Welcome to Chapter one
Note and disclaimer: "Final Fantasy, Zenosaga, Chrono Trigger/Cross, Secret of Mana" are all properties of Squaresoft. Evangelion belongs to Gainax. All the rest, well... to their respective owners... I'm sorry, but it can get crazy at times I tend to lose track of who is popping in and out...
The World is Square
The Quest Begins
Two weeks have passed since the fall of Baron and the new year was upon them. This day marked not only the first millenium since the journey of Dario, a journey that united the Kingdoms of Zenan and brought peace to the known world, it also marked one year to the day when Kefka started his conquest of the world. In the town on Onrac the number of tents and makeshift shelters were as numerous as the permanent houses themselves. Onrac had welcomed the citizens of Baron into their own, but re-building would take time. Former knights became guardians of the town or worked in the large prison secluded in the mountains to the east.
For two men, their job was quite different. The young Knight Cecil stood at the gates of the town, facing the dry arid plains to the southwest. He spent the day preparing, preparing for a trip across the Grand Desert to the western coast, where he would find his brother in Fatima.
"You look ready for anything, Cecil."
A tall armored figure walked up beside him. He removed his ornate sapphire dragon-head helmet and set his gaze on the horizon.
Cecil:"I can't believe you're staying behind, Kain"
Kain:"Someone needs to. Who's going to lead the men if we both go?"
Cecil:"The Red Wing's gone. Let go. The city guards already have a Marshall."
Kain:"Their Marshall doesn't know our men. I've worked with them for years."
Cecil:"Well then, do a good job. I'm off to Fatima."
And with that, Cecil headed to the west.
***
Interlude
Marbule, a remote island as yet unexplored by the human populace. Home to a populace of metahumans. They live in the shadow of the tower of Kefka, not that they are under his rule or anything, he considers them inferior to him, not deserving of his interest. They too have witnessed the horrors Kefka has unleashed, and some have organized a small party to strike back.
Tor- a black-stripped white tiger monk
Seera- a grey short fur cat-girl priest
Maak- a lizard warrior
and the one who organized them- Lynx a wizard.
***
Cecil wandered past the dry plains and into the desert. Night fell and with it came a cool breeze. Cecil removed the tent from his backpack and began to set up camp. After camp was set, he pulled out some dried meat sticks and had dinner. He relaxed for awhile and then began polishing his helmet so that it didn't get ruined by the harsh winds and sand.
A sharp whistling sound rung out from the hills in the north. An arrow pierced Cecil's hand and rung out a *ping! as it struck against his helmet. Cecil dropped his helmet and gripped his wrist, and with blood squirting out of his right palm, ducked into his tent and curled low against the back pole. As Cecil pulled the arrow the rest of the way from his hand he noticed his sight turned into a large blur. He hastily poured a potion on his hand that closed his wound and grabbed his sword and shield and readied them for when his attackers would show themselves. Blinded or not, he could hold his own if need be. He felt disgusted that someone would attack him with such low respect for a fair fight. Another whistling arrow shot forth, this one piercing through nothing more than the side of the tent. Realizing the futility of waiting, Cecil slid out of the back of the tent and charged toards the hills, shield raised half-over his face to protect his helmetless head. He thinks back at when he dropped the helmet and how bad of an idea that was to panic like that. His mind focuses back on the task at hand, the temporary blindness already fading. He concentrates as he hurries up the hill, attempting to pick out how many assailants he has to contend with. With the fire he made at his back, his opponents were at a great advantage, Cecil charged in with a great long shadow cast in front of him... a great offer of concealment for the trained theif who crouched low, ready to strike with his twin daggers.
***
They had traveled together for months now, wandering the northern half of the continent in search of items they could use on their own quest. One came out of the wreckage in Alexandria, where he worked in the local theatre. The other, he says he is from a far off land, looking for treasure anywhere he can find it. Now they attack a man in the desert, hopefully his armor is worth enough to re-equip them and keep them warm in the coming winter season.
Thief:"Look over there, I tell you, this is a sign that we are doing the right thing."
Archer:"Yeah, Yeah... everything's a sign to you."
The archer looks down at the campsite with a keen eye, studing the grounds to find any clue as to what they are up against. He spots the man's shining blue helmet. The tedious care he puts into shining it. The two gauntlets laying on the ground on a folded cloth show he takes pride in having what he has. This man earned his armor, he concluded. This man is a knight, not a wanderer or a thief. This needs to be done quick, and with stealth and precision.
Thief:"Come on! You ready, are are ya just gonna sit there all night?"
Archer:"Be quiet... this man is a Knight of Baron."
Thief:"So he's a bucket-head. Big deal. I've taken their type before. Besides, we've got surprise and range on him."
Archer:"We won't if you don't be quiet. His helmet... I don't recognize it... that's not a typical helmet." *sigh "Get in position, and find some cover. Wait for him to rush in."
Thief:"Good. Time for some fun."
He turned to find a rock to hide behind, stopped and remarked:
Thief:"Hey Locke! Don't miss!"
He snickered at the archer, who shot him a glare of annoyance, and took his place a few yards away.
Locke found his target, the knight's hand. Without it, he would be surely weakened in a fight. He pulled back on his Nightstalker bow, held his stance firm and waited for the right moment. The knight switched which hand he polished his helmet with, from right to left, and held his helmet firmly with his right hand. An open target at last! The arrow, tipped with a poison that would render it's target with a temporary blindness, flew with accuracy, piercing the knight's hand. The knight scrambled into his tent, dropping the helmet in the sand. Locke took a second arrow and readied it, studing the tent to find where to shoot. After a few moments of careful decision, Locke lets a second arrow fly. It punctures the center of the tent. No sound is heard, Locke gets a third arrow ready. Before he can nock the third arrow, the knight slides out of the back of the tent, sword and shield in hand. Locke takes a glance at the thief, who is inching along the ground, moving into position. The thief is in the direct path of the charging knight.
Cecil rushed into the hill, only half-prepared for battle, he had no time to equip himself with armor. As he ran to the rocks at the crest of the hill he saw the glistening blades of the thief almost directly below him spring up from the ground and cut deep into both of his legs. The thief looked as if he was smiling as he raised the twin daggers, now dripping in a sheath of blood, over his head, preparing them to strike again. Cecil jumped at the thief shield first, smashing it against the thief's upper body. They both landed on the ground with a thud, but Cecil landed on top of the thief, giving the advantage to him for the moment. Letting go of the shield, Cecil concentrated instead on restraining the thief's daggers. He wasn't ready, however, to have another arrow run him through.
This arrow pierced his gut in his right side, throwing him off of the thief. Taking advantage of given situations are what a good thief knows how to do, so Cecil recieves two more slices to his legs before he loses his shield and sword. Cecil turns and sees the two men running for the camp and then... only haze. Trying to focus, Cecil blinks and wipes his eyes, attempting to clean them of sand. Finding it hard to hold his head up, he turns onto his back and looks to the sky asking for help.
***
Sounds of grinding gears and klanking hammers rouse Cecil from his sleep. He wakes to find himself in a iron room with light peeking in from the solitary circular window in the door. After checking himself over, he finds that he has been healed of his wounds. he rises up, looks around and checks the door. It opens, much to his surprise, and he walks into the hall. The hall is much like his room, iron walls, grated floors, lights hanging from a tall celing. Two guards approach Cecil from across the hall.
Male Guard:"You're up."
Female Guard:"Come with us, please."
The man is wearing Brown armor, a light helmet, and a spear. The woman is wearing a light Green Breastplate, and a white cape. She looks like she's in charge here.
Cecil:"Where am I?"
Woman:"You're safe. You're in a safe place."
Cecil:"Who are you?"
The two guards looked at each other then looked back at the knight...
Woman:"My name is Celes. This is Wedge. May I ask the same of you?"
Cecil:"Mine is Cecil. Where are we going?"
Celes:"You ask alot of quesions. We are going outside to the commons."
After a few doors and halls, the three of them reached the outside. Cecil Looked around, the outside was expansive, leaning towers and grassy growths peeking out of the twisted roadways. The thing that struck Cecil was the banners hanging from the large Towers along the walls of the circular structure. The banners of red with gold symbols foreign to him, although the symbol's meaning are foreign to him, he knows of these banners are that they are the same banners that Kefka uses when he sends his army on raids.
Note and disclaimer: "Final Fantasy, Zenosaga, Chrono Trigger/Cross, Secret of Mana" are all properties of Squaresoft. Evangelion belongs to Gainax. All the rest, well... to their respective owners... I'm sorry, but it can get crazy at times I tend to lose track of who is popping in and out...
The World is Square
The Quest Begins
Two weeks have passed since the fall of Baron and the new year was upon them. This day marked not only the first millenium since the journey of Dario, a journey that united the Kingdoms of Zenan and brought peace to the known world, it also marked one year to the day when Kefka started his conquest of the world. In the town on Onrac the number of tents and makeshift shelters were as numerous as the permanent houses themselves. Onrac had welcomed the citizens of Baron into their own, but re-building would take time. Former knights became guardians of the town or worked in the large prison secluded in the mountains to the east.
For two men, their job was quite different. The young Knight Cecil stood at the gates of the town, facing the dry arid plains to the southwest. He spent the day preparing, preparing for a trip across the Grand Desert to the western coast, where he would find his brother in Fatima.
"You look ready for anything, Cecil."
A tall armored figure walked up beside him. He removed his ornate sapphire dragon-head helmet and set his gaze on the horizon.
Cecil:"I can't believe you're staying behind, Kain"
Kain:"Someone needs to. Who's going to lead the men if we both go?"
Cecil:"The Red Wing's gone. Let go. The city guards already have a Marshall."
Kain:"Their Marshall doesn't know our men. I've worked with them for years."
Cecil:"Well then, do a good job. I'm off to Fatima."
And with that, Cecil headed to the west.
***
Interlude
Marbule, a remote island as yet unexplored by the human populace. Home to a populace of metahumans. They live in the shadow of the tower of Kefka, not that they are under his rule or anything, he considers them inferior to him, not deserving of his interest. They too have witnessed the horrors Kefka has unleashed, and some have organized a small party to strike back.
Tor- a black-stripped white tiger monk
Seera- a grey short fur cat-girl priest
Maak- a lizard warrior
and the one who organized them- Lynx a wizard.
***
Cecil wandered past the dry plains and into the desert. Night fell and with it came a cool breeze. Cecil removed the tent from his backpack and began to set up camp. After camp was set, he pulled out some dried meat sticks and had dinner. He relaxed for awhile and then began polishing his helmet so that it didn't get ruined by the harsh winds and sand.
A sharp whistling sound rung out from the hills in the north. An arrow pierced Cecil's hand and rung out a *ping! as it struck against his helmet. Cecil dropped his helmet and gripped his wrist, and with blood squirting out of his right palm, ducked into his tent and curled low against the back pole. As Cecil pulled the arrow the rest of the way from his hand he noticed his sight turned into a large blur. He hastily poured a potion on his hand that closed his wound and grabbed his sword and shield and readied them for when his attackers would show themselves. Blinded or not, he could hold his own if need be. He felt disgusted that someone would attack him with such low respect for a fair fight. Another whistling arrow shot forth, this one piercing through nothing more than the side of the tent. Realizing the futility of waiting, Cecil slid out of the back of the tent and charged toards the hills, shield raised half-over his face to protect his helmetless head. He thinks back at when he dropped the helmet and how bad of an idea that was to panic like that. His mind focuses back on the task at hand, the temporary blindness already fading. He concentrates as he hurries up the hill, attempting to pick out how many assailants he has to contend with. With the fire he made at his back, his opponents were at a great advantage, Cecil charged in with a great long shadow cast in front of him... a great offer of concealment for the trained theif who crouched low, ready to strike with his twin daggers.
***
They had traveled together for months now, wandering the northern half of the continent in search of items they could use on their own quest. One came out of the wreckage in Alexandria, where he worked in the local theatre. The other, he says he is from a far off land, looking for treasure anywhere he can find it. Now they attack a man in the desert, hopefully his armor is worth enough to re-equip them and keep them warm in the coming winter season.
Thief:"Look over there, I tell you, this is a sign that we are doing the right thing."
Archer:"Yeah, Yeah... everything's a sign to you."
The archer looks down at the campsite with a keen eye, studing the grounds to find any clue as to what they are up against. He spots the man's shining blue helmet. The tedious care he puts into shining it. The two gauntlets laying on the ground on a folded cloth show he takes pride in having what he has. This man earned his armor, he concluded. This man is a knight, not a wanderer or a thief. This needs to be done quick, and with stealth and precision.
Thief:"Come on! You ready, are are ya just gonna sit there all night?"
Archer:"Be quiet... this man is a Knight of Baron."
Thief:"So he's a bucket-head. Big deal. I've taken their type before. Besides, we've got surprise and range on him."
Archer:"We won't if you don't be quiet. His helmet... I don't recognize it... that's not a typical helmet." *sigh "Get in position, and find some cover. Wait for him to rush in."
Thief:"Good. Time for some fun."
He turned to find a rock to hide behind, stopped and remarked:
Thief:"Hey Locke! Don't miss!"
He snickered at the archer, who shot him a glare of annoyance, and took his place a few yards away.
Locke found his target, the knight's hand. Without it, he would be surely weakened in a fight. He pulled back on his Nightstalker bow, held his stance firm and waited for the right moment. The knight switched which hand he polished his helmet with, from right to left, and held his helmet firmly with his right hand. An open target at last! The arrow, tipped with a poison that would render it's target with a temporary blindness, flew with accuracy, piercing the knight's hand. The knight scrambled into his tent, dropping the helmet in the sand. Locke took a second arrow and readied it, studing the tent to find where to shoot. After a few moments of careful decision, Locke lets a second arrow fly. It punctures the center of the tent. No sound is heard, Locke gets a third arrow ready. Before he can nock the third arrow, the knight slides out of the back of the tent, sword and shield in hand. Locke takes a glance at the thief, who is inching along the ground, moving into position. The thief is in the direct path of the charging knight.
Cecil rushed into the hill, only half-prepared for battle, he had no time to equip himself with armor. As he ran to the rocks at the crest of the hill he saw the glistening blades of the thief almost directly below him spring up from the ground and cut deep into both of his legs. The thief looked as if he was smiling as he raised the twin daggers, now dripping in a sheath of blood, over his head, preparing them to strike again. Cecil jumped at the thief shield first, smashing it against the thief's upper body. They both landed on the ground with a thud, but Cecil landed on top of the thief, giving the advantage to him for the moment. Letting go of the shield, Cecil concentrated instead on restraining the thief's daggers. He wasn't ready, however, to have another arrow run him through.
This arrow pierced his gut in his right side, throwing him off of the thief. Taking advantage of given situations are what a good thief knows how to do, so Cecil recieves two more slices to his legs before he loses his shield and sword. Cecil turns and sees the two men running for the camp and then... only haze. Trying to focus, Cecil blinks and wipes his eyes, attempting to clean them of sand. Finding it hard to hold his head up, he turns onto his back and looks to the sky asking for help.
***
Sounds of grinding gears and klanking hammers rouse Cecil from his sleep. He wakes to find himself in a iron room with light peeking in from the solitary circular window in the door. After checking himself over, he finds that he has been healed of his wounds. he rises up, looks around and checks the door. It opens, much to his surprise, and he walks into the hall. The hall is much like his room, iron walls, grated floors, lights hanging from a tall celing. Two guards approach Cecil from across the hall.
Male Guard:"You're up."
Female Guard:"Come with us, please."
The man is wearing Brown armor, a light helmet, and a spear. The woman is wearing a light Green Breastplate, and a white cape. She looks like she's in charge here.
Cecil:"Where am I?"
Woman:"You're safe. You're in a safe place."
Cecil:"Who are you?"
The two guards looked at each other then looked back at the knight...
Woman:"My name is Celes. This is Wedge. May I ask the same of you?"
Cecil:"Mine is Cecil. Where are we going?"
Celes:"You ask alot of quesions. We are going outside to the commons."
After a few doors and halls, the three of them reached the outside. Cecil Looked around, the outside was expansive, leaning towers and grassy growths peeking out of the twisted roadways. The thing that struck Cecil was the banners hanging from the large Towers along the walls of the circular structure. The banners of red with gold symbols foreign to him, although the symbol's meaning are foreign to him, he knows of these banners are that they are the same banners that Kefka uses when he sends his army on raids.