Disclaimer: I don't own FFTA or Dungeons and Dragons. I'm not cool enough.
-pokes review screen- Only two bloody reveiws! But at least the people who reviewed me liked it. Why can't you other people appreciate good writing and comment upon it?
Jade Silver: Why thank you. I've beaten the whole game, including all 300+ missions. It's pretty awesome, especially the second ending.
X-Aria-Ztar-X: Keep reading! I need your reveiws and recommendations. And is Mako-Streak always that mean?
One more thing. This chapter has spoilers for the second ending. So if you don't want to know, don't read the rest of this story until you've beaten the remaining missions of the game. But don't forget to read this afterward.
Claen'tor: The first nice day of spring and I finally work up the willpower to continue writing this fic! You readers are hanging me out to dry here! I need a nice count of reveiws to be confident to keep going. Please? Since threats aren't working.
Edwin: They are working.
Claen'tor: How so?
Edwin: They are so scared of what you would do that they don't even read it. -grins at my joke at Claen'tor's expense-
Claen'tor: That's not funny! -red fur darkens in anger-
Cale: Fireworks are about to fly, so I'll be starting the fic before we muses get into gory detail. Annnd... FIC!
Chapter 3: The Dreaded Return
Special Judge Eric returned from the engagement in the Materiwood, considerably battered and in the midst of my ongoing chess game with former Judgemaster Cid.
"Judgemaster! There's a strange creature in the Materiwood who can defeat us judges!" he gasped out.
There goes my chess game... I got up and stretched. "What do you mean, 'defeat us judges'?"
Eric caught his breath. "I mean he, at least I think it's a he, can counter all of my imprisonment spells and ripped up one of the supposedly indestructible red cards with his bare hands. When I had shown up on the engagement field, he had already killed his two opponents, a pair of level 46 Red Panthers, in spectacular fashion. One was cut in two and the other was almost the same. When I tried to imprison him for engaging before I arrived, he ripped the card off of his fur and shredded it like so much paper."
This caught my interest. "You say he shredded a red card? With his bare hands? You obviously fought him, and came out the worse. What happened then?"
Eric looked embarrassed for a second. "He laughed at my sword when I drew it. Called it a 'poorly forged piece of iron'. I charged him with my mount, but he merely moved out of the way and..."
"And what?" After all, the tale was getting interesting.
Eric was mute for a second. "He knocked me of my mount with his elbow. And before I could blink, he had me at his mercy. He told me to go back here and tell you how... weak... I was."
Cid perked up, as if he hadn't been listening before. "What did the stranger look like?"
"He had the head of a dog, similar to the god of death, Anubis, you told me about. And his fur was a brilliant red. There was a greatsword, the likes I've never seen, was at least as big as I am tall." Eric was not tall, a mere five and a half feet. But still, a greatsword more than five feet long. That's a pretty big sword to move faster than a chocobo with. "He was about six foot, and well muscled, like a Fighter crossed with a Paladin." Eric's description obviously was potent. Cid looked somewhat shocked.
"What is it, Cid?" I asked.
Cid suddenly went all business, all trace of shock gone. "Marche, we have to speak in private. Eric?"
Eric took his leave hastily, remembering the old Judgemaster's anger when his orders were not properly followed.
When the door clicked shut and the sound of Special Judge Eric's footsteps faded, I turned to Cid. "What is it?"
"They've returned," he stated simply, considering his reaction to Eric's description.
"Who's they?" Obviously, this was important. And I needed the right facts. I sat back down.
"They are a race of creatures from a different dimension called Celestials. Some thousand years ago, the people of Ivalice and the surrounding countries joined forces to drive them away. We wanted self-rule and they weren't allowing it. Some were very powerful, and hundreds died to drive them away." Cid looked distracted while he spoke, as if remembering a long past warning. "We were almost defeated by them, and there had only been approximately three thousand total on Ivalice's dimension. We had millions. None of the Celestials died. They only retreated. Most of us were crippled or killed, just to drive them away."
Now I couldn't wait to meet this challenge. A powerful race... Well at least it's just one so far. "It's just one. So what's the worry? Maybe it came here by accident."
Cid thought about this for a minute.
"Perhaps. But we have to assume the worst. It would be the return of a regime if the one is merely a scout."
I stood again, moving to my adamantite armor in the corner. "Well then, we must waste no time to stop this threat."
Cid got up as well. "I'll go with. Even you would probably need backup. And I'll bring Montblanc as well."
I grinned at the idea of a challenge as I strapped on my armor, and buckled on my twin blades, Avyuir Red and Blue. Looks like the busy life of a Judgemaster must face other threats thanrogue judges. Heh. Ritz will want to know about this. I wonder how the twins are doing?
End Chapter 3
Claen'tor: -battered and bruised- Well... In case you couldn't tell, Marche is the Judgemaster now. And he's a bit older. With children. Yes, I was a bit vague on the details. If you want to find out more, you have to read when I get to chapter 6. So reveiw and make me feel good enough to keep writing.And I always come out worse in any fights with Edwin. I haven't even hit him yet! -makes another half-hearted swing at him, which he, of course, dodges-
Edwin: You can't keep up with me, that's all. -smirks-
Cale: No more fighting, children. Claen'tor has to be functional to write more, you know. Because he'd never let you write anything to screw up his stories, Edwin.
Edwin: I don't need to screw up his stories, he does that fine by himself. Alrightly then, you readers know the drill. I threaten, you read and reveiw.
Claen'tor: I said no more reader threats, Edwin!