Once again, sorry for the delay, but Murphy's Law paid us a visit on Thursday, as our hotwater heater went out with a bit of a bang…and left quite a mess. That, combined with the fact that I was late in submitting this chapter to animedragongirl, who is already overworked at the moment without me adding to the pile, has caused the delay.

Also, due to the lateness of my submission, this chapter has not been betaed yet. Once animedragongirl get's done, a fully corrected version will be reuploaded. That said, if you spot a glaring error, let me know, as I really hate having those, and we've all scene how effective my beta reading is.

Another thing, is that I have submitted an application to a fantasy/science fiction writing workshop that will take place this summer. I used the first chapter of this story for my work sample, and wish me luck on getting accepted, because if that happens, well, I might just be able to make something of a career out of this if they can help me tune up my work to publishing status, as Odyssey, the name of the workshop, has a very good reputation for being able to turn out successful authors. (crosses fingers)

To all of you who reviewed, I thank you, and I hope I was able to answer your questions fully.

Oh yes, before I forget, I want to share another drawing with you that CopyCat87 of Deviant Art was kind enough to do for me. If the link doesn't work, let me know, and I'll e-mail it to you. Now, the link:

http/ www. deviantart. com/ deviation/ 29761171/

Note, you'll have to take out the spaces I put in, because every time I've tried to post a link normally, the web format deletes it for some bizarre reason…(grumbling)

Lawyers: I own nothing, so don't sue, and quit calling me!

That said, here's chapter twenty

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Battle, History, and a Journey

Scourge look around his throne room, staring at the few troops he had left under his command. They were barely thirty in number, but they were his own elites, soldiers hardened by years of desert warfare against Wastelander and Metal Head alike. Furthermore, he and his soldiers had rigged up some impromptu barricades, and were rather dug in considering the circumstances. That, combined with the fact that there was only one point of entry, made this last stand of theirs a proverbial meat grinder that would tear through the thing ranks of his enemies.

Under normal circumstances, well, as normal as they could be at a time like this, the Marauder leader would have been quite confident in their ability to hold out. As it was, though, he was rather troubled by the bits and pieces of radio traffic that he had been able to pick up on, as it seemed to be hinting that the enemy had something up there sleeve. What he knew for a fact was that there were at least two enemy soldiers in particular who were decorating the stone walls with the innards of the men and women that were under his command.

Still, however, skilled they were, there were still only elves, and therefore, they could bleed and die just like any other mortal.

He shouldered a massive assault rifle, waiting for the inevitable assault, smiling grimly behind his helmet at the thought of making those fools pay for daring to attack him.

With any luck, he'd be able to capture one or maybe both of those warriors alive, and then he'd really use them as an example of what happened when a person such as himself was crossed.

The assault was soon enough in coming, as he heard the sound of banging on the reinforced door of the throne room. Everyone tensed, preparing to unleash a devastating volley that would doubtlessly turn the first few ranks of the Wastelanders into swiss cheese.

The banging came a couple times more, before it stopped, and all became deathly silent, the kind of strange calm one got with the eye of a hurricane… right before the other side came for round two.

It was then that a strange, pulsing type noise began to fill the air, and a couple of the Marauders exchanged glances with one another, wondering what sort of weaponry their enemies were about to employ.

They found out a couple of seconds later, when the doors were literally blown clean off of their hinges, flying through the air and crashing to the ground, traces of Dark Eco hissing upon it. Not a second later, something that was most certainly not of elven origins came barreling through the door.

Only then did Scourge truly understand why his soldiers had termed one of the enemies a demon, for it truly seemed as though one of those abyss spawned creations was among them, and for a moment, all he and the others could do was stare in stunned silence as the creature leapt up, flipped around, and sank its talons into the semispherical wall/roof of the room. It then began to rush upwards, running along the ceiling at a pace that no ordinary elf could hope to match.

It was then that time seemed to resume its normal flow, and the Marauder leader began to bark out orders to his subordinates, while aiming his rifle at the beast and firing with wild abandon.

"Shoot it down! Shoot it down!" he screamed, an order that was repeated several times over as enough small arms fire to knock down a Hellcat cruiser filled the air.

But the Dark Eco demon was far too fast for them to hit, and their intense effort on killing him proved to be the suitable distraction that would seal their fates. For while they were attempting to pump Kage full of holes, they failed to notice Keira, who came in a moment later, Masamune cocked back and ready to strike.

The Marauders realized the gravity of their error when the angelic Channeler leapt over the barricade, landing on one of the soldiers in the process. As she crushed the life out of him, she glared around, smirking as the enemy took notice of her and realized the level of hot water that they were in. A moment later, she was upon them.

The angel extended her left hand towards a small group of Marauders, and white fire leapt from her fingertips, crackling and roaring as they shot towards them. The strange fire engulfed them a moment later, and burned through metal armor, cloth, and skin with equal ease. The soldiers flailed about, dropping their weapons as they threw themselves to the ground and rolled about, frantically trying to extinguish themselves.

Keira then pushed off of the ground once more, vaulting backwards through the air and skewering another Marauder in the process. Not wishing to stop her little rampage, the girl lashed out with her clawed foot as she landed. The twin talons punched through the woman's armor, and made quick work of her intestines. Her gun held in a death grip as she spasmed, she was able to fire off a couple of rounds. However, the slugs failed to penetrate the Vibrium armor that Keira was encased in, and merely pinged off the of chest plate, ricocheting back and tearing through the dying Marauder.

She sensed that another soldier was busy taking aim at her from behind, but she merely smiled as she realized the futility of his efforts.

The Marauder in question was leveling an assault rifle. However, as he went to pull the trigger, pain exploded through his back, and he opened his mouth to scream, only to find the air driven from his lungs as he hit the stone floor. A moment later, he was dead, crushed underneath the weight of the oni that had suddenly descended from the ceiling.

With a roar that could be heard even over the din of the battle that raged, Kage shot forward, bringing Kitetsu and a phantom copy of the dark katana down and cleaving an enemy apart. At the same time, he spun about, lashing out with his tail and smashing it across the chest of another Marauder. The elf went flying, crashing headlong into one of the barricades, where he slumped to the floor, his body crushed and broken.

Within ten seconds, every single soldier save for Scourge was dead, and the Marauder leader simply stood where he was, his eyes bulging out from behind his helmet as he looked at the sheer power that these two… things… had unleashed upon his men. Then, as the angel and the demon turned to look at him, he snarled, dropped his rifle and drew his massive blade, readying it and shifting his glance back and forth between the two of them, his stance daring them to come forward and test his mettle. However, it was not to be.

"Kage, Keira, wait!" came a voice that Scourge knew all too well from battlefields of time's past, and rage as he'd never known it before welled up inside of him.

A moment later, Valthos leapt over the barricades, coming down with a flip and easily landing on his feet. Both of the Ascended Channelers looked to him, suddenly understanding what was going on, and why they had been ordered to wait as opposed to turning Scourge into something that looked like it came out of a blender.

One leader versus another, man to man, with no outside interference, how very traditional.

Both of them nodded gravely at the Sand King, before dashing back out the way they came in, heading off to see if there was something they could do to assist the rest of the Wastelanders.

Valthos spared them a backwards glance as they left, before returning his attention to the massive, armored Marauder that stood in front of him, whom he knew would like nothing better than to kill him, if only to get one last, defiant spit in the face of his enemies. However, while he was still very much aware of how much damage that Scourge's blade was capable of inflicting, to say nothing of the massive amount of armor that his foe was incased in, the ruler of Spargus had every confidence that he was going to come out on top in this fight. As such, he decided that however tactically unwise it might have been under normal circumstance's that he would draw this battle out, as opposed to making it quick.

This, after all, was vengeance. Let his foe know what fate awaited him, know that Death was going to come and drag his soul down to the eternal torment that awaited him.

However, he was still going to play it safe while he was at it. Thus, he quickly made use of his belt and assimilated some Red Eco into himself.

Up until this point, the Marauder leader had not been aware of the nature of his nemesis, and thus was caught rather off guard, his jaw dropping behind his helmet as he realized that this might be a little more difficult than he first calculated. This surprise move gave Valthos all the time that he needed to level his gunblade, take aim at Scourge, and fire off a round to get the event started.

Not surprisingly, the slug bounced off of his armor without the slightest hint of inflicting damage. In response, Scourge let out a mighty battle cry, and against all odds, despite how heavily he was weighed down by his sword and armor, he leapt at Valthos. The Sand King rolled out of the way as the huge weapon came crashing down, forming a dent in the floor and rattling the whole room as it impacted. Scourge was quick to put his massive strength to good use, and was determined not to let his highly skilled adversary get of any attacks own off, bringing the weapon out of the floor and swinging it horizontally. He went so far at to make a complete three hundred and sixty degree spin, letting centrifugal force help him out in the weight department while he tried to take down his foe.

This time, Valthos didn't dodge, opting to stand his ground and lock his feet into a defensive stance. Then, with his strength enhanced by the Eco that he had absorbed, he blocked the strike, an unearthly clang filling the room as the two sword met. For some moments, the two combatants grunted and heaved, each trying to gain the advantage over the other as their weapons grated harshly back and forth against one another, creating sparks that filled the air.

Finally, Valthos broke the blade lock, and quickly ducked underneath his opponent's strike as it whoosed overhead. At the same time, he took advantage of the inertia created by such a weapon to quickly get a few strikes in on Scourge. The Marauder's armor was well made, however, and it held up to the assault, with only a couple of grooves to show for the Sand King's efforts. However, he was prepared for such an event, and quickly back flipped as the massive blade came back in, sailing neatly over it, while firing off another round from his weapon. As before, it did little, if any, damage to the massive Marauder, aside from making Scourge all the more enraged.

Once more, Scourge leapt, cocking his massive weapon behind his head, before bringing it down with enough force that it probably would have hacked through the armor of a scorpion assault tank. However, with a deft roll, Valthos was out of harm's way, smirking behind his cloth facemask as the room rattled once more.

He charged back into the fray as Scourge readied his weapon, brining his gunblade in from the side to strike against the ribcage of his foe. The weapon bounced off with little success, and the Sand King was forced to duck a vicious backhand that would have likely crushed his skull had it connected. As it was, it gave him the perfect opportunity to draw first blood. He quickly jabbed upward with his gunblade, and smirked once more as it nailed Scourge in the armpit, drawing blood and tearing through flesh.

The Marauder took the blow stoically letting no cry of pain escape, while a rampage with his massive weapon a moment or two latter let Valthos know that the wound was a minor irritant at worst.

Deciding that the time had come to further humiliate his foe, Valthos jumped backward, before reaching down to his belt and acquiring some Blue Eco. Instantly, his movement speed increased, and he spent the next few seconds literally running circles around Scourge, laughing out loud as the Marauder tried in vain to keep up with him. A blow came in, aimed at the back of the other elf's neck. The armor wasn't as thick at that point, designed more for deflecting a glancing blow or an angled shot from a ranged weapon, as few actually lived more than a few seconds against Scourge in melee combat, so he saw no need to chafe up his neck with the same variety of heavy plate as the rest of his body. Thus, the gunblade was able to tear through and make a teasing, tiny gash along the back of his neck.

As he whirled around to face his speedy nemesis, another stinging mockery of a blow came in, this one along the back of his leg, right where the back of his right kneecap was. A second later, his world was rocked as Valthos leapt up and planted both of his feet into the back of the Marauder leader's helmet with an audible 'bong.' Somewhat dazed and disoriented form the attack, Scourge stumbled forward. He did have sense enough to turn around to face his opponent, but by that time, Valthos had once again used his superhuman speed to get behind him again, and this time, his other armpit was cut open, much to his fury.

Gripping his colossal blade as tightly as he could, Scourge once again began to spin around, hoping that with the nearly ten total foot reach that he had with it, that his foe might find himself within that range, and be taken care of. What he got instead was the ringing sensation of a few more slugs bouncing off of his heavy armor as Valthos wisely retreated back out of range.

Snarling in rage, the Marauder leader stopped his attack and turned to face his opponent, only to be rewarded with yet another bullet being thrown at him. This one ricocheted off of his helmet, less than an inch above where it was open to allow him to see out of. Glaring back at his foe, he saw the look in Valthos' eyes, and knew that the Sand King had missed on purpose. A fury filled his soul, and he charged the ruler of Spargus, heedless of the potential consequences of his actions. He brought his massive weapon in from the right side, swinging it upwards in hopes of splitting his foe in half, but another backwards vault put Valthos easily out of range.

However, the Sand King had reached a decision, and thought that it was a good time to stop toying with the large Marauder and finish the job. As Scourge once again charged him, he assimilated some Yellow Eco, and with a wicked, ear to ear grin, pointed his left hand at Scourge. Too late, the Marauder leader realized what was about to happen. He attempted to dodge, but he wasn't quite fast enough, and the energy beam caught him squarely in the chest.

Pain exploded in his world as the beam hit, blowing him backwards and causing him to lose his grip upon his weapon. Ironically enough, he was sent sailing into his throne, where his momentum and armor plating made him act something like a living artillery shell, and blasted it apart before slamming against the stone wall, where he slide to the ground.

The stench of burnt flesh was heavy in the air as Valthos slowly strode over to where his enemy lay.

One looked revealed that Scourge was dying. The blast had caught him dead on, and had actually turned his armor against him, as it had melted under the fury of the attack, and was now attached to his chest.

Helpless due to the fact that the force of the impact had shattered his spin, Scourge stared up at Valthos, his eyes narrowing hatefully behind his helmet.

He opened his mouth to say something, to utter one last spiteful sentence, but before he could, he felt a pain across his neck, and the last thing he was aware of was his world spinning violently before all went black.

Valthos, looking down upon the decapitated corpse, noticed that some of Scourge's blood had spattered upon his armor, but he made no move to remove it. Instead, he leaned down, and slowly lowered the cloth mask that covered his face. He then spat upon the headless body.

Replacing his mask, the Sand King made his way out of the throne room, knowing that the spirits of his fallen people would sleep easier tonight.

One hour had passed since the fall of the leader of the Marauders, and the Wastelanders were quite busy running about the fortress, searching for tools, weapons, foodstuffs, and anything else that might be useful. After all, Spargus was still going to be in need of some major repairs, and it would take quite a while before things returned to any semblance of normalcy.

Jak, Keira, and Daxter were all huddled around the Slam Dozer, catching their breath and taking a well deserved break from the rigors of hauling everything around, and also attempting to remove the copious amounts of blood from their armor. Sig and Seem were there as well, as the monk finally explained to them exactly what had happened inside of the fortress.

"Why didn't you tell anyone about this?" Jak inquired, cocking his head to one side as he paused in his cleaning attempts.

"You are not very familiar with the situation regarding Channelers outside of Haven, are you?" Seem responded, a frown appearing upon her face while her eyes darkened.

"Not really, no," the Ascended Channeler responded.

"Where you come from, your kind are hailed as heroes and great warriors for their powers," the monk said, her voice quiet and soft, "in other places, far from here, to have such blood in your veins is a curse."

"Could you please speak in plain English for once?" Daxter inquired, groaning and rubbing his forehead at the same time.

"The Hora-quan hunt us because of the legacy that we carry within us," Seem explained. "Because of that, many people fear that the presence of a Channeler among them will result in the Metal Heads arriving to raze their community to the ground, and as such, when they are discovered, they are either driven from town, or the people try to put them to death."

"I'll assume try is the key word in this instance?" Keira remarked, knowing how powerful their kind were compared to 'normal' elves.

"We are more vulnerable than you might think," The monk replied in a sober tone. "But that was not the fate of myself, nor of my father, from whom I draw my powers."

"Now you've really gotten me confused!" Daxter muttered, rolling his eyes and giving up on any hope of ever getting a straight sentence out of the crimson eyed girl.

"We lived in a small city at the far southern end of the continent," She explained, looking slowly around at everyone. "It was a place known as Cordova, and it was there that I was born and raised. My father, Zearic, was a Channeler, and he was the town healer, so we found acceptance among them, despite his heritage."

Seem's blood red eyes grew dark once more, and she could once more recall the screams of dying people, as the memories of that horrid day of her past came back as clear as the time in which they had occurred.

"One day, though, when I was about seven, all of that changed," She said after an eternity had passed, and she stared straight at Jak, her gaze boring into the dark elf. "Not all Channelers are noble like yourselves, there are those who use their powers for their own selfish ends, and one of those came into my world." She paused once more, drawing in a ragged breath before gathering the courage to continue. "His name was Nadeen, and he was a Channeler that favored darkness as his weapon."

Jak nodded silently, as did his inner demon, as they both saw the pieces that were beginning to fall into place now.

"He came with an army, but he scarcely needed them, as my home was not a military city, and we could rouse little more than a militia to stop him," The monk said, shaking her head sadly. "My father was with them that day, and met Nadeen upon the field of battle."

Silence hung in the air, and a chocked sob came from the throat of the monk, and there was a glistening in her eyes, the shimmering of tears that threatened to fall.

"From what I was told, my father fought well, but as I told you, he was a healer, not a warrior." She looked the dark Ascended Channeler straight in the eye, trying to let him understand the full depth of her vendetta against him. "Nadeen slew my father and slaughtered all that opposed him. Cordova fell inside of a day."

"I'm sorry," Jak muttered, a frown upon his face, as he understood all to well what it was like to have one's family ripped away from oneself.

"Do not be," Seem responded in a similar tone. "It should be I apologizing to you, for thinking that you and that tyrant were of the same nature."

There was an awkward silence, broken some moments later by Keira, whose ever inquisitive nature wanted to know how this tale ended.

"What happened next?" the tech head inquired.

"My mother, Helena, was wise enough to realize that Nadeen would find out about me, and despite my youth, would see me as a threat to his rule, as he did not wish for anyone who could one day challenge him to be within the city. She knew he would have had me killed without a second thought," The monk said, her tone distant. "We fled the city in the chaos of the takeover, and headed off to seek refuge elsewhere. Unfortunately, what we found instead was the Wasteland, and Death would have claimed me anyways, were it not for Sig."

From there, the Wastelander took over, telling of the tale of how he had found both mother and child nearly dead from dehydration. He spoke of the mother's death, and of how he took the girl in, he spoke of Seem's induction into the order of the monks, and how she had risen through their ranks to become head of the order.

By the time that he had finished, the sun was rising, and most everything of value had been rounded up, from equipment to prisoners, and it was time to head back. The Wastelanders were eager to do so, having spent enough time in the foul home of their enemy, and they wanted to just head back to Spargus, tend to their wounded, and get some rest before they started what was doubtlessly going to be a long and taxing repair process.

The trip back to Spargus went by much swifter than their journey to the Marauder Fortress, as they had no need to worry about stealth. For once, it seemed as if the heavens smiled upon them in their victory, for no harsh winds molested them, not prisoners tried to break free, and even the Metal Heads were nowhere to be found, for which just about every man and woman present was grateful for, as they were in no mood or condition to fend off the Hora-quan after everything else that had happened.

However, Jak, Keira, Daxter and Kage were a little anxious about the absence of any of the larger forms of the Hora-quan, who, from their understanding, would normally jump at the chance to ambush a convoy of elves. Thus, they were quick to reach a very sober conclusion: that they were gathering elsewhere, likely at Haven, to try their best to finish off the beleaguered defenders.

Thus, when they got back to Spargus, Jak was quick to locate Valthos, and pull him aside.

"I hate to cut and run," the dark elf began, looking the Sand King straight in the eye, "but Keira, Dax, and myself need to be getting back to Haven City."

"Why?" Valthos inquired, cocking his head slightly, and Jak could detect something foreign, almost unnatural in the other elf's voice, but he couldn't quite put his finger on exactly what it was.

"They're in a lot of trouble right now," Keira said, coming up from behind, removing her helmet, her eyes, which now glowed almost neon green in color and whose pupils were now a bizarre whitish-blue, narrowing slightly. "They're under attack by both the Metal Heads and a mechanized army, and they're going to need us."

The silence of the next few moments was deafening, as Valthos waged a war within himself, part of him knowing that the boy he now knew as his son, and the woman that was his daughter in law, even if she didn't realize it, had to return. He had not completely forgotten the city that he had once ruled, and despite what Praxis had done to him, he would not allowed for it to be destroyed simply because he was so selfish as to forbid their two greatest warriors to return in their hour of need.

But there was still a part of him that wanted to put his foot down, that part of being a parent that had laid buried and dormant for so long, that feared what might befall either of them if they were to throw themselves in harms way once again. Even Daxter, the annoying little rodent that he was, had managed to earn a little place in the Sand King's heart, and he was grateful that the gods had been kind enough to give his son such a loyal friend, despite the ottsel's eccentrics.

There was also all that his son had done for him personally. In a way, he finally felt as if he had come back to the land of the living, knowing that he was still alive. Once more, the Sand King was ready to lead his people, for good or ill.

However, as he looked into Jak's alien eyes, and saw the man that his boy had grown into, he knew what his choice was going to have to be.

"If you want to get to Haven by crossing the Wasteland," he said, his voice carefully measured and as devoid of emotion as he could make it, "you'll want to take one of our Sand Sharks. It's the fastest thing we've got that can hold the supplies that you'll need. Talk to Kleiver, and he'll get one set up for you."

"Thank you," Jak said, and both he and his soul mate turned and went off to find the quartermaster.

"That's the last of the fuel cans," Kleiver said, dusting his hands off as he looked at the group for the last time before they left, "you sure this all that you'll be needing?"

"We'll be fine," Keira stated, grateful that their journey was about to commence. "Thank you for everything, Kleiver."

"You blokes just watch yourselves," The Aussie elf said, a crooked smile coming over his face.

"Don't worry about us," Daxter replied, scratching his chest and then looking down at his fingernails, "just pray that ole tweety bird here doesn't get in any more trouble."

Pecker, the obvious target of the joke, nearly went purple with rage.

The moncaw had been captured in the initial attack, and Scourge that thought the idea of such a pet to be a humorous one indeed, and had promptly had a cage made for his containment. The Wastelanders had found him like that in Scourge's private quarters, and once Daxter had gotten wind of it, Pecker realized that the ottsel had just been handed a lifetime supply of ammunition to use against him in their little war with each other. He also had little doubt that as soon as they returned and linked up the with elven defenders, that all of Haven would know of this little incident… unless he found some means of blackmailing the ottsel into silence. Yes, he'd have to find something like that, and fast…maybe the little furball talked in his sleep?

So lost was the familiar in his musings that was almost blown off of his perch when the Sand Shark rocketed forward. Jak was behind the wheel, and quickly got the small dune buggy up to its full speed as they shot past the ruined gates of Spargus and headed off in the direction of his homeland.

Valthos, up upon one of the walls, overseeing the repairs, felt a tear well up, and he quickly blinked it away, lest one of his people see it.

"Why didn't you tell him?" came a voice from behind.

He turned to find Sig staring at him, a strange look upon his dark skinned visage.

"Because, Sig," Valthos replied with a sigh, "that part of my life is dead and gone. I may have been his father, but I am not the one who raised him…" he said before trailing off. "I think it is for the best that he think that I am dead, for in a way, Damas is no longer among the living."

With that, the Sand King returned to his work.

However, images of the dark elf and the son that he had loved so dearly would not leave his mind's eye, and he hoped and prayed, that all would be well for him.

He'd been through too much to not have a happy ending to the sordid tale that had been his life thus far.

&

Okay, once again, if this chapter sucks, I apologize, and for any glaring errors, they will hopefully be fixed shortly.

As before, if you have any ideas on weapons, powers, etc, let me know and I'll try to use em. If you have any other comments, from constructive criticism to flame, feel free to review.

Oh yes, something a friend sent me the other day, a cliché list of RPGs and the like, has caused me to laugh my heart out. Here are some selected things from it, a couple of which I am guilty of violating…

Cliché Number Two

"No! My beloved peasant village!"
The hero's home town, city, slum, or planet will usually be annihilated in a spectacular fashion before the end of the game, and often before the end of the opening scene.

Cliché Number Nineteen

"Silly Squall, bringing a sword to a gunfight..."
No matter what timeframe the game is set in -- past, present, or future -- the main hero and his antagonist will both use a sword for a weapon. (Therefore, you can identify your antagonist pretty easily right from the start of the game just by looking for the other guy who uses a sword.) These swords will be far more powerful than any gun and are often themselves capable of distance attacks.

Cliché Number Thirty Two

You Can't Kill Me, I Quit! (Seifer Rule)
The good guys never seem to get the hang of actually arresting or killing the bad guys. Minor villains are always permitted to go free so they can rest up and menace you again later -- sometimes five minutes later. Knowing this rule, you can deduce that if you do manage to kill (or force the surrender of) a bad guy, you must be getting near the end of the game.

Cliché Number Thirty Three

And Now You Die, Mr. Bond! (Beatrix Rule)
Fortunately for you, the previous rule also applies in reverse. Rather than kill you when they have you at their mercy, the villains will settle for merely blasting you down to 1 hit point and leaving you in a crumpled heap while they stroll off, laughing. (This is, of course, because they're already planning ahead how they'll manipulate you into doing their bidding later in the game -- see Way To Go, Serge.) (Kor shoulda read this one…)

Cliché Number Forty Seven

We Had To Destroy The Village In Order To, Well, You Know The Rest (Selene Rule)
No matter what happens, never call on the government, the church, or any other massive controlling authority for help. They'll just send a brigade of soldiers to burn your entire village to the ground.

Cliché Number Forty Nine

Maginot Line Rule
It is easy to tell which city/nation is the next conquest of the Evil Empire: its streets are filled with citizens who brag that the Empire would never dare attack them, and would be easily defeated if it tried. (This smug nationalism always fails to take into account the Empire's new superweapon.)

Hope you enjoyed these, will post some more with the next chapter.

Until then, have a great week!