NPC chapter.
Thanks for all your reviews, friends! I treasure each and every one of them.
I try to keep a small amount of NPCs, because most are going to end up coming back. (I still haven't forgotten about Nurse and Arms Dealer lol, they managed to survive MK's violent depression)
It was like seeing the sun after a long, long night.
To bask in the kiss of brightness on her cheeks; to languish in the warmth of blessed hope. Wherefore her limbs were weighed in misery and her heart filled with heaviness, the mere presence of her beloved lord banished the shackles of her dreadful despair. Tears ran down her cheeks as the roar of fiery pillars spun upon the prison she called 'The Compound'. Tears of rapture. Tears of joy.
Yharim had come! He'd come for her!
Of course... The Party Girl should have known he hadn't really come for her. The King didn't come to personally rescue the meanest of his subjects. Such a thing was far, far beneath him - and in times past, The Party Girl wouldn't dare allow such a thing to cross her mind. However her condition was so dire, and her mind so steeped in hopelessness, she seized upon that ray of hope with everything in her, and just ran with it.
Because of all the battlefields she'd been on, in every foxhole she'd crouched in... this was by far the worst. She was thin and injured. Her equipment and her clothing reduced to scrap and filthy rags. She had been humbled - no - humiliated by her circumstances. She had played the coward, leaving those of higher rank to die at the hands of The Monster Knight...
And the only thing propping her up was her zealotry.
Her loyalty for her king.
Without it, she would have succumbed to an apathetic death long ago.
Because The Party Girl... she had nothing to fight for.
She didn't love anyone. Nobody loved her. She had no parents. She had no children. She had no brothers nor sisters and had long learned not to make comrades amongst the CC Corps, lest all her free time be spent at funerals. The Party Girl had nothing to live for except The King -
And he was here!
"M-my King!"
He was like the sun, his golden armour shining and shimmering like spun glass - mounted atop the The Great Jungle Dragon whom bathed her prison in searing flames. The Party Girl stumbled to her feet, heedless of the burn of ichor in her joints, and limped towards that radiant figure with shining eyes. She watched her King raise his blade. She felt the power of the impact through the soles of her feet and-
*Boooom*
And the sky shattered.
The Barrier was split in two.
Her prison had been destroyed.
Her King had broken her shackles.
And the flame in her chest which had nearly been smothered was lit anew. She was a proud CC Agent. She served the king of a glorious empire. It was her honor to live and die in his service, so she would serve him to her dying breath. Her job was not to be rescued by The King, but he had come to do so regardless. He did not stop as he flew away. He did not look upon her sorry state; he did not let his gaze fall upon her shame. Instead, he left.
He left so at a later time, The Party Girl might present herself victorious before him.
She... was going to bring him The Monster Knight.
She'd do it, even if it killed her.
"W-wh..."
She had no words.
After spending the past three weeks stuck in The Compound, she had convinced herself that they was alone. Nobody from the outside was coming to help. Nobody was coming to save them. They were rats in a cage, unable to break free from the bars and the shackles no matter how much they tried - and unless they could somehow destroy their captor (already a hopeless endeavor to begin with) or seek mercy from him (an impossibility) all was lost.
She was going to die here.
The Guide had abandoned her, that bastard. None of his sweet honeyed words meant a thing, because when push came to shove - he saved his own life and abandoned her to a slow death. She'd spent hours standing on that grassy knoll, staring over the writhing crimson plain as if considering if she could make it with just a sword. Of course, she couldn't... she'd never swung a sword in her life, and the monsters in the plains were vicious and teeming. Only after a much screaming at the sky and staring angrily at the place in the clouds where The Monster Knight and The Guide had disappeared, did The Stylist slowly make her way back towards The Compound - her head filled with despair.
Because she was never going see her brother again. Her stupid, little brat brother who was obsessed with all things sea-life. He liked to call himself 'The Angler', as if he'd ever fished a single minnow from the depths without Dad's help... How old should the kid be now? Eleven? Twelve? How long has it been since mom and dad died? Weeks? Months? Did he survive? What was he eating? What had happened to him? Could it be true that he he'd been swept up by The Resistance army? Was he fighting? Was he dead? Was the war still going on, or had the rebels been crushed?
All of that was swiftly banished from her thoughts when A Dragon flew overhead and started blasting The Compound with flames. The Stylist screamed and ran to hide in the brush, trembling and hoping his bright pink hair didn't give her away. There was a great noise... then silence.
And only, when the sun had already sunk low in the sky - casting its light orange, and its shadows long - did The Stylist dare creep out from her hiding spot and to approach The Compound.
And she was in awe as she passed through it's shattered doors and past the broken wall, across the torn up turf and all the scattered workstations which had always been immaculately maintained - until now. It was so strange seeing The Compound in such a state of disrepair. In some ways, it was disquieting, but the change also filled her with some sense of hope. This was her prison... and her prison had been ransacked. The Monster Knight wasn't all powerful after all!
*Crunch...chew*
Across the field The Party Girl sat beneath the open-air gondola. It's wooden roof had been punctured and charred, and the rays of sunset shone through the gaps. The fire had been stoked and ash issued forth. That odd plasticky fakeness of The Compound was gone. The stones ground against each other, chipping where they collided. Cracks formed in the wood. The platforms no longer floated, but rather all collapsed upon one another, scattering their contents into the grass.
There sat The Party Girl, zealotry burning in her head as she gorged upon cooked rabbit and healing potions. Despite that her features were fair and delicate, the expression of cruelty in the corners of her mouth and the semi-permanent sneer in her brow made her something of a terrifying beauty. The fact she was matted and muddy and overall looked more like some filthy gremlin than any sort of person added to the uncanny effect. The Stylist, eyeing the stack of cooked rabbit, carefully approached. She nearly jumped out of her skin when The Party Girl snapped her head around to look at her. Her small white teeth glinting in the firelight.
"Did you see him, did you see my glorious king?! He broke the barrier! He broke it with the strength of his mighty blade... He came to rescue me!"
"...y-yeah."
Oh heavens... she was crazy. First The Monster Knight, now The Party Girl. But she was hungry and there was no way The Party Girl was going to eat all those rabbits. The Stylist gulped hard and shuffled closer, awkwardly holding the sword in a position she though was unthreatening. After a moment, The Party Girl beckoned for her to sit, and shoved a plate at her. The CC Agent wiped flecks of meat from her lips before speaking.
"I see you got that bastard's sword... where is he, by the way? I still need to capture him."
The Stylist blinked. 'Capture him? Are you mad?!' Is what she wanted to say - but she refrained. Instead, she simply answered the question.
"H-he left with The Guide. Uh, The Second Guide. It sounds insane, but it's true. A person who looked just like him appea-"
"Yeah, yeah - his re-incarnation. I've seen it happen to The Merchant. But..."
The Party Girl seemed to be struck with an epiphany. She grinned wider.
"You know... The Old Guide messed The Bastard up pretty badly. He was crying for days, did you hear? I doubt The New Guide is much different. Maybe he'll succeed in killing The Monster Knight. They're shrewd you know, those 'Guides'... shrewd and smart and dangerous. Hey-"
The Party Girl stood from her seat. There was a sparkle in her eyes and fever in her face. When she spoke, there was something nasty in her voice.
"Help me catch him..."
The Stylist stuttered at her.
"Him?! The Monster Knight?! I-I'm weak. I can't fight him. I don't even know how to swing a sword!"
"Nonsense."
The Party Girl's face grew stern. She pointed to the center of the halfway destroyed patio.
"It's simple. When The Knight appears - and he's blind and naked and can't even crawl then, than use that sword... and carve his nose out. Okay?"
"..."
The Party Girl grinned and proferred the stack of roasted rabbit at her.
"Just cut there... and I'll take care of the rest."
"Arrr haha, where be my darling niece?! There ya are, lassie!"
It was an odd sight to watch her Uncle jovially burst into The Thieves' Guild HeadQuarters' Offce and seat himself at the head of the large desk at the end of the room. Because despite that he was the owner and head of the entire organization - he looked so out of place there, that there was more than one occasion where new employees have attempted to throw him out. The man dressed like the filthiest pirate on the seven seas, and had been often been given alms for how downright dreadful he looked. But alas - 'old habits die hard' or so he liked to claim. His choice of clothing was something The Bandit ribbed him mercilessly about, but despite her years of persistence, The Pirate Captain was an old dog who refused to change his ways.
"Uncle! You look well - if not dreadfully filthy! Have you been smoking less like you promised?"
"Lassie. Tabacco is my old friend. How could I abandon him? Hohoho!"
But with the arrival of The Bandit and her crew, no longer was The Pirate Captain the only one who looked bedraggled and out of place (it was a good thing they decided to show up in the dead of night). Frankly the whole lot of them looked like they'd been scraped from the alleyways of the poorest slums, and dumped into the middle of The Capitol's high society. The Thieves' Guild owned one of the most opulent hotels in the entire city. It was a sprawling place, full of fountains and gilded staircases and ridiculously intricate curtain dressings. Frankly, the place made her sick, but after slugging, injured, through the freezing tundra, across windy plains, and into sewer tunnels, The Bandit was more than happy to spend a few days lounging in 'The Florentino's hot baths.
"Ahh, but lassie, you look a bit worse for wear, don't ya?" The Captain called over his shoulder to the line of butlers standing against the walls. The lot of them looked like a row of penguins , and The Bandit - despite that her body was aching for rest - snickered at them.
"Somebody get my niece a chair. Somebody else take the rest of this sorry lot to the bathhouse and feed them. All of them need alibis and new papers. You bunch are so thin and filthy, you could be easily mistaken for a gaggle of scarecrows."
There was the shuffle of activity as The Bandit's crew were herded out. Most of them, The Steampunker included, stared about themselves in awe, clearly not expecting their team leader's 'Capitol Safehouse' to look quite like this. They wouldn't have, of course. The Bandit had allowed her crew to know her family (or what remained of it, anyways) had connections to the Thieves' Guild. She didn't disclose that her uncle was their leader.
*Ka-thud*
A chair was placed respectfully beside her and the polished mahogany doors were closed with a thud, locking the two of them in silence. The Pirate Captain sighed and his expression dropped into concern.
"Lassie, yer leg. What happened?"
The Bandit sat in the cushioned chair with a thud and sighed in relief. She too looked sadly upon her leg - which had been broken not long ago during the jungle expedition. Had it been left to heal fully, she suspected she would have regained full use of it, but alas - when The Resistance was attacked and all its leadership killed, everyone who wanted to live needed to flee. And The Bandit, knowing well she might be lame for the rest of her life, ran for miles and miles on her scarcely mended leg in order to preserve her life.
"Battle Scars, Uncle. I'm lucky to be alive. We were attacked by The King himself."
"..."
"Lassie, dangerous work out there. Why don't you come back and work for me? Enough with that freedom fighting. Don't follow yer daddy to the grave, darlin. Yer my only family left, you know!"
"... I'll consider it."
"Good, good. Now go get some rest. I'll send a doctor after you. I know you're able to walk, but I won't have you crutching around until your bones are re-set." The Captain pressed a button on the intercom. "I need a gurney in my office. Prepare the penthouse for my Niece."
The Bandit sighed into her chair and, for the first time in what felt like weeks, allowed herself to relax. Finally, she could sleep without keeping half an eye open. Finally, there was time to sleep and stretch, to be clean and fill herself with good food and good wine. The Bandit always appreciated her uncle, but she wasn't sure if she had ever appreciated him quite so much - for despite his rough demeanor and tremendous rap sheet, he really was quite good to those he considered 'his own'.
So when The Bandit caught sight of... Faze's Wanted' Poster atop The Pirate Captain's desk, besides the plans for a sortie of flying ships towards The Crimson Border, she immediately spoke up.
"Uncle! Why do you have this?!" She snatched it up from his desk to scrutinize it. Although the sketch wasn't perfect, it was very clearly depicting the visage of The Resistance Terrarian. Heavens, it's been quite a while since The Bandit had last seen him, but despite his common face, his features really were quite peculiar. There weren't many men who had snow white hair like his, nor looked about with dragons eyes that glowed like hot coals. Along the bottom of the wanted poster, printed in large bolded text, a bounty which included so many zeros The Bandit got lost halfway through the number. She turned towards The Pirate Captain, a worried expression painting her face. Her voice was strangled.
"Uncle, What... what have you done? Tell me you haven't begun a search for this man. He's extremely dangerous. You cannot have him as an enemy."
The Pirate Captain waved her back into her seat, clearly worried about her leg.
"Lassie, sit, sit, don't you worry yerself. I already called off the search. We had a run in with his brother just a few hours ago, and I lost thirty of my best men. Don't wanna give that nutcase a reason to come after us. Besides, he even paid for us to leave him alone. A hundred pounds of gold, rubies, emeralds, diamonds. I watched him spill riches into the blood of my soldiers."
"Brother?!"
The Bandit furrowed her brow. As far as she was aware, Faze did not have any siblings. He was a Terrarian, and it was well known that Terrarians weren't born like the rest of this land's creatures. They were singular and they were unique, an immortal apex predator that disappeared as mysteriously as he appeared. Who was this person who her uncle had mistaken for Faze's brother? Had Yharim managed to clone The Resistance Hero?
"Uncle, do you happen have a photograph of him? The Brother, I mean. I would like to see it, if you don't mind."
*What Splendid news! Forgive my excitement, but we had become terribly afraid you'd been killed by one of the student's pranks! The school board has filed manslaughter charges upon all the usual suspects, and I venture to say it's scared them all so badly, once you return you'll never need to fear another prank again. CAU simply cannot have their professors disappearing willy-nilly like that, yes?*
"... Madame Admin, please don't tell anyone yet. I'm still in danger. Something of a stalker... a curse, is attached to me and I don't have the firepower to dislodge it."
*A Curse?! Guide, darling, perhaps you forget who your employer is. Your coworkers are amongst the most powerful magic users in the land. We are at your disposal, although I trust you already have a plan in place. And - ah - you did managed to distance yourself from your haunt for the time being, yes? Before contacting me, I mean?*
"Naturally, although it is only temporary."
*Then how can I help you?*
"Please procure for me a key to The Artificial Jungle Temple. I understand it has been locked up quite securely ever since The Golem's Altar was moved there for storage and experimentation, but I have something very powerful that needs killing. I understand The Headmaster wishes to test The Golem's battle prowess in that contained environment anyways - so please."
*The Golem?... If it breaks out, The Headmaster will have my head on a pike. You know it ransacked the city in the past, yes?*
"Madame Admin, I opened this communications line with the highest encryption. This conversation cannot be recorded, and it cannot be deciphered, even by the Capitol's greatest codebreakers. I am not asking you to give me a key... I am simply asking that you presently have one in your possession."
*Ah, Guide... you sly dog, you!*
"Madame? Will you do it?"
*Darling, I happen to keep my most treasured possessions in my office safe. It's behind the bookcase to the left. If you want in, you'll have to break in. Is that enough for you?*
"It is, Thank you Madame. I am in your debt."
Stylist: I'm really upset The Guide just got up and left me! How dare he betray me like that!
MK: *surprised Pikachu face* Wow I can't believe it!
Have a wonderful easter holiday.
PG wants Stylist to do the dirty work and cut his face up, so MK won't smell her when she cuts the rest of him up and shoves him in tiny shoeboxes.