Gah!  I had posted this on Saturday!  But it AGAIN was saved as a draft instead of being published!  -_-  Bother, bother, bother...  I'll be posting on THursday this week to make up for that...

Pts!  Warbaron: 13, Bessie Lark: 3, Elspeth: 1

Part LXXXVI: Moving On

Date: Kornun 20th, 114 A.U.

The sun’s breaking rays had just begun to peak over the mountains as the foursome entered the long-abandoned quarry, looking for any trace of Zarien.  Astrid glanced back at the forest behind them, back where they had hidden the airship, Hagion standing guard, before looking back ahead into the quarry.  Monty began signaling Zarien with his walkie-talkie as he moved in, ducking into a side-cleft of the quarry as Flek, Number 994, and Astrid followed him in, making sure that no one could see them (not that anyone was supposed to be in the deserted quarry) as Monty continued to try to signal him. 


“He’s not responding,” Monty said.  “He might have broken his walkie-talkie in his escape.  Spread out and see where he’s hiding.”  The foursome split up, nervously looking around as they combed the relatively-small quarry, but an hour later when they had all come back, Zarien was still nowhere to be found.

“We have tracked the signal of their radios to one of the quarries we had been working at decades ago,” the orc said.  “I’ve pinpointed it here on the map.”

“I see,” Number 1,314 said, gazing at the spot on the map before looking up.   Take a well-armed force of elves and orcs and capture these intruders who worked with the elf.  Take them alive if need be, but if they put up too much of a force…

“…Don’t be afraid to kill them.”

“We have to assume the worst,” Monty said.  “If he didn’t get here, then he must have been captured.”

"He said that he’d be able to get back easily, though,” Flek protested.  “Maybe if we gave him just a little more time." 

“No,” Monty said.  “I’ve worked in enough secret missions and operations to know that we can’t just assume that.  If Zarien had escaped he would have made it here easily, and if not he would have used his walkie-talkie.  Most likely he made some mistake and was captured, and got his walkie-talkie taken from him, which means…”

Monty jumped up from the rock that he had been sitting on.  “We have to go.  If they’re anything more than complete fools, they would have received our messages and will be sending out a force to capture us.  We have to vacate the area immediately.”

“But what about Zarien?” Number 994 asked, running behind them.  Forasmuch as he was still unsure what he should think about helping a team dedicated to taking out the Empire, and as much as he blamed Zarien for getting him into this muddle, he still seemed to have a curious bonding to him, an explainable sort of friendship with the elf.

Rule Number 23: Never let yourself be friends with anyone, especially the enemy

But Number 994 wasn’t sure if the rules worked in this situation.  Not that he’d been trying to keep them as of late.  He had broken so many since joining them, there wasn’t any hope of becoming a normal orc again among the ranks of the orcs of the Mothership.

“There are some planes heading this way,” Flek said, gesturing to some planes flying up from the city in the distance.  “We have to find cover.  Now.”

"The forest is up ahead once we climb out of this quarry!” Astrid said.  “We have to get there in time.”

“Move quickly,” Monty said.  “Use the ziplines to get up the quarry!”  Using the ziplines, they moved up out of the quarry and began racing toward the trees, racing for cover as the airship came up behind them, firing as they drew closer.  Trees rushed by them, gunshots firing behind them.  Number 994 looked back to see two of the planes trailing behind, but one having already made it to the forest—and a large group of fighting elves and orcs ziplining down from the ship.  Their escape hadn’t worked according to plan; Number 994 didn’t think they could outrun them and make it to their ship and get it into the air before they were shot down.

“Behind us!” Number 994 yelled, and he ducked behind a tree, preparing his lightning.  There shouldn’t be any orcs in the group that were higher than him in lightning; Emperor Jaigran tended to pick out the best of the orcs to serve on the Mothership.  Getting a group of orcs down might be a little more tricky, especially given that Number 994 was much more skilled in using electronical equipment than fighting with lightning, but he still thought he had the advantage with the other companions.  The other members of the Xavier Team moved behind trees as Flek scurried up one, disappearing into the foliage, as the group of enemy combatants moved forward.

Number 994 leapt out, sending crackling lightning among their ranks as they dove for cover.  Flek dropped down from above, slicing through the surprised guards with his corsha blades as Monty and Astrid fired their guns.  The lightning orcs turned towards Flek as Number 994 desperately tried to counter their lightning powers to keep them from overwhelming Flek.  One of them was shot down by Monty, another killed by Flek.  Number 994 brought down two others, leaving five elves, surprised that their elite force had been cut down so quickly by these strangers.  Two of them were instantly shot down.  And then Number 994 stunned another as Flek brought down the remaining elves.

“I just stunned this one,” Number 994 said, running over.  “We can get info out of him.”

Flek lightly kicked the elf, who groaned in response.  Number 994 pulled him up, giving a light shock of electricity to get the elf up and moving, staring at the four people that now surrounded him. 

“What do you want?” he spat.

“Just some information and we’ll let you live, by my word of honor,” Number 994 said, making a halo of lightning around his head to try to frighten him into giving information.  “We were caught by trying to communicate with an elven rebel named Zarien.  What do you know of him and where is he?”

The elf stared at them, conflicted between telling and keeping his mouth shut for a few moments before he spoke.  “He-he’s gone!” he blurted out. “Number 1,314 sent him off to the Emperor for questioning!  He left last night—he’s gone and I had nothing to do with it!”

“He looks like he’s telling the truth,” Monty muttered.

“Then that’s all we need,” Number 994 said.  And he stunned the elf again, who slipped into unconsciousness as Number 994 stood back up.

"He’ll live,” Number 994 said.  “When he comes to his senses at least.  And now we need to go.”

“What about Zarien?” Astrid asked.

“We need to track down the Mothership,” Monty said.  “It’s time anyways to be leaving to meet up with the others at the meeting point.  Once we meet up with the rest of the team we’ll try to figure out where the Mothership is…  and how we can rescue Zarien.”

Question of the Day: How will Zarien re-unite with the rest of the Xavier Team?

Pts!  Warbaron: 1o, Bessie Lark: 3, Elspeth: 1

In other words: Warbaron continues to dominate.

Part LXXXV: The Birthplace of the Mothership

Date: Kornun 25th, 114 A.U.

Jroldin stepped out of the tent, letting the flap shut behind him.  They had gotten to the valley that the Mothership had been built in late last night and so hadn’t bothered to look at any of it until the next morning.  The place had been deserted for over a century, but no one had bothered to clean up.  Tools were somewhat scattered around, and a lot of the scaffolding was still around.  Jroldin could see the built-out depression where the Mothership had once rested, small towers surrounding the depression where workers had once used the towers to enter into the Mothership.  A century of decay had done its work though, and the place was in a bad need of repair.  Jroldin went over and sat on the edge of the small cliff that formed part of the depression of where the Mothership once rested and started eating the apple he had brought with him from the tent.

A couple minutes later, Brother Tomas joined him, bundling his robe around him as he sat and cast his gaze around the area.  “Well,” he finally said.  “This is it.”

“Yep.”  Jroldin said.  “The birthplace of the very bad.  Maybe we can use it to make a Mothership for us.”

“Probably not,” Brother Tomas reminded him.  “Remember—the elves’ radar would pick up something that bit.”

  “True…” Jroldin said, sighing.  “Oh well…”

"Besides,” Brother Tomas reminded him. “That’s not the way that the Xavier Team is supposed to overwhelm the evil.”

“Right…” Jroldin said.  “But how are we supposed to overwhelm Jaigran?”

“I’ve been doing research on it as much as I can out here, since I brought a lot of books with me,” Brother Tomas said.  “Though I did have to leave a lot of them back north at the volcano that we found Augger since we had to hitchhike over a lot of the mountains after the machine broke down.  But I’ve arrived at certain conclusions.  Not the least of which is that you play an important role.”

“Me?”

“Yes, Jroldin.  From what I could glean from what we still have of Xavier’s prophecies and other such works, the Priest-King plays an important role in the party.  But it appears that most of it has to deal with the aftermath.  The Priest-King seems less important for the Xavier Team to defeat the great evil, but seems to be an integral part of establishing peace once the evil is vanquished. Once Jaigran is defeated, the prophesy would indicate that you will be essential to recreating peace and order once his reign is ended.”

"So what does that have to do with how we defeat him?”

“I don’t think that the prophesies indicate that the cause will be won as a part of some massive battle, Jroldin,” Brother Tomas said. “In other words, although it may happen that way, I think it will involve figuring out exactly how Jaigran plans to bring a greater cataclysm on the world—which the prophecies indicate will happen—and then stopping him in some sort of final showdown.  Our battle won’t be won by the strength of our forces, but by the Great One working through the Xavier Team to accomplish his purposes.”

“I see…” Jroldin said, still not fully believing in the Great One, as heard a voice calling them from behind.  “Well, it appears that it’s time to break up camp.”

“Yes,” Brother Tomas said. “It’s time to explore the birthplace of the Mothership.”

“And this is the central planning building,” a Sla’ad whose name Jroldin didn’t think was even possible to pronounce was saying.  He was standing in front of a very large tower that Jroldin gawked at.

“That building was all for planning?”

“Yes.  From the records it seems to have been the building in charge of this whole operation.  A lot of planning meetings and blueprints being drawn up here to direct the Mothership’s growth,” the Sla’ad said.  “We got most of our maps and blueprints from this place.”

“And they just left a lot of the blueprints out?” Reynyagn asked, incredulously.

“The then-General Jaigran didn’t have much time to waste,” the Sla’ad said.  “From the reports we picked up, the Mothership was behind schedule—as would be expected for an engineering feat like this—and Jaigran didn’t have time to wait to cleanup before he wrought the Great Upheaval.  And once their swift-striking elven fleet had desolated a lot of the world, they didn’t see much point in cleaning up much of their paperwork, having already taken control of basically all the world.  Some of the blueprints were taken as reference to make the floating cities, but the others no one bothered to clean up, leaving a treasure trove for us.”

“I can imagine…” Augger remarked.  “It always is striking how throughout the course of history, people are so easy to assume victory before it is finally wrought.  And how their missed facts always seem to backfire in the end, however long it may take.”

“And it looks like it took us a century, but we still managed it,” Brother Tomas said.  “Many thanks to the Sla’ad here.”

  "Anyways,” the Sla’ad said.  “There’s a large blueprint on the wall you may be interested to see to give you a picture of the massiveness of the Mothership.  It was attached to the wall, so we couldn’t remove it, but we took multiple photographs of it.”

Jroldin stared at the large Mothership blueprint that spanned the wall, a preliminary blueprint that showed some of the most important features of the Mothership.  Five miles long and two miles wide, the Mothership was sketched against the backdrop of one of the elven cities, showing the mind-blowing largeness of the Mothership.  The control room of the Mothership was huge—nearly the size of a building for all the variables in it.  There were massive dorms sketched for the Mothership, along with what looked like to be a giant extendable sword that lowered from the Mothership, but Jroldin wasn’t quite sure if it really was a giant sword.

“This was only a preliminary sketch of the most important features to include,” the Sla’ad was saying.  “So it is by no means an accurate sketch, but it shows a lot of the most important features of the ship.”  There were huge blasters the size of buildings sketched on the ship, along with the resources needed to stock what seemed to be a small city’s size of inhabitants.  And as Jroldin stepped back before the sketch depicting the Mothership in its full majesty ,there was only one thought in his mind.

How are we supposed to stop this thing?

Question of the Day: Well--how are they?  How are they supposed to stop this thing?

Pts!  Warbaron: 7, Bessie Lark: 3, Elspeth: 1

Part LXXXIV: Warning Shots

Date: Kornun 30th, 114 A.U.

"Ah, former Governor Astrid.”  The man whirled around lazily on the chair where he slouched against it, flicking his fingers against the armrest.  “How good it is to see you again.”

“Same to you,” Astrid said coldly, sitting down at a chair opposite him as she flipped open her briefcase, filing through the various papers neatly organized inside.  “Good to know someone is having a relaxing time.”

Iraina laughed, taking off his sunglasses as he looked at Astrid, letting his sunglasses balance on his fingertips.  “And I see that someone still has not given up the feud of the election.  Isn’t that supposed to be over now?  Bi-partisanship and working together to get the job done?”

“Well, when you define bi-partisanship as making sure that your way is the only possible way, I guess so,” Astrid said, pursing her lips, pulling out a stack of papers.  “Here’s my report.”

Iraina took the stapled stack of papers and began to look through them.  “Unless I’m mistaken, we’re really not that different in that area, me and you,” he drawled.  “I mean, from what I heard, you had to do a whole lot of wrangling to get yourself as the official spokesman of the Xavier Team before I took office.  Suureee, that was a really bi-partisan, nice thing to do for the new governor.”

“Yes—well—it was my duty,” Astrid snapped, trying to keep herself from blowing up again at Governor Iraina.

“Yes, and silencing any real attempts of bi-partisanship before it could begin by forcing our competing principles to continue to clash with each other.” Iraina lowered the stack of papers to gaze directly into Astrid’s eyes.  “I believe I got as much of a referendum as we could get that last election.  The voters wanted a change of leadership—new blood to start flowing in the government—a change that you’re not accepting.”

Astrid bristled at Iraina’s attack, wondering why the debate between them had switched between matters of policy to matters of fairness.  “I had started a task with the Xavier Team,” she repeated, almost as if she was still reiterating her talking points of the election.  “And I mean to see it finished.”

“The voters didn’t want you to finish it,” Iraina whispered.  “They wanted me to take control of it, an effort that you are confounding with your refusal to share your duties with anyone else.”

“Yes, well, I think my experience in war is much better than yours,” Astrid said, reassuring herself of her extensive experience working against the elves.

“Oh, we’re not going to go there again,” Iraina said.  Holding up the stack of stapled papers, he moved his arm to the side and dropped them on the floor, listening to the papers flutter and crash against the carpet.  “If you’re not willing to come to a compromise about this issue, this will mean extreme measures.  And I don’t want to go there.”

“Then don’t,” Astrid said.  “You can begin by reading my report on the current progress of the Xavier Team and trying to work with me about how we can guide them to their goal of destroying the Emperor.”

“Oh, so I get to work with you now!” Iraina said.  “So perhaps that means you can give me the means to contact and receive messages from the Xavier Team.  Maybe I can actually put some of my own foreign policy into play!”

“The Senate gave me that job,” Astrid said.  “I can’t just give it to anyone else.”

“Oh yes, the Senate,” Iraina said smoothly.  “The Senate you forced to follow you.  Now I’m looking at the facts, Astrid.  And I’m seeing a different set-up in Senate than when you were governor.  And any act that Senate passes can be revoked.”

A flash of heat went through Astrid.  “What do you mean?”

“I think you know what I mean,” Iraina said, his voice hardening as he lowered his voice again into a whisper.  “Either work—truly work—with me, Astrid.  Let me actually have the ability to get what I want passed, as the voters put me in office to accomplish, or I’ll go public with this.”

“You can’t go public with military affairs!” Astrid snapped.  “There’s a reason these meetings have been behind closed doors.  The next thing you’ll be suggesting is to make all of our espionage efforts public information!”

“I’m not going to share the nitty-gritty details,” Iraina retorted.  “But I will tell them how you refuse to work with me in any meaningful way or to accept my advice.  I’ll bring a proposal to Senate to revoke your status as the Spokesman of the Xavier Team.  And I’ll get the public behind me to make the senators all vote to put me back in control of foreign policy, like you were as Governor.  Isn’t that the Golden Rule?  Do unto others as you would have them do to you?  Something tells me that if you won, you wouldn’t want me butting in your way by being the Spokesman for the Xavier Team and forcing my foreign policy beliefs down your throat.”

“It isn’t like that!” Astrid protested.

“Then work with me and give me access to the Xavier Team!” Iraina demanded.  “Look at my proposal to give more direct orders and suggestions to the Xavier Team and to be in a more constant flow of communication with them.  At least be willing to compromise.  Or else we’re going to have to take this to a further authority to get this settled once and for all.  You already received your referendum on your policies.  Now give up your power.”

“I can’t let you ruin the Xavier Team,” Astrid whispered, her eyes flashing.

“I see.”  Iraina’s eyes narrowed.  “Then you have drawn the battle lines, Astrid.  I have no other solution.  It’s time to take this to the higher authorities.”

Question of the Week: How will Astrid stop Iraina's plan?

Part LXXXIII: Going Rogue

Date: Kornun 20th, 114 A.U.

The two guards were taken out before they even knew what was happening.  The two elves had just walked by when suddenly they had turned on them, one slamming the other hard against the corridor wall, while the other punched him in the solar plexus.  Another hard bang to the head and they both were out.  Hazael quickly fished the keys out of the one man’s pocket and opened the lock.  Sereth ran in, flicking on the lights, as they came to Zarien’s limp body, tied to the chair.

“Quickly.  Not much time have we.” Hazael said.  Sereth quickly fished out her knife and quickly broke Zarien’s bonds, ripping his gag and blindfold off of him.

“He’ll still be unconscious for several hours at least,” Hazael said.  “I’ll take him.”  Lifting him up, Hazael slung Zarien over his shoulder and the two of them dashed out of the room, quickly shutting the door behind him.  Feet tapping down the corridor, they moved down some steps into the small dark room where the escape pod was.  Hazael quickly dumped Zarien in the escape pod next to the sleeping Cortna.

“Get them both buckled into their seats,” Hazael said.  “I’ll get us out.”  They had slipped Cortna some sleeping pills so that she wouldn’t know what was happening.  Her knowing what was going on seemed to always end up in trouble, as she would inevitably try to alert the elves about what we were doing.  Despite their hard work, they still found themselves unable to break through what the elves had done to Cortna’s mind in their re-education chambers.  They had nothing left but hope, a blind hope that had showed itself to be placed in nothing concrete so far.

Sereth moved them into two of the four seats and fastened them up while Hazael moved to a computer in the room, quickly hacking into it to access the main control panel to send energy into the escape pod.  The elves generally locked the escape pod so that only the commander of the ship could activate, so as to deter escapees from easily escaping during it.  Unfortunately for the elves, Hazael’s field of study was in computers, and he had become quite adept at hacking into them ever since he made the choice to finally separate himself from the elves instead of being a spy among them.

“Done,” Hazael finally said as lights in the escape pod went on.  “Let’s go.”  Dashing toward the escape pod, Hazael stepped in and shut the door behind him, sitting down at the control panel and pushing the button to let them out.  The floor began tilting as it opened up underneath them as Hazael pulled some levers as the escape pod dropped.  Pulling the steering wheel, Hazael flicked a switch and jets flamed out behind the escape pod as they propelled themselves through the sky, away from the elven ship.

“There we are,” Hazael said, breathing a sigh of relief.  “And assuming they don’t catch us now and chase us down—which they shouldn’t—we’re home free.”

“Good thing,” Sereth said, stretching her limbs.  “I grew tired of hiding out in that ship long ago.”

“Bringing Cortna didn’t help anything…” Hazael reminded her.

“I know,” Sereth said, sounding a bit exasperated.  “But, I mean…  I don’t know…  I know it isn’t rational or anything, but…”

“I know,” Hazael said quietly.  “But sometimes we must lay aside fears.  Must accept logic.”

“I know…” Sereth said, biting her fingernails.  “But…  I don’t…  I can’t trust anyone…  I don’t know…!”

“Explanation not needed,” Hazael said.  “I know how emotions trump logic.”

“Emotions aren’t trumping logic…” Sereth said.  “It just…  I don’t know…”  She muttered something else but Hazael couldn’t catch it as they continued to move away from the airship.  After ten minutes, when the elven airship was far out of sight, Hazael gave another released breath and pulled a lever to slow the escape pod down.

“Alright,” Sereth said.  “We’re free from the ship.  You want to input the coordinates of the rebel’s ship.”

“Yes…” Hazael said as he began typing in stuff to the small screen.  “What are the current coordinates of the ship right now?”

“I believe it was last right above the previous human capitol…” Sereth said.  “So somewhere around 200, 351.  Once there, we can send out radar and communicate with the rebel ship and cue into it.”

“Sounds good.”  Hazael typed in the coordinates and the ship rotated before rocketing out in another direction as they both relaxed in their seats, the ship moving forward over the ground as it moved toward the place of the ancient human capitol.

“So…” Hazael said.  “How will you break it?”

“Excuse me?”

“How will you break it to Zarien?”

“Oh…  you mean Cortna…”

“Yes.  Did he not think you Cortna last time?”

“Yes…” Sereth said, her cheeks reddening at the scene.  “I…  I hadn’t realized then how close the two of them were…  Hopefully Cortna will still be asleep when Zarien awakes so that the first thing he notices isn’t her, well, her problem.”

“Yes,” Hazael said.  “Do you know where Xavier Team is?”

“Not the rest of them, no,” Sereth moaned.  “If I did, I’d take him to them and not have to deal with what he’s going to say when he hears about Cortna.  But they haven’t used their radios with the other team at all, so I haven’t been able to spy in on them...  Which means we have to take him to the rebel base.”

“That’s bad?”

“Oh, I don’t care what happens to him when at the rebel base,” Sereth said.  “I worry about what his reaction will be when he meets me and remeets Cortna.  I mean…  if he does like Cortna…”

“He’s won’t leave us alone, yes,” Hazael said.  “And you don’t like it.”

“She’s my sister,” Sereth said, a bit defensively.  “And I don’t want his affections to go elsewhere.”

A small smile grew on Hazael’s face.  “I see.  Well.  Go on we must.”

  "Go on we must,” Cortna agreed.  And they flew forward through the sky.

Question of the Day: What will Zarien do/say when he awakes?

My apologies for my tardiness...  You guys don't give much of a competition!  :P  Only one person comments per post, making the pts more competitive, but little competition for the rewards...

Pts!  Pts!  Warbaron: 7, Bessie Lark: 3, Elspeth: 1

Part LXXXII: Home of the Auggers

Date: Kornun 23rd, 114 A.U.

In the center of the ancient meeting place of the Council of Arquenia, there stands a circular stone platform that rises a foot off of the ground.  Above it, the ceiling opens up, creating a hole in the roof the exact shape of the platform and directly above it.  In the center of the stone platform is a blue circle, bearing no significant purpose at first glance.  But in the middle of every day for millennia, an electric blue beam moves across the sea and land, passing over the stone platform in the center of the platform.  For millennia, this passing over the blue dot has marked noonday in Arquenia.  This platform is therefore called the Noon-Marker.  For millennia, the blue beam of light that stretches far up into the heavens beyond has remained steadfast in its faithful marking of noonday.

Until now.

“I call this meeting to order!” the Chief Augger said, standing up.  His name was Grandine and his generation of Auggers had led the people for centuries.  Fifty eight years old, he was already growing weary of his task and looking ahead to when he could pass into the blessed place of the Great One and his next in line would take his place.  But his time would come.  And for now he was to do his task.

“Thank you, Brother Grandine,” another augger said, standing up.  His name was Tragun, the keeper of the Noon-Marker, like his father and his father’s father before him had been.

“I come bearing a report of the strange events concerning the Noon-Marker,” Tragun said.  “As we all know, for millennia, the Noon-Marker has been faithful in keeping the time of noon.  But in the past five months, the Noon-Marker has been wavering.  It appears to follow a ten to fourteen day cycle of its wavering away from the Noon Marker.  Each day, the beam of light moves further and further away from the Noon-Marker, passing through the city as we have noticed in alarm.  Every ten to fourteen days, the beam then seems to reset itself, passing again through the Noon-Marker, before beginning another cycle of moving further and further away.  I have studied its happenings for the past months, and, seeing as the Noon-Marker seems to be broken and this is not a temporary thing, we have called this meeting to discuss its going on.”

“I will speak,” Yarvil spoke. One of the sages among the auggers, Yarvil was one of the few that delved deeply into the vaults of the collective memories of his ancestors. Most auggers didn’t, being warned away once for the many gruesome and horrible scenes and memories contained in the collective memory.  Few auggers braved the reliving of the memories of their fathers and continued to delve deeply into their memory, but those that did so were regarded well among the augger kind.  Those were the sages, and the leaders of the auggers.

“My memories stretch back to the setting of the Noon-Marker,” Yarvil said.  “It was on this island that we were all created and here that the Great One formed the thrones for us, gave us the Seven Golden Corsha Weapons, and appointed the First Watcher to be the guardian and keeper of Arquenia.  It was the First Watcher who set the Noon-Marker to track time, and it is upon this that we have relied on for the millennia.  In the past couple months, I have tried again to contact the Sixth Watcher, but it has been in vain.  As he has been ever since we returned to this island following our near extinction in the mainland, the Watcher did not respond.  As we have concluded time and time before, the Watcher appears to have moved on to another Central place.  And so we can find no help there.”

"This wavering of the Noon-Beam is not a light thing to be taken up,” another augger said.  “For years it has been a constant setting of time for us.  Now, with the wavering of the Noon-Beam, time itself seems to be wavering.  How long will it be before the Noon-Beam must decide to go back to a constant or to veer off the edge?  And with the wavering of the Noon-Beam, time itself must either stay constant or come to a perpetual end.  The Noon-Beam must be fixed and set back to its proper state.”

“It is a thing that only the Watcher can do,” Grandine, the Chief Augger said.  “We had never before in the generations previous have had to orchestrate and run such things as the Noon-Beam.  In the first age, it was the Watcher who ran it and who kept the planet in motion.  With the silence of the Sixth Watcher, such grave events must drive us to make a greater effort to discern where the Sixth Watcher has went and how we might bring the Noon-Beam back into its proper place in time.”

“We have two options then,” another augger said.  “To venture outside our island to the mainland of Arquenia…  or to enter the doorway of the Watcher.”  Silence fell upon the group.

“Venturing to the mainland would be folly,” Grandine finally said.  “From our last reports from our scouts, the elves still have control there, and they would capture us at first sight.  No.  We must stay here outside of their domain.  Which would leave only one option, and one that I am ready to take.  We must enter the doorway of the Watcher.”

“No one has done such a thing since the creation,” Yarvil said.  “It is forbidden to enter that domain which the Watcher alone may walk.”

“Yes, the Watcher said that we must not enter therein,” Grandine said.  “And as the Great One has commanded, we are to submit to those in authority.  But the Watcher has been gone for centuries.  He might be dead.  We must discover what happened to him in order that we might fix the Noon-Beam and align it again to the Noon-Stone.  We must do what no augger or any other race has done before.  We must enter the domain of the Watcher.”

Question of the Day: What will they find in the domain of the Watcher?

Sorry for the lack of a question last time...  I had written a question, but weebly didn't save it before I posted so it wasn't there...  Anyways...

Pts!  Warbaron: 4, Bessie Lark: 3, Elspeth: 1

Part LXXXI: Not Enough Time

Date: Kornun 19th, 114 A.U.

Zarien dashed down the hallway of the apartment building as he hoped he would get to an elevator before the rest of the elves did.  He had barely managed to fend off the elves down the trap door, but by the time they were killed, there wasn’t enough time to board the ship along with the others.  Punching a button, Zarien waited as the elevator ascended to meet him.

The doors opened and Zarien had just enough time to see the orcs in the elevator before he leapt to the side.  Shooting madly, bullets flung into the elevator as a crackle of lightning flew out, almost hitting him.  This wasn’t going to work.  Mind racing, Zarien pulled a grenade out of his belt and pulled the pin, flinging it into the elevator before jumping aside.  One orc tried to escape but it was too late as Zarien shot him down.  A couple seconds later the grenade went off, blowing the elevator and the orcs inside to shreds.  He wouldn’t be able to fight off all the elves that would be downstairs.  He needed to get out another way.

Running at one of the doors, Zarien shot at the lock a couple times before kicking it open.  A dwarf turned to see him and gave a roar of anger as Zarien leapt passed him towards the window.

“Sorry!” Zarien yelled, and twisting to go back-first, threw himself out the window.  Glass pierced his back as he twisted, pointing at one of the buildings and fired the zip-line to bring him over to the building. Airships flew overhead, still focused on the escaping ship of the Xavier Team.  Bother.

"We’re trying to get back around to find you, but I’m not sure how we’re going to do it!” Flek said.  “I just got word from Number 994 and he said he’d be able to meet us at the meeting point.”

“Just forget about me!” Zarien said as momentum carried him forward to a roof of the building he had flew to.  “I’ll just escape my own way and you can pick me up outside the camp when everything’s quiet.  Just get out of here and we’ll meet up later!”

“Alright,” Flek said, and the line went dead.  Leaping off the building, Zarien aimed for the building furthest set apart and closest to the quarries.  He had just enough line to get there and he could escape in the quarries.  Zipping through the air, Zarien watched as the airships still didn’t seem to notice him.  Releasing the line just before impact, Zarien flew over the parapet of the building and onto the top.  And then a wave of electricity flooded his senses and everything blanked out.


“Get up.”  Zarien groggily shook his head as he found himself held up by two strong elves before the presence of an orc.

“Ugh,” Zarien said, and his eyes narrowed as he tried to regain focus.  “What do you want?”

“I am Number 1,314,” the orc said.  “I am in charge of security at the labor camp.  Who are you and why did you come here?”

If only Number 994 had been with him.  Zarien knew that a 994 would easily be able to best a 1,314 in the orcish hierarchy.  “My name is Zarien,” Zarien finally said.  “I’m a member of the Xavier Team.”  The Emperor already knew that the Xavier Team existed, so it shouldn’t be too much of a help to know that they had been here.

The information had its intended effect and Zarien watched the fear flash through Number 1,314’s eyes.  If he just was able to be free, Zarien was sure that he’d be able to overpower them.  Course getting out of this slave camp would be a whole other problem to deal with.

“Why are you here?” Number 1,314 spat.  “According to all reliable history, Emperor Jaigran was part of the Xavier Team, not whoever you think you are.”

“We’re here to overthrow your rule,” Zarien said casually.  “And whether we’re the real Xavier Team or not, we nearly killed your Emperor last Yippah, so if your Emperor is afraid of us, you ought to be too.”

“You lie,” Number 1,314 spat.  “I heard nothing of an assassination attempt on the Emperor.”

“Probably because he’s too embarrassed to admit it,” Zarien retorted.  “Did you hear of the Emperor’s trip to the Citadel of Tzel-Maret?  It almost ended in disaster for your favorite tyrant.”

“I had heard rumors…” Number 1,314 muttered before looking up.  “Very well, elf.  You’ve sealed your own fate then.  We’ll send you in the next transport ship to the Mothership and will send you to Emperor Jaigran to deal with.  Guards, take this elf to the prison cells and guard him well.  I’ll alert the Emperor about this development.”


Zarien was only in the cells for a couple hours before the guards came again to get him. 

“The Emperor wants you delivered to him as fast as we can,” the one guard spat.  “And so it’s off to the Mothership for you.” Zarien glowered at them as they hauled him out of the room and led him toward the transport ship, all the while trying to figure out if he could escape and if not, what he was going to say to Jaigran in order to best preserve the cause of the Xavier Team.  He supposed it was too much to hope that Flek and the others would be able to rescue him.  By the time they realized that they had waited long enough for him to show up at their appointed place, he would be long gone.  A pit began to form in Flek’s stomach.

He was led into a metal garage, a large transport ship waiting and ready for takeoff.  “They’ve put enough guards to keep you secure,” one of the guards sneered.  “And the goblins aren’t going to rescue you like they did your Sla’ad companion.”  Zarien jolted.  Since when had the Emperor connected that the Sla’ad they had captured which the goblins had freed was the same Sla’ad that was part of the Xavier Team?  Or maybe it was just too obvious.

“We’ll see about that,” Zarien spat.  And with that, the guards transferred him to a new set of guards that led him into the transport ship.  He was strapped down in a seat in a dark room in the center of the ship, blindfolded and gagged—as if not having a blindfold or a gag would help him much—and then the door to the cell was shut.  And Zarien heard the rumbles as the transport ship took off into the sky.  There was a hissing noise and Zarien thought he smelled something as his senses gave way.  He realized that it was knockout gas just as he finally lost consciousness.

Question of the Day: What should Zarien say to Jaigran to best preserve the cause of the Xavier Team?

Alright, I've got a mini-map of part of Arquenia today!  Not the large map I've promised to do of the whole map of Arquenia, but hopefully this will suffice for now...

Pts!  Warbaron wins Part LXXVIII as the only commenter, and I liked Bessie Lark's answer the best for last time so...

Warbaron: 4, Bessie Lark: 3

Part LXXX: Council of Sla’ad

Date: Kornun 23rd, 114 A.U.

“I hereby call this war council into order!” Tzjearjlan declared, banging the gavel as the Sla’ad and the Xavier Team members sat down around the round table.  “This is the 723rd War Council since the beginning of the Great War of Arquenia.  Would our secretary read the minutes of our last council?”

“Seven hundred twenty three?” Jroldin whispered incredulously to Reynyagn as the secretary began reading off minutes.

“Our people still view your War against the Sla’ad as never having fully finished,” Reynyagn whispered back.  “In our reckoning, your forces were betrayed by Jaigran when he ascended into the sky and you all joined us in the Great War of Arquenia, as our people call it.  Because I used to lead this tribe and because I was the last leader of the Sla’ad, our tribe has taken the mantle of the leader of the Sla’ad upon itself and our tribe is mostly followed by all the other wandering tribes.  This is thus the 723rd War Council since the day when we, under the tyrannic King Zzyanvyar, attacked you and began the War of the Sla’ad, hereafter referred to as the Great War of Arquenia.” Jroldin was still trying to figure that all out when the minutes were done being read.

“Today we call Reynyagn, Leader of the Xavier Team, to speak concerning his desires in this new development in the Great War,” Tzjearjlan said.  “Reynyagn, would you like to speak for your party?”

“Aye, I would,” Reynyagn said, standing up.  “I come here today to let you know of this new development, of the formation of the Xavier Team, and of our search for the Arglem as being a key object in the Great War of Arquenia.  We are searching for the object and would appreciate any aid in this matter.”

“I was one of the many servants of King Zzyanvyar,” one of the Sla’ad said, standing up. “I was privy as a silent aid during many of the initial war councils and heard their discussions on the Arglem.  As the war began to progress very bad for them as they didn’t get any of the allies they sought for but were being pushed back by the other races, they contemplated trying to use the Arglem to turn the tide, but those for it were always strongly opposed by the dissenters.  In the end, with the war pressing against their gates, they voted to take it and many of the other Sla’ad treasures and key weapons and to hide them in a secret place where those that came after them would be able to recover and use them.  The war was already lost for them and they didn’t want their most precious weapons and plans to fall into enemy hands.”

“Was the location of this trove discussed?” Reynyagn asked.

“The location of the trove was a secret known by only a few of the Council,” the Sla’ad said.  “They didn’t want the information tortured out of those who knew, so only three, one of them being King Zzyanvyar of course, knew the whereabouts of the trove.  They hired fifty workers to hide it and seal it in the mountains and then murdered the Sla’ad in order to keep the whereabouts known only to a few.  I believe that they also equipped it with traps that were only known to the three Sla’ad, in order to prevent any from gaining access to it.  Of the three, King Zzyaanvyar and General Riksha were slain in the Invasion.  Only Lord Arglemanov’s fate is unknown.  He fled the city with me and many of the other Sla’ad when the walls were breached.  We were separated soon after and I have heard nothing of his fate since then.”

Jroldin listened as different Sla’ad asked the other Sla’ad many questions about statistics and ways to find Arglemanov and other such boring matters.  Jroldin had nearly fallen asleep out of boredom when the conversation finally moved to a new topic.

“We will now turn to the matter of the Mothership’s birthplace,” Tzjearjlan said.  “Would the honorable secretary please bring the Xavier Team up to date on the current situation of our exploration there?”

“Yes,” the secretary said, standing up.  “Four months ago we settled here after finding what appeared to be where the elves built the Mothership.  Further inspection proved that our guess was correct and that it was in a neighboring valley that the elves built their colossal engineering feat.  We have made several journeys since then and have made a full report on our findings.  We have a detailed map of the area here,” he said, bringing out a map which he placed on the table.  “We have found what appear to be old computer files that have been corrupted and somewhat ruined, but which appear to have blueprints of the Mothership on it.  We have found some partially-destroyed physical blueprints as well and at our last meeting by a unanimous vote elected to form a committee with the task of trying to piece together all of the blueprints and information into one coherent document.”

“Would the chairman of that committee please rise and give a report on his committee?” Tzjearjlan asked.

One of the Sla’ad rose.  “Since the last meeting, we have been diligent in doing as the Council commissioned us to do.  We have scanned all the physical blueprints into our computers and have transferred all the computer data we have found as well.  It has taken us numerous work, but we’ve begun to piece many of the files together to begin to form a computer layout of the Mothership.  We estimate that it will take us another month at least to combine all the documents that we have and estimate that we will retain at least 80% of the original blueprint source for all of our files.”

Jroldin continued to listen as they discussed the Mothership—how it was formed, how long it took, the possibilities of creating their own Mothership, and the possibility of visiting the site.  Finally it was decided after much argument, that the Xavier Team would visit the site the following day in order to glean any information they could.  The Council would recess until after the Xavier Team returned and would then meet again.  And with a final vote, the meeting was over.  Jroldin wondered how people here could seem to enjoy this meeting.  Much less how they could stand seven hundred of them. 

Sorry for Saturday's post being yesterday.  -_-  I honestly thought I published it then, but weebly thought I wanted to save it as a draft :P  Anyways, I haven't gotten many comments from my loyal fans since I've had to merge the TPS readers to this site...  It makes me sad...  So please comment!

Part LXXIX: Plans for War

Date: Kornun 22nd, 114 A.U.

“Emperor Jaigran!”  The Watcher stalked in through the doors that the guards had opened for him as Emperor Jaigran turned from a table full of scattered papers and diagrams concerning the upgrades to the Mothership that had finally started to be implemented on its structure, though some of the upgrades still had to be designed.

“Ah, I see that you are back from your re-energizing trip, or whatever you call it,” Jaigran said as the guards shut the doors behind the Watcher.  Jaigran turned back toward his drawings as he made some notes on one of them.

"The name doesn’t matter,” the Watcher snapped.  “What matters is that you’re skimping on the work that you’re supposed to be doing.”

Emperor Jaigran bristled as he turned around to face the Watcher.  “I have been Emperor for 114 years and you dare say that I-”

“I have been alive for longer than you could even dream of living, you fool!” the Watcher snapped.  “A lot longer than any sane being should live.  Am I to know that you have dropped all plans of aggression against the goblins?  And why is it that I have not heard anything about our operations among the Resistance for months?”

"There was no point in continuing the operations,” Jaigran said as he turned back to gaze at the diagrams.  “The plan we came up with months ago basically rendered further infiltration and invasion useless.”

“You underestimate your enemies,” the Watcher snapped.  “The Xavier Team nearly killed you six months ago!”

Jaigran glowered as he turned back to stare at the Watcher.  “And I’ve doubled up my guards since then.”

“All I’ve seen is your cowering under light and making sure every shadow is made bright because you think there’s a Sla’ad waiting behind every corner to massacre you!” the Watcher complained, gesturing at the bright lights overhead that left the room shadow-free.  “Don’t you realize the power that the goblins and the Resistance hold?”

“They are a petty force that thought they could destroy the strength of the elves,” Jaigran retorted.  “I was well on the path to annihilating them before, and now that our new plans will kill them all anyways, there is no point in going on.”

“There is a prophesy that could well spell out your defeat,” the Watcher snapped.

“I fulfilled Xavier’s Prophesy long ago,” Jaigran said.  “There really-”

“You cut corners and twisted words to make sure that there were no Sla’ad in your team,” the Watcher said.  “Furthermore, the new Xavier Team rediscovered the race of the auggers and gotten one of them to join their team, even though you still think they’re creatures of legend.  Fortunately, the prophesy likewise tells of their possible demise and doesn’t assure them victory.”

“Then we have nothing to worry about,” Jaigran said.

“Only because I am doing your work for you!” the Watcher snapped.  “I have a traitor on the Xavier Team who is working with me—how I got one of them to betray their team is none of your business.  But you still have the goblins and the Resistance to deal with.  I don’t care how puny you think they are, but there’s no point calling checkmate while the game is still far from finished.  We can have no loose ends.”

“What do you want me to do?” Jaigran snapped.

“Fortunately for you, I got some help with the goblins,” the Watcher replied.  “Some stupid goblin who thinks that an abnormally large tree is a god or something.  The fool has no idea of the true purpose and power of the tree he has named the Mothertree.  I’ve set things in motion to culminate in a rebellion against Lord Freglak of the goblins.  But the rebellion will only help if you go back to committing troops to the battle against them and stop ditching your own soldiers.”

“Fine, fine, fine,” Jaigran muttered.  “I’ll tell Unyihi to organize some reinforcements to continue the war there.  What else?”

“The Resistance,” the Watcher snapped.  “According to the rumors I’ve heard, you haven’t had any communication with your infiltration there for months.  From what I heard, you got so close to destroying the Resistance, and now-”

“I’ll do that again too,” Jaigran snapped.  “If only to please you.  What’s the use doing it all anyways?  They’ll be killed either way.”

“I prefer not to have any potential problems in our equation to victory,” the Watcher said, eyes narrowing.  “I’ve seen more history and more events than even the auggers could dream of and I’ve seen too many a despot fall by underestimating his opponents.  We will not let that happen again.  You will get back on track in wiping out any potential opposition and we will destroy the Xavier Team.  Do you have me clear?”

“Yes,” Emperor Jaigran glowered.  “I understand.”

“Good,” the Watcher said, walking over to the table.  “Now what do we have here?”

"The latest reports from our research stations for upgrading the Mothership and our other ships,” Jaigran said.  “The ‘civilian Motherships’—or whatever you want to call them—are going as planned and should be ready weeks ahead of schedule, if everything goes as planned.”

“Everything never goes as planned,” the Watcher muttered.  “Have you done research on the Arglem?”

"I haven’t been twiddling my fingers the past few months,” Jaigran said.  “I’m still trying to find that stupid elf archaeologist that deserted after Tzel-Maret but have mostly given up on that.  She and her brainwashed sister seem to be long gone.  I’ve extracted information from some of our slaves that were part of the war against the Sla’ad, but have only gotten hints and scratches of where it was.  According to them, the Sla’ad had enough foresight to hide the Arglem elsewhere, in some ancient secret treasure trove, before our forces invaded their chief city.”

“Then the path ahead of us seems clear, does it not?” the Watcher asked.  “The Sla’ad hid it, so the Sla’ad will find it.  We need to find some of the remaining Sla’ad and learn the whereabouts of this trove.”

“Already prepared for,” Jaigran replied.  “We’ve been tracking the path of a wandering Sla’ad tribe through a region in the ancient empire of the Sla’ad.  They cover their tracks well, but not well enough.  Within a week or two, we should pinpoint their current location.”

“Good,” the Watcher replied.  “Seems like you aren’t a total waste of an emperor.”

“You already knew that,” Jaigran replied.  “There’s a reason, after all these centuries, that you picked me to orchestrate your rise to power.”

“Even immense minds such as mine can forget things in the heat of the moment,” the Watcher replied.  “By working together, we will rise above all the other races of Arquenia.”

“And they will rue the day that they failed to bow the knee before me,” Emperor Jaigran said.  “In the day when we rule over all.”

Question of the Day: Who is the traitor and how are they in contact with the Watcher?

Announcing the new comments contest!  Scoring is as follows: You get one point for making a comment and two points for the best answer for the question.  Prize for the winner of the comment contest of Book III will be announced shortly.  Now get at it!  :)

Part LXXVIII: On All Sides

Date: Kornun 19th, 114 A.U.

Astrid felt the air breezing by her as she fell, still managing to hold the petrified Hagion in her arms.  Astrid managed to point her one arm left, moving her pinky finger down to press the button as she tried to point while clinging onto Hagion, who had been knocked out by the impact of them flying through the window.  Instantly, a wire with a small claw on the end flew out, hitting the top of a nearby building and somehow clinging on to it as Astrid suddenly rocketed forward toward the building.  She had a metal contraption on her right arm wove all around the outer side of it, almost like a second arm compressed against it but made out of metal, that connected to the metal backpack that fueled her transportation wire.  The building grew closer and closer and suddenly they were over it—Astrid releasing the mechanism on her arm as the wire snapped back into place.

Monty was already ripping his cloak off as he was frantically calling in their support via his radio-earpiece.  Letting Hagion down for a moment, Astrid quickly took her cloak off to provide access to what was beneath, revealing the clothes and weapons he had kept hidden from the elven guards.  Around her belt she had two guns, two knives, and a couple grenades, along with some other assorted tools. 

“Why did you bring him?” Monty yelled as he ran toward the edge, his eyes darting to find the next escape plan as Astrid watched the elven airships coming toward him.

“He’ll be useful!” Astrid frantically said as she aimed her right arm toward another building as she hugged Hagion with her left arm to keep him up.  “Besides he’s light.”  She hit the mechanism and the wire shot out, wrapping around an antenna on the other roof as she rocketed forward, Monty flying beside her as he yelled something into his earpiece that allowed him to communicate with the rest of the group.  Gunshots blared around them as the elven airships got closer.

“I need you to change directions in flight!” Monty roared as he gestured at another building.  “There.”

“But-"

"Now!”  Monty’s wire went limp as it whizzed back into his arm contraption as he fell, turning as he pointed at the next building, the wire again flying out.  Trying to hold onto Hagion, Astrid loosed the contraption as the momentum carried her forward, frantically pointing as she felt Hagion slipping from her arms.  The wire flung and grew taut on the next building and they were flying again.

“This is code red, please get to your stations,” a loud robotic voice blared.  “This is an emergency.  Intruders have invaded the camp.  Repeat.  Intruders have invaded the camp.”

Astrid staggered as she hit the roof of the next building, barely remembering to let the wire mechanism to get back into her arm.  A trapdoor in the roof opened, and before Astrid could say anything, Zarien leapt out, slamming it behind him.

"Flek’s coming as soon as possible and Number 994 is safe,” he gasped, looking behind them toward the elven airships that were quickly narrowing the distance. 

“Next roof,” Astrid exclaimed. 

“Do we have enough wire?!” Monty gestured at the large gap between their building, the last of the apartments, to the other buildings that were farther away from the elven airships.

“No,” Zarien answered for him.  “Run for cover!”  The trapdoor he had come out of began opening.  “I’ll get them!”

Zarien made it to the trapdoor just as the first elf emerged.  Zarien socked him on the jaw before slamming the trapdoor on him as Astrid dragged Hagion behind a generator, shots ringing all around.  Quickly depositing Hagion, Astrid pulled the pin on the grenade and leapt up, standing atop the generator to see the elven airships nearly on them as she threw the grenade, throwing herself forward for cover as the ground raced toward her.

The hard metal of the roof hit her face as skin tore, an explosion ringing overhead.  Astrid rolled, bringing up her arms to try to block the shrapnel, but the airship hadn’t been close enough yet to rain shrapnel done.  Her arm still over her face, Astrid looked up as the other airship flew overhead.  And ten elves dropped down on cables.

Astrid leapt up, grabbing for her gun as Monty slammed into them.  Knocking one off balance, he grabbed the elf’s automatic gun and opened fire.  Astrid scrambled back as Monty ducked behind a ventilator, bullets flying into the ventilator as Astrid scooted next to Monty.  From the corner of her eye she watched the elves aim their guns at Zarien, struggling with the elves in the trapdoor.

Astrid screamed as at the last moment, Zarien grabbed the last elf fighting him and threw himself behind the elf, using the elf as a shield as the bullets ripped into the elf.  The other elves moved toward Zarien and, throwing aside his shield, Zarien slipped down into the trapdoor.

Gunshots suddenly blasted across the roof.  Astrid screamed and dove for cover but she was already under cover.  A figure dropped from the sky into the middle of the elves and light flashed.  The figure leapt and ducked, weaving his corsha blades through the elves before they had a chance to react. 

Flek killed the last elf before gesturing toward the ship that had halted above.  “Come on!”  He yelled.  “Number 994 is in there!  We don’t have much time!”  He gestured toward more elven guardships that were flying closer.”

"But Zarien-”

“I’m in communication with him!” Flek said, gesturing to his earpiece.  “We’ll pick him up soon!  Let’s go!”  A ladder dropped down from the ship, and, running for Hagion, Astrid moved toward the ship as the elven ships drew closer.  Monty was there waiting at the ladder and, grabbing Astrid, held her tight as the ladder began lifting up into the ship.  And, with merely seconds to avoid being pummelled by the elven airships, it began its flight away.  And the chase began.

Question of the Day: How does Number 994 escape?  (I don't have any backstory planned for how he does, so let your creative juices get flowing...)