As the red sun dips into the hilly horizons on a beautiful Grundo day, the day ends for many others, and for Quellor, it begins anew. He and his four idiotic underlings depart from M.A.V.O Headquarters westward toward The Hard To Find City. Quellor sits on a throne atop a wooden coach pulled by Sludge, Drudge, Trudge, and Grudge. They sweat like pigs and smell positively putrid, but Quellor could care less. All he's interested in is following that red star. Should his inferiors fall to dehydration or exhaustion, he would not see it as a problem for them, so much as an inconvenience for himself. They wheeze and pant as the energy leaves their bodies, and as their poor, overworked knees begin to tremble. Grudge falls to his knee, and rather than remove himself from the throne to lighten the load, Quellor merely shakes his fist and insults the pathetic creature.

Quellor: "Be careful, you imbecile, or you'll tip me over!"

Grudge: "Sorry, your nastiness. I know I'm not as strong as your devoted lackeys, but I'm giving it my all."

Quellor: "Your all isn't good enough! I will accept no less than two hundred percent from any of you!"

As Quellor stands on his throne, hovering over the dry and dead land, he causes the quartet carrying his throne to lose balance. He tips over, onto the ground, and the henchmen all collapse into the barren dirt, bursting with sweat permeating their skin. Trudge's yellow fur is soaked and Grudge fares no better.

Quellor: "You blithering morons! How dare you drop my throne upon the dirt?!"

Trudge: "Can't... breath... so... tired."

Quellor growls under his breath.

Quellor: "Very well! Five minutes! Not a second longer, and you four better be ready to haul my throne to that star with double speed! We're losing moonlight!"

Quellor thrusts his pointed arm out toward the red star in a violent, jerking motion. They merely look and nod. The four monsters groan as Quellor points out that their five minutes have expired (oddly enough, right on the dot, as if Quellor is some sort of psychic clock of a man, or as if he was perfectly counting each of the three-hundred seconds). They climb back up and rather than continue to burden them with the throne, Quellor finally admits that it would be significantly quicker if they all just walked on their own. He just wants to get to the red star and get it over with.

As they near the destination, Quellor points out that the star is directly above their heads, and commands them to start digging. The monsters pull a long spade out of their bag (a pink bow still wrapped around the tool that was originally a birthday gift) and immediately begin to quarrel among themselves as they fight over it. Quellor's temple throbs with aggravation beneath his cowl.

Trudge: "Hey! I wanted to use the shovel! It's my birthday gift!"

Sludge: "No way! I'm the one that gave it to you in the first place! I should get to dig!"

Trudge: "You said I could use the shovel!"

Drudge: "Come on, guys, the boss needs us."

As they struggle for the shovel, they grab back and forth, banging each other over the head. In the midst of their tug of war, the shovel becomes dislodged from their grip and flies through the air, smacking Grudge in the head. Quellor, who's distracted by the star immediately above, deciding whether or not they are truly beneath where they need to be, turns around and is furious at the four clowns before him.

Quellor: "I thought I told you idiots to bring a shovel!"

Sludge: "We did, boss. See? It's right here."

Quellor shakes his fists into the sky.

Quellor: "I told EACH of you to bring a shovel! Four shovels!"

Trudge: "We'll get on our hands and knees and start digging."

Quellor: "If you four don't start digging this instant, there will be FIVE bodies buried in this patch of wasteland!"

They all panic and start digging at rapid speed through the tough and cracked dirt. It takes them hours. Through blistered hands and mounds of sweat, they persevere until Drudge stubs his hand on something.

Drudge: "Oww! I think I hit something."

Quellor: "Well it certainly took you long enough. Come on, what is it?"

The quartet digs in place, revealing the top of a tower. Somehow, defying all logic, an entire castle has managed to sink deep within the ground itself, leaving no trace of there ever having been one. After a few more minutes of digging, they believe they've found an entrance.

Sludge: "Supreme Oppressor Quellor, my overlord and perfect master, it appears as though we've found a window."

He runs up to the window, pushing two of the idiots aside as he looks inside the abandoned castle tower room with pride.

Quellor: "A window? Excellent. We've discovered an entrance."

The five climb through the window entrance into a very dark and spiritually active room within Castle Astranalogous, what was once a quite lovely bedroom is now home to nothing but bugs and vermin. They tread on the stone floor, which slopes at an angle and they can't see a thing.

Quellor: "Which of you buffoons brought the torches?"

Drudge: "Here, boss, I have a torch in my bag here."

He pulls out a torch and presents it to Quellor, who rudely snatches it out of his hand with a deft swipe. He then hands Quellor a match with a half-cringing smile in an attempt to calm his nerves and Quellor strikes the match along his bald head. They advance down the pitch-black corridors on a slant, past stone walls covered in a thick and viscous slime of indeterminable nature. The ceiling and walls creak with slight adjustment and they can swear they're being watched.

Quellor perseveres with a stone-cold look of ambition as Sludge, Drudge, Trudge, and Grudge shiver in both fear and coldness from the chill that seems to fill the air the closer they get to their goal. Wide-eyed, the henchmen question the absurd markings on the walls done in red chalk and faded though visible, cult-like drawings that detail the horrors of the previous life of Astranalogous. A tall and imposing demonic figure towers over beings that resemble ancient Illiops. The tiny creatures brandish what appear to be the Crystals to fend off the warlock, as others in cloaks retaliate with magic.

They pass by a room, filled with all sorts of dubious chemical flasks and cauldrons. Instruments of terror and witchcraft line shelves, and dusty, cobweb-covered books likely too old and damaged to be read sit undisturbed beneath. The henchmen and their boss reach a dead end, and Quellor looks confused. The quivering henchman beneath him looks up at him with uncertainty.

Quellor: "I cannot hear his voice, and yet I know my ancestor must be close. I can feel his presence. Astranalogous, great warlock of infinite power, send me a message, anything. Let me hear your voice."

They wait... nothing. Grudge enters the room with all the vials and chemicals. A faint whisper clips his ear. He can hear the voice, but it is so faint. Grudge stands there, motionless, as the others enter the room. Trudge approaches his cousin and places his hand on his shoulder.

Trudge: "Hey cousin, did you find something."

Grudge turns around. His eyes radiate a glowing pink color and the other henchmen just look at him. His fearful expression has left his face and it is now stern and emotionless.

Grudge (Astranalogous): "My son."

Quellor darts his head immediately towards Grudge and approaches him.

Grudge (Astranalogous): "I must borrow this body for a moment, as it appears as though you're facing difficulties finding my resting place. Please, follow me to my chamber, and witness the true form of evil."

Grudge walks across the room of bookshelves, past many books, sliding his eyes across them until he reaches a particular red and black book sitting awkwardly compared to the others. He pulls the book out and a stone door in the corner of the room slides open, revealing a spiral staircase that descends towards an eerie purple and blue light, the same as before. Grudge walks with an unnatural grace down the stairs and Quellor follows curiously close behind, not entirely certain if Grudge was even still there. The trio behind him continues to follow close behind, shaking like leaves as the room gets even colder and damper than before. The slime from before is now thickly lining the walls and ceilings as they enter the burial chamber. Inside is seemingly countless gold, a fortune, more money than Tweeg or Quellor would ever need in their entire lives. Grudge turns around, and with great command behind his voice, warns the others in a threatening manner.

Grudge (Astranalogous): "As we enter my chamber, do NOT touch my gold! You will touch nothing! In the center of the room, you will find my body, splayed in disgrace upon my death bed. I must be freed of this castle, vindicated from my grave. Approach me, my son, so that I may embrace you with my own hands. Hear the words from my own mouth. Know... the truth."

As soon as the last syllable is uttered, Grudge falls to the ground. Trudge, Sludge, and Drudge run to him immediately.

Trudge: "Cousin! Are you okay? Did the warlock hurt you?"

Grudge: "Huh? What happened? What are you guys talking about? I just walked into that room and suddenly I went out cold and now I'm here. It's like I just took a short nap or something."

Trudge hugs his cousin.

Trudge: "I'm just glad you're okay."

Quellor walks past them, an invisible sneer planted on the face shrouded in darkness.

Quellor: "Your empathy sickens me."

As Quellor enters the room, he descends down a long, straight walkway towards a corpse in the center of the room, the body of Astranalogous. The being is tastelessly stretched across his throne, a skeletal body with long, crooked horns, draped in swathes of black cloth, eaten away by insects, desiccated by vermin. The body is laid in a melodramatic manner, his hand placed over his heart, with a goblet on the floor where his other hand drapes. His legs are bare and stretch outward along the ground in rigor mortis, flesh had long since decomposed. Several very long hairs hang along the back of the crooked and broken throne. This being, Quellor's ancestor, died in a most disgraceful manner. As Quellor approaches the body, his minions stare on with wide and dilated eyes at their master.

Quellor leans into the corpse, staring right into the eye sockets of Astranalogous. He moves in closer, into touching range as the hand placed on his heart suddenly moves. Quellor is quite taken aback for a second as the corpse reaches up to touch his face. Quellor stares, wide-eyed at the warlock as the sentence leaves his mouth.

Astranalogous: "My son."

As the hand makes contact with his face, a blinding white light flashes before his eyes. His ears are filled with the agonizing wails of thousands upon thousands of souls screaming from the depths of hell. Then suddenly, a silence as Quellor hovers over a dulled earth, a primitive landscape. Quellor finds his consciousness hovering over the land of Rillonia, as Illiops adorn in tunics cross paths in stony streets. Fruit vendors shout from the market stands, out into the streets in competition, and citizens gossip and laugh among themselves. All is peaceful in the land of Rillonia, at least on the surface level... for the time being.

Five hundred years ago, a silver-haired Illiop, Emmet Ruxpin, the captain of the guard overseeing Rillionia, kept things safe from the outside world. He stands before a stone tower, an outpost meant for overlooking the town. Emmet sports a stern demeanor, but beneath his stony facade is the purest of all hearts. Emmet sits at a wooden table, removing his silver helmet and placing it down as he rubs the sweat from his brow. It's a hot day, and he can't wait for nightfall so that the putrid sun would no longer continue to bake him.

Emmet's job can often seem pointless to others, but not to him. He knows very well that the safety of Rillonia is not something that can ever be taken for granted, and that only the smug would assume immediate safety solely because of the surrounding waters and dense forestation. As much as his job often bores him, Emmet wouldn't trade it for the world. He looks out at the people of Rillonia and he loves and cherishes every last one of them, so if it means keeping them safe, he will bear the heavy burden of his armor.

Emmet takes a large gulp of the water in his mug. He dumps nearly the whole thing into his gullet to prevent dehydration and sulks slightly as some of it messily runs down the front of the fur on his chin and down into his chest. Another Illiop sits down beside him, a chubby-faced fellow with long, mulleted fur pulled back into a ponytail slaps him on the shoulder, and catches him off-guard. His lieutenant, a boisterous, but equally kind man by the name of Keiras, sits beside him with a smirk firmly planted on his face.

Keiras: "Just another day in Rillonia, ey, Em?"

Emmet looks down a the mess he made and laughs.

Emmet: "Yup, but I wouldn't change it for the world."

Keiras: "Still, it'd be nice to get a vacation, maybe go out and see Grundo, the surrounding land, maybe go on a fishing expedition. Hey! How'd you like that? We could go out fishing sometime!"

Emmet: "I'd love to be able to get out onto the open seas, but my place is here in Rillionia, protecting the people from danger."

Keiras rolls his eyes, throws his head back, and leans back in his chair in an exaggerated manner with a sigh, sitting back up and shaking his head in disappointment as Emmet stares at him as if he'd grown a third eye.

Keiras: "Em, you ever heard the saying 'all work and no play makes Jack a dull boy?'"

Emmet: "Why, yes, I am familiar with the term."

Keiras points at him, poking him right in the chest.

Keiras: "You... are the dull boy, Emmet Ruxpin. I can tell just from the bags under your eyes that you're overworked and you need to get away from this place before you go stir-crazy."

Emmet looks down at the table, chuckling to himself.

Emmet: "I am tired, and not in the physically exhausting way, but in the purgatorial boredom kinda way."

Keiras: "Look, I love Rillonia as much as the next Illiop, but this place is dull as dirt. Nothing ever happens here and we're basically paid to stand there and look pretty."

He sighs.

Emmet: "You're right. I should. I should get outta Rillonia, even if it's for just a day."

Keiras: "That's the spirit!"

He smiles widely, his round face pulled into a dimpled smile as he slaps Emmet on the back. He then gets up from his seat as Emmet gives him a slightly annoyed look. Emmet and Keiras make plans the next day to go fishing. From the docks to the east, they rent a boat and sail out along the coast. It's a magnificent sunny day and there isn't a cloud in sight as Keiras looks to the sun, shading his eyes with his brown, fur-covered arm.

Keiras: "I tell ya, Em, we couldn't have picked a more perfect day to do this. Just feel that sea breeze; smell that salty sea air. It's breathtaking."

Emmet chuckles at Keiras' obvious gloating that he was right and shakes his head slightly at his friend's immodesty with a smile. Keiras looks at Emmet for a while with a semi-smug grin on his face before asking him what he believes is a relatively impersonal question.

Keiras: "So, when you thinking of asking Melody out?"

Emmet reacts to that question as if it's completely out of left field when Keiras knows very well that he's playing dumb.

Emmet: "I'm sorry. What?"

Keiras: "Oh, come on, don't act like you weren't eyeballing her and giving her all those cute smiles for the last couple of weeks every time she strolled by."

Keiras makes a walking gesture with his two fingers as Emmet laughs nervously at his correct assertion. Bashful, he makes his confession. Emmet shrugs and avoids eye contact, the face beneath his fur growing redder by the minute as he talks about her. He stumbles around trying to find the right words.

Emmet: "I mean yeah, well, I just been so busy and all, and I haven't had time to do anything, what with having to stand guard all the time, and by the time my shift is over..."

Keiras shakes his head and tsk tsk tsks at Emmet and he pauses mid-sentence to try to defend himself.

Emmet: "What?"

Keiras walks over to the ledge of the boat, leaning over the railing with his fishing rod between his arms.

Keiras: "You... are hopelessly smitten. There's no saving you now."

Emmet shoves him and he just laughs as they jostle each other. Out of the corner of his eye, Keiras spots some bubbles. He stands there at the ready with his rod. Keiras casts the pole out and waits eagerly. Neither of them makes a peep as they anticipate the pull, with Keiras holding the rod with such a grip that if he held it any tighter the wood would snap. Keiras is suddenly jerked forward. Emmet grabs hold of Keiras to keep him from being pulled overboard, using their feet on the rail as leverage as they pull with all their might.

Emmet: "Holy mackerel! This thing is huge!"

Keiras: "That ain't no mackerel, Em; I think I bagged a whale!"

The massive fish pulls and jerks back and forth as the two Illiops try to wrangle and reel it in. As Keiras opens his eyes from his strained squint he can see the glare of the sun off of massive blue-green scales as the fish reaches the surface, struggling for dear life.

Keiras: "Alright pal, on the count of three, give it one big pull, as hard as you can!"

Emmet nods, gritting his teeth.

Emmet: "Right!"

Keiras: "One!"

Emmet: "Two!"

Both: "Three!"

With a final great pull, the massive fish is drawn from the water, slapping onto the deck of the ship and flapping for dear life. Keiras laughs, catching his breath as Emmet rubs the sweat from his brow with his hands on his knees.

Keiras: "Look... at this... BEAUTY! I bet we could feed all of Rillonia with this beast! What do you think, Em?"

Emmet: "It's a beautiful fish, Keiras. Great job."

Keiras: "Couldn't have done it without you."

They smile at each other as Keiras holds his massive prized fish in the air. Suddenly, the sky turns red over the shores of Rillonia, and the Illiops behold as streaks of red light shoot across the sky.

Emmet: "Meteor shower? At this time of day? I haven't heard any of the town elders or star watchers speak of any of this."

Keiras shakes his head.

Keiras: "Me neither."

Beyond the shoreline, Melody Lilach, the love of Emmet's life is eagerly awaiting the return of her sister Cocoa. Cocoa has spent the last 3 years living in Grundo among the Grunge hippie commune. She had since longed for freedom from the safety net of Rillonia for years and the Grunges were the most hospitable and welcoming of hosts. At that point in time, living in Grundo was dangerous, as it had been occupied by a strange magic-worshiping cult of wizards and there was no telling how or when they could attack, should the whim of one, Ewig, their master, require of them to do so.

Melody's long, flowing brown hair rides the wind as she peers out into the distance with her hand shading her eyes. She smiles, and can barely contain her excitement as she bobs up and down like an excited puppy hearing the first tumbles of the lock as the master returns. On the horizon, a massive ship appears, with Cocoa in front, anticipating her sister's appearance. She can spot Melody almost immediately in her cherry-blossom-colored dress sticking out like a sore thumb against the golden sands of the shoreline with the ocean blue waves tickling her feet.

As soon as she notices her sister, she runs up to the docks to greet her long before the ship has docked. Cocoa waves at Melody, shouting a long "hey!" as the ship pulls in to dock. As soon as the ramp touches down, Cocoa's anticipation reaches maximum impatience as no sooner does the ramp get slapped down on the dock and Cocoa is running down to meet her sister.

Cocoa looks a little different than before, certainly more relaxed than the simple, quiet librarian she once was. She looks freer, happier, and more in touch with her natural side. Cocoa is of a rare type of Illiop, one with very rare genetics that has caused her to have all sand-colored fur as opposed to only around the muzzle. There isn't a single brown hair on her entire body, and even her long sand-colored hair, despite reaching all shades within the hours spent in the sun, doesn't bare a single brown strand.

As Melody was given her name for her beautiful voice that would allow her to pursue a career as a music teacher, so was Cocoa given her name for the odd coffee coloring to her fur. Cocoa's sky-blue summer dress billows in the wind as she runs to embrace her sister. She rushes right towards Melody, nearly knocking her over as she leaps into a hug. The two laugh as tears of joy fill their eyes.

Melody: "It's so good to see you! I can't even believe how long it's been!"

Cocoa: "I know! I bet the kids missed me so much. Oh, how have their studies gone? Are they still improving on their tone?"

Melody chuckles. They begin to walk hand-in-hand down the dock and back into town through the thick forestation.

Melody: "You wouldn't believe how good they all sound now, like a perfect choir of little cherubs, all harmonizing and in sync."

Cocoa: "How about little Max? He was so shy about joining the choir in the first place."

Melody: "Max isn't so little anymore. He's had quite the growth spurt since you've been gone. He's as tall as you now! And his voice had changed as well, from the squeaky little tenor boy to bordering on baritone. Puberty has been quite kind to him in the looks department. He's thinned out quite a bit from the puffy little boy we're used to."

Cocoa is astonished at this revelation and just looks at her sister with a surprised look as they walk. She's so excited to see the kids and share with them all the Grunge books she's brought home.

Cocoa: "I can't wait to read some of these to the children. The Grunges have such wild and out-there imaginations when it comes to literature. We could really use some influence from them in regards to creativity and imagination."

Melody: "Oh, they'd love it! The kids don't get to go out that far, at least not out of Rillonia, so I bet they're so curious about all the stories you have to share with them."

As they continue walking, Cocoa gets a devious little smile on her face. She leans into Melody, asking her about a certain someone.

Cocoa: "So, has that cutie pie, Emmet, finally broken his silence and asked you out?"

Melody sighs.

Melody: "No, not yet. He's still at that phase where he thinks I'm totally oblivious to his stares. He couldn't possibly be even more obvious. I think even Keiras has started to notice."

Cocoa chuckles.

Cocoa: "Keiras can be a little too pig-headed for his own good, you know. Sweet man, but I swear he hit a few branches head-first on the way down. But if even he hasn't noticed, Emmet must have it really bad for you."

Melody shoves her playfully and Cocoa laughs as Melody can barely contain her own laughter.

Melody: "You're so bad! The Grunges must have really rubbed off on you."

Cocoa: "So if he's so much of a chicken, why don't you ask him out?"

Melody turns to her sister at an abrupt halt.

Melody: "Do you have any idea how embarrassing that would be for the both of us?"

Cocoa spitefully places her mouth on her finger and the other hand on her hip in judgment.

Cocoa: "Are you copping out on me, and admitting that you're too much of a coward to ask him out either?"

Melody blushes, her face redder than a newborn bounder.

Melody: "No! Of course not!"

Cocoa shrugs.

Cocoa: "Whatever you say, sis."

Overhead, they spot the meteor shower in the distance.

Cocoa: "Whoa! Is that a shooting star? Quick! Make a wish!"

Melody beholds the phenomenon with a tad more maturity, and significantly more curiosity. She shakes her head.

Melody: "I don't think that's a shooting star."

In the forest, far away from the pier or the shores, deep within the tall and overreaching trees of Rillonia, is another duo, a group of friends. One is a monk from the Order of High Illiops, a sect of friars, philosophers, and scholars that study society, psychology, and the world beyond that of Rillonia. The other is a rough-and-tumble young man with a mohawk and a scar. Childhood friends that went very separate ways in life engage in a bit of one-on-one paintball tag in the forest.

Tauben Steelheart is a practicing monk in the Order of High Illiops, a fresh new recruit with very little discipline and focus. He's an intelligent lad, but these distractions have kept him from his studies. He yearns to find the best of both worlds, that strike between the perfect zen and the thrill of adventure. Joshua "Spear" Jordan, his opponent, has always been of the adventurous kind, and because of it, he's easily the most street-wise of the two.

Joshua has been outside of Rillionia many times, despite warnings of both his worried sick mother and the townsfolk alike, and unlike Cocoa, Joshua didn't stick to but a mere Grunge commune, but all of Grundo. Strange folks patrol Grundo nowadays, hooded figures capable of mysticism and mind trickery. Nobody truly knows where they come from, but they are said to be dangerous, so Illiops mind their best to avoid them.

Hiding among the trees, Tauben tries to focus. He listens with his keen senses for the rustling of leaves, the snapping of twigs, and the sound of footsteps around him. Spear is silent, like a ninja, but Tauben has the keenest hearing in all of Rillonia. He's trained his ears through meditation to filter out noise, distinguish individual movements and become one with the world.

Tauben: "Focus... I must focus."

Joshua is quick, swinging and parkouring between trees with weightless precision. Tauben has his paintball blow dart ready at his side. Up above, Tauben can hear the "thoomp" of a paintball leaving its chamber, and dives into a roll transitioning into the firing of a red paintball that severs a branch Tauben has already left. He is in silence once again as Joshua continues his pursuit high above the trees. He knows that Tauben is a dead aim with a dart and wouldn't dare get in close, but among the trees, where branches and twigs provide him with cover, he feels safe.

Tauben: "Coward!"

He taunts his friend, and Joshua just laughs, echoing through the trees.

Joshua: "I'm not afraid of you. I'm just smarter than you."

Tauben: "Don't let your head get too big or the trees will cease to support you, 'friend'."

Joshua giggles again. Tauben knows that Joshua's greatest weakness is his inability to keep his mouth shut, so he continues to provoke, leading the way, hoping he'll slip up and reveal himself.

Joshua: "You look like a tiny little white dove from all the way up here."

Tauben: "You're taking this awfully seriously for just a game."

Tauben walks with caution, continuing to discern the voice through the wind to isolate the location.

Joshua: "Are you not having fun?"

Tauben: "Are you?"

Joshua is silent, almost as if he's onto the whole game Tauben has started, getting him to speak to slowly narrow down his location. But then...

Joshua: "Oh, we're gonna have lots of fun, I promise you."

Tauben: "Is that some kind of a threat?"

Joshua pops up from right behind.

Joshua: "No. It's a promise!"

Tauben makes a leaping dive as several paintballs leave pockmarks on the trees before him. Joshua chases Tauben through the woods, giggling as Tauben darts between trees and around corners. For a second, Joshua believes he has him. It appears as though Tauben is short of breath. He has his back turned and that's when Joshua lights him up with paintballs. Joshua laughs as he approaches Tauben, placing his hand on his shoulder and turning him around to reveal that his monk robes were merely a ruse. Tauben pulls up behind the foolish Joshua and plants a large red paintball directly into his back.

Joshua: "Ouch!"

Joshua turns around to find Tauben in nothing but his undergarments laughing uncontrollably at the big splatter on his friend's hand-made ninja costume.

Joshua: "Awww, man, my outfit is ruined."

Tauben: "Don't take it so hard. I doubt The Order will take kindly to my robes going from a nice clean off-white to splotches of blazing red."

Joshua takes his torso section off, revealing a sleeveless underneath.

Joshua: "At least the bleach will take yours out."

Tauben looks wide-eyed at him.

Tauben: "No. Absolutely not. If I put bleach in with those red splotches, it would dye the whole Order's robes pink! I'd be excommunicated, and then I'd have to walk a long route of shame followed by a bunch of men all dressed in pink!"

Joshua chuckles, placing his hands on his hips as he mocks his good friend.

Joshua: "Well, pink is your color anyway."

Tauben laughs.

Tauben: "Shut up."

All of a sudden, the sky grows red around them, the meteor shower passes by.

Joshua: "Wow! Look at them go!"

Tauben: "It looks like it's headed right for the monastery! I must warn my brothers!"

Joshua just stands there as he runs off. He shrugs.

Joshua: "Hey! What about our game?!"

Tauben bolts in the direction of the meteor shower. He makes it back to town just in time to see seven glowing objects plow straight through the roof of the monastery. He gasps as he runs inside, past people screaming and running in both directions and past a hooded figure that he's never seen before. He glances at his rather unfriendly and emotionless eyes as he passes is nearly breathless as he makes it before The Order. A group of monks, all standing in a crowd around the seven objects gaze in astonishment at the rocks before them.

As Tauben enters, he pushes through the crowd, desperate to see if anyone got hurt. Before him is a sight unlike anything he'd ever seen. Seven large glowing rocks, emanating every color imaginable, glow and hum a pulsing aura. One of the Illiops goes to touch the rock and is immediately burned by it. He shakes his paw, blowing on the pads that have already begun to form blisters. Another gentleman leads him away to care for the injury. Tauben stares directly into one of the rocks. He feels a connection to it, almost as if it can speak to him. The head of the monks snaps his fingers before his face to get his attention.

Tauben: "Huh? What?"

Father: "Young Tauben, is something wrong, my son?"

Tauben: "No, my father and master."

Father: "They are incredible, a gift from the heavens perhaps?"

Tauben: "Do you really think they are a gift, sent to us by some higher power?"

Father: "Nothing happens without a reason."

Tauben: "What do you plan to do with these rocks?"

Father: "I don't know yet. The Order and I will have to meet to discuss these miracles from the sky. Why don't you head back to your dorm? We will deal with this."

He places his hand on Tauben's shoulder and Tauben heads back to his dorm in the upper chambers. The monastery is a large and modest building of stone. Much of the interior decorating is white, grey, or a pale color. Along the walls are hung many framed pictures of fellow brothers and figures within. As he ascends the stairs toward his living quarters, he spots a group of monks gossiping. As he approaches his door, he freezes with his hands on the knob, listening in.

Monk 1: "Did you spot a strange individual walking among us?"

Monk 2: "Yes. I believe I saw him attend prayer this morning but I didn't recognize him either. He gave off a powerful, evil presence."

Monk 3: "Now, my brothers, it is not kind to judge others solely on their appearance. It's very well possible that the suspicious individual was merely a guest. This is not a closed monastery, and prayer is open to any that wish to purge their souls of guilt so they may be at peace with themselves."

Monk 2: "You are right. I should apologize for my presumptuous tone."

Monk 1: "As should I."

Tauben eyes the gentlemen with a glaze of curiosity before shaking his head and opening the door. Inside is a small and modest room of all wood paneling, with nothing but a bed, a bookshelf, and a nightstand with a lantern for light. Tauben lays on his bed and stares at the ceiling before remembering that he's still covered in red paint. He curses himself under his breath before changing into fresh garments.

An hour later, after everything had settled down, The Order conducts a meeting in a large room with a round, wooden table. Many elderly Illiops sit with stern, almost constipated looks as the head of The Order leans in on his folded hands in contemplation. After an absurdly long and awkward silence filled with nothing but the clearing of throats and small coughs, he finally speaks.

Father: "My brothers, we have been truly blessed by these mysterious rocks. After peering through various geological books, I've come to the conclusion that nothing of the sort exists on this planet. These rocks are wholly alien to us."

One brother goes to open his mouth and point out that the head of The Order is stating the obvious, but he gives his brother a stern look with a raised brow as if daring him to. He merely acquiesces.

Brother 1: "Perhaps, father, we should have these rocks examined by geological experts. The Perloons off the island to the north contain vast knowledge that goes beyond our simple texts. I suggest perhaps sending a letter to the Illipers of the north, requesting an audience."

Father: "That might be wise."

Brother 2: "We should set station someone trustworthy to look after the rocks, for who knows just what kind of thieves or charlatans are out there that would want the rocks for themselves?"

Father: "They are not our rocks, my brother."

Brother 2: "But still, if they are powerful, then better in our own hands than in the hands of someone of foul nature and principle."

Father nods his head.

Father: "Now that I can agree on."

Brother 3: "Whom shall we get to guard the rocks, my father?"

Father: "I think that the young Ruxpin lad would make a suitable watch for the rocks. He has a good head on his shoulders and a strong moral compass."

Brother 1: "Shall Keiras accompany him?"

Father: "I see no reason not to, if anything but so that they have each other's company. Also, it's twice the manpower should a thief possibly come into our midst."

Unbeknownst to The Order, the same hooded figure as before is outside of the door, eavesdropping on the plans. Upon dismissal at the request of the head, the hooded figure departs in silence. Men push through the door, murmuring among themselves about the rocks, and go about their business. For the time being, several monks are huddled around the glowing meteorites as they continue to glow and hum with radiance. The one monk steps away for fear of the rocks contaminating them with some foreign space debris.