wild pigs, a garden of straight, well-tended saplings and pink flowers, and a veranda looking out over the ocean. No matter what she told him, John was determined to leave it behind today. The thought made his eyes sting.
Once inside, she headed over to the family shield, took it down, and gave it to him. "The Triforce," she said, indicating the Triangle of Triangles, "to guide you." She slid her long, pale finger toward the heraldic beast underneath, like an owl with the head of a lion and the horns of a goat. "And a demon to protect you. That's what my family always used to say about this thing. Who knows if that's what the shield-makers were thinking, but that's what it means now." She sighed a deep, hollow sigh. Her ears, already dropping with age, seemed to have lost all structural integrity and were dangling lifelessly. "I always knew this day would come, but I never imagined it would hurt so much." She hugged him. "Go and bring back our poor Jade," she muttered into his ear. "Or bear an old woman's curse your whole life long!"
John jumped. "Huh?!"
"Hoohoohoo!"
When they emerged, John carried not only the family shield strapped to his back, but also two heavy packfuls of clothing and baked goods, one for himself and one for Dave. A boat had pulled into the docks in the intervening time, releasing a striking young woman currently having a heated argument with Karkat, who was probably Aranea's 'sister', and a tall, surly looking black Carapacian, with a thick white scar marring his chitinous skin right down his right eye, and a wicked looking hook where his hand and part of his forearm should have been. He was sitting on an old looking wooden chest, enameled blue and gilded with brass. "Okay, I'm ready," John said to Rose.
"Excellent," she said. "First Mate, say goodbye to your friend and meet our other new passenger, John Egbert." The young woman gave him a vicious grin. He could help but grin back. "My First Mate is as vicious a cutthroat as you will ever find on the Great Sea," Rose warned.
"Cool," said John.
"I like him," said Vriska. "He knows what's what."
"Mr. Slick, open the chest," Rose snapped. The Carapacian rolled his eyes and did so, revealing an enormous pile of rupees of every color, stamped with the ensigns of a dozen different nations. "Your compensation for any inconvenience we may have caused," she said diplomatically.
Bro clicked his tongue. "We don't need your money—"
"But we'll take it anyway," said Nana with a bright smile. "I've always wanted a tile roof. And the bridge needs repairing, as well. And don't you think the village will look better with a paved road?"
Bro rolled his eyes. "Sweet merciful Nayru, who decided we had to be in charge around here?"
Sweetly, Nana said, "I did of course!"
Vriska sighed and looked at the treasure longingly. "Seems like such a waste to use the whole spoils from the Holodrum job on one dead-end fishing village."
"You've been to Holodrum?" John asked. "What's it like? Do the seasons really change every day?"
She made an expansive gesture with her left arm. "Gather 'round my children and I'll tell you a tale—"
"We'll have time for that later," said Rose, voice quiet but cutting. "Everyone on the boat. If we set sail now, we'll make it by tomorrow night."
Quick goodbyes were exchanged, and then John and Dave were loaded onto the boat and made to row out to the Grimdark. A large crowd had gathered, well, large for this island. The village was fewer than a hundred people, and John knew them all by name. He tried to press the scene into his memory, having a feeling that he wouldn't be back for a long time. Then Vriska started singing a sea shanty about a troll denied entry into the navy because of her race that was shaping up to be interesting, until Aranea elbowed her in the ribs. "Nobody wants to hear about your sexual conquests," she whispered, only loud enough for someone with Hylian ears to hear. John snickered. Rose's mouth thinned to a slit.
The Grimdark was a massive ship, or so it seemed to Dave and John's eyes, which had never seen anything bigger than a war-canoe from the extreme south, the day Bro had proven his role as the island's defender beyond a shadow of a doubt. In actuality, like most ships of her kind the Grimdark was smaller than average for easy mobility, but she certainly had a presence that was unmatched by even the mightiest galleons. She was made of some very dark wood, each plank a work of art carved with looping whorls that might have been roots and vines, and might have been something else entirely. Her black sails bore a pair of crossed scimitars, holding up the same symbol that was present on Rose's dress. Of course, the most impressive thing was the figurehead, the enormous monstrosity of black wood that seemed to be a single piece, a horrorterror with a thousand tentacles of writhing thorns. Up close, they could see a vaguely heart shaped face with enormous eyes that were actually lamps, and the stem of the ship was the long, pointed, squid-like head, sheathed with black iron to serve as a ram. Monstrous, but beautiful.
Once aboard, Rose made introductions. "You've already met my First Mate," said Rose, indicating Vriska, "my navigator," Aranea gave a polite wave, "and my…Spades Slick," the gruff Carapacian scowled while playing with a butterfly knife, which promptly flew out of his hand and into the ocean. "His exact purpose on the ship appears to be fighting like a madman and then disappearing when there's real work to be done." With an expansive gesture, she turned to the rest of the assembled crewmen. "The rest of them are expendable. Go about your business. I'm awfully tired," and with that she retreated belowdecks, the crewmen giving her a wide berth, almost as if in awe.
Vriska smirked. "Okay, now that Miss Bossypants has gone to get her beauty rest, I'll make some proper introductions."
John was first introduced to the artillerist, Jake English, a boy that looked surprisingly like himself, although his eyes were green and he had the oddity of bright pink fur on his Hylian ears. "I should say we look nothing alike," the boy opined. "You're fair and I'm swarthy," he said, offering his hand.
"You always talk like that?" Dave asked, shaking his hand.
"English is an ironic nickname," Vriska explained. "We found him stranded on an island last year and he didn't speak a word of it. He only spoke Ancient Hylian. Natively."
"My grandmother was trying to prepare the world for some grand revival of civilization," he explained cheerily, "and hoped to expedite the process by bringing up a generation of children who could speak the 'sacred tongue'. Of course, she only had me!"
"That's the creepiest shit ever," Dave noted.
"I taught him English," Aranea broke in. "It was a very fascinating process, teaching a modern tongue to a speaker of a dead one. He had an entire set of expressions that made no logical sense in the modern context yet he used for everyday life, such as swearing by the name of 'Zelda', a being whose identity is unknown except for key references in the Edda and Rauru's Histories of—"
Vriska covered her sister's mouth. "Long story short, he talks like an old man because he was raised to. Next person."
Nepeta Leijon was a charming young troll with a swishy blue tail and stout triangular horns that looked like another pair of ears. She was sitting in a corner stroking the head of a white cat the size of a Calatian shepherd, with two broad mouths and glowing green eyes. "Are you in charge of the ship's cat?" John asked jokingly, as he bent to pet the creature.
She shook her head. "I am the ship's cat!" she said. "Pounce de Leon is head of security."
"What," Dave said.
Suddenly her tail suddenly stiffened and fluffed up, and she ran off on all fours faster than the eye could see. The cat licked its paw and smoothed out its head fur.
The boys were then hurriedly introduced to Sir Reginald-Dunsany Willoughby III and Smee, the cook. "Nak," said the esteemed gentleman. He was a one-eyed crocodile standing on his hind-legs with bright red scales.
"Word up," said Dave, raising his fist. Willoughby bumped it.
Smee said nothing, beak shut so firmly John doubted they could have pried a word out if they wanted. He shivered, his stout foreclaws clicking against his rose-pink shell. He was a tortoise, and pink as coral. "But damn," said Vriska, "can he cook. Let's meet someone else before he gets used to you and talks your ear off."
In all, the crew totaled around twenty people of all races and varying degrees of sentience. In all the commotion, the two boys barely eve noticed Outset Island disappearing over the horizon.
Author's note: "Mitspeiler, are we ever gonna get to the Forsaken Fortress or are you just gonna bog us down in existential morass and admittedly hilarious jokes?" Quiet you, I'm creating (that's a yes to both)! Next chapter, Forsaken Fortress, one way or another, and then after we clear our first dungeon (those of you who've played the game are laughing) it's off to the real adventure.
This chapter was mostly character/world building, very little plot, this segment takes like two minutes to do in the game and I somehow stretched it out into an eight page document. Word up.
Does Rose seem a bit bitchy? Good. She did grow up in this world without the calming influence of her canon friends. And Jake's ears are a reference to A Link to the Past. See y'all again real soon.
