A/N: It's me again! Here to entertain you with a story of my own design. So sit back and relax, chaps and chapesses, wot? (See what reading Redwall books all day can do to you? I sound like a bally hare! Oops, there I go again!)

OK, I'm going to attempt to keep my insanity to myself, but I can't promise anything. ; ) Anyhow, I have a feeling this chapter's gonna take awhile to write, and I'm sorry. I'll try not to take TOO long. I know generally what I want to happen, but I don't know how to get it down on paper. I'll probably have to delete it like three times. Ah, well.

Review answers at the end of the bally chapter today, chaps, wot! (Sorry, couldn't resist.)

Now, onward to chapter whatever-number-I'm-on! Have fun!

A sword point stabbed the ground, barely missing Rosco's head as he rolled out of the way. He grabbed his rapier up from the dirt where it had fallen moments before, and rose to a crouch, facing his attacker.

The combatants circled one another, eyes locked, waiting for an opening to strike. Rosco saw his opponent's eyes flicker down to his midriff; he paired the stab just in time, countering with a downward swipe to the shoulder blade. His attacker sidestepped, and the blade tore uselessly through the air.

Steel grated against steel as they battled, with neither one having a clear advantage. Both fought with the ease of one long accustomed to using a blade. They stabbed and parried, skipped and dodged, never losing a step in the dance with death. Sunlight glinted off their swords as they clashed against one another, yearning to bite flesh.

Then, with one powerful twist of his rapier, Rosco sent the opponent's sword flying. Before the man could do anything, Rosco's sword tip pressed against his neck.

"You lose, Wolfgang," he said, thrusting the rapier into its scabbard. Wolfgang did the same, saying, "Ya might be a better swordsman than me, mate, but there's two things I'll always be better at."

"Oh really? And what's that, you old seadog?" Rosco asked in mock anger. Wolfgang grinned.

"Sailin' an' singin, o'course!"

Rosco looked at him skeptically. "You can't sing!"

The sailor whipped out his sword, and began parading around the room as he sang an old sea chantey.

"I'm the babe of a bloodipper

Born in the teeth of a gale

I'm the one who wields the sword

An' makes the pirates wail

I'm as sharp as the reef rock

I carry death in me paw

Go where I like, slay who I will

That's the corsair's law!

Blood's me favorite color

I'm swifter'n lighitnin, aye

Stand out me way, stand out I say

Step aside now, or die!

'Cause I'm the spawn o' nightstorm

Death sails in me wake

I'll sheath my blade in innards

And what I want, I take.

Come one, come all, I'm waitin'

I'll flay yer carcass bare

So everyplace I go they'll say

'Ahoy, you bold corsair!'"*

Wolfgang bowed, sheathing his sword. Rosco grinned.

"I stand corrected, you are a good singer. Now if only you could fight as well as you sing."

"Aye, and if only you could sing as well as you fight. I've heard you sing, and it's worse'n listenin' to a family o' crows!"

Rosco shook his head. "Hey, now, is that any way to speak to your superior?"

"Superior? Ha! I'm three years older'n you. By all rights you shouldn't even be here--you're only seventeen!"

"True, but I'm still a Colonel, and that means I outrank you, Major Hayes."

Wolfgang snorted. "Me an' everybody else. Yer lucky, you only answer to two people: General Nomed and the Emperor 'imself, may he live forever! Arr, I used ter be at the top o' the food chain meself, cap'n of the Wave Rider. I never had to answer to anybody. Now that I'm part o' the Shiran fleet, I'm havin' to deal with other cap'ns and admirals, and landlubbers who don't know jack about the sea!"

"Yes, yes, I know," Rosco interrupted. "You've told me a thousand times."

"But y'know, you've never told me yer story? Mind explainin' how yeh got t'be history's youngest Shiran?"

"Alright, but I'm starving right now. Let's go grab some lunch first. Hua?"

"Hua."

Fifteen minutes later the two friends were seated at a small table inside the palace's Dining Hall, their trays laden with as much food as they could hold without breaking.

"Good thing we beat the rush, or there'd o'been nothin' left!" Wolfgang said as he began cutting up a piece of meat. "So, now, about that story o'yers…"

Rosco nodded. "Well, let's see. It started when I was about fifteen years old. I decided that I wanted to go into the army like my father, and his father before him."

"Yer dad was in the army?" Wolfgang broke in.

"A Major, like yourself. He commanded a regiment of archers, some of the finest in the world. But I didn't want to be just a soldier, like him. I wanted to be a Shiran. So, when I turned fifteen, I was enrolled in the Academy.

I was the youngest person there, and a prime target for bullying. But I worked hard, and discovered that I had a knack for using rapiers. Oh, I could use other swords as well--scimitars and broad swords and the like--but I excelled with the rapier. I practiced with it day and night, at lunch, between classes, and any other spare time I had. In class, I devoted myself to learning all about strategy and past wars. In training sessions, I fought with a vengeance. Never settling for anything short of success, and would often stay up for hours practicing the same kata until I got it right. If anyone ever beat me in a sparring match, I would challenge them again and again, until I finally won. My hands were not as skilled with a bow as with a sword, so I spent long hours standing on the firing range, shooting until my fingers were numb and my back was sore from bending over.

All of that hard work paid off the day the Emperor--may he live forever!--sent scouts to recruit new men for his palace guard. I was chosen, along with a few other cadets, and next thing I knew I was here at the palace, working as a guard. It was a lot like the Academy at first. No one really took me seriously, especially when I told them I wanted to be a Shiran. But again, I devoted myself entirely to my new job, determined to prove I was more than just a foolish child.

The chance to prove myself arrived unexpectedly one morning when a band of about twenty thieves from the Wild Lands broke through the main gate (At the time the gate was only held with a wooden bar, not an iron one like nowadays). As it was barely an hour past dawn, I was one of the few people on duty, and the only one near enough to do anything, save for the gatekeeper. He was still half-asleep, though, and the thieves killed him before he could raise the alarm. I drew my rapier and charged, shouting, 'Kirvati!' the time-honored warcry of my family. It means 'come dance with me.' By the time backup arrived I had killed all twenty men. That was when General Nomed first spoke to me. He asked me what my name was, and when I told him he said, 'Rosco Geraldi, eh? They should call you Rosco the Rapier!' and the name stuck. Then, a month later, I was promoted to the ranks of the Shiran. After that it wasn't long before I became a Major. I earned my current rank in a battle against the Savages of the Wild Lands, fighting side by side with the General. I saved his life, and he rewarded me with a promotion."

Wolfgang let out a low whistle. "That's quite a story, mate. Wish I had a tale like that…o'course, I s'pose cabin boy to cap'n to Shiran ain't bad. An' then there are all those stories o' how I fought against pirates and high seas."

He began telling Rosco about one of his adventures, but the young man wasn't listening. Rosco studied his friend, sitting lazily in his chair, every inch a sailor. His large hands were callused from years of hard labor, and they were connected to powerful arms decorated with tattoos of ships and sea monsters. Wolfgang was large, made almost entirely of muscle. His face was weather-beaten and scarred. The ever-smiling mouth was missing a few teeth, which were no doubt flouting out in the sea somewhere. His vibrant blue eyes betrayed no sign of the hardships he had endured in the past--only joy. All this was topped by a mass of yellow hair that always looked as though it had been combed by the wind of a gale.

Wolfgang looked at him quizzically. "Yer not listenin', are yeh?"

"Yes I am," Rosco lied. "Please, continue."

"Well anyhow, there I was, surrounded by pirate ships. I couldn't make a run for it, an' worse, they 'ad the weather gauge. I knew I didn't 'ave enough ammo ter fight 'em all, but I wasn't goin' down easy! We loaded the cannons with chain shot ter tare up their sails. If a ship's got no sails, she might as well surrender. Eventually we broke through their ranks an' got out o' that circle, but we still had a ways ter go before we were safe. The chain shot was all used up, an' we switched ter single shot. Dismasted one ship, raked another 'cross its stern--"

"Raked?" Rosco asked, completely lost. "What does that mean?"

"Instead of hittin' 'er on the side, we hit 'er back. Does more damage. Now, where was I? Oh, yeah, we raked one of 'em--I think it was called the Sea Blood. Then there was just one left--"

"Giraldi, sir!"

They turned to see a soldier, slightly younger that Rosco, standing at attention next to them. He saluted smartly, and the other two followed suit.

"What do you need, Private?" Rosco asked.

"Sir, you are wanted in the Briefing Room immediately," the soldier said. Rosco glanced at Wolfgang.

"Duty calls." He turned to the Private. "Is that all?" The soldier nodded. "In that case, I'll be on my way."

The Briefing Room consisted of a single, rectangular table. At it's head sat Emperor L'Kal, wearing the same black robes that he wore at the feast. On his right sat General Nomed. Sitting next to him was Vir'tan, the assassin. No one knew Vir'tan's last name, or where he came from. Or, indeed, anything bout him. All they knew was that he worked for the Emperor.

Rosco took a seat opposite the General, apologizing for his tardiness.

"It's all right," L'Kal assured him. "You came as soon as you were informed. Now let us get on with the purpose of this meeting: the Amulet of Life. As you already know, the Amulet's guardian has fled with it into another dimension via a portal. I want it back! And you three are going to get it for me."

"Excuse me, m'lord," Rosco interrupted, "but how are we supposed to get it from another dimension? We don't even know where the guardian fled to."

L'Kal chuckled. "Geraldi, please! Let's be serious here! Do you honestly think that I, the most powerful sorcerer in the world, could be stopped so easily? I have already preformed a locator spell. I know exactly how to re-create the portal that the Guardian used. Once I have created it, you three will go through it, and bring my amulet back."

"Just the three of us, sir?" the General asked. L'Kal nodded.

"I want you to keep low profiles. We don't know anything about the locals; they may sympathize with the Guardian. You are to get in, get the amulet, and get out. Hua?"

"Hua!"

A/N: And they're off! Looks like we're gonna have some good action coming up. Now for a quick disclaimer:

*That song was taken from Pearls of Lutra by Brian Jacques, with a few minor alterations.

Okay, now to answer all of those wonderful reviews. : )

Ishandahalf: I have to agree with you about the crack thing. ^_^

Barbara Ruiz: Evil, ain't I? I love suspense, because it means you'll be back for more!

Krazy Xanadu: Well you have officially made my week. Unfortunately, the updates are going to slow down once school starts. ;_; Can't wait to read chapter 7 of yer fic!

Rogue151: about Kurt being like the Boris guy, I did that on purpose, cuz Boris was played by Allen Cumming, the same guy who plays Nightcrawler in X2. I just wanted to see if anyone could make that mental leap. And yes, Jean is an airhead. Hands up, whose surprised? *looks around* Nobody? Go figure. DAREDEVIL ROCKS! It's got Jennifer Garner and Ben Affleck, what more could you possibly want??? (Except maybe Vaughn.) Nobody at my house watches Alias as religiously as I do. And on the off chance that they actually see an episode, they never want to talk about it afterwords…y'know, I have the same problem with the books I read…I think I know who the Haldki guy is now, but I could be wrong. Ah, well. Later.

Yumiko: Oookay.

The Last Ronin: I know Forge isn't new, but he isn't exactly a main character either. I try to focus on the people I know a lot about. And you're right, short fics are suspenseful. I'm trying to learn how to make long chapters that are just as suspenseful.

Shadow of the Sword: Sir, yes sir!

Okay, now that I've spent the last ten minutes screwing around with this POS, I finally think I know why FF.Net isn't accepting it. AAAAAARRRRRRRGGGGGGGHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

It'll be a miracle if I get this thing up within the next hour.

Bye.