Apologia pro this here story: This is something of a re-imagining of, or expansion on, several events in FF3. It may seem that I've taken a great deal of liberty with what happens (and I have), but let me explain. Places and events in games are generally representations of what the game's story says should be. Thus, grand capitals of mighty empires usually have a diameter of a quarter mile and a population of thirty. From this, we do not assume that the empire is composed of particularly infecund and unambitious people, but rather we accept this as an in-game representation of a much larger fictional city.
Likewise, in FF3 or 6 or what have you, when you complete all the branch-quests and meet together back at Narshe, the black-screen text says "a decisive battle is about to take place." It involves seven (7) Returners. Well, I decided to expand this into a larger battle. Coincidentally, this is what's described below. Some of the dialog is based on a translation of the Japanese version, or on stuff I made up. Also, despite several years of protacted legal wrangling, I do not own anything relating to FF3, aside from a dusty old cartridge. Now, I present to you the first of several chapters.
In the cold north sat the independent city-state of Narshe, a large mining community stretched thin across several miles of mountainside. Narshe had long relied on its isolated position in desolate terrain to protect it and its considerable resources from the warring common in the warmer and more hospitable southern realms, but a recent nighttime raid by a mere three Imperial soldiers in Magitek armor had cut a swath through Narshe's proud militia and had so upset the town's faith in its own defense that the city's leaders were considering the unprecedented prospect of a military alliance with the Empire's enemies.
Such agreements and treaties ran counter to long-standing traditions of independence and self-reliance that the citizens of Narshe held as essential to their city's culture. Furthermore, war could disrupt the trade with other lands that Narshe relied on for food. As such, the proposals put forward by the Returners (the only of the two sides to show interest in Narshe's welfare) had been met with skepticism and a good deal of rationalization and denial for almost a week. Discontent and fear had mounted in the city, however, and Narshe's leaders had finally agreed to a meeting
In the city Elder's house, which also served as a point of assembly, sat the Elder and some of the city's most influential citizens. Before them sat the charismatic, title-less leader of the Returner rebellion, Banon, accompanied by the Returners' chief and only local supporter of note, the wealthy but xenophilic Arvis Tilwer, and the young and somewhat lascivious King of Figaro, Edgar Roni. Behind them, staring pensively out of a window, stood Terra, the recently freed Imperial slave and amnesiac.
The town's Elder sat at the middle of a large table, with the heads of the ore and coal mining guilds on his right. To his left were the town militia's marshal and the heads of the merchants' and tradesmen's guilds. Rather than feeling grateful for the Returners' proffered assistance in the face of Imperial aggression, most of the officials seemed to resent the rebels as the most visible face of the dilemma facing Narshe. The presence of the woman who had effortlessly penetrated Narshes' defenses did not endear the Returners to them either, despite whatever claims of innocence were put forward on her behalf.
"-and Figaro's southern territories fell with hardly a fight, despite all its technology and its professional army!" the ore miners' leader nearly yelled. Edgar, the King of Figaro, struggled to maintain his composure. The miner had made the same point at the beginning of the meeting hours ago, and had kept returning to it, no matter how often Edgar pointed out that South Figaro had fallen through treachery, and that its army and technology were still quite effective. He rubbed his temples.
"As I have said before, much of that army escaped through the passes to the Figaran desert and is safe. We can train and better equip your militia so that this-" Edgar gestured out the window, where evidence of the raid more than a three weeks ago was still visible "-will not happen again."
Banon nodded. "And with Narshe as a base, we can reform several of our Returner bands that were scattered when the Empire attacked." The Elder waved everyone silent.
"We have heard all this, and I understand your position," he said, "but how can you expect us to encourage further bloodshed?"
Arvis made to reassure the Elder. "We do not ask that, merely-"
The Elder cut him off. "Much the same."
Banon laughed grimly and shook his head.
"You know, he is right, Arvis..."
The Elder and Arvis both looked at him, Arvis with a shocked expression.
"It is our blood being shed!" Banon stood and looked down at the Elder, who met his gaze impassively.
"We have men smuggling weapons and food past the blockade to Doma, and privateers attacking Imperial supply ships. We have people inside South Figaro organizing resistance there, and we've had no word from one of our best men in over a week. Our men and women on the Imperial continent die daily as saboteurs and spies. You don't want to encourage further bloodshed? The Empire needs no encouragement!"
He gestured at Terra.
"The Emperor did not ask this woman if she would fight for him. He forced her. He did not ask the people of Albrook to join the Empire. He sent in his armies. When Tzen and Maranda objected, he attacked them as well. He sacked those cities and slaughtered their leaders. And for trading with those lands during the war, the Emperor occupied all the remaining towns on the continent, despite their neutrality. Gestahl does not care about Narshe's freedom, or even about its metals or fuel. He will burn Narshe to the ground if he thinks there is a risk that you will not cooperate. The Empire will come for the Esper, and, even should you hand it over, and the Emperor, in a sudden fit of generosity, leaves you alone, Narshe will not be safe once he has accomplished his goal - the full resurrection of Magic."
The Elder's eyes widened, and the councilmen whispered to one another.
"The War of Magic..." sighed the Elder.
Banon gestured for the eager-to-speak Arvis to let the townsmen reflect. A silence stretched, until a guard opened the door.
"Elders, King Edgar's brother is here with..."
"Sabin!" exclaimed Terra and Edgar simultaneously. They both went to greet Sabin as he walked into the room, followed by a dark-haired easterner and an unkempt little boy. Terra, who had less faith in Sabin's natural durability, almost ran to embrace him. At the table, Banon watched the surprised faces of the town council with a smile, as they watched the "Imperial witch" they still distrusted act like a normal person.
"Sabin, we were worried..."said Terra.
"Terra, Edgar...surely you didn't think that my life would be in danger from a mere octopus?...or the empire, or a phantom train, or..." He grinned at their inquiring looks.
Edgar gave his brother a hug. "You can tell us about your journey later. I was only afraid you'd make me look bad by saving Figaro without me."
Sabin laughed. "I thought we were relying on Locke to single-handedly drive out the Empire. Has he gotten back yet?"
Terra shook her head. "No. He got several messages out of the city, but he's sent nothing for over a week."
Edgar rested a hand on her shoulder. "I've known Locke long enough to know he'll be fine. I'm sure he'll manage to...treasure-hunt away in the middle of night." He stepped back and gestured at Sabin's company. "But who are these fine folks you've brought here?"
Cyan stepped forward and bowed slightly to the assembled group. "I am Cyan Garamonde, a knight of Doma, and retainer to its king."
Gau cut in front of Cyan and gave the Figaran king a resplendent curtsy worthy of the finest young ladies. "Gau, your majesty!"
"And this...this young man is obviously named Gau." Edgar chuckled.
Banon cleared his throat and stood up. He walked over to Cyan and shook his hand. Cyan was somewhat taken aback by the relative lack of ceremony. "Sir Garamonde, I'm Banon. I'm glad to finally meet you in person. But does this mean that Doma is...?"
"Fallen to the Empire, aye. And not merely fallen, but slaughtered - her people poisoned by Kefka."
The Elder grimaced. "That's barbaric..."
Arvis and Banon both began talking.
"Narshe must enter the war...-"
"Elder..."
The Elder shook his head and cut them off.
"Doma was only destroyed because it cooperated with you! If we make that mistake too, then-"
He was interrupted by an exchange at the door. A man rushed in, followed by the Elder's guard and a woman wrapped in a white cloak.
"Elder, that's not true!"
There were two theories as to the origin of Narshe's name. The first, rather dull, theory held that it took its name from a tribe of people that lived in the area before the War of the Magi. The second theory, both more interesting and less likely, was that the name derived from an old word for "very cold." Locke Cole, who disapproved of the city's isolationism, held the latter view, and was expounding on it and other peculiarities that he felt to be the direst flaws of the city.
"But Narshe does help the Returners?" asked his companion, the erstwhile Imperial General Celes Chere, as the two of them walked through Narshe. She was wrapped up tightly with her cloak's hood covering much of her face, not for protection from the cold - it seemed to bother her no more than the searing heat of the desert further south had - but for anonymity.
"No, it's only a few people here that help us. All Narshe cares about is mining and trading. Most of the people here probably wouldn't know that the Empire is on an entirely different continent. Hell, most of them think the people in the valley to the south are complete foreigners. Narshes' founders came up here a long time ago, said, 'hey, it's really damn cold,' and decided to be miners and assholes." Locke chuckled and looked about the town. "They'll have no choice but to fight now, though. And, in fairness, the people are nice, if you get to know them. And they do make some damn fine schnapps..."
Celes "hmmed" noncommittally while staring at the snow drifts in alleys of the city remote from the steam engines' heat.
Locke chuckled. "I still can't believe you'd never heard of snow."
"It never snowed in Vector. The lands north of there are all even warmer, and I've never been south of Albrook in the winter."
"But you'd never even heard-"
"No one ever told me about it," she said flatly.
Locke didn't press the issue; he had noticed that Celes didn't like to talk about her life with the Empire. In truth, he reflected, it didn't seem like she had had much of a life at all. They walked in silence the last the quarter mile to the Elder's house. As they turned climbed the long staircase leading up to it, Locke turned to Celes.
"This is it. Are you sure you want to come right out in the open? I can say my sources were anonymous."
Celes seemed annoyed. "Of course I do. I told you that already. I'm just wrapped up because I don't want to be attacked before we get there."
"Fair enough...ah, Albin!"
The guard at the door cracked a smile when he recognized Locke. "Locke, I told you I'd be made the Elder's guard. Where's my raise?"
"He's a contact of mine here," Locke said at Celes' inquiring look. Turning back to the expectant guard, he said "I'm afraid there's no time to talk. I have to see the Elder now."
"He's in a meeting with-"
Locke grinned. "Excellent. When I walk in, apologize for not being able to stop me..."
"Doma was only destroyed because it cooperated with you! If we make that mistake too, then-"
"Elder, that's not true!" said Locke, with as dramatic a voice as he could muster, as he strode grandly into the room. He hesitated only a moment when he saw the company gathered there. The guard, Albin, rushed in after him, followed by Celes. The room fell silent and everyone turned to look at them. Locke was enjoying the moment.
"Elder, I'm sorry! He just rushed right past me and..."
Albin blushed and left at the Elder's harsh glare. The self-styled World's Greatest Adventurer was not well-liked by Narshe's leaders, due to his involvement in protecting Terra from their wrath after she was first freed from the Imperial slave-crown. Celes stopped behind Locke and gasped softly as she recognized Banon, Cyan and Edgar from description. She had expected to meet with some low level Returners and a few weathered old miners, not the leader of the movement, along with the king of Figaro and Doma's most famous knight. Looking at Cyan, her heart sank as she thought about the Elder's words as she entered . Doma was only destroyed because it cooperated with you! Kefka must have already poisoned them. It was too late to warn anyone.
The Returners in the room were thrilled to see that Locke had escaped South Figaro. Terra, still standing by the door, was overjoyed that both of the new friends she had been so worried about had ended up safe on the same day.
"Locke, you're back!" she said, embracing him. Stepping back, she looked at Celes with a strange expression of familiarity. Celes started as she recognized Terra for Kefka's enslaved Mage Knight.
Locke nodded to his friends and turned toward Narshe's councilmen.
"There's no time for debate, Elder. The Empire is preparing to attack Narshe as we speak. Hell, they could be marching on you right now!" The room sat in stunned silence, and Locke looked pleased with himself.
"Locke, how do you know that?" asked Banon after a moment.
"This is..." He looked back at Celes, who sighed and, though obviously on edge, nodded as she pulled the hood back from her face. "This is Celes Chere. She was an Imperial General." The room seemed even more stunned, and Locke looked even more pleased with himself. Cyan, suddenly, stood up and and put his hand to the pommel of his sword.
"I knew she looked familiar. Sir Gau, stand aside." He drew his sword, shoved Gau out of the way, and strode toward Celes, who felt suddenly too ashamed of herself, and of the totality of her past, to say anything.
"This is the woman who destroyed Maranda! A general of the same Empire that destroyed Doma!"
Locke stepped in front of him. "Wait! She's with us now! She's here to help us!"
"A notion I find exceedingly unlikely. Aside!" Locke drew his dagger in answer.
"I gave my word I would protect her," Locke said in a low voice. "I will not back down."
Edgar sighed as he saw his friend dredging up unpleasant memories. "Locke..."
Terra said sadly, "I was also an Imperial soldier..."
Cyan spun around to stare at her incredulously. "WHAT? Sir Sabin, are you Returners or just disgruntled Imperials?"
Edgar quickly stood and stepped between Cyan and Terra. "Sir Garamonde, just because the Empire is evil doesn't mean every Imperial is!"
Cyan shook his head and pointed his sword at Celes. "Perhaps...but this one is! She has undoubtedly been attached to this gullible fool to spy on us!"
"You idiot! Why the hell would they send a general as a spy!"
Celes put her hand on Locke's dagger-arm. "Locke, don't..."
It would have been a comical sight to a disinterested observer. Though Cyan was not much taller than Locke, he and his sword seemed to tower over the defiant adventure and his dagger. Sabin stepped forward. "This is not the best way to do this..."
Before the situation could develop further, the door was thrown open yet again and a breathless guard ran into the room.
"Sir!...The Empire...is coming this way!"
The Elder stood. "What? How many men?"
"Thousands!"
Narshe's councilmen were incredulous. "How did they move thousands of men without being spotted-" began the merchant, who was cut off by the Marshal.
The Elder frowned as the scout went on with his report. "It looks like war is unavoidable now." Edgar again fought to keep his annoyance in check. It's been unavoidable for weeks.
"They're coming for the Esper," stated Banon.
The Elder nodded. "We've moved it out of the mines, onto a large hill outside of the city."
Narshe's marshal sat dispiritedly "But we just don't have the men to fight. From the report, there must be ten thousand of them." Banon smiled slyly at the man.
"We can help somewhat. You probably haven't seen them, but I told my men-" He was cut off as Cyan coughed loudly and gestured with his head at Celes, still standing behind Locke. The town council and Banon looked over with expressions ranging from guarded suspicion to plain hostility. Locke bristled, and Edgar felt concerned for his friend. They had known each other before Locke had joined the Returners and convinced Edgar to do the same, and it seemed he was still troubled by his past.
The abashed look on on Celes' face suddenly gave way to one of determination, and she walked to the table and looked from person to person as she spoke. "Actually, Kefka - and it will be Kefka - probably has a little less than eight thousand men. I know because I-" she shivered slightly at the thought - "because I helped him with the planning." The whole room was silent for a moment. Banon stared at her thoughtfully, then nodded.
"Go on."
"General Palazzo! The last of our men are through the gap." Kefka turned on his chocobo and smiled.
"Excellent." He had managed to move an entire army past Figaro and through the valley north of it without Narshe detecting anything! Of course, it had been his own brilliant idea to make an entire division out of the best riders in the Empire's western army, and requisition most of the chocobos in southern Figaro. A small diversionary attack against the remnants of Figaro's armies in the desert had been enough to draw their attention, and Kefka had managed to load all the Magitek armor he needed onto the rail lines running from Figaro to Narshe. A few trains to carry spare mounts, weapons, and the few infantrymen who weren't adequate riders were all he had needed. Each of the three nights, the army had enjoyed a delightful rest in one of the defenseless farming towns in the valley - the townsfolk, when at gunpoint, were both properly respectful and forthcoming with their food.
Kefka growled, and the soldier speaking to him blanched. The hardest part had been not razing every damn one of these traitorous, rebellious hamlets...but columns of smoke would have given them away. There had been the occasional scout to spot them - Narshe apparently had learned a lesson from that last little raid - much as there were those who tried to slip away at night, along with the ubiquitous damn Returner bands that infested this awful part of the world, but Kefka had been involved very personally in cutting those down before they could spread the word. No scout could outrun his magic, and only the vaguest rumors would reach Narshe ahead of his army. He had gone without sleep the entire journey, but he had never slept much anyway.
The narrow gap at the north end of the valley had been Kefka's one concern, but his caution had been rewarded, and no resistance had greeted them. Now he could position his forces on the plains in front of Narshe and march on the city. They'd see him now that he deployed, but even these rubes would cause trouble if he rode into the city helter-skelter.
He turned to look at the soldier reporting to him and was delighted by the nervous expression on his face. "Set up our heavy infantry in the center and our shooters to their sides. Put the riders on our flanks. I want the Magitek armor in the very front. We will attack tomorrow morning. As soon as our Magitek armor is in range, have them use their fire beams on the town. Fire until no one fights back or they bring forth the Esper. And shoot whoever brings it, for good measure"
"But General, the civilians..."
Kefka sneered at the terrified soldier. Another one of Leo's little disciples... "Listen! If they're in the way, kill them! Kill them and apologize; I don't care! Just get me that Esper!" He would not take any chances. Few enough in the Empire knew about the failed raid on Narshe several weeks ago, but only he, the Emperor, that idiot Leo and that traitorous whore Celes - only two people knew that no one really knew at all what had gone wrong. The two men he had sent had disappeared, and then Kefka's own weapon had turned up in Figaro without her slave crown.
Kefka looked to the horizon, at the smoke rising from Narshe's steam engines and smelting plants, and he laughed quietly to himself. Soon, there would be much more smoke...