--Sorry for the lateness, guys. As others can attest to, I'm very slow with writing fics. Very, very slow. :ducks tomatoes: Also, if you haven't noticed, I've rearranged how the fic is chaptered, so three-quarters of this chapter is pretty much what was originally the first chapter. Does that sense? I doubt it. Either way, I did it because I wanted this to feel as episodic as possible. Or at least, as episodic as you can make a Samurai Jack fanfic. :shrugs: Anyway, I hope you enjoy, and I do hope to finish this sooner or later. Hopefully sooner. :ducks another tomato: Hm. Definitely sooner.--

Disclaimer: Genndy T. and CN own Samurai Jack. I don't. Pity me.

Jack and the Guide
By: SilverKnight

Part I

The Greenbear Tavern was bustling with activity, the colorful creatures dotting the seats of the rustic bar contrasting starkly of the deep cherry of the oak paneling. Many of the patrons sat and laughed among themselves, paying no attention to the man that stood silently in the doorway, his onyx eyes cautiously roaming over the scene that played about before him.

The atmosphere of the establishment, much to his delight, was warm and inviting, the fireplace in the far corner bathing those nearby in a rich amber hue. The smell of fresh-cooked food and light ale wafted through the air like a thick mist, beckoning his senses to join in the merriment.

His face softened, his lips curving into a slight grin. He felt...comfortable. It was a much-welcomed respite.

His head bowed, he strolled towards the bar, his geta clacking dully against the wooden floorboards. He stopped short of the rich mahogany table, his wicker hat shielding his face from view, lest any potential bounty hunter recognized and tried to apprehend him.

A young woman wiping down a mug noticed him, and with a fanged smile, sat the glass down upon one of the back shelves and faced him. "Evenin', sir. What can I get for ya?" she drawled warmly.

He slowly opened his mouth to speak, stopping short when he felt a chill run up his spine. His eyes narrowed, flitting around the fire-lit pub suspiciously. One group played poker; another drank and reminisced happily over past events. He scrutinized every face in sight, but no one had seemed to notice his entrance. He frowned, shaking his head. Perhaps he was being paranoid. "I am looking for a man," he stated quietly.

The lady bartended pouted, her furred ears twitching beneath her large tuft of bright red hair. "Aw, that's too bad," she said, resting her chin in her oversized mitt. "Ya got a real cute accent; I figured you'd have to beat the women off with a stick."

Startled, his head snapped up to meet her gaze, blinking once. "I am sorry, I...don't understand what you mean."

Her rounded, orange face twisted in confusion, pushing herself upright. "Huh? ...What do you mean?"

"I am searching for a man that was rumored to reside in this town," he explained calmly, reaching into the sleeve of his gi and pulling out a folded, weathered note. "I have been told that he may be able to aid me in my quest."

The petite woman stared blankly, flushing several shades. "Oh," she muttered, sheepishly clearing her throat. "Sorry 'bout that, sir. Ah...do ya know his name?"

"I believe he is called 'Oz'," he replied matter-of-factly.

The bar immediately fell silent, the eyes of every inhabitant centered on him. Several seconds passed as he glanced around nervously. Finally, growing weary of the attention, he cleared his throat, returning his gaze to the lady that stood wide-eyed in front of him. Slowly, the patrons continued with their dinners, though they no doubt had an eye placed upon him. "Have I said something wrong?" he asked innocently.

"Ya wanna talk to—!" she shouted, stopping herself abruptly. Leaning forward, she glared at him with piercing green eyes, whispering conspiratorially, "Ya wanna talk to Oz? Are you nuts?"

He sighed, bowing his head once again. "I have heard much of his reputation, howev—"

"Ya obviously haven't heard enough if you're thinkin' of talkin' with him," she retorted, frowning. She paused, her ears pressing flat against her head. "Oh, wait a minute," she began slowly, "I know why you're here. You want him to guide ya through the caves of Mt. Kisai, right?"

Though somewhat surprised, he kept his face neutral. "Am I to assume that I am not the first to request his services?"

She snorted, shaking her head. "How do ya think he got his reputation in the first place?"

His eyebrows dipped down, frowning deeply. "Am I also to assume that no one has ever survived this venture?"

"Well, the artifact's still there; right?" she huffed, looking away. Disgruntled, she took out a white rag, diligently wiping down the bar-top. "I hear it gets really dangerous up there, if ya know what I mean. I'd watch my back, if I were you."

He straightened, squaring his shoulders. "I am quite capable of defending myself should anything decide to attack me."

She chuckled, nodding disbelievingly as she crouched behind the bar. "For your sake, I hope so."

Pursing his lips, he placed his hands on the cool, reflective mahogany, peering down at the small bartender who knelt on the floor. "Would you happen to know where Oz might be?"

"Not here," she stated, her voice mingling with the light clinking of bottles being re-organized. "And, before ya ask, no, I don't know when he'll come back. But, trust me, when he does, you'll know."

Sighing, he replaced the note in the folds of his sleeve, bowing forward slightly in thanks. "Thank you for your assist—"

The building shook with an awesome roar, the candles about the room blowing out from an unseen wind. Eyes wide, he wheeled around to face the door, readying his katana in front of him as the shuddering noise tapered off into an uncomfortable silence.

The small woman clawed her way to a semi-standing position, sprawling her upper body haphazardly across the bar. "Oh, no," she groaned dismally.

His eyes narrowed, and he cast a quarter-glance over his shoulder, still remaining in a defensive stance. "Are you all right?"

"Dandy," she muttered, holding her head.

His face hardening, he sprinted out the door into the warm summer evening. He charged down the main road, his light gi whipping behind him as he searched for the monster that threatened the tiny township.

However, as the seconds turned into minutes, and he traveled further into the outskirts, nagging doubts began to whisper in the back of his mind. Eventually, he came to a halt, his sword at his side, staring down the beaten dirt path that had brought him here. He blinked, appearing confused. "That was the roar of a monster," he spoke to himself, "but I have yet to see anything out of the ordinary." Absent-mindedly, he rubbed his chin, his lips curling in thought. "How is that possible? Was I mistaken?"

Cautiously, he pivoted on the heel of his sandal.

And came face to face with a grinning, wild-haired blond. "Boo."

Yelping in surprise, he leapt back, holding the glinting blade in front of him defensively. His coal black eyes thin slits, he watched as the man grinned, resting his hands on his hips. "Hidey-ho, neighbor! What brings you to my humble abode?"

Jack glared.

He furrowed his brows, cocking his head to the side. "What's the matter; cat got your tongue?"

Jack continued to glare.

The blond blinked, his face falling in surprise. "Oh. I'm sorry, did I startle you?" Still grinning, he held his hands up in the air, shrugging. "My fault. Wasn't intentional." He extended a hand. "Nice to meet ya. I'm Oz."

Jack blinked, his shoulders slumping forward minutely. So, this was Oz. Warily, his glare flickered repeatedly from his calloused hand to his deep blue eyes. Biting back a sigh, he eventually dropped the sword to his side, grasping the man's hand in a gesture of good faith. "They call me Jack."

Oz's face lit up in surprise, taking a step back. "Samurai Jack?"

Jack's eyes narrowed slightly, preparing himself for a potential assault on his life. "Yes," he answered gingerly.

A smile grew on his face, and he clapped his hands together joyously. "Wow, Samurai Jack! Dorothy's been wanting to meet you for months!"

The samurai blinked. "Dorothy?"

Ignoring him, Oz turned to the tree-line yards away, cupping his hands over mouth. "Hey, Dorothy! Come on out, I want you to meet someone!"

He blinked again, his features etched in confusion as he studied the forest intently.

Suddenly, a monstrous silhouette bounded over the canopy, barreling towards him threateningly with three pairs of glowing yellow eyes. Baring his teeth, Jack launched himself toward the three-headed creature, his katana at the ready. Despite its large size, the shadow swiftly dodged the attack, sweeping past him and snarled with one of its heads.

Jack's geta bit into the soft dirt as he skidded to a halt, growling as the winged creature circled around and landed behind the blond with a thud, the ground quaking as its six eyes focused upon him. His grip tightening around the sword, he charged forward, sweeping his free arm towards the unmoving Oz. "It is behind you!" he warned.

The lanky blond blinked, turning and craning his head up to look at the vicious three-headed monster looming dangerously over him. Jack waved his hand desperately at the man, who was still staring at the shadow that was easily forty times his size. "You must run!" he shouted, his eyes widening.

Oz gazed upward, his face crinkling in thought. "Did you just eat? You have a bit of a deer's leg stuck between your teeth."

Knowing he had no other choice, Jack raced past the frozen man. He bounded into the air with a fierce war cry, the deadly edge of his mystical blade nearing the scaled throat of the creature.

"Whoa, hold on!" Oz cried, his hand snapping out and grabbing Jack's ankle, the momentum unintentionally slamming him face-first into the ground. "I'm sure you're eager to meet Dorothy, but this is a little extreme, don't you think?"

Jack slowly dragged himself into a sitting position, tucking his legs underneath him as he spat out dirt. Frowning, he shook his head, meeting Oz's smiling face. "That is Dorothy?"

The blond nodded happily, helping him up to his feet. "Yup. Dorothy, my three-headed dragon." He stared up at the hunched silhouette, holding out his calloused hand in a greeting. "Dorothy, this is Samurai Jack."

Standing rigid, Jack's raven eyes watched the creature's every move, his hand tightly clenched around the leather handle of his katana in case it proved a threat. It lowered its three separate heads, each of the amber eyes staring at him curiously. Its yellow scales ruffled across its face in a wave of shimmering gold, as if blushing. For a moment, Jack's hard glare softened, the beginnings of a smile touching his lips.

Then, it roared; its hot breath forcing his tightly arranged topknot to fall out of place, his hair flailing about wildly in the false, pungent wind. Once finished, it backed away, purring contently. Oz beamed proudly, clapping the dazed samurai on the shoulder. "She says hi."

Jack blinked, his thick hair falling in clumps in front of his face. "...Hello," he muttered softly.

Oz, still grinning happily, idly stepped next to the behemoth dragon, leaning upon 'her' plump leg. "So, samurai, what'cha here for?"

He gathered his long black mane into his hands, tugging it into its rightful topknot, before turning to face the man with a bow. "I have come to request your help in locating the artifact inside Mt. Kisai."

A brow arched in interest, Oz chuckled lightly; wiping his fingernails against the fur-lined cloak draped across his shoulders. "Well, then, I'm your man."

"So, you will guide me?" he inquired, his expression expectant.

Oz scratched the side of his head in bewilderment, his hand all but disappearing in the jungle of wild blond tresses. "Wait...since when do you need a guide? I mean, you're Samurai Jack! You've done everything, right? You've climbed mountains, fought hordes of monsters, saved countless lives, and to top it all off, you fought Aku and lived! I mean, that's gotta be a first..."

Gradually, as he prattled on, Jack's face fell in bewilderment, and then tightened in slight annoyance. Finally, he cut the man off with a brusque nod, dirt crunching under the wooden heel of his sandal as he shifted his weight from one foot to another. "Yes, I have done all those things, but they were out of necessity."

Oz blinked, cocking his head to the side. "You're telling me that you got turned into a chicken out of necessity?"

He groaned inwardly. He had to mention the chicken incident. "No," he said at length, his eyes closed. "That was…something entirely different. And, I would rather not dwell upon it." His face determined; he closed the distance between them, gazing fiercely at the blond. "I understand that my...reputation may precede me, but despite my past trials, I have been told by many that to seek the artifact in Mt. Kisai without the proper guidance is suicide. I must find it, and use its power to return to the past." He drew a deep a breath, bowing his head in a show of humility. "Please, sir, I implore you, guide me through the catacombs. You are the only one who can."

The blond's sun-kissed face twisted in an exaggerated fashion as he tapped his finger against his lips thoughtfully. "Well, what do you think, Dorothy?" he questioned, awaiting an answer patiently as he gazed upward. One of the heads growled, and another purred, while the third was content with ogling the samurai who stood inches from her forepaw with a ravenous expression. Humming, Oz nodded sagely at the dragon's advice. "Yeah...yeah, you've got a point, Dorothy."

Jack suddenly found himself staring at a meaty hand shoved under his nose. "Alright, samurai, you got yourself a deal," Oz stated cheerfully.

Blinking, he hesitated for a split-second, before uncertainly clasping his hand with his own. "Thank you very much, sir," he uttered quietly, his eyes widening as Oz clamped down painfully, wrenching his arm up and down twice. Gratefully, he pulled his throbbing hand away, unconsciously massaging it with the other. "Please allow me a few moments to collect my belongings. I left them in the local tavern."

Oz brushed the statement away with a dismissive wave, clambering upon the back of his oversized pet. "Nah, don't worry about it. Just be ready tomorrow morning, 8 o'clock sharp."

He nodded in understanding, his thick brows knitting close together. "Where will I find you?"

Dorothy stood to full height, extending her impressive, shimmering wings, roaring with all three heads. Despite the noise created, Oz spoke as if the foothills were completely silent. "Don't worry; I'll find you."

Somehow, he did not feel comfortable with that.

--

The mountain range spanned as far as the eye could see, rocky crags and beautiful snowy peaks jutting up into the brilliant blue morning sky. In the far distance, a winged creature sliced through the air, dancing and weaving around the uneven rock face with a smooth grace developed from many years of experience.

The golden behemoth twisted unnaturally, lurching into a tight downward spiral. It snaked around the gauntlet of razor-sharp spires that stood threateningly in its path, doggedly closing the distance between it and the quarry of dust and rock that had collected at the base of the trench. Seconds passed like hours, the ground growing ever larger as the shimmering beast dove at a break-neck speed.

Closer...

And closer...

The creature unfurled its wings, gliding mere feet from the treacherous barbs of stone, before it soared off into the mist high above. The man riding behind the dragon's center neck whooped loudly, raising his arm in joy.

Jack didn't notice any of this. He was far too concerned with holding on for dear life.

Dorothy veered sharply to the left, narrowly missing a protruding boulder. His fingernails scraped against the unforgiving surface of the scales as his body was wrenched back harshly. Frantically, he pressed himself against the dragon's back, his knees and geta biting into whatever offered him the slightest grip.

Oz shifted, pivoting to face him. "Having fun?" he quipped.

The samurai remained silent, glowering.

Oz turned back around, smiling cheerfully. "Thought so."

After several minutes and many similar events, Dorothy's heavy paws touched land, kicking up dust as she settled upon the ground. Oz stood, patting her appreciatively on the base of her elongated neck, sliding to the outcrop of granite beneath them with no effort.

Jack watched the blond dismount, and blinked in sudden realization. He stared at where he currently sat, and before he could stop himself, he muttered, "...I'm still alive."

Happily, Oz started up the winding dirt path leading to Mt. Kisai, remarking, "Yeah, how about that?" He halted for a split second, tossing a fleeting gaze over his shoulder at the samurai. "Come on, it's gonna be a long climb before we reach the caves."

Jack nodded curtly in response, leaping to the ground, his katana in hand. He stared at the mountain that loomed ahead of them, thick clouds obscuring the jagged cliffs that marred its slate and obsidian surface. Frowning, he turned to the three-headed dragon that sat idly feet away from him, looking up at its three faces.

All three smiled.

Disquieted, his frown deepened, and he pivoted on his sandal, hurrying to catch up with the strange man that he had appointed to be his guide.

The route across the mountainside was treacherous. The trail they traveled on dwindled into a small lip of rock they shimmied across, hundreds of feet from the base. Jack's wooden geta landed awkwardly on a loose rock, the thin outcrop of sand and stone crumbling from the weight. Eyes wide, his hands clambered for a handhold as he lurched forward unsteadily.

Snake-fast, a hand gripped the back of his gi, holding him partially suspended over a ravine shrouded by mist. Jack's head crooked to the side, gaping at Oz; whom stood balanced on the tip of his right foot, grinning wryly. His lips ticked down minutely, recalling the words of caution that the local barkeep had given him, and wondered if they were true.

When the edge disappeared into the stone, they began climbing. Jack made his way up the uneven ridges with a cool expertise, the choppy wind whipping his gi about his legs. He hauled himself over a large boulder with a grunt of effort, glancing beside him as Oz flipped over the same boulder with a flourish and a smile. The unusual man paused a moment to turn and nod to him, before leaping to another handhold several feet above. He stared at the exuberant figure for a few seconds, a mixture of curiosity and confusion playing across his features. He sighed despairingly, continuing above.

The sun shone high above, scorching the mountainside as the pair finally neared the cave entrance. As per their unspoken agreement, Oz scaled the stretch first, disappearing onto the narrow cliff. He followed shortly behind, his fingers gratefully clutching the bluff. He lifted himself up, poking his head over the overhang.

Oz rushed from the darkness, a split-second away from stamping a large boot down on his head.

He immediately ducked, sending him skidding down a small patch of the steep ridge. Wildly, he grabbed hold of a nearby crag, glaring aloft as he jerked to a halt. "What are you—"

"COWABUNGA!"

Jack watched as his guide dove from the ledge, freefalling into the abyss with a cackle of delight, broad sword in hand. His face fell in shock, unsure of what exactly he just witnessed. Jaw slack; he gawked at the rolling waves of mist, several long seconds ticking by.

Nestled deep within the thick clouds, a small shadow careened skyward, screeching harshly. He squinted his eyes, his strong, calloused hands tightening around the dusty shale. Oz emerged from the chasm upon the back of a large, shrieking bat-creature, speeding into the air with an enthusiastic, "Yee haw!"

The samurai blinked. That man now ranked as one of the most bizarre people he had ever met. Including those in the strange Wonder-land he'd fallen into.

A dissonant chorus of screams pierced his ears, and he grimaced, his eyes locking on the source. The mist grew black with silhouettes. He pushed closer to the rock face, his shoulders hunched as a wall of giant bats burst from the fog, swarming past him angrily.

Far above, he observed Oz draw back his sword, running through the winged creature he was currently hanging on. Non-chalantly, he proceeded to hop upon the furred back of nearest bat, lobbing its head off cleanly. He repeated the process over a dozen times, using the horde of beasts as a crude ladder to the cave opening.

Jack gaped at the man, his bronzed face contorting further in stark disbelief. The colony of bats plunged through the mid-afternoon sky; a massive, irate spiral of black wings and yellowed fangs.

And, much to his dismay, the irate spiral was intent almost exclusively on him.

To Be Continued