Sorry for another late chapter guys haha, I was busy drawing album art for a music mod! I'm done now, so back to 100% with this.

These guys have been buddying up long enough. time to cause drama.

Rewritten 02/05

Armour: Victide (Ranger)

Weapon: Mandible Bow (Jester Arrows); Arkhalis

Acc(11/11): Band of Regeneration, Amidas Spark, Sailfish Boots, Luxor's Gift, Ocean Crest, Amidas Pendant, Crown Jewel, Tsunami in a Bottle, Frog Leg, Aero Stone, Shield of the Ocean

Health: (390/400)

A long, tiresome dream. Not nightmarish, but not vivid. Unseen wispy shadows slowly moved over his mind's eye like clouds floating over a sleeping ocean. He watched the silhouettes pass through thick mist, yet no matter how long he pondered - he couldn't identify them.

*ching… thud*

That was his whole world, this sorrow fueled hibernation. He had long abandoned his body to the deepest of sleeps, scarcely breathing as he lay in the depths of his deserted kingdom. He didn't regret it. There was nothing more for him to live for and he was too cowardly to kill himself. All he could do was languish and watch helplessly as his world collapsed beneath the weight of the misery he'd brought. Eventually, he consigned himself to sleep... it made the heartache less poignant - if just a bit. An intoxicating fog filled trance writhed and rolled within him, urging him to sink into the deep silence, tempting him to forget and dissolve into nothingness.

*ching… thunk*

("Slayer, careful.")

But… he couldn't forget. He couldn't die. Even as he lay there, limp, prone, defeated and ashamed, he couldn't let go of his failure. The spear of guilt rent his heart, pinning him to this mortal realm and demanding he suffer for the anguish he'd brought to his subjects. What right had he to float into peace-filled death? To fade into the unfeeling vacuum of nothingness? None whatsoever. For his pride, his subjects had been desolated. His children, the flesh of his flesh, clung to him as they boiled alive in the very waters they once frolicked in. There was no forgiveness to seek. There was no absolution available to him - save the Death of the Tyrant.

*ching… thud*

("I -glub- I think it's dead… try and open it.")

But… it was a pipe dream. He was a defeated king, trapped in his own desolated palace by the rage of his deceased subjects. The Great Sea Worm, now a husk filled with death and hunger, patrolled the lands above, consuming all that fell across its path. The Cnidarians - his people - had morphed into deathly, unthinking monstrosities that lifelessly roamed the desert caverns above. The Sunken Sea became eutrophic - it's rich waters becoming shallow and anemic until all who lived there slowly wasted away for lack of oxygen. There was nothing left for him. No peace; he was bereft of everything. No revenge for lack of strength. No absolution; the dead could no longer forgive. Nothing.

*thunk… thud*

("...why")

("Wh -glub- why not? just do it.")

And so, he remained here, languishing in this silent, murky purgatory. A world where nothing stirred. Where only the most base of his subjects survived: glowing coral, tiny crustaceans, rays and mollusks. A prison whose shackles were composed of overflowing rage and guilt. If only there was hope for him… if only there was a weapon with which he could strike down The Tyrant. Only then could he find his peac-

*CRACK*

Something… something was moving. Had something invaded the Sunken Sea? Impossible. Nothing could battle off the Desert Worm, nor crack the shell of the Giant Clam in which he had taken refuge. Yet… how long had it been since his dreams were so vivid? How long had it been since he heard a sound so clear and startling? Temporarily disturbed from his trance-like state, the Sea King opened his eyes for the first time in decade.

*Creeeeak*

The light - although dim - was blinding to his unadjusted eyes. The sounds, likewise booming in his ears. He lay there, muscles still paralyzed from his long sleep, on the fleshy tongue of the Giant Clam - watching as the gates of his self-imposed confinement were pried apart. Who could it be? Had somebody finally come to kill him? Perhaps a survivor of the great calamity that befell his ocean had come to take revenge? At the very least, he could pay for his sins with his death… if only…

Two shadowy blobs appeared in his sight. A voice emitted from one of them, his voice overlaying the noise of deep water.

"Guide… a seahorse."

Another voice responded, it sputtered even as it spoke - as if unused to breathing underwater.

"Slayer put your -glub- weapon down, that's Amidas, The Sea King!"

'You've awakened me for this purpose, young man?'

He could hardly hear The Sea King's voice through the dreadful ice packing his brain. He didn't expect the Sunken Sea to be so miserably cold when he first plunged beneath the waters. After all, the dusty desert caverns above were all blisteringly hot. The change in temperature was as drastic as it was shocking. By the time he found his bearings - clinging to a sharp bit of coral protruding from the glowing rock - The Terrarian had already finished butchering the largest mollusk The Guide had ever seen.

He's lucky he didn't just fall apart after getting squashed... I'm amazed he's in once piece. The Nurse is going to have fun with him once we get home...

The Guide huffed, choked on the icy water filling his lungs, and emitted a strangled and barely understandable response. If he thought he was miserable in the desert caves, then hell he didn't know how far he could fall. In the past, He and his friends had once waterboarded each other for sport. It was such a dreadful experience none of them ever brought up the topic again. He was now reliving those awful memories for the past thirty minutes, willingly and in the most visceral way possible. The fact he now possessed a set of makeshift gills (courtesy of a Gills Potion The Terrarian had produced) was of little consolation to him, as his land-based lungs still instinctively strained to retain whatever air they could. The resulting sensation was drowning... and it only got worse when he tried to speak.

"Yes your majesty -glub- The Crimson is once again spreading. It has killed everyone in my village except for myself."

The Guide grimaced through every word. He knew he sounded awful. He also (probably) looked awful, and was jealous for The Terrarian's cracked but sufficiently concealing armour. What was he thinking when he came down here? He had naively assumed the Sunken Kingdom was spared the desolation of the Desert Ocean above - and thought he could purchase some decent dress before seeking audience with The King. Unfortunately, there wasn't a single intelligent being in sight (save for the three of them) and certainly no shopkeepers. It was common knowledge that one didn't approach a monarch dressed like a beggar, even if said monarch had fallen from grace. It was already a miracle that Amidas was even entertaining their presence.

Pull yourself together. Don't screw this up!

His eyes stung with salt as he stared deeply into the floor. He was kneeling to the best of his ability, yet found his body annoyingly buoyant in the chilly brine. He needed to dig his knuckles into the rough cracks on the floor to keep himself grounded and thereby show any semblance of respect. The fact he was the only one of the three who seemed to suffer the effects of basic physics grated on his nerves. He took a deep, choking breath before he collected himself and continued. Even so, his voice sounded tinny and strangled underwater.

"I am seeking a method to halt The Crimson's progression across the land and free the souls of my loved ones. I wish to defeat The Crimson. If you know a way, -glub- I beg you, for the sake of those slain, please share your knowledge with me."

The Guide didn't dare raise his eyes. He could feel the The Sea King's cold gaze resting upon him as his request was pondered. Not twenty minutes ago, the two of them had cracked open the shell of the Giant Clam to search for pearls. Yet instead of treasure, they had found somebody more valuable than any amount of riches: The Sunken Sea's ruler - a being of legend who, according to the documents on his burial chamber, was well informed about The Lunar God and his derivatives. If The Guide could somehow ally himself with this fallen King, and thereby make his knowledge his own, then surely he had a real shot at halting The Crimson.

C'mon... please... just tell me...

As the silence persisted, the low, unfriendly drone of the deep waters seemed to fill the throne room. The glowing crystals hummed and pulsed with gentle teal light. Beautifully. Imperceptibly. The water was very cold, but very clear. Clean, peaceful, empty, dead. It was a graveyard. A prison. There was hardly a speck of green in sight. Coral - normally a cacophony of vibrant reds, yellows and blues, had been all but bleached by the underwater isolation. Their colours muted into dull grays and whites. Small creatures clung languidly to the rocks, but even they were few and far between. Tiny snails. Flat Rays. Blind, white eels. Silent, rock-like clams, the chief of which lay smashed to pieces in the deepest parts of the Sunken Sea.

"Hm...The Crimson?"

The King's voice boomed over them, startling The Guide. It was of impossibly deep pitch and seemed to crackle through the water unlike anything The Guide had ever heard before. The King studied them from atop his throne. His demeanor wasn't suspicious, but not relaxed either. He appeared aloof and calm, but also careful, guarding and wise. Although they belonged to an entirely different species, The Guide cold somehow tell what sort of image The Sea King was channeling. Obviously, he was well versed in dealing with land-dwellers, and had long matched his mannerisms to make himself understandable to those in the above-ground kingdoms.

Lots of experience...Surely he's very old...

The Guide raised his eyes to steal a glance at the ancient King. Despite his terrifically advanced age, Amidas looked as strong, vibrant, and healthy as one might expect a mer-person to look. He wasn't wearing the typical decor of royalty (these items were very likely being stored beneath The Terrarian's sleeves this very moment - as they had looted the burial chamber not long beforehand), but his mannerisms and speech made it very clear he was high-born and used to wielding power. He was of interesting physiology, with scaly blue skin and vibrant teal frills. The Terrarian had called him a seahorse at outset, but he looked much more like a small, ornate dragon than anything else. His voice matched his intimidating appearence.

"You refer to the parasitic remains of The Dreaming God." The Guide nodded an affirmative. "What of the Dryad enchantment?"

The Dryad Enchantment?

The Guide didn't have a chance to ponder on that. For a hundred years, The Dryad Enchantment had kept The Crimson at bay. How the magic worked? Nobody knew. They were just thankful it did. But now, suddenly, The Crimson was once again on the move, which logically meant the Dryad Enchantment had come undone. This event happened to coincide with the Vulture-headed mage's attack and the summoning of The Terrarian to this world... was it all connected? Perhaps. But it's all theories at this point.

"The Enchantment. It has -glub- come undone, your majesty."

"How?"

"I'm not sure, your majesty. Perhaps you might know."

"Hm…"

Amidas tapped the armrest of his ornately carved throne with a wicked claw. The sharp noise rang out around the old, derelict throne room. Even in such a state, one could imagine the former riches the Sea Kingdom enjoyed, and what sort of calamity befell them. The floor - at one time seamless and polished - was now caved and strewn with great cracks as if the entire structure had fallen from some terrible height. All manner of strange fauna had crept into the foyer over eons of disuse. Dull coral stretched spiny fingers into the open water. Dark coloured kelp waved gently in the currents. All about them, strange glowing crystals pulsed silently, illuminating the beauty - but also desolation - of the Sunken Sea.

Should I have brought a gift or something? I knew the Sunken Sea would be different then the modern kingdoms... but to think it'd be this strange...

The Guide raised his eyes to steal a glance at the dragon-man. He really was a king, there was no question about that… but where were his subjects? Why was his castle in such an awful condition? The Guide had an abundance of questions, but he knew his probings would tire the monarch. If he could just get information pertinent to defeating The Crimson - he would be more than satisfied. After all, he did have a foggy idea of what the Great Witch had done to this kingdom. It was likely best not to bring it up.

The Guide's thoughts were interrupted.

"Unfortunate. The Dryads had assured me their spell would hold. To imagine someone would break it."

The Sea King sighed to himself. After a moment he raised his eyes to look past The Guide. When he spoke again, there was a hint of scorn tainting his voice.

"Guide, you have have greeted me graciously - and for that, I may be willing to help you... but what of your companion? Will he expect goodwill from a King without showing fealty? Introduce yourself, Traveller."

"..."

Oh no...

A thrill of panic scurried down his back as he jerked his head out of its bow and twisted to glare at his companion. To his horror (but not to his surprise) he found The Terrarian, standing and staring straight at The King without even the slightest hint of respect in his posture. In fact, had his sword been drawn, he'd look ready for battle. There was no way the Sea King would give them anything if The Slayer was behaving himself so impudently. The Guide hissed with as much venom as he could muster, his voice coming out strangled as it distorted with the currents.

"Slayer! What the heck are you doing?! Kneel!"

"..."

The Terrarian's voice overlay the background noise. It came out snipped, clear, unfriendly and not at all reverent. He stared at The Sea King as he spoke, matching the dragon-man's scorn with his own. He was standing steadfastly on the cracked flooring, unaffected by water's weightlessness, and turned very slightly into a battle stance - as if expecting to defend the two of them from a hostile attack. Clearly he didn't know what was going on, and decided the best course of action was to behave cynically.

"I don't know this king."

"I don't care if you know him or not! You barely know anyone! Don't screw this up for me. Get on your knees!"

The Terrarian turned to look at him. He could almost imagine the almost-man's brow furrowing beneath his helmet.

"I won't kneel. Not for anyone. He," A blade appeared in The Terrarian's hand as he pointed at The King, "came from The Giant Clam."

"..."

"..."

Stunned silence filled the room. The Sea King was watching them both from atop his throne, not looking the least bit threatened by The Terrarian's token hostility. Still, it was quite obvious he did not appreciate being threatened in his own throne room. The Guide watched the fiasco take place with a blooming, fiery anger so hot - it nearly drove the cold straight out of his veins.

This moron!

Great. Fantastic. Not only had The Guide invaded The Ocean King's palace and dressed like a beggar whilst killed most of his clam-guards. He had also come to audaciously beg favor - offering nothing in return. Right now, The Guide was relying solely on the King's goodwill to obtain direction to free his loved ones from an eternal hell - and here was The Slayer pointing his sword at the only hope The Guide still had. He was understandably irate.

I'm gonna kill him!

The Guide felt The Sea King's judging gaze burning upon him as he let go of the floor and launched himself at The Terrarian with an agility he didn't know he possessed. It'd been quite a while since the two of them engaged in any violent physical interactions, as such, The Terrarian was wholly unprepared to have his feet knocked from beneath him. The Guide seized his companion by the shoulder and - with strength borne of panic and shame - aimed two swift kicks at the back of his knees, forcibly driving The Terrarian to the floor. The roughhousing tore out several of the makeshift stitches in The Terrarian's back, and a small cloud of deep red briefly surrounded the two of them before it dissipated into the depths. The Guide was too angry to pay attention to the physical damage he was doing, and snarled at his stunned companion.

"Stay down and don't embarrass me any further…" He offered The Sea King a bland smile. "I apologize, your Majesty. He -glub- doesn't know how to show respect. Please don't mind him. My Slayer is simply misbehaving."

The Terrarian was clearly shocked by this turn of events and began to raise complaint - a complaint The Guide swiftly and viciously silenced with another wrench to his helmet.

"Guide, you-huk!"

"Shut it. I'll deal with you later!"

"..."

"..."

The Guide offered Amidas another strained smile through the long awkward silence. He had The Terrarian by one of the horns of his helmet and was holding his head down in an unwilling kowtow. He noticed his companion was trembling beneath his grip, but paid it no mind, simply chalking it up to the cold or something equally asinine. All The Guide was concerned about in this moment was keeping up appearances… something he would come to sorely regret in the near future.

The King observed them quietly for another long moment before he spoke again.

"Your Slayer. Is that right?"

"Yes, your Majesty."

"Did you have him slay the Desert Worm?"

"Yes, your Majesty."

"...hm."

The Sea King snorted a trail of bubbles from his nostrils and nodded approvingly. In hindsight, The Guide would realize in this moment, The Sea King was evaluating the power dynamics between himself and The Terrarian - and the impression of today's display would be one The Terrarian would come to bitterly despise.

"Then, Guide… perhaps We can benefit each other. Let us talk business."

Amidas: You killed -all- my clams?

Guide: I'm... very sorry, your Majesty. We didn't know they were your guards. Please forgive us.

A: It's fine. They're not guards. I just like to eat fresh clams.

G:... ah.

Ohhh boii so a lot of stuff in this chap. 1) Amidas is even more motivated towards revenge than Guide is. However, Wheras Guide's vitriol is directed toward Lunatic Cultist (working with Resistance) Amidas wnat to go after King Yharim and Calamitas (who are opposed to resistance, obv) 2) Amidas is super old. he was around when the dryads first sealed the crimson. 3) Guide simping for His Majesty, Amidas. 4) Slayer is gon be pretty mad about this. but honestly, what would you do? nobody actually did anythign wrong lol. 5) S: I'm not kneeling G: let's see what these two hands have to say about that. S: T-T 6) note: 'The Terrarian' is used in the same way one may say 'The Man'. It's also Sort of a name? but since Guide doesn't want to advertise what T is, he always says 'Slayer'. T doesn't actually care. He has never introduced himself to anyone, and pretty much let The Guide name him. 7) I think I've used 'empathetically' instead of 'emphatically' in a few instances. sorry haha, my english trash.

Oof, kk. leave me your thoughts.

Also, I totally want you to tell me how you think the slayer looks. Once I get the Clothier I can get him into the vanity armour I have in my playthrough... but it may not be nescessary. let me know if I should even have a set look for him going forward, or do you guys prefer to envision the char on your own. All my love :)

Also leave me a note! :heart: