The day had turned and grey mist rose in ghostly shapes from the spine of the warship. The band of brothers descends through the merciless heated moisture in the air. Shoot had joined Syrup atop the warship with the Wolfenboss and a few other select pirates. "We are being followed," said Shoot and he pointed to the ridgeline. There sailed a silhouetted figure, watching the pirates' progress.

"It has followed us since Kitchen Island," determined Syrup.

"One of Tatanga's scouts?" contemplated the Wolfenboss.

"No," said Syrup. "The stride is more beast than man." Before they could contemplate further, Anonster pointed upwards to the towards the thin columns of black smoke on the blue horizon.

"Look, my captain!" he said enthusiastically. Syrup only sailed a small guard towards the village, but she entered alongside Cractus and his men. Buildings still smoldered and fell to ash. The small island village had been rendered a complete wasteland, void of hope and song. It was filled with the smell of the dead an of slaughtered livestock. "What happened here?" asked Anonster. "Where are the people?"

Syrup scanned the details of the destruction. This was a village of Snowmads, much like those that had once held Mario, Luigi, Toadsworth and Toad hostage. That particular island was further south than Kitchen Island, though, and these Snowmads seemed far more civilized. There were footprints in the wet ground, hooves of strange beasts, torn bits of a peasant's dress. Syrup crouched, tracing with her finger the claw like footprints in the blood-soaked ground. "Tatanga," she whispered.

The Wolfenboss knelt next to Syrup after surveying the scene himself. "I put their numbers at around twenty," he speculated.

"A scouting party… but these footprings… what could have…," she said as her voice trailed away. She had seen plenty of strange beasts in the past nine years, but none like those that had been tamed by the likes of Tatanga. However, the legends of Tatanga extended back centuries. It was he who provided Rool with the blade that he used to cut out his heart. This was an alien being that had picked the time to strike by reading the timeline as if it were a novel.

"A child!" pointed out Anonster and all of the pirates turned to see the naked form of a little girl. She was a phantom of a Snowmad, her thin pale body was covered in dirty and dried blood. The mass of Cractus' pirates parted as she moved between them and stood before Syrup in silence.

"Water," demanded Syrup. She was no doctor, but if not medicine, then it was hospitality.

"It's quiet now… they…," shivered the baby Snowmad as Cractus held water to her mouth. "They… they came with Catbats from the violet… two heads… serpent's tail… horrible claws… from my nightmares." The child was stoic in her telling of the tale. There were old men and youthful warriors who would have broken down by now. Yet this child hardly knew any fear before what she had seen this day. To think that the rest of Sarasaland thought her species savage.

"I've found them," panted Shoot, running toward Syrup and Cractus. He pointed toward a massive wind-blown mushroom tree at the top of a hill. The child collapsed at the feet of Cractus and he slowly lifted her into his arms. The captain knew what had happened and he closed the eyes of the lifeless child before joining Syrup in looking woard the lone ancient tree. There, villagers, man, woman and child had been strung out like ornaments. Hundreds of arrows and bullets were pierced through their limbs and bodies.

"Have the Gods no mercy!" exclaimed Anonster.

"We are doomed," mused Cractus.

"Quiet yourself," the Wolfenboss told Anonster and unofficially, Cractus. The pirates all moved slowly towards the haunting tree and Cractus stood without expression, holding the dead child.

"The child spoke of Catbats," said Cractus, his voice as logical as ever. "They are known from ancient times, bound by the myth and magic of the night. They are the hunters of men's souls." Some of his men looked nervously at each other. "They cannot be killed or defeated, not this darkness, not these black immortal beasts."

"Immortals?" asked Syrup. "We will put their name to the test." A little bit past the tree, Syrup moved up and found herself pausing. She watched the men stream down past her far into the narrow canyon below. The wind howls through the ancient cut in the mountains and the pirates' capes snapped like flags. The pirates had sailed from Kitchen Island for honour's sake, but it was for glory's sake that they would walk into hell's mouth.

Syrup nodded to a few passing pirates as soon as they were back on their warship, now sailing adjacent to Cractus' men. Dust swirled as the Wolfenboss and Shoot passed, Syrup shared a moment between two friends, causing the man to slap a strong hand onto the rabbit-like-boy's back. Syrup knew appreciation when the proud Wolfenboss turned to his captain with a smile. The Wolfenboss made his way through the current of soldiers to stand next to the captain, who was his friend above all.

As the pirates sailed past, the two surveyed the landscape for a moment, looking down through the cavern to the open ocean. Awabo stopped by them and pointed into the far distance. "Look!" he shouted. "Raiders!" Countless ships of Tatanga bobbed like toys on an angry sea far in the east, pulling down distant sails as if in preparation for a coming storm. Black bellies of cloud mixed with the last light of day.

"Did you know Tatanga requires no less than eight thousand slaves from different planets and timelines to move and assemble his personal compound?" Awabo asked a stunned Wolfenboss. "That the zoo of animals that accompany him consume over a hundred tons of wheat, hay and meat a day. That their alien war brothel is contained in over eighty tents and its number of concubines, goats and war boys outnumber us three to one. And that the column of carts that bears the skins and barrels of fermented barley and wine is over fifteen miles long."

"Well," said the stunned Wolfenboss after a few seconds, "at least we'll die with the stench of alien whores on us and the taste of ancient wine on our lips."

"Die perhaps…," chuckled Syrup, "or live forever."

"An optimist," chuckled the Wolfenboss.

"I can afford to be," she said, "I've got you on my side."

"You do indeed," the Wolfenboss nodded to his friend as the nearing soldiers clamored nearby. "The burden of captaincy you bear alone, but our friendship we bear together." Awabo took a few steps past Syrup to the edge of the warship, following the men who headed down to the sailboats and then turned back to his leaders.

"Come," he invited, "lets watch these motherless allosaurs as they are embraced by the loving arms of Sarasaland herself." Syrup took a look at the sky and then back to Tatanga's fleet.

"True," he nodded, "it does look like rain."