Author's Note: Okey dokey, welcome to a new fic. I'm pretty sure nobody has
done this before, because simply put, about 75% of people who have played
the game hate Dart's guts, and the others just don't do something like
this. Basically, I started this story because I think that too many people
think Dart's a total idiot and write him off as a stereotypical hero
without really delving deep into him. However, I feel that there are a few
things I should express before I get this going.
First off, character. Keep in mind that this is MY take on Dart's character, which differs greatly from most. Thus, I don't want to hear about how out of character Dart is in my story, because that's the point. This is my spin on the game and on Dart. So don't tell me that I should have made Dart stupid, because that kind of defeats the whole purpose of me writing this.
Secondly, dialogue. For those of you that have memorized every line of the game and live by it like your holy scripture, you not only have my everlasting pity, but you will be disappointed by this fic. This won't follow the exact wording of every line in the game. That would not only make this fic unoriginal and boring, but since the translation sucked so much, who would want to follow the same exact dialogue? Therefore, I have twisted it to serve my purposes.
Finally, rating. As stated in the summary, this is not some happy-go-lucky story in which the Snuggle Armadillos go around giving all the bad guys fluffy cupcakes and great big hugs. (Yes, I made that up. It's not some Nickelodeon rerun.) This story contains a great deal of swearing, as well as a pretty sizeable amount of gore. Unlike my other serious fic, not all of the baddies disappear when they die. There are some humans among the villains in this story, and therefore it gives me all sorts of opportunities to describe death in nasty ways. Which I will, in great detail. Leave sappy romance to other writers, I do morbid battle scenes better. You don't like that, tough. I'm writing the story.
Anyway, I apologize for making you all read that, on with the story!
Chapter 1
I sighed as I watched the sun lower behind the hills. I sat down on a nearby boulder; my crimson armor making a hollow thud as it struck the heavy granite. I had been gone for years, and yet I had not found a single damn trace of the thing. The Black Monster couldn't have just vanished into thin air. As I thought that, I mentally shook myself. How do you know it can't? You don't know a thing about it, and yet you've spanned the globe chasing after it, searching for something that most people believe is something out of a child's bedtime story.
But bitterness would get me nowhere now. I was home, for better or for worse. Seles... it had been far too long. I wondered briefly how grizzled old Master Tasman was doing. I heard about his crippling injury from one of the letters I received from Shana, my 'baby sister'. She would be nineteen now; it seemed almost impossible.
But my daydreams of home were rudely interrupted by something very big tromping through the forest, making a godawful noise in the process, I might add. I drew my weapon, keeping a finger on each side of the blade to muffle the sound of metal scraping metal; it burst through the line of trees rather ungraciously. Despite an overpowering urge to drop my sword and run for my life, I did a quick assessment of the creature.
It was the strangest creature I had ever seen. Its body was bulbous and an almost fluorescent green color. It had six legs, which were long, but jointed and constantly bent therefore given them the illusion of appearing stumpy. Its arms were also jointed, ending in wicked claws. Its head was triangular, with two gleaming tusks that looked like they could punch through my armor as if it was paper and beady black eyes. It looked like an enormous insect, but there was something distinctly reptilian about it.
At this point, I formally decided that it would be far more beneficial to my health to get out of this thing's way. I treated it like a bear, backing away slowly, not wishing to excite it into giving chase. However, since I was far more focused on the looming monster before me than what lay behind, my foot caught on a rock and I tripped. As I was falling to the grassy earth, my only thought was what an inopportune situation I had chosen to lose my footing. Then I felt something grab my arm and drag me from impending doom.
"Shut up if you don't want to die."
Due more to the fact a gloved hand was clamped over my mouth more than anything else, I followed that advice and remained silent. The beast must have had incredibly poor eyesight or very little taste for human flesh, for it lumbered on past as if it had never seen me. Judging by the warning I had been given, I assumed it was the former. Once it was safely out of sight, I let out a sigh of relief and turned to thank my mysterious rescuer. We looked at each other at exactly the same time.
I had guessed that this enigma was a woman when I heard her feminine voice, but I was hardly prepared for what I saw. She was dressed in deep purple armor, her breastplate embossed with a gold design, and although it was more than a little extravagant, it did not look gaudy on her. She looked as though she suffered with it, as one must with a necessity. A rapier hung from her belt, and I had no doubt from her stance that she could use it to deadly effect. Her hair was jet black and it fell down below her elbows, held in place with a simple gold band. Her face was pale and finely tuned, which made her look as if her face had been carved from marble.
When she saw my face, her eyes widened, as if she recognized me from somewhere. When I thought about it, there was something oddly familiar about her as well. Perhaps we had met somewhere along our respective travels. She appeared about to say something when I saw smoke in the distance. That was coming from Seles! Muttering an inarticulate expression of gratitude, I hurried towards the source of the curling ominous cloud.
A dozen reasons why I shouldn't be so worried flitted through my mind. A celebration bonfire, maybe. Perhaps someone had left a candle underneath a straw roof for too long. Or maybe just an ordinary mishap. But those were shallow and faithless, and I knew it. Deep down in the pit of my stomach, I knew what had truly happened.
Soa, please don't do this to me again...
As I reached the town, all my fears were confirmed. My home was consumed in flames. It was Neet all over again. My pace quickened as my body began to fully comprehend the situation. I wanted to help, but I knew it was all over. I was far too late to prevent this disaster, just as I had been too young and helpless to save Neet and my parents from that accursed Black Monster.
I drew my sword once more. Reflections of the fire danced across the weapon, but the hard steel remained cold as ice. I knew what would warm it, though. Every inch of the blade screamed with a passion for blood, and I was more than happy to give it the chance. Someone would pay for this.
Passing through the village, I saw that some of the citizens had managed to survive. Men and women dragged their children from their burning homes, their faces blackened with soot. The farther I went, the grimmer the scene became. Finally I spotted the perpetrators, who watched in cruel amusement as the sinless people of my town scampered about in fear. Two soldiers and a commander all bedecked in the symbols of Sandora.
They were not Black Monsters. But they could bleed, and that would satisfy me, at least for now.
One of the guards nudged the leader to warn them of my approach, but that did not cause me any sort of inconvenience. I walked towards them deliberately and slowly, for there was no point in wasting energy rushing into battle. Even as the rage surged within me, I forced myself to remain calm. Tasman had always taught never to let your bloodlust control you. Rages were powerful but inaccurate, and they were easily defeated by a skilled opponent. Although I doubted any of these three fitted that demographic, I still stuck to my training. Besides, I needed some information.
"What have you done with Shana?"
The officer's eyes glinted with dark humor, as if he were intensely enjoying all of this. But deep within his gaze, I detected a hint of anxiety. His soldiers were most likely raw recruits, and they looked as though they had the combined brains of a side of beef. They held their spears awkwardly, and they appeared unused to the weight of the chainmail that they wore. As for the commander, his armor was mostly ceremonial, showing that he had expected little, if any, resistance from the populace. That decision was both arrogant and foolish, for his band would have been cut down in an instant had they found any organized opposition. It was clear why this man was in charge of raiding farming villages instead of commanding troops. They were nothing than playground bullies, preying upon the weak. They would find that I hardly fit that classification.
The leader finally decided to speak. "Shana? Ah, the girl. Well, trust me, had it been my decision, she would be dead by now. However, my superiors appear to have other plans for her. They took her to Hellena Prison, for further... interrogation."
He said the final word with a pronounced sneer. The thought of my innocent baby sister Shana stuck in a filthy cell with some grimy guard leering at her day and night made my blood burn. I gripped the hilt of my sword tighter, trying to channel my anger out of my body before I exploded from the pressure. I would gain nothing further while all three of them were standing. My body tensed, I was on my toes, ready to spring.
"Of course we can't let you live. You're obviously going to go after her, and that would irritate my superiors to no end."
I waited for one of them to make a move, but when it appeared that none was forthcoming, I decided to break the tension and get this over with. One of the guards drew a breath, the breath that would ultimately be his last. The last of my restraint snapped, and I swung into action, heading for the soldier. So surprised by my sudden lunge, the guard made no move to block my attack, a mistake that would prove fatal. My blade swiped across his chest, catching one of the chainmail links and slicing the crude leather beneath. I reversed the stroke, and it too scored a hit.
The two glistening crimson gashes ran parallel on his chest, his bodily fluids slowly leaking through his grasp. Blood bubbled forth from his mouth, coming forth and bursting not unlike the last few moments of his life. Eventually, he collapsed. I turned from his body to the remaining antagonists.
The commander also glanced at the carcass in distaste, before he turned to me. He lunged and thrusted, obviously aiming to split my vulnerable kneecaps with the point of his blade. Feeling my lip curl in derision, I leapt backwards to avoid the blade, not even willing to expend the energy necessary to parry the clumsy strike. I saw the other guard hurl a Burn Out in my direction. Because I was already in motion, I was not able to avoid this new threat as well as I would have had I parried the officer's blow. I winced as I felt the flames erupt nearby, but it was a mere irritant, nothing more. Heat had never bothered me much, although I couldn't fathom why.
I knew next to nothing about Sandora, but Sarge and the boys, as I had affectionately dubbed them, certainly didn't impress me much. Even though the officer was obviously incompetent and only assigned this job to find a plausible use for him, I still had my doubts. If all the soldiers were as stupid and brutish as these were, I had no doubt that the highly trained knighthoods of Basil would wipe Sandora out should a war begin, despite the northern country's superior numbers. But Sandoran politics mattered little to me.
After the Burn Out expired, I got tired of dealing with these fools. I decided to head for the leader and finish this endeavor. I struck, and as I suspected, the armor offered little resistance. Thinking he could predict my next stroke from his unfortunate comrade's experience, he moved his weapon to block. I merely flicked my wrist, adjusting my grip on the hilt, and brought the sword downward, so that the two strokes crossed.
Despite the two slashes, the officer had not quite decided to give up the ghost, quite yet, but I remedied that with a thrust through his gut. Cleaning the various fluids from my blade, I glanced up at the final soldier. Making probably the smartest decision of his life, he had fled his death, dropping his spear behind him. I was not quite don with him yet. I needed more information on Shana's whereabouts.
My churning legs easily outpaced his fearful stumbling, despite the fact I was in full armor. I caught him by the shoulder blade and rammed him into a partially burned wall. The charred wood crumbled beneath the impact, but I retained my grip, shifting it to his neck, a far better place for a hand when in intense diplomatic negotiations. I twisted his collar, cutting off his breath. The chainmail links in my hands cut into my skin, but I bore the discomfort. This would not take long. "Where is this hellhole they have Shana locked up in?"
The soldier made a choking noise, indicating that my hold was a little too tight. Since I still needed information from him, I loosened my grip. But not much. After attempting to gain enough breath to speak several times and not succeeding, he eventually gave up and lifted a trembling finger. Northwest. I let him go, his knees giving way beneath him. I knew he was still alive, but I left his crumpled body where it was. There was no point in wasting the effort to finish the pathetic wretch off. If he rejoined the army, I would probably kill him at some point later anyway. If he had any sense, however, he would desert, make it look like he had died, then get back to his miserable life far away from the army.
Of course, I was hardly in a position to call anyone miserable at the moment. Finally, I ducked out of the village. I would have stayed and helped out the survivors, but Shana needed my help. I paid a brief visit to Master Tasman, who was more than willing to give me a few pointers before I went along my way. No one appeared alarmed by my hastiness to leave. I had always been looking out for Shana.
But I hadn't this time. Twice my home had been destroyed due to my own inability do defend it. I took a silent vow that day. It would never happen again.
Author's Note: Like I said, not a happy fic. I liked the way it turned out though.
First off, character. Keep in mind that this is MY take on Dart's character, which differs greatly from most. Thus, I don't want to hear about how out of character Dart is in my story, because that's the point. This is my spin on the game and on Dart. So don't tell me that I should have made Dart stupid, because that kind of defeats the whole purpose of me writing this.
Secondly, dialogue. For those of you that have memorized every line of the game and live by it like your holy scripture, you not only have my everlasting pity, but you will be disappointed by this fic. This won't follow the exact wording of every line in the game. That would not only make this fic unoriginal and boring, but since the translation sucked so much, who would want to follow the same exact dialogue? Therefore, I have twisted it to serve my purposes.
Finally, rating. As stated in the summary, this is not some happy-go-lucky story in which the Snuggle Armadillos go around giving all the bad guys fluffy cupcakes and great big hugs. (Yes, I made that up. It's not some Nickelodeon rerun.) This story contains a great deal of swearing, as well as a pretty sizeable amount of gore. Unlike my other serious fic, not all of the baddies disappear when they die. There are some humans among the villains in this story, and therefore it gives me all sorts of opportunities to describe death in nasty ways. Which I will, in great detail. Leave sappy romance to other writers, I do morbid battle scenes better. You don't like that, tough. I'm writing the story.
Anyway, I apologize for making you all read that, on with the story!
Chapter 1
I sighed as I watched the sun lower behind the hills. I sat down on a nearby boulder; my crimson armor making a hollow thud as it struck the heavy granite. I had been gone for years, and yet I had not found a single damn trace of the thing. The Black Monster couldn't have just vanished into thin air. As I thought that, I mentally shook myself. How do you know it can't? You don't know a thing about it, and yet you've spanned the globe chasing after it, searching for something that most people believe is something out of a child's bedtime story.
But bitterness would get me nowhere now. I was home, for better or for worse. Seles... it had been far too long. I wondered briefly how grizzled old Master Tasman was doing. I heard about his crippling injury from one of the letters I received from Shana, my 'baby sister'. She would be nineteen now; it seemed almost impossible.
But my daydreams of home were rudely interrupted by something very big tromping through the forest, making a godawful noise in the process, I might add. I drew my weapon, keeping a finger on each side of the blade to muffle the sound of metal scraping metal; it burst through the line of trees rather ungraciously. Despite an overpowering urge to drop my sword and run for my life, I did a quick assessment of the creature.
It was the strangest creature I had ever seen. Its body was bulbous and an almost fluorescent green color. It had six legs, which were long, but jointed and constantly bent therefore given them the illusion of appearing stumpy. Its arms were also jointed, ending in wicked claws. Its head was triangular, with two gleaming tusks that looked like they could punch through my armor as if it was paper and beady black eyes. It looked like an enormous insect, but there was something distinctly reptilian about it.
At this point, I formally decided that it would be far more beneficial to my health to get out of this thing's way. I treated it like a bear, backing away slowly, not wishing to excite it into giving chase. However, since I was far more focused on the looming monster before me than what lay behind, my foot caught on a rock and I tripped. As I was falling to the grassy earth, my only thought was what an inopportune situation I had chosen to lose my footing. Then I felt something grab my arm and drag me from impending doom.
"Shut up if you don't want to die."
Due more to the fact a gloved hand was clamped over my mouth more than anything else, I followed that advice and remained silent. The beast must have had incredibly poor eyesight or very little taste for human flesh, for it lumbered on past as if it had never seen me. Judging by the warning I had been given, I assumed it was the former. Once it was safely out of sight, I let out a sigh of relief and turned to thank my mysterious rescuer. We looked at each other at exactly the same time.
I had guessed that this enigma was a woman when I heard her feminine voice, but I was hardly prepared for what I saw. She was dressed in deep purple armor, her breastplate embossed with a gold design, and although it was more than a little extravagant, it did not look gaudy on her. She looked as though she suffered with it, as one must with a necessity. A rapier hung from her belt, and I had no doubt from her stance that she could use it to deadly effect. Her hair was jet black and it fell down below her elbows, held in place with a simple gold band. Her face was pale and finely tuned, which made her look as if her face had been carved from marble.
When she saw my face, her eyes widened, as if she recognized me from somewhere. When I thought about it, there was something oddly familiar about her as well. Perhaps we had met somewhere along our respective travels. She appeared about to say something when I saw smoke in the distance. That was coming from Seles! Muttering an inarticulate expression of gratitude, I hurried towards the source of the curling ominous cloud.
A dozen reasons why I shouldn't be so worried flitted through my mind. A celebration bonfire, maybe. Perhaps someone had left a candle underneath a straw roof for too long. Or maybe just an ordinary mishap. But those were shallow and faithless, and I knew it. Deep down in the pit of my stomach, I knew what had truly happened.
Soa, please don't do this to me again...
As I reached the town, all my fears were confirmed. My home was consumed in flames. It was Neet all over again. My pace quickened as my body began to fully comprehend the situation. I wanted to help, but I knew it was all over. I was far too late to prevent this disaster, just as I had been too young and helpless to save Neet and my parents from that accursed Black Monster.
I drew my sword once more. Reflections of the fire danced across the weapon, but the hard steel remained cold as ice. I knew what would warm it, though. Every inch of the blade screamed with a passion for blood, and I was more than happy to give it the chance. Someone would pay for this.
Passing through the village, I saw that some of the citizens had managed to survive. Men and women dragged their children from their burning homes, their faces blackened with soot. The farther I went, the grimmer the scene became. Finally I spotted the perpetrators, who watched in cruel amusement as the sinless people of my town scampered about in fear. Two soldiers and a commander all bedecked in the symbols of Sandora.
They were not Black Monsters. But they could bleed, and that would satisfy me, at least for now.
One of the guards nudged the leader to warn them of my approach, but that did not cause me any sort of inconvenience. I walked towards them deliberately and slowly, for there was no point in wasting energy rushing into battle. Even as the rage surged within me, I forced myself to remain calm. Tasman had always taught never to let your bloodlust control you. Rages were powerful but inaccurate, and they were easily defeated by a skilled opponent. Although I doubted any of these three fitted that demographic, I still stuck to my training. Besides, I needed some information.
"What have you done with Shana?"
The officer's eyes glinted with dark humor, as if he were intensely enjoying all of this. But deep within his gaze, I detected a hint of anxiety. His soldiers were most likely raw recruits, and they looked as though they had the combined brains of a side of beef. They held their spears awkwardly, and they appeared unused to the weight of the chainmail that they wore. As for the commander, his armor was mostly ceremonial, showing that he had expected little, if any, resistance from the populace. That decision was both arrogant and foolish, for his band would have been cut down in an instant had they found any organized opposition. It was clear why this man was in charge of raiding farming villages instead of commanding troops. They were nothing than playground bullies, preying upon the weak. They would find that I hardly fit that classification.
The leader finally decided to speak. "Shana? Ah, the girl. Well, trust me, had it been my decision, she would be dead by now. However, my superiors appear to have other plans for her. They took her to Hellena Prison, for further... interrogation."
He said the final word with a pronounced sneer. The thought of my innocent baby sister Shana stuck in a filthy cell with some grimy guard leering at her day and night made my blood burn. I gripped the hilt of my sword tighter, trying to channel my anger out of my body before I exploded from the pressure. I would gain nothing further while all three of them were standing. My body tensed, I was on my toes, ready to spring.
"Of course we can't let you live. You're obviously going to go after her, and that would irritate my superiors to no end."
I waited for one of them to make a move, but when it appeared that none was forthcoming, I decided to break the tension and get this over with. One of the guards drew a breath, the breath that would ultimately be his last. The last of my restraint snapped, and I swung into action, heading for the soldier. So surprised by my sudden lunge, the guard made no move to block my attack, a mistake that would prove fatal. My blade swiped across his chest, catching one of the chainmail links and slicing the crude leather beneath. I reversed the stroke, and it too scored a hit.
The two glistening crimson gashes ran parallel on his chest, his bodily fluids slowly leaking through his grasp. Blood bubbled forth from his mouth, coming forth and bursting not unlike the last few moments of his life. Eventually, he collapsed. I turned from his body to the remaining antagonists.
The commander also glanced at the carcass in distaste, before he turned to me. He lunged and thrusted, obviously aiming to split my vulnerable kneecaps with the point of his blade. Feeling my lip curl in derision, I leapt backwards to avoid the blade, not even willing to expend the energy necessary to parry the clumsy strike. I saw the other guard hurl a Burn Out in my direction. Because I was already in motion, I was not able to avoid this new threat as well as I would have had I parried the officer's blow. I winced as I felt the flames erupt nearby, but it was a mere irritant, nothing more. Heat had never bothered me much, although I couldn't fathom why.
I knew next to nothing about Sandora, but Sarge and the boys, as I had affectionately dubbed them, certainly didn't impress me much. Even though the officer was obviously incompetent and only assigned this job to find a plausible use for him, I still had my doubts. If all the soldiers were as stupid and brutish as these were, I had no doubt that the highly trained knighthoods of Basil would wipe Sandora out should a war begin, despite the northern country's superior numbers. But Sandoran politics mattered little to me.
After the Burn Out expired, I got tired of dealing with these fools. I decided to head for the leader and finish this endeavor. I struck, and as I suspected, the armor offered little resistance. Thinking he could predict my next stroke from his unfortunate comrade's experience, he moved his weapon to block. I merely flicked my wrist, adjusting my grip on the hilt, and brought the sword downward, so that the two strokes crossed.
Despite the two slashes, the officer had not quite decided to give up the ghost, quite yet, but I remedied that with a thrust through his gut. Cleaning the various fluids from my blade, I glanced up at the final soldier. Making probably the smartest decision of his life, he had fled his death, dropping his spear behind him. I was not quite don with him yet. I needed more information on Shana's whereabouts.
My churning legs easily outpaced his fearful stumbling, despite the fact I was in full armor. I caught him by the shoulder blade and rammed him into a partially burned wall. The charred wood crumbled beneath the impact, but I retained my grip, shifting it to his neck, a far better place for a hand when in intense diplomatic negotiations. I twisted his collar, cutting off his breath. The chainmail links in my hands cut into my skin, but I bore the discomfort. This would not take long. "Where is this hellhole they have Shana locked up in?"
The soldier made a choking noise, indicating that my hold was a little too tight. Since I still needed information from him, I loosened my grip. But not much. After attempting to gain enough breath to speak several times and not succeeding, he eventually gave up and lifted a trembling finger. Northwest. I let him go, his knees giving way beneath him. I knew he was still alive, but I left his crumpled body where it was. There was no point in wasting the effort to finish the pathetic wretch off. If he rejoined the army, I would probably kill him at some point later anyway. If he had any sense, however, he would desert, make it look like he had died, then get back to his miserable life far away from the army.
Of course, I was hardly in a position to call anyone miserable at the moment. Finally, I ducked out of the village. I would have stayed and helped out the survivors, but Shana needed my help. I paid a brief visit to Master Tasman, who was more than willing to give me a few pointers before I went along my way. No one appeared alarmed by my hastiness to leave. I had always been looking out for Shana.
But I hadn't this time. Twice my home had been destroyed due to my own inability do defend it. I took a silent vow that day. It would never happen again.
Author's Note: Like I said, not a happy fic. I liked the way it turned out though.
