All Hail Dave, the Joe Shmoe Who Accidentally Became A God-Monarch!
Today's spotlight will focus on the most mind-boggling of the God-Monarchs, a man who defies every conceivable notion of what an all-powerful deity should be, a man who often appears powerless before others yet wields unfathomable power when the moment demands it, a man who wants nothing to do with Highemperor, yet finds his fate inescapably intertwined. He is Zhuge, the--
Sorry? That one's already covered? Then who's getting covered?
Ah, right.
He's a Joe Shmoe who--
What now?!
...That's actually his name? And...he prefers to go by "Dave" these days? Says it sounds better... Right. Hey, why does this seem familiar?
Oh... oh dear.
He was in The Never-ending Story Thread, that's why. Do I really have to do an expose on him? ...Fine.
-----------------------------------
Joseph David Shmoe lived an unusual first twenty-some years of his life. This isn't to say that Joe--sorry, Dave-- lived a particularly exciting life. In fact, his life could be accused of being dull, mediocre, average, mundane, and forgettable were it not for just enough moments of surviving the occasional end-of-the-world worthy explosion, stumbling on recording the ominous "Bloop" sound, flip-flopping on the bell-curve of statistical likeliness in both good and evil acts, and just memorable enough to wish he had been forgotten. All-in-all, though, as it concerns the history of his becoming a God-Monarch, Dave lived as any other cowardly and idiotic human in the NeSiverse, his insignificance to such higher powers seemingly insurmountable.
Which is, of course, to say that Dave surmounted it, though not through any doing or will of his own. Sometimes, Existence sort of just assumes that a limit set won't be broken, and when it does, it just sort of sweeps things under the rug and claims it was always like that.
Dave's story starts on page 10 of the Never-ending Story, where, as Joe the Sound Guy, he wins over the heart of Losien for a short time. He showed off his superhero identity, TOEJOE, before scoring with her in a laundromat. To this day, Dave considers this the high point of his life. After parting ways, Dave heard that Losien fell for someone else. With nobody to impress, Dave hung up the superhero life because it involved far too much paperwork and far too little pay.
Villainy, now there was something that involved a lot less hassle and a lot more pay. Especially when that paycheck comes from Bill Gates, who just happened to have a soul-consuming Legion-like spirit in his service that wanted certain would-be-heroes dead. All Dave had to do was deliver a bomb to his one-time love. Well, and then follow her to the Ninth Circle of Hell (Canada) to ensure the bomb actually went off. A lot of craziness ensued that, frankly, went over his head, and someone had hurled the bomb to some far-away planet. When the pandemonium died, Dave was left alone, because some Writer didn't bother filling everyone in on the details of the aftermath.
Dave: "Um... so does this mean I need to look for another job?"
He looks down and notices a wallet. Looking around first, he then picks it up and examines its contents.
Dave: "Holy smokes! That's a lot of hundreds! And a lot of vouchers for Red Lobster... Highemperor, huh? Did his parents name him that, I wonder? I suppose I should give the guy his wallet back. Maybe. Minus a few hundreds he probably won't miss--"
Just then, a fleet of rather intimidating-looking spaceships zoom above where he stood and a hologram projection of an even more intimidating-looking alien face appears to stare right at Dave.
Alien: "We've tracked the bomb that destroyed Sitraehehterehwsiemoh to this location. Are you the one who handled the bomb?"
Dave: "I, er, that is to say--"
Alien: "You should know that we, the Smurtmat-Repmet, are a race that instantly knows when anyone isn't telling the truth."
Dave: "...yes?"
The alien stares at Dave with piercing eyes. It looks side to side before throwing its arms in celebration.
Alien: "Then you are our savior! The vile people of Sitraehehterehwsiemoh have been bombarding us with hand-stitched throw pillows and potluck invitations for at least three whole weeks! We shall forever worship you as a god among us, Oh Mighty...?
Dave: "Dave, and what was that about pillows?"
Before he could raise further questions or objections, though, the Smurtmat-Repmet abduct Dave into one of their spacecraft and speed off towards their home solar system. Dave sits rather perplexed in a lavish guest room, or he presumes it to be lavish, as it reminds him more of the sort of place that a toy shop and a torture chamber gave birth to.
As Dave considers accepting his new life as god of an alien race, a blue policebox churns into existence before his eyes, sputtering and smoking slightly as it finishes solidifying. The doors open, and out steps a short-haired man in a leather jacket. When he speaks, he carries a distinctive Northern English accent.
Man: "This isn't London... oh, hello! Pardon me, I'm the Doctor."
Dave: "Doctor of what?"
The Doctor: "Oh, I get asked that all the--actually, you asked something else, didn't you? I don't get that one as often. What are you doing on a Smurtmat-Repmet vessel, if I may ask? Don't you know they're a terribly violent species known for immolating their heroes as statues? They call it Davefication--OO-OO! Are you Dave? The Dave who is seated among the Thirteen Thrones? Oh, this is very exciting!"
Dave: "What? Uh, yeah... about all you said, could you maybe hitch me a ride out of here? Back to Earth?"
The Doctor: "Oh certainly! I was just heading to London when I had some malfunctions and--well, enough about that, right? Hop on in!"
As Dave enters the blue police box AKA the TARDIS, he looks around the spacious interior.
Dave: "It's, uh...not what I was expecting."
The Doctor: "Yes, yes, it's bigger on the--"
Dave: "It doesn't look very high-tech."
The Doctor: "Oh. Well, looks aren't everything, you know?"
Slamming a switch and twisting some knobs, the Doctor initiates the TARDIS to travel once more. Several of the Smurtmat-Repmet step in the room after it disappears, and sore from that moment on that all their heroes would be immortalized in a more permanent fashion.
The Doctor: "London, here we come!"
Sparks fly and more explosions erupts, shifting the two wildly in another direction. When the TARDIS finally gives out, the two step outside to see a primordial landscape.
Dave: "Uh... if you don't mind me asking, have you been to London before?"
The Doctor: "This is London alright. We're just off by a few billion years. Really, it's amazing we hit the mark when there's an Earth at all."
Dave: "Are we... in the past?"
The Doctor: "Did I forget to mention that my TARDIS travels through time too? Look, I admit, it's been a bit temperamental lately--"
Dave: "Temperamental?!"
The Doctor: "--and it's really not safe for humans like you to ride in it right now. I'm going to need to take it elsewhere to fix it, but I'll be back by tea-time, right? Right. Stay put then! I'll be back!"
With that, The Doctor hops back into his TARDIS and disappears, leaving Dave alone on a violent, newly-formed Earth. Several hours pass by.
Dave: "I don't think he's coming back."
Out of existential boredom, Dave picks up a rock and begins to chisel "Dave was here" into the side of another rock. However, he only finished his name when two beings plummet into the Earth nearby him. Dave covers his head illogically in instinctual fear. When the dust clears, a man and a woman stand facing each other intently.
Woman: "This time, Highemperor, I'll end you for sure!"
Man/Highemperor: "You're good, Imeryn, but I'm better!"
As the two begin to slug it out, realization slowly dawns on Dave.
Dave: "Highemperor...? Oh right! Hey! Over here! I have something for you!"
As he fumbles to get out the wallet, his one-track mind keeping him from considering the implications of interrupting such a battle, Highemperor and Imeryn struggle for dominance over each other.
Dave: "Wait a minute... that's right."
He quickly fishes out a few hundreds to shove into his own pocket. As dumb happenstance would have it, he now stands directly between Imeryn and Highemperor
Imeryn: "Get out of the way!"
As Dave raises his wallet-hand in offer, Imeryn aims to fire a blinding energy blast through Dave at Highemperor. Highemperor takes the distraction as an opportunity to teleport behind Imeryn for an attack. As she fires, the beam hits square on the wallet.
(It should be noted here that, being the possession of a powerplayer's, the wallet happens to have powerplaying properties of its own, one of which is to amplify anything it touches. Designed to increase the amount of money it has, it also has the unintentional side-effect of reflecting damage in greater amounts.)
The beam ricochets off the wallet and back at Imeryn amplified by magnitudes. Instinctively, she dodges to the side, and the beam hits Highemperor square in the chest. She stares in amazement as the attack, apparently from Dave, has critically injured her enemy. Growling, Highemperor sweeps his cape over him and disappears.
Imeryn turns to Dave.
Imeryn: "What was that all about?"
Dave: "Uh... well, you see, I had business with that Highemperor guy, and--"
Imeryn: "--you seek revenge against him too, don't you? By all accounts, you seem to be just another Joe Shmoe--"
Dave: "Please don't call me that."
Imeryn: "--and yet you took him down so easily. Tell me, how would you like to join me and my cabal as a fellow God-Monarch?"
Dave: "Do you immolate your God-Monarchs?"
Imeryn: "Why would we immolate--OH! You're Dave! Sorry, I didn't recognize you at first. I only knew you by reputation, you see. Come with me to Mega-Jonestown Prime. We have a lot to talk about!"
She grabs Dave's not-wallet-holding hand.
Dave: "Oh dear."
I'll Take the Lo Road, You Take the High Road.
Lo: "Colour me disappointed..."
She marches out of the alley with her hands on her hips, coat flipped out to the back. He boots make heavy clops with each step as the sound echoes up the alley walls.
Zhuge: "I don't get told I'm a disappointment very often..."
He slowly walks up the alley after her, curious. His talons pas almost silently, the slight click of his nails hitting the road.
Lo looks at him as he appears at her side. She tips her tricord hat up from her brow and grins, displaying her prominent fangs.
Lo: "Doesn't sound very humble of you."
Zhuge: "Just honesty."
Lo: "I thought I'd detected a device that I could use... instead I find a daft old buzzard."
Zhuge: "My mindscape is not the easiest thing to detect, expect through very extenuating circumstances. What exactly would you use this supposed device for?"
Lo: "Kidnap a guy and make him my *****!"
Her grin widens further.
Zhuge blinks several times before nodding slowly, turns around and walks away. She frowns and turns to look after him.
Lo: "Where're you off to!?"
Zhuge: "I am clearly not the device you are looking for..."
He says without turning around.
Lo: "But I'm thinking maybe you know something."
Zhuge: "I definitely do not have any information that'll help you kidnap someone and, as you say, make them your... *****..."
Lo chuckles and skips down the alley after him.
Lo: "Why such a prude, eh?"
Zhuge rolls his eyes.
Zhuge: "I'm not a prude. I just don't condone kidnapping."
He pauses.
Zhuge: "Nor do I condone making someone your *****."
She laughs again.
Zhuge: "But I am annoyed that I have to, once again, move my home. I quite liked it here."
Lo: "You know they have slaves here, right? Sounds like there's a lot of... *****es here."
Zhuge: "Yes, but I tend to just watch people rather than interact with them. Seeing so many people doing whatever they do has been comforting."
Lo: "Sounds like you're a lonely, lonely man."
Zhuge: "It's best that way..."
Lo: "Whoa. Hey. Don't go opening up to me, or anything. I don't want you crying on my shoulder!"
Zhuge: "I shall refrain."
Lo: "Okay, okay. Twist my arm, why don't you. Why do you like to be alone?"
Zhuge just shakes his head.
Lo: "What do you know of Highemperor?"
She detects a momentary twitch in his animate beak but he masks it quickly.
Zhuge: "Is this the ***** you are referring to?"
Lo: "Absolutely."
Zhuge: "Wouldn't you prefer... someone willing to be your *****?"
Lo: "I guess you know then!"
Zhuge: "I've had the displeasure. An entertaining man, but frustrating too. I see... I see a lot in him that concerns me."
Lo: "I see a lot in him too. A lot that I want to possess."
She smirks. It's a sly smirk that appears much too sinister. But to a anthropomorphic bird, any cat-like creature probably looks sinister at the best of times.
Zhuge: "He's dangerous. Ambitious, powerful and unwilling to acknowledge the inevitable destiny that awaits his current ambitions..."
Lo: "But if that current course were to be handcuffed to my bed day and night..."
Zhuge tilts his head.
Zhuge: "I... suppose..."
She cheers and slaps her arm across his shoulders.
Lo: "So we're best mates as of now, eh!? Do you know how to beat him? How to I get him on his knees?"
Zhuge: "I might. But any method of defeating such a being as this requires patience. Extreme patience."
Lo: "I've got loads of patience. What're we talking here? A week? A month?"
Zhuge just groans and, instead, moves on to more information.
Zhuge: "I also expect you couldn't do it alone..."
Lo: "Pfft! You're helping me!"
Zhuge: "I've all but renounced everything I once was. I'm willing to give you my wisdom but not my power."
Lo: "Meh! Where's there's a will there's a way, right!?"
Zhuge: "Yes. With help there's a way... but remember, if I help you design your schemes, my intent is to save this universe from him. Your whim is secondary."
Lo: "Whim? I tell you, this is a burning passion of deep desire and yearning! I'd steal your knickers on a whim. I don't vow to make the most powerful man in the NeSiverse my husband on a whim."
Zhuge: "...I don't wear knickers."
Lo: "You kinky old bird."
Zhuge: "No, I wear-- you're actually more annoying than he is."
Lo: "But I'm the safe option, right? Remember, save the universe and all that crap?"
He nods and moves away from her, staring vacantly at the ground as he aimlessly treads forth. He stops and looks up at the green sky.
Zhuge: "I'm faring dangerously close to a life I wish to avoid at all costs."
Lo: "Yeah. I'm getting that. But... isn't it worth it? You said he could destroy the NeSiverse..."
Zhuge: "He could... so... is this universe worth the possibility of losing myself?"
Lo: "Your single life versus the many, bird-brain. I mean. If it was my life, of course that's worth more than the billions upon billions of sentients beings of the NeSiverse. But yours? I'm just too many beautiful and talented."
Zhuge almost laughs at her mocking vanity.
Zhuge: "But are they worth caring about? That is the question. Life comes and goes..."
Lo sidles up beside him again and points at the Orions out on the street beyond the alley.
Lo: "You said yourself, you've been watching them. You're a lonely old man. Aren't they worth it for the company?"
Zhuge: "You have a very unique way with words, has anyone told you?"
Lo: "Yeah. Lots of times. Then I bash 'em with a magical hammer. It's great because it's imbued with a spell that means anything I hit actually heals instantly. The perfect murder! I can kill everyone without them actually dying. So they can't complain."
Zhuge: "That's disturbing sadistic."
Lo: "I did tell you how I wanna enslave my future husband, didn't I?"
Zhuge: "Indeed..."
Bride of Discharding, Council of Powerplayers
Discharding is a relatively small universe sequestered into a lonely corner of the Deep Void. It is far away from the NeSiverse, in fact from most other universes.
This does not stop its adventurous nobility from going out on safari to all manner of exotic locales through various cosms, however. Their civilization's reality-warping steampunk Engines(TM) enable all sorts of abilities for them that allow such sojourns with ease.
In Discharding's capital city - a city of towering skyscrapers in Gothic and Victorian architecture, with lots of steampunky doodads tacked on and all manner of fashionable zeppelins drifting lazily above on clouds of steam - even more pomp and circumstance than usual is now going on.
Ex-Marquis Rosslefot: I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.
Highemperor kisses his newest queen, the daughter of the Grand Duke Diggleton, and the crowd of assembled nobles cheers. Grand Duke Diggleton himself comes up and takes off the sash of his office, proffering it to Highemp, who takes it reverently.
Grand Duke Diggleton: I am past my titlespan, but due to our agnatic ways, I had no successor to pass my title onto - but you have proven worthy of my daughter's hand. Ladies and gentleman: the Highemperor of the High Empire, the new Grand Duke of House Diggleton, and my son-in-law!
The crowd erupts wildly in more cheers. Highemp dances with his newest wife and mingles before sweeping her away in his flagship, the Quantum Pantheon.
Queen Diggleton: My husband, your vessel is as magnificent on the inside as the outside!
Highemp: Thank you, my bride! Just watch the view as we depart!
The Quantum Pantheon zips through Discharding space towards the cosmic rim, and one of Highemp's underling powerplayers comes up.
Kim: Well done, your majesty! You've got nearly the majority of Discharding electoral votes now, in one fell swoop!
Queen Diggleton starts. Highemp facepalms.
Highemp: Kim...
Queen Diggleton: My lord! Do you mean to say that this is all a crafty plan to amass political influence in Discharding?
Highemp: Well, er, ahem, that is--
Queen Diggleton: That's bloody BRILLIANT!
Highemp: It is?
Kim: Of course it is! His Divine Majesty is the bestest!
Queen Diggleton: I see that!
She pats his cheek fondly. The vista outside changes to flaring light, then darkness as the Quantum Pantheon breaks out into the Deep Void between universes. Other universes are tiny specks of light and reality in the nothingness.
Queen Diggleton: But according to Discharding tradition, once you live out your natural lifespan, you must pass on the title and electoral votes to our son, despite our immortality. It's simply not fashionable to do otherwise, and if you're not fashionable, you will lose much influence.
Highemp: Well, it was fine for your father to hang onto it.
Queen Diggleton: Because he had no sons, and succession in Discharding is agnatic.
Highemp: Exactly. I'm... fixed... so I only have daughters.
Queen Diggleton: :O
Kim: Brilliant, eh?
Queen Diggleton: Indeed! So I see your clever plan enables you to be almost the sole determinant of our Sovereign every fifty years.
Highemp: Oh, that's only the beginning...
Queen Diggleton: Do tell? Perhaps in the bedroom, this talk of cleverness and scheming is making me rather... hot.
Highemp: Unfortunately, I prefer not to shag on this ship... QP is always watching.
Queen Diggleton: QP?
Highemp: This ship. The Quantum Pantheon. It's sentient.
Queen Diggleton blushes.
Queen Diggleton: Goodness me, that would be unseemly. Well, perhaps we should change topics for now, lest I become... undignified.
Highemp: Of course, my queen. What would you like to discuss?
Queen Diggleton: Where in the Deep Void is your capital?
She waves her arm at the viewport. Highemp grins.
Highemp: It's not.
Queen Diggleton: But everything is in the Deep Void!
Highemp: This is true.
Queen Diggleton: Then how...?
Highemp: There is more than merely 'everything'. More beyond the very concepts of 'all' that mere mortals can grasp. And even more beyond that level. Though universes are only islands in the dark sea of the Deep Void, the Deep Void itself is a mere mote in the incomprehensively vast ocean that is called 'Forever'. Well, the eggheads call it 'Anti-Existentessence', ever since the groundbreaking paper by Doctor Geb, the clone of a famous Storywielder.
He is idly conjuring images to illustrate his words, and Queen Diggleton watches in awe.
Queen Diggleton: You warp reality so easily, without the need for Engines(TM).
Highemp preens.
Highemp: I am a god, after all.
Queen Diggleton: Just so, my lord! But why ANTI-Existentessence?
[
b]Highemp:[/b] Well, it's due to the suprafluctual hyperstate of its metanatural paradigm.
His newest queen perks up with interest.
Queen Diggleton: You mean it's a metassociative magimatical ultracube that-- Oh dear me, I'm getting all hot again.
Kim just smiles and nods, having no idea what his emperor and his newest queen are talking about.
Highemp: Anyway, we powerplayers did the impossible, and created a demiplane that actually exists outside Forever, orbiting its rim. That is our capital, Urbis Imperia.
The Quantum Pantheon is hurtling at ever higher speeds, till it breaches the edge of the infinite Deep Void - a feat that by all rights should be impossible - and warps through a miasma that Queen Diggleton's mortal senses can only conceive of as bright colors. Shortly, the Quantum Pantheon arrives in the demiplanar city of Urbis Imperia, and the new queen gasps in awe.
Queen Diggleton: It is even more impressive than Discharding!
Six island mountains in a freshwater sea ring around a seventh, the tallest. Each is covered in marble and crystal spires, with gigantic arches and bridges connecting them.
Highemp: The six smaller mountains are topped with temples dedicated to my council, the High Pantheon of the Throne. The central one is topped with our Stronghold of Powerplayers, my grand cathedral, and your new home.
The Quantum Pantheon docks with the Stronghold, and Highemp carries his newest queen across the threshold, and begins whispering clever schemes seductively into her ear as he takes her to the odah.
High above, in the tallest tower of the palatial citadel, there is a meeting of the 6 powerplayers who are the greatest, save for Highemp and Imeryn.
Knightlord Thorn: I call this meeting to order.
Entity #1: Our illustrious majesty isn't here yet.
Entity #3: He's never here, always busy with his harem. If we waited for him all the time, we'd never get anything done.
Entity #4: As it is, our conquests are almost painfully slow without him to direct and authorize strategy.
Knightlord Thorn: Whoa, whoa, wait a second. Why are you all Entities now, instead of named?
Entity #5: My narrative is in flux again.
Entity #6: Yeah, mine too. Each new place we conquer brings fresh new ideas for my Mary Sue, so I'm sorting through that and remaking myself.
Entity #1: Honestly, I'm surprised you're not in flux yourself, Thorn.
Knightlord Thorn: I'm the Luminescence of a Thousand Dimensions, by definition I'm always in a sort of stable flux.
Entity #3: Clever.
Knightlord Thorn: I thought so.
The doors swing up, and Highemperor strides in triumphantly from the stairwell.
Highemp: By myself, that Discharding girl is a TIGRESS! :D
Entity #4: Another satisfactory conquest, then?
Highemp: Was there ever any doubt?
Entity #4: I suppose not.
[b]Entity #5:[b] I don't suppose you had any preliminary fun on QP.
Highemp fixes Entity #5 with a steely gaze.
Highemp: You are NOT getting any more porn of me.
Entity #5: Aw :(
Knightlord Thorn: If I may, we should look at our newly conquered areas, and which need consolidating.
Entity #6: Bah, just reinforce them with a strong Legions presence, they'll sort things out. I'd rather get on with conquering more.
Knightlord Thorn: It seems some of our appointed governors have been lax. Such as the one over Coaleeshion.
Highemp: That name sounds familiar...
Knightlord Thorn: It should. One of your nemeses comes from there. The imperial governor of that sector elevated the local nobility, gifting them with some of our crystal technology without sufficient training, and the result was a rebel godling who killed most of those nobility.
Highemp: It's a backwater, even if Lo came from there. Send a single cruiser, that should be enough to pacify it. And fire that governor.
Entity #1: Aw, can't we execute him?
Highemp: You know how I feel about arbitrary executions.
Entity #1: Yes, m'lord.
Knightlord Thorn: Ordinarily I would agree that a single cruiser would be far more than sufficient to pacify a backwater outlier, but Coaleeshion's unique leashes offer a number of hidden refuges and escape routes--
A crystal in a slot along the wall flashes brightly, with an accompanying beep.
Highemp: What is it, Kim?
The crystal projects a holographic image of the mentally challenged powerplayer, who speaks.
Kim: The Sixteen Sisters of Serleria request... audience, my lord. They say it's been months since they've had, er, a conjugal visit.
Highemp perks up eagerly, but Knightlord Thorn forestalls him with a raised hand.
Knightlord Thorn: If I may be so bold, perhaps we should finish this meeting first? At least the highlights.
Highemp: Oh very well.
Kim gulps, blushing.
Kim: Um, my lord, their message said to tell you they're ovulating.
Highemp rushes out of the room before Knightlord Thorn can react. Thorn facepalms.
Entity #5: The Sixteen Sisters of Serleria have a bit of an exhibitionist streak. Perhaps I can convince them to share some footage--
Entity #3: Let's get back to matters at hand. If a single cruiser isn't enough for Coaleeshion, it can always request backup.
Entity #4: Right, because no navitatex is too proud to admit it if he couldn't pacify a single backwater...
Entity #3: Whatever. What should we conquer next?
A few hours later, the council is deep into war strategy, when Highemp comes back in.
Entity #1: Welcome back, my lord. We've just conquered a galaxy in the Jiexez universe. Tech level 6, magic level 9.
Highemp: Awesomesauce! How big of a force did we need?
Entity #1: Three gamma-sized task forces.
Highemp: Bah, make it two next time.
Knightlord Thorn: Feasible, but would take much longer, particularly with a galaxy that advanced.
Highemp: Yeah, but we gotta prove how superior we are! Even a single cruiser can overwhelm an enemy fleet! And all that.
Knightlord Thorn: One task force is remaining in said galaxy for consolidation purposes. Where should we send the other two?
Highemp: I was thinking--
There is another flash and beep from the communications crystal, and Highemp looks at it.
Highemp: What is it, Kim?
Kim: It's the Arithmancy Guild. They're contributing to the codification of imperial magitech principles, and request audience for your esteemed input.
Highemp: Send them in!
Several figures in mage robes and shaved heads shuffle in, bearing thick tomes and recording crystals. They bow and scrape obsequiously.
Highemp: Rise, my friends. Yours is a noble profession.
Arithmancer: Thank you, your most divine majesty! Though we have nearly completed our compilated mathemagical principles for the Codex Imperius, we are divided as to which is the most sacred and powerful of numerals, the one that takes precedence over all others as the most mystical.
Knightlord Thorn: Seven, obviously. Many universes, including Urbis Imperia, took seven periods of time to create, or consist of timelines divided into seven eras. It's also the number of this High Pantheon plus his divine majesty.
Entity #1: I disagree. Three is a great number of trinities and tribunals and triforces.
Entity #3: Duality is more essential than three. And one more essential than that!
Entity #6: One could argue that zero is the most essential of all, but I say twelve is the most mystical.
Entity #4: I say four.
Entity #1: Because you're totally not biased by your given Entity numbering.
Entity #5: You're all wrong! It's totally 69!
There is an awkward silence.
Entity #5: Er, I mean five. I heard Highemperor say he liked that number a while ago.
The arithmancer coughs delicately.
Arithmancer: Would his most divine majesty be willing to settle things?
Highemp: Of course! Those are all powerful numbers - except perhaps 69--
Everyone pointedly looks away from Entity #5.
Highemp: --but the greatest is 25!
The powerplayers look at him with interest.
Knightlord Thorn: Why 25? I've never heard of that having any mystical significance before, except to the gods of penguins and the concept of left.
Highemp: 25 is the ultimate synthesis of the greatest numbers: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 7, and 12. Take the digits, 2 and 5. Those are two of the numbers right there. Then add and subtract them. Five minus two is 3, and five plus two is 7. Twenty-four (which is two 12s) plus one is 25. Twelve plus twelve plus one. And twelve itself is 4 times 3.
The other powerplayers are stunned by his genius. Although perhaps only powerplayers would consider that crazy logic to be genius.
Highemp: Shut up, Eternius!
Arithmancer: My lord! Truly we are in awe of your boundless wisdom! We shall enter it into the Codex!
The comm crystal beeps again. At Highemp's reply, Kim's image is projected again.
Kim: Your majesty, Harem Queen #87 requests a conjugal visit.
Highemp: I'm there! Did I say 25 was the best? I meant 87!
And then he is gone, leaving the arithmancers to shuffle out in some confusion, with a new debate over the merits of 25 versus 87.
Entity #5: Wow, he just raced to her. She didn't even have to say she was ovulating.
Knightlord Thorn: She is one of his favorites. Was the first love of his youth, before being tragically murdered by a terrible villain.
Entity #4: Oooh, nice narrative!
Knightlord Thorn: Happily, he resurrected her when he ascended to the throne of the Stronghold of Powerplayers. He was unshackled from his angst when his incarnate Potential was killed far away.
Entity #1: Little misogynist though. His first love, yet she has no name, only a number?
Entity #5: Less misogyny and more following a humorous pattern set down by the traditions of his narrative origin!
Knightlord Thorn: Regardless, it is somewhat misogynistic, but let's be real - he already has a harem of loyal loving wives who are devoted to him; just giving them all unique names isn't going to make it any less misogynistic.
Entity #3: And Captain Lo, from the pantheon of our adversaries, has a harem of devoted male lovers! So there!
Entity #1: Blatant misandry doesn't make blatant misogyny okay!
Entity #5: And yet you've shagged Highemp. Several times.
Entity #1: Well, I-- wait, how do you know that? Were you taping us???
Entity #5: Er... would it help if I said no?
The End has come to Indra
Theme:[I] Somewhere Only We Know
--
Being on the Jaravinjia Isles meant the two litiks, Map and Rjingi, could be picked up by Ishvat again. After they were quickly healed by Kara Fahran, the surfing god carried the both of them upon her back. What should have taken at least three months, took them a single day - their journey to The Tandras mountain range in the northern hemisphere of the planet. The warm waters of the Jaravinjia Isles soon gave way to the open ocean that spans the planet and the two of them held onto the god's back as tight as they could. Once Map slipped off but Ishvat, with a highly entertained mood, grabbed him and tosses him into the air so he'd land on her again.
The two of them tried not to look back and stare at her tails.
Once they were back on dry land they bade Ishvat farewell and she made her way back to warmer climes while the two men bought supplies and warm gear from a local village that rested along the shoreline. After a rest Map and Rjingi headed for their long hike up The Tandras.
Despite being on the top of a mountain, in the blistering cold, Bernard the Clay-Pidgeon somehow managed to find them and relayed a message from Duke Nari that the aliens were now under his case and that they were safe. Rjingi made a reply, apologising for the aggressive events on the Jaravinjia Isles. They are satisfied that, at least, there is a contingency plan involving the aliens, however they desperately resume their climb towards Kolaji - the short mountain at the centre of the mountain range and the home of Trijara. Or rather, in this month, Namesh.
Trijara, Namesh. Two gods that inhabit the same presence. Namesh, however, only transcends from the physical manifestation of Trijara during this single month of the year. Upon the lapse of the new year, Trijara would be reborn again. They had to hurry. Trijara, for all his wisdom, had not the expansive wisdom of the universe. Unlikes Namesh.
As they finally reach the path to Kolaji they stare up in awe. Above the mountain is a swirling, though lazy, storm of black mist and through it they can see stars and void - despite being surrounded by the morning light of Indra's sky. The ice temple itself is gone, replaced by a large simple block of void and stars. A single, large opening, reveals the normal interior of Kolaji, its ice floors and redvine coated walls. At the end of the temple where they might once have seen the red-skinned Trijara they now see the black and starry incorporeal figure of Namesh, floating upon one of his light discs in the lotus position. It is said to be a crime against the gods to disturb Namesh during his meditation and any wisdom granted an Indran by this god would result in the instant death of any who attempt to hold this bestowed wisdom in their primitive mortal minds.
And yet they have no choice. It is death or death.
They near him and begin to kowtow. But before they have even gotten on their knees Namesh speaks aloud, his voice soft and quiet - almost a whisper.
Namesh: "It cannot be done."
Litik Rjingi: "You mean--"
Namesh doesn't even open his eyes or his mouth, his voice projects straight into their minds.
Namesh: "The end of this world will come. I shall survive."
Litik Rjingi: "I expected the gods to survive this but--"
Namesh: "They will not."
Litik Map: "Wh-what? Even... even the gods will--?"
Namesh: "Especially the gods."
The two of them look at each other uncomprehendingly. Before they could ask further questions, Namesh interjects;
Namesh: "It comes for them. The destruction of you and your world is merely collateral damage."
Litik Rjingi is the first to attempt a protest.
Litik Rjingi: "The aliens! Couldn't they help us--"
Namesh: "They would be destroyed too. They would become targets of the God Killer. The Meta Destructor. The Uber Consumer. The machine that uses anti-power."
Litik Rjingi: "Anti-power? Like, ah, anti-matter? But power? Right?"
Namesh: "Right. It consumes all power, of every kind. An individual's power. A kara. A litik. A magician. A cybernetic. A deity. A powerplayer. A wyrd. A Writer. A creator--"
Words that the two Indrans do not understand, cannot comprehend, wash over them. All that Rjingi can understand is that they are going to die - because of the gods. The gods he has served his entire life. Everyone on the planet, believing they would help them and protect them, are now the cause of their demise. He can't understand how this can be fair.
Namesh: "The Multiverse cares not for fairness."
He then falls quiet but his eyes open.
Namesh: "It is here."
A terrible cracking sound erupts over the mountains. Snow, perched on those peaks for decades, suddenly shifts and falls. Rjingi runs out of the temple and sees avalanches all around him but his eyes ultimately move up. Now that the noise is over he uncovers his ears and stands there, dumbfounded. He's too in amazement to be terrified. Yet.
It appears like a great, black rainbow. It sweeps across the sky.
Inside, Namesh rises slowly from the bottom of the temple.
Namesh: "I shall leave before the consumption begins. Once started, no being, no matter how powerful they think they are and no matter how far the run, will be drawn back into its jaws. Your people, litik, may live on. Kara Pashna takes, even now, the DNA of your people to safety. Sleep in peace."
He rises up and floats straight through the ceiling of the temple. Litik Map feels a tear drip down his face. Pesu brought Pashna back to life after all...
Rjingi sees Namesh slip through the black storm above the temple and it zips closed. Then there is another boom. The machine has moved and he realises that it must be a complete circle, not just a rainbow. The boom blasts out, first hitting Brethrain. It's then that everything makes sense to Rjingi. Brethrain is not a planet. It is a god. And now it is being sucked up into the white-hole of oblivion that has opened up at the centre of the circular construct. It's being drawn in, atom-by-atom, stretched and elongated by the reality-power warping nature of the white-hole. The planet Indra stands unphased, unaffacted. It is not a powerplayer, a god, a magician or anything else that Namesh listed. It's just a planet.
If only Brethrain hadn't been there...
As the moon-god is consumed, Indra begins to slow and the affect is almost instant. Rjingi's gut squirms.
---
Kara Fahran feels himself being tugged and pulled, his very being, or something within his being, is being dragged up and away from the planet towards the white-hole in space. He sees Rakimi, likewise, stretched out and her atoms dispersing. Somewhere, out in the ocean, is Ishvat also dematerialising.
---
The Indrans of Indrakata cry out in anguish, their terror of the great machine in the sky is replaced by the horror of seeing their beloved Maharashtak being drawn, pulled and blasted into pieces - her once never-ending smile of serenity is gone.
Then the planet Indra begins to crack with the strain.
---
Kamal: "Pesu, you should have left..."
Pesu: "Indra and its people are my children... I would not live without them..."
Jitarayara: "But Kara Pashna needs--"
Pesu: "I sense that Namesh has already left. He will--"
The god's words are lost to the physical, the metaphysical and the conceptual realms as everything about his being is consumed. Any future he may have had written is lost. While he is known to have existed, his time, space, power have been snuffed out. Unable to change course of time once the process has begun, they are now one with the anti-power.
---
Opantid watches her body elongate and disintegrate. The other invaders have come at last. And yet one being has come home.
She sees the lands break and crack from strain, she can feel her children of the world crying with sorrow, screaming with agony, roaring with anger. Then they are silenced as the planet unfolds on itself, breaking up, its atmosphere sweeping into space.
Opantid doesn't mind where she is going, what is happening to her existence, because it feels like home. Kavili came home.
The End has come to Indra.
---
See CatH Post 68 for the continuation.
The Clash of the 'Ages (of the day)
Marvels beyond mortal understanding sprawl all across the High Empire's capital of Urbis Imperia: restaurants serve exotic cuisines fill hungers and palettes one never knew could be filled, museums and monuments excite the mind with displays of profound history and philosophies, and parks instill soul-shaking experiences of tranquility and beauty. As with any empire, though, one needs more baser entertainment to pacify and distract the masses...
Random Audience Member #25: "Wow, the R.A.M. Union back on Earth weren't kidding -- this place is huge!"
A hovering, spherical droid halts in front of R.A.M. #25, noticing the telling signs of a tourist. It waves a laser-fan over R.A.M. #25 before projecting a hologram which materializes into the form of an overly-pleasant human female.
hologram woman: "Hello, and welcome to Urbis Imperia, the crowning jewel of the High Empire! My name is Holly! May I help you?"
Random Audience Member #25: "Yeah, is this The Arena?"
Holly: "The venue before you is none other than the Forever-Famous Imperia Amphitheater! The Imperia Amphitheater encompasses the same size as the High Empire's proud galactic carriers and holds a carrying capacity of a select hundred and forty-four thousand from each of the four corners of Forever! The Imperia Amphitheater hosts countless sporting events, musical concerts, and of course, the highest and most exciting of contests, The Clash of the 'Ages! The contest, held every day--"
Random Audience Member #25: "So the clash is here? I have a ticket for today's event, but I was told it was at the Arena. Or something-Arena. Did it move here?"
Holly's usual over-the-top chipperness sours a bit.
Holly "The Imperia Amphitheater goes by many names, and some of the... (ahem) common people have taken to calling it the more...charming name of the "Interdimensional Arena" instead."
She uses her fingers to air-quote "Interdimensional Arena" with forced pleasantness.
Random Audience Member #25: "That was it! So this is the place then. Can you tell me about this clash? My union assigned me to this place rather spur-of-the-moment, apparently because I'm #25 and had been given the ticket from you guys? Is there fighting?"
Holly stares in suppressed surprise at R.A.M. #25's apparent ignorance, and quickly pulls herself back into her overly-friendly self.
Holly: "You are very lucky indeed, for the Highemperor has declared the number twenty-five to be the most important of all numbers -- fortune smiles upon you to bear witness to a Clash in person! Deities across the multiverses normally pay priceless treasures of several superclusters and wait for thousands of millennia for the same opportunity as you -- all for the benefit of our contestants, of course. We wish to ensure that the contestants are rewarded deservingly to match the honor of competing."
The holographic woman holds her hand out to present, and more holographic images appear to emphasis the points as she makes them.
Holly: "Traditionally, the Clash of the 'Ages pits one contestant against another in a duel to the brink of death. One of the esteemed Powerplayer Councilpersons typically presiding over the event will determine the environment and rules of engagement for the contestants before declaring the start of the clash. Once a victor emerges, the Councilperson grants or denies permission to the victor the honor of executing their opponent."
As Holly explains the event, Random Audience Member #25 only pays mild attention, often glancing at other passerbys or nearby sights. Holly continues apparently unperturbed.
Holly: "There are eight tiers of combatants, with the eighth as the lowest and first as the highest. Should a combatant defeat the reigning champion of a particular tier, they may choose to compete in the next rank higher. Few have had the honor of challenging the unofficial Clash Champion and Powerplayer Councilperson Entity #6, addressed currently as Cary S-- as Elinb-- as.....yes, as Aryst Omnistellae, Best in All the Stars."
Random Audience Member #25: "So Aryst is the top of tier one, I take it?"
Holly: "Of course not. The top tier is reserved for our official champion, and ruler of the High Empire himself, the Highemperor. None have challenged him, and none will. None need to, for even the champions of tiers below five find rewards beyond their dreams. Now, may I direct you to your seat? The next Clash will begin within the hour, and it should prove to be a most exciting Tier Six battle between Gigagod and Teradeity."
Random Audience Member #25:: "Yeah, sure. Can we swing by the bar for a drink first? Oh, and where are the toilets?"
The holographic woman's smile ticks in annoyance as she bows to wave towards the proper direction.
Holly: "Right this way."
Secret Weapon Against the God-Killer
Knightlord Thorn: I call this meeting to order. Where is Highemp?
Entity #1: Shagging his harem.
Knightlord Thorn: Why do I even ask?
Aryst Omnistellae, Best in All the Stars: So what's this meeting about? You're interrupting the match between Gigagod and Teradeity!
Knightlord Thorn: Do you REALLY have to have your whole title in dialogue preface?
Aryst Omnistellae, Best in All the Stars: Do you REALLY have to ask?
Knightlord Thorn: Right... so as some of you may have heard, the Imperium has unleashed its ultimate weapon!
Entity #5 gasps in horror.
Entity #5: Anti-Porn Censorship?!
The other powerplayer gods roll their eyes.
Knightlord Thorn: Not quite that bad.
Entity #5: Whew!
Entity #3: You refer to the God-Killer Machine, do you not? We've received intelligence reports of it before. The Supreme Superweapons Division has a whole project devoted to countering or one-upping it.
Entity #4: Wait, have they actually used the God-Killer in our territory?
Knightlord Thorn: Near it, at any rate. In the same galaxy as one of our backwaters. To be fair, they already hold some territory in the same galaxy. Ironically, this galaxy that's a backwater for both of our empires is the primary staging ground for our... political disagreements.
Entity #3: Hmm. I will order the Supreme Superweapons Division to kick their anti-GKM project into high gear.
Entity #5: I'm never one to back away from one-upping an opponent, but is that really necessary? Surely Highemp can defeat the God-Killer Machine, despite its terrible anti-power.
Knightlord Thorn: I believe that you are correct, but the effort and time spent in concentration that he would expend to do so would leave the High Empire vulnerable.
Aryst Omnistellae, Best in All the Stars: I'll take your order to the Supreme Superweapons Division myself, Entity #3 - and I'll join in their work!
Knightlord Thorn: That will not be necessary. I already have a solution. One so blindingly obvious that no one will conceive of it. I admit, it will unsettle you.
Entity #1: Nothing could unsettle me more than knowing that Entity #5 taped me shagging Highmp. Bring it on.
Knightlord Thorn: The God-Killer Machine destroys all sources of great power: gods, wyrds, you name it. So what we need to counter it... is an army of Average Joes.
Other Powerplayer Gods: :O
Aryst Omnistellae, Best in All the Stars: Inconceivable!
Entity #4: You keep saying that word. I do not think it means what you think it means.
Aryst Omnistellae, Best in All the Stars: What are you talking about? That's the first time I said it.
Entity #4: Nevermind.
Entity #5: Do we even HAVE Average Joes in the High Empire?
Entity #1: Pfft, we can go conquer some.
Knightlord Thorn: Conquest would leave any potential recruits in tatters and not very willing to fight for us until a long period of assimilation had occurred. Fortunately, we already have a place that has been part of our territory for a long time, but is not yet completely assimilated. A backwater.
Entity #3: I can see where this is going. The Milky Way? Coaleashion?
Aryst Omnistellae, Best in All the Stars: Wait, is that where we sent that idiot Kim? If we want a good army out of there, we should recall him and send someone capable.
Knightlord Thorn: Unfortunately, any powerplayer more capable that we might send will subvert our very purpose, turning Average Joe recruits into elite powered troopers, and that will make them vulnerable to the God-Killer Machine. No, Proconsul Kim is the only way we can procure such an army intact, free from powerplaying.
Entity #1: I see. Very well, I'll send him the orders immediately. And CC it to his rather-more-competent second-in-command...
The Secret of Cool Matty's Power
Circa 1,000,000 B.C. Atlantis, founded merely a few decades ago, is already a flourishing town. Its clay and wooden structures are rapidly being replaced by marble and orichalchum. The first building to receive the renovations is the very first structure built - the Temple of the WriterGod, constructed by Templemont the Builder, one of the city's 12 founders.
Luros the Magician, another founder, watches somewhat disconsolately from the bottom of the hill, as stone walls are torn down to be replaced by orichalcum. The 13 pillars of the inner sanctum - powerful and mysterious hedrons that Luros had discovered upon arriving here - remain untouched in the renovation, as their jet-black surfaces scroll with green glyphs.
Tailor Darji: Why so glum, Luros?
Magician Luros: I've contributed nothing to this city.
Tailor Darji: Don't be a fool. Of course you've contributed. Why, those very sacred hedrons were your discovery, and your idea to implement into the temple's inner sanctum.
Magician Luros: I was simply the first to cast eyes upon them. They are not my doing. Whereas Builder Templemont is constructing these grand edifices. Farmer Zin reaps prosperous crops and created the hybrid plants that beautify this city.
He gestures to the lovely snowblossom trees everywhere.
Magician Luros: Even Possipher has outdone me. A Cakemaker!
Tailor Darji: You know he prefers the term Baker.
Magician Luros: Whatever. Half the reason this place is so prosperous is from his crazy-delicious banana-crème Oreo knockoffs. And then Lawyer Simon fended off that wacky copyright deity about those. Every one of us founders has contributed. Except me.
Tailor Darji: It's my understanding that there's a massive magical nexus here. Couldn't you tap into that, if you feel your achievements aren't enough?
Magician Luros: The ultranexus. Most powerful concentration of magic ever known. Yes, I could, but then that wouldn't be me. I have little magic of my own. I'm a trickster by trade, not a wizard. Even the bard Shadi has more magic than me.
Tailor Darji: So create your OWN nexus. Wouldn't that be a trick worth doing?
Magician Luros stops and stares at Darji.
Magician Luros: That would be an impressive feat indeed...if it could be done!
Tailor Darji sees the wheels turning in the magician's mind, and smiles, leaving him to his own devices. Luros summons Scientist Renat and Poet Shadi the Sha'ir - two more of the city's 12 founders - to the inner sanctum of the Temple of the WriterGod.
Scientist Renat: It is a bold proposal you make, Luros. But my elemental calculus backs up your theory. With the right vessel, it could be done.
Poet Shadi the Sha'ir: Of course it can be done. We are favored by the WriterGod, after all. But the question is, why? For no other reason than to sate your ego, Luros?
Magician Luros: That's why I'm doing it...but there's a better reason for why you should.
Poet Shadi the Sha'ir: And that is?
Magician Luros: Thus far our great city is highly advanced in trade and wealth, architecture and flora, and science and the arts. But we lack in magic. Yes, we have the ultranexus, but lack the learning and the craft. This deed that I propose will solidfy our place as masters of wizardry, and mark the beginning of our superiority in that art.
Shadi the Sha'ir strokes his beard thoughtfully. The glyphs of the hedrons keep scrolling around them, and the poet sees a symmetry in them that speaks to his soul.
Poet Shadi the Sha'ir: Very well, Luros. I will sing the chants you propose.
Scientist Renat: You must acquire a proper vessel first.
Luros smiles.
Magician Luros: I already have. Come out, Matsu.
A young gangly man, with a staff strapped to his back, steps out from behind one of the hedron pillars. He bows respectfully to the three. Scientist Renat regards him inquisitively, pulling out his abacus and performing calculations on the fly. Poet Shadi the Sha'ir merely looks in the young man's eyes, taking the measure of his spirit.
After a moment, both men agree to this Matsu's ability to act as vessel.
Magician Luros: Then let us begin. Matsu, if you would stand here.
The young man nods obediently and stands before the altar of the WriterGod, putting his back to it as he faces the three men, priests in Atlantis - a priest of science, a priest of words, and a priest of magic. Poet Shadi the Sha'ir begins chanting, as Scientist Renat produces an astrolabe.
But the bulk of the task falls to Magician Luros.
Magician Luros: WriterGod be with me...
He plunges his metaphorical hand into the heart of the ultranexus that beats around them, here in the sanctum of the WriterGod's Grand Temple. It seems like such a simple act, yet it is a delicate and complex operation he performs. Finally, after several long minutes, he withdraws his metaphorical hand...and opens his real hand.
A tiny spark of flame flickers in his palm. A single spark of pure magic, drawn from the heart of the ultranexus.
Magician Luros: Open your mouth, Matsu, and swallow.
The young man obeys, and Luros drops the spark into his throat, and Matsu swallows. Sweat breaks out on his face, as his body adjusts to the influx of power. Even a single spark of this great ultranexus floods him with energy.
Magician Luros: How do you feel?
Matsu: As though I never need to sleep again...
Luros smiles as Poet Shadi the Sha'ir stops chanting.
Magician Luros: Perfect.
Poet Shadi the Sha'ir: Taking a single spark of the ultranexus and imbuing a person with it is quite a feat, but that does not a new ultranexus make.
Scientist Renat: But it will, over centuries.
Magician Luros: Or millennia. That spark is merely a seed. It will grow within Matsu, and he will pass it on to his first child, and then it will grow within him or her, and so on down the generations. Every generation, the passed-on spark will flare brighter in their blood, until at last it is an ultranexus in its own right.
Scientist Renat: An alchemy of blood and fire.
Poet Shadi the Sha'ir: That's almost poetic. I approve.
Magician Luros claps his hands in glee, and puts his arm around Matsu, leading the young man outside.
Scientist Renat: That was a potent deed the magician performed...but it does not make him learned in the wizard's craft.
Poet Shadi the Sha'ir: No, but it set him on that path. It did what was needed. It gave him confidence.
Bad News For The Highmucky One
Nearby the center of the Milky Way galaxy, smack-dab in the middle of very significant space travel routes of at least seven galactic superpowers, there exists a planet that can be best described as "fat" behind its back. And on this planet, the High Muckity-Mucks loaf around in their self-importance. After all, when all these other galactic superpowers attempted to stake claim to the planet Muq at the same time, and the god-king of the Muckity-Mucks (the Highmuckity One) proclaimed its conquest over all that stepped in the Highmuckity Hegemony, the other superpowers just sort of rolled their eyes and went with it. Incidentally, the Highmuckity One, despite being a sentient sludge like the rest of its kind, often "parades" (flops) among Very Important Powers and "adventures" (farts) through interdimensional time and space. And such tales, long ago, involved one Master Arkng Thand, who at the time served as a scholarly advisor to the Highmuckity One's campaign against the Sponge Syndicate.
On this day, however, the Highmuckity One received a letter from Master Arkng Thand. Being a literal glob with no means to read such a letter on its own, and far too important to sully its...stubs... with reading the letter itself, the Highmuckity One had its servant -- a human delegate from Terra Flux -- read the letter for it.
The Highmuckity One: "Wahwahrumrahrum!"
servant: "Yes, your Excellency, the letter is, in fact, from a Master Arkng Thand. Shall I read it?"
The Highmuckity One: "fffffft."
servant: "Very good. The letter reads:
Quote:
To The Highmuckity One,
If you are reading this letter, I regret to inform you that I, Arkng Thand, no longer live. As my final request to your Muckitiness, I humbly ask only that my obituary may include my service to your greatness.
Long live the Highmuckity One.
Sincerely,
Arkng Thand'
...and that's all it says."
The Highmuckity One: "Rahwah?"
servant: "I believe the letter means to say that this Thand person has died, your Majesty. Shall I proclaim your rightful reign over all through this man's obituary, then?"
The Highmuckity One: "Fbllbllblblblaaaaaah!"
servent: "Very good, your Muckitiness."
Space Camelot: Council of War
Arthur: War! At last, a chance to conquer something!
Sir Bedivere: Sire, I am not sure if it is...wise... to involve ourselves. The Jupiterians clearly are not. I believe they used the term 'domestic affair'.
Lancelot: We are honor-bound to intervene! Betrayal of the blackest order has been employed! As holy servants of God, we must repay these traitors!
Mordred: Even though it's not US they betrayed?
Mordred's comment is muttered, and mostly ignored by the others.
Arthur: Excellent! Then we can take over the G-Kryptons' territory!
Mordred wonders why anyone would want to conquer land in this smelly, puke-colored world, but knows such a sentiment will likely be ignored.
Sir Bedivere: I am more interested in their technology than their territory. Swords made of... I am not certain what.
Mordred: They called them lasers.
Bedivere: And those handheld contraptions that spat green globs at us.
Lancelot: You and Merlin can study all of the swords and contraptions you want - snatch them from the dead hands of our traitorous foes!
Black Knight: I will gladly take two of these laser swords to replace my broken ones. I don't suppose they come in curved varieties?
Faerie Knight: Odd technology it may be, but one thing I am certain of - that amulet that Gamma Pans had, it is magic. I could feel it. Alien, murky, but distinctly mystical.
Morganna: All magic away from Earth is murky. The land of Earth was hearty and strong. The void and these alien lands less so. I say we bombard these G-Kryptons and be done with it.
Arthur: Bombard?
Morganna: Yes, brother dear, that Jupiterian ***** was pointing out powerful energy catapults that our vessel is equipped with. She called them 'turbo cannons'.
Lancelot: Pah! There is no honor in that. Justice must be meted out face to face!
Bedivere: Bombardment carries less risk...but also less reward. Obliteration from orbit will destroy any technology we wish to retrieve for study.
Arthur: It's decided then. We will fight alongside the X-Kryptons!
Galahad: Morganna, can you enchant my sword? I don't want more broken weapons.
Morganna: Enchantment is not an easy or alacritous art, simpleton. It takes time and energy to imbue an object with great magic.
Mordred: Yet the Kryptons have laser swords in plentiful amounts.
Bediverse: Science, not magic. If you recall from our discussion with them before the raid, they have something called 'industrial factories', which can produce objects, including weapons, in great quantities at speed.
Arthur's eyes gleam at this information.
Arthur: I could equip an army with these laser swords and liquid armors!
Mordred: I daresay that learning this industrial science should be our top priority in this war.
Lancelot: You mean other than justice, of course!
Mordred: Whatever helps you sleep at night.
Lancelot looks confused.
Lancelot: What do pretty wenches have to do with justice?
Space Camelot: Battlefield of Saturn
Space Camelot: Battlefield of Saturn
Characters: King Arthur | Queen Guinevere | Sir Lancelot | Sir Bedivere | Sir Kay | Prince Mordred | Sir Galahad | (Sir) The Black Knight | (Sir) The Faerie Knight | Tom a'Lincoln | Morganna le Fay | Merlin the Younger | Andy | Admiral Ltexi | Gamma Pans | Omega Wier
The Knights of the Round Table group into formations, surrounded by several hundred soldiers. While the common soldiers are on foot, the knights are sat atop of their respective steeds. The horses had to be calmed down after becoming quite agitated at being transported through space and dumped on an alien world. Now, however, the horses are ready for the battle to come, holding their riders aloft.
At the fore of the battle is King Arthur himself. Through the visor of his space-helmet he can see the enemy city. Beside him sits Gamma Pans, Custodian for the X-Kryptons, who glances at the exalted king meekly.
King Arthur: "You're not afraid are you?"
Gamma: "No! No, that's not it. I'm... overwhelmed, is all."
King Arthur glances down the lines of soldiers and knights until he sees the X-Krypton force. A bunch of men and women on foot totalling around thirty. Arthur purses his lips.
King Arthur: "Yeah... I can see why. Sorry, I was expecting a more..."
He makes a 'large' gesture with his hands.
King Arthur: "Epic battle of... epicness."
Gamma: "Honestly, I sort of thought it was going to be... 'epic' with just thirty! I thought I'd be the impressive one. I've never imagined an army of... so... so many."
Arthur feels his ego swell and is very pleased with this awe of this alien man. Unfortunately Arthur is a terrible liar at the best of times and the rest of the time he blurts out truths before he can stifle them;
King Arthur: "This is nothing really. There's way, way bigger armies out there. Byzantines - that's what's left of Rome these days - they have thousands. There's a country in the far East, China I think, they've got... unimaginable numbers. Like, crazy numbers!"
Gamma's eyes bulge in horror.
King Arthur: "Relax though. It's not numbers that win wars. It strategy."
Gamma nods in appreciation.
Gamma: "Wise words."
King Arthur: "Aye. That's why I have clever people around me to do all the strategising."
Gamma: "Oh..."
King Arthur: "I did notice there's no walls around this city... is there a magical barrier of some sort?"
Gamma raises an eyebrow.
Gamma: "No? I hadn't thought of putting a wall around the city. That's pretty clever."
King Arthur: "Oh... do you think their numbers will be about..."
He again glances down the line. Several of the X-Kryptons have started sitting on the floor and were merrily chomping on biscuits, Custodian Omega Wier amongst them. Arthur winces with annoyance.
King Arthur: "...the same numbers?"
Gamma: "Probably a few more. It depends on whether the people intend to stand by their Custodians."
King Arthur: "Riiiiiiight. So... this will probably be a... fairly easy fight?"
He looks a little disappointed - but not as disappointed as Sir Lancelot further down the line. Before Gamma Pans can reply Arthur has pointed to the amulet hanging around the alien's neck. It appears to be made from gold with a red gemstone at its centre. Arthur is an excellent judge of gemstones, being something of a hoarder of them, and reckons its imperial topaz. Rare. Expensively rare.
King Arthur: "This is the amulet Faerie Knight was impressed by. Do you think the enemy has a few of these?"
Gamma: "I hope not! For the sake of our soldiers!"
Arthur casts a fleeting eye at his soldiers.
King Arthur: "Right! Me too! But it would make a more... epic battle if they do have these amulets, wouldn't it!?"
Gamma: "Does epic mean deadly?"
King Arthur: "...sort of."
Gamma: "I doubt they have anything like this."
King Arthur: "Ohhh..."
He tries not to sound disappointed. He's as bad at feigning lies as he is at wording them.
Gamma: "This is an amulet from the heavens."
Arthur perks up.
King Arthur: "God bestowed it on you!?"
Gamma: "You humans talk about this God person often. Does he go around bestowing gifts often?"
King Arthur nods.
King Arthur: "More than He probably should, yes."
Gamma: "Oh... then perhaps he did give it to us--"
King Arthur: "It's a capital 'H'."
Gamma: "What?"
King Arthur: "Uh... nothing. So where did you get it? It just dropped out of the sky?"
Gamma: "Exactly. I wasn't there, mind, so this is just a legend as far as I know. My ancestors were fortunate enough to be sailing on a lake when there was a great calamity in the skies above the planet. Then it blasted down to the planet and dropped to the bottom of the lake. My ancestor went down after it and now it's passed down through our generations to me. My child will take it after me one day."
Arthur's estimations of the amulet's value sky-rockets in his head and he stares at it greedily.
King Arthur: "And nobody has tried to take it from you? Or your ancestors?"
Gamma: "Sure. But it's a powerful weapon in the right hands."
Voice: "So my son tells me."
The two of them turn to the new voice. The woman is short, perhaps four foot, and has long, wild hair. Curly at the ends and matted, her unkempt hair is stark white and frizzy. Morganna had decided the look as 'dragged through a hedge backwards' once. Arthur liked to think of it as 'untamed'. Aside from her stark white hair is her very pale skin, which is only offset by the constantly pink cheeks and the very tip of her nose. She has a cute face, rounded and with a button nose. Her eyes are large, just a little too large to be human, and the irises are pink.
As though to match her eyes and cheeks, the woman has dyed the tips of her white her equally pink. Yet to offset the pink she wears a thick cloak of light blue with white-fur trim. The hood, which is now up, has two long 'ears' that hang down her back. Beneath the cloak is the hint of silver-armour, though its clearly much lighter than most knights wear.
Even Gamma Pans could tell that this woman wasn't like most humans. The humans know she isn't human at all.
King Arthur: "Gamma Pans, this is Sir Caelia."
Caelia: "Don't call me Sir. Just call me Caelia."
King Arthur: "It's your title. Please use it."
Caelia: "If you have to call me by a title, use Lady. I'm not a man!"
King Arthur: "Sir isn't just for men! It's a title! Stop being sexist!"
Caelia: "Against myself?"
King Arthur: "Uh... yes?"
Gamma: "It's nice to meet you Lady Caelia."
She gives Arthur a smug smirk and Arthur scowls at Gamma.
King Arthur: "Don't you start to indulge her too."
Caelia: "Your amulet, Gamma Pans, it is magical. Powerful too. In fact, I doubt you've even unlocked its full potential..."
She, unlike everyone else, is riding her own unique steed. A gigantic, white-furred dire wolf. The beast has hulking shoulders and powerful legs, giving it plenty of strength to carry the small woman. The wolf stands at half the height of Arthur's horse but if it came down to a fight, Arthur would be burying his precious mount within seconds. The wolf pads around Arthur, directed by Caelia through, as Arthur knew, a telepathic communication the woman shares with the beast.
Even atop the wolf, Caelia is barely much taller than Gamma Pans.
Gamma: "I had heard my ancestors had done much greater deeds with it than I've managed to do. If I'm honest, I don't use it very much."
Caelia: "I had noticed your people are much more peaceful than the humans of Earth."
When Gamma raises a curious eyebrow, Caelia adds;
Caelia: "No, I am not human. I am a faerie, born in the realm of Albion. I just live on Earth. You met my son already. He was the one wearing pink."
King Arthur: "Ha, gaaaaaaay!"
Gamma and Caelia frown at Arthur, evidently not getting the joke. Arthur pouts at the lack of appreciation for his 'hilarity'.
Caelia: "I do wonder where it came from though..."
King Arthur: "God sent it, he said."
Gamma: "I didn't really say that, but I suppose it could have been? Not sure why he'd sent amulets to alien worlds though."
King Arthur: "All worlds are God's worlds."
Gamma: "They are?"
King Arthur: "He created the universe."
He smiles with pride.
Gamma: "Oh right! But why haven't we heard of him?"
King Arthur: "Uh... because... uh..."
Caelia rolls her eyes.
Caelia: "It's not from your God, oh king. This was definitely forged. But where? To see alien magic at work. Fascinating."
She beams up at Arthur with the most adorable face that he feels like he'd just awarded her with strawberry ice cream.
Sir Lancelot: "Sire, it appears that the enemy force has gathered at the perimeter."
King Arthur: "Finally!"
Gamma: "I'm not sure why we waited for them. We could have gone in there before they were ready and won the battle that much faster..."
Sir Lancelot gives Gamma an aghast face through the visor.
Sir Lancelot: "That would not be honourable!"
Gamma: "Oh... I see. Seems you have made war a game on your planet..."
Sir Lancelot: "It is no game, Custodian Pans... it is art."
King Arthur: "Return to formation Sir Caelia--"
Caelia: "Lady."
King Arthur: "You will want to marshal your own..."
He flounders.
King Arthur: "Troupe."
Gamma Pans nods, though a little hesitantly. Even Arthur can see that the man is questioning his decision to involve humans in Saturn's politics. Arthur, however, grins. It's far too late for second-guessing and he gets his new lands. Even if the sky is the colour of spew.
King Arthur sweeps Excalibur from its sheath and there's a blinding glow of bright, divine light. Mordred had tried to convince his father to stop drawing Excalibur before the battle because it's like a beacon for enemy arrow fire, but Arthur knew it was important to inspire courage in his soldiers and to strike fear in the hearts of the enemy. Plus there are always plenty of soldiers willing to dive into the line of fire to save Arthur's skin.
The brilliance of the unsheathing casts its glow outwards, like a miniature lighthouse, and he can only imagine the awe and confusion of the alien defenders. He slowly lowers Excalibur to point towards the enemy lines. He needs not speak. The light of Excalibur says all he needs to say.
The Knights of the Round Table, all fifty of them, start their march and the soldiers follow suit. Though the enemy seems an easy-victory, Arthur isn't completely dumb when it comes to battle. To the far left Sir Bedivere leads a unit out so that they could flank the enemy while Gamma Pan's small force would come up on the other flank. Trying to explain even the basic concept of tactics to Gamma Pans had been a struggle. The best he'd come up with was to murder them all in their sleep. These aliens have much to learn about honour and combat. Gamma Pans seems to be under the believe that winning is the only important aspect to battle. Silly, silly alien.
Arthur nudges his steed, a chestnut roan mare, Llamrei into a slow walk. While some knights have given their horses armour, making them cataphracts for battle, Arthur has only lightly weighed down his horse with necessities for a warhorse. She has a hood upon her head to focus her eyes forward and block out the chaos to her sides and she has a thick quilt upon her back to protect her skin from chaffing with the saddle. She is a very steady mare, happy, quiet and tame. Some of his knights liked to try to show off with their massive, powerful mounts that were, more often than not, far wilder and more aggressive than Arthur's Llamrei. Arthur would have rather have a pleasant trot across a field than thunder over it and wind up dead on a pike because the horse is too keen and too powerful to be reigned in.
Soldiers march by their king and he spots many of them breaking their focus to glance up at him. He isn't about to chastise them for that though. Sir Kay, in his red and black tabard, goes by Arthur and gives his half-brother a jolly wave. Arthur returns the gesture.
----------
Merlin: "So this is a turbo-lasem?"
Ltexi: "Laser, yes."
The Jupiterian admiral is climbing ontop of the inner section of the canon like it's a horse. Merlin isn't used to seeing women straddling things like that unless they're The Black Knight or some other warring female knight. Most ladies would side-saddle. Merlin, of course, didn't ride at all.
Merlin: "Why is it strange for the lasers to be here? You told us about them."
Ltexi yanks a panel off of the canon. Merlin can't help but blush at the sight of this half-naked woman with a massive cylinder-shaped object between her legs. Merlin gulps. Thankfully Lancelot isn't here.
Ltexi: "Laser weapons aren't strange. Actually they're common as muck--"
She sticks her head into the open compartment for a moment. This woman seems to be very at home with machinery in a way Merlin could never be. Merlin has caught herself treating the technology on this space-ship with such careful reverence many times. Ltexi treats it like its an old rake.
She pulls her head back out again and looks at Merlin, blowing a strand of hair from her forehead.
Ltexi: "It is strange that your ship has them though. Mine doesn't."
Merlin: "But didn't you say they're the same? Like sister ships or something?"
Ltexi: "Exactly why it's strange."
She slides off of the space-weapon, satisfied with her inspection.
Ltexi: "Something must have changed between the construction of The Hopeful and the construction of The Camelot."
Merlin: "It's just Camelot. No 'The'."
Ltexi: "Huh. Weird that most ship's are always 'The' something isn't it?"
After a second's musing.
Ltexi: "Aaaaanyway. Whoever built The Hopeful didn't intend it for warfare. It was used for something entirely different. But when they built Camelot, or maybe as a last-minute alteration to the design, they decided to put weapons on it. Hell, considering the age of these things, they might be the galaxy's first turbo-lasers."
Merlin: "I do understand everything you're saying but, at the same time, a lot of this is going over my head. Sorry, my field of vision is pretty limited compared to yours, admiral."
Ltexi shrugs.
Ltexi: "Don't worry about it, Baldy. I'm just thinking out loud."
Merlin pouts.
Merlin: "It is really necessary to call me that?"
Ltexi: "No, but it's fun."
Before Merlin could further argue, Ltexi's train of thought has already moved on several paces.
Ltexi: "By the way, I noticed you haven't installed an A.I.. And, thinking about it, you probably don't have A.I. technology. Huh. Honestly your ship would be much, much easier to operate with one. I've just installed one aboard The Hopeful, trying to get it more operational."
Merlin scratches the side of her head while Ltexi rambles on.
Ltexi: "From the systems on both ships, they were using O.I. technology originally. Again, they may actually be the first ships to even use that technology. Either way, we're not about to go attaching people to the ship, and I doubt you'd want to sacrifice anyone either--"
Merlin: "Sacrifice!?"
Her mind whirls to visions of cultists and sickles and virgins.
Ltexi: "So A.I. tech is better. It might not work as well as an O.I., certainly not as smart, but it's far more... ethical, I guess you'd say."
Merlin: "Uh... right. Ethical options are better... So long as there's no sacrificing."
Ltexi, wandering down the corridor, inspects a console bank. She scans through the systems somewhat absently as she continues talking.
Ltexi: "You'd need to build an A.I. Hub to house the A.I. itself, but that should be easy enough to do if we help you out. All of this would be pending permission from Chancellor Ctatherine, mind you--"
Ltexi waggles a finger at Merlin before returning it to the screen.
Ltexi: "But really, thinking about it, I doubt she would. Nobody is especially fond of your kind. Most of you are kind of arseholes."
Merlin couldn't fault her on that.
Ltexi: "So I guess we'll see. Either way, this trip has been great. Very useful for trying to figure out the systems on my own. The Hopeful was really battered when we found her, hanging in orbit around Mars like a dying whale--"
Merlin: "What's a whale?"
Ltexi: "Pretty sure you have whales on Earth, you know? Like a gigantic animal in the ocean."
Merlin: "A really big fish?"
Ltexi: "Sure. Only it's a mammal."
Merlin: "In the ocean!?"
Ltexi: "You really need to get out more."
Merlin: "Sorry. Bedivere probably knows what a whale is."
Ltexi: "I met him earlier. He also knows what a Snarkumfeist is."
Merlin: "A what?"
Ltexi: "Exactly."
Merlin: "You mentioned that there's other human planets out there. Can you tell me about them?"
Ltexi stops working on the console. She then shrugs.
Ltexi: "Can't say I know much about them, to be honest. I'm not much of a tourist, you know?"
She continues trekking down the passage. She strides as though she owns the ship while Merlin has to trot after her to keep up.
Ltexi: "There's a few of them. Lots of fighting, both on worlds and between worlds. The worlds were once prosperous but something happened to the original human homeworld, wherever that is, and that broke up their network of communications somehow. Anyway, people started fighting, like humans do, and they regressed. Some more than others. Earth probably the most I guess. I mean, wow, you guys are really backwards. Seriously, who would put men in charge of anything?"
Merlin, again, couldn't fault that logic.
Ltexi: "So yeah. The worlds, or nations, or whatever, that had retained the most technology or culture or whatever, I don't know, managed to overpower the rest and then there you have the current situation. Some planets want to rule the others, while other worlds want to be independent and other worlds want to be friends with everyone. Stupid politics stuff. I'm sure the Chancellor would love to chew your ear off about that stuff sometime."
Another console bank and it displays a complete picture of Camelot's exterior. Ltexi sighs as she stares at it.
Ltexi: "All I really want to know is what happened to The Hopeful to put her in such bad shape?"
----------
Arthur's sword cuts through the liquid metal armour like a hot knife through butter. The laser swords of the enemy were proving to be a troublesome foe for most of the soldiers and knights, but sheer numbers and battle smarts are proving the equal of this advanced technology. A powerful weapon in the hands of a fool is next to useless against the experience and training of his knights.
With his own enemy down, Arthur looks up to see his son plant his own blade into an enemy's face. Arthur's pride is mixed with anger when he realises the little ******* has stolen his ceremonial sword, Clarent, and is dirtying it in battle. That's like using the finest china tea set to have lunch with a farmer. You're just sullying it!
Half tempted to run across the battlefield and smack Mordred across the back of the head, Arthur is distracted when a streak of lightning arcs before him and strikes one of the G-Kryptons squarely in the chest. The alien is propelled through the air and out of sight. Arthur gives Gamma Pans a nod of appreciation but in his head he's cooking up a plan as not to be outdone. Aside from his knights, Arthur isn't about to be overshadowed by a gangly-legged, honourless barbarian.
Arthur sheathes Excalibur for a moment and rides towards the thickest grouping of enemies. He spies their swords glowing menacingly but Arthur is undeterred. As he nears he redraws the sword and its shining brilliance once again bursts to life. This time its brilliance is stunning and the laser-wielding foes are instantly blinded. Their guards lowered, several knights ride out and hack down the easy prey. Sir Galahad, having stolen one of the laser swords for himself, shows himself to have as much courage as his father.
As Arthur watches, his eyes rove towards the alien city and he wonders where he could build his first alien castle...
Space Camelot: Alien Designs
Space Camelot: Alien Designs
Characters: King Arthur | Queen Guinevere | Sir Lancelot | Sir Bedivere | Sir Kay | Prince Mordred | Sir Galahad | (Sir) The Black Knight | (Sir) The Faerie Knight | Tom a'Lincoln | Morganna le Fay | Merlin the Younger | Andy | Admiral Ltexi | Gamma Pans | Omega Wier | Sir Tristram
Several young boys and girls, clad in the clothing of squires, stand in two lines blowing victory trumpets. The Knights of the Round Table pass through the aisle of children. Usually there's confetti or flowers but the Kryptons didn't even have such things to toss. Gamma Pans had suggested water could be thrown but Arthur ultimately decided that being drowned in water was not a good way to end a battle.
With the Knights are the two X-Krypton Custodians, Gamma Pans and Omega Wier, looking quite out of sorts. When they had won battles in the past they usually got straight to sorting out the spoils of battle and how they'd be used to improve their own city.
Arthur rides at the head of the procession alongside Sir Kay and Sir Tristram. Kay sits confidently astride his grey horse, which is coloured almost entirely white, and wears a broad grin. Conquering aliens apparently sits well with him. Sir Tristram, on the other hand, sits solemn and quiet as always. The Saracen isn't wearing the usual tabard that many knights wear. Instead he has his usual leather armour and swept around his neck is a very heavy cloak. On the cloak is his sigil - one he devised for himself, a bow and arrow silhouette of yellow against the black of the cloak. His hair is fairly unkempt but he has taken to braiding portions of it in the style of pagans in Britain. Despite his dark skin, dark hair and features of the Middle-East, Sir Tristram has shocking blue eyes. When asked about his blue eyes he only vaguely alludes to a point of Russian ancestry in his genes and a claim to ancient royal lineage.
As they reach the end of the procession they dismount and hand reins of their horses to squires. The squires are pretty befuddled at that point because there aren't any stables on Saturn. Instead the poor horses get tethered up inside some poor sod's house. At least he's no longer around to see his house being invaded by these monstrous Earth beasts since he was skewered during the battle by a very pointy lance.
Arthur is led to the building that the city's Custodians use and, after uncomfortably waggling his arms at the lack of walls, he enters the building with his two knights on either side. They are offered seats by the remaining Custodian survivor for the G-Kryptons. The Custodian is a female Krypton - the only hint of that being her enormous breasts that, despite their size, are very unappealing to the human males - who sits and stares with bewilderment. Apparently she hadn't received the memo about alien invaders.
King Arthur: "All your base ar--"
Sir Kay: "I don't think she understands English, Arthur."
King Arthur: "Oi, we're not at a round table meeting. It's Sire."
Sir Kay groans petulantly but relents.
Sir Kay: "My deepest apologies, oh Sire."
King Arthur: "Bette--"
Sir Kay: "My liege. My lord. My master. My ruler. My captain. My king. My-- ow!"
Arthur smacks his half-brother across the back of the helmet with a clatter of his gauntlet against the metal helm. Gamma Pans and Omega Wier finally enter the room and Gamma appears somewhat relieved to find the foreigners hadn't done anything crazy. The G-Krypton Custodian jumps to her feet and snarls at the conquering tribe. After an exchange that the humans can't understand Omega Wier leaves the room while Gamma turns to Arthur.
Gamma: "The traitors are defeated. Thanks to you, King Arthur of Earth, our victory was easily won. What can we do to repay you?"
Arthur gives Gamma Pans a smirk. It appear quite innocent but it's well-practised and probably the closest to a 'convincing lie' he's ever managed. He doesn't, however, lie at all.
King Arthur: "All your base are belong to us!"
----------
Several days later...
King Arthur: "Just give this place back! GRAH!"
He stomps from one room to the next. He had put up paper walls to, at least, create the illusion of personal space in a civilisation where everyone could see into your house.
He then stomps back into the room and waggles an accusing finger at Sir Bedivere.
King Arthur: "This is all your fault, you know?"
Sir Bedivere blinks behind his spectacles.
Sir Bedivere: "Erm...?"
Arthur proceeds to alter his own voice in an exaggerated mock tone of Sir Bedivere.
King Arthur: "Oh, I'm Sir Bedivere and I'd like to study their technology. Let's conquer the land and look at the stupid, shiny swords."
The conquest, and subsequent attempted rule, of the G-Kryptons hadn't gone according to the usual scheme of things back on Earth. His first course of action was to tax the people - except they didn't have money on Saturn. He tried to get them to submit useful objects or goods to the crown as tax instead, and wound up collecting an assortment of buckets, crayons and weird cat-like animals that smelt vaguely of old socks. He was, at least, determined to get a castle. But since none of the people spoke English and the concept of a castle was entirely alien to them, the building he wound up with looked more like a tall cardboard box with little oval windows made of blue paper.
Sir Bedivere: "So you want to vacate the city, Sire?"
King Arthur: "Absolutely! I don't know why you convinced me to conquer this place anyway! I'm supposed to be colonising somewhere nice! Not a smelly rock filled with ugly alien people."
Bedivere decides not to remind Arthur that it was actually his idea and not Bedivere's. Instead he nods in complete agreement.
Sir Bedivere: "Yes Sire, I think we should move on. We couldn't hold this territory after we left anyway. Too few knights to maintain a..."
He glances out of the paper door - which is an Arthur shaped hole after he accidentally papered himself in without said door - towards the peaceful, wall-less city beyond.
Sir Bedivere: "Garrison? And besides, nobody would want to stay here. It smells bad. And we really need all the colonists we can get for our new home."
King Arthur: "Exactly what I was going to say! Great minds think alike, eh!?"
Sir Bedivere: "..."
Luckily he doesn't have to answer that as they're interrupted by Prince Mordred. With him is the G-Krypton Custodian as well as the X-Custodian Omega Wier. Since conquering the city, the G-Krypton, whose name is Flannel Bags - a name that spread quickly amongst the knights with great mirth - had made every attempt to learn the wacky language of these hairy alien people so that she could attempt to appease them in their bizarre demands for box-shaped buildings and collections of household junk. Now that she has become somewhat proficient in it she's been able to figure out what is actually happening.
She glances at Omega Wier, who nods solemnly.
King Arthur: "Don't tell me they haven't finished building the church yet?"
Sir Bedivere snaps to sudden interest.
Sir Bedivere: "That was a church they built!?"
King Arthur: "Yes... what does it look like?"
He dreads the answer.
Sir Bedivere: "Well... it looks bit like... a portaloo."
Arthur plants his face into his palms.
Sir Bedivere: "Well... God has had more than a few... offerings from knights this morning..."
Flannel Bags: "Sorry, it is not about the..."
She glances from Arthur to Bedivere.
Flannel Bags: "Portal loo?"
King Arthur: "Close enough. If it's not about that then what is? You look very serious..."
Flannel Bags: "You have been cheated, my kunt."
Arthur reels.
Sir Bedivere: "King, Custodian Bags. Kiiiing."
She nods enthusiastically.
Flannel Bags: "My kling!"
King Arthur: "Closer than your last attempt. Let's just stick with that..."
Flannel Bags: "My Kling, you were tricked to coming to this city!"
King Arthur: "Tricked how?"
Flannel Bags: "By Gamma Pans, the Custodian of the X-Kryptons! Omega Wier is telling me that L-Kryptons raided X-Krypton land but Custodian Pans telling you that it was us, the G-Kryptons. Custodian Pans has long wanted to raid us but never had the strength. He was supposed to being our alliance! But he tricked you to join him and betrayed that alliance to us!"
There is a long silence...
---
Prince Mordred and Sir Tristram are just outside the Custodian House in the G-Krypton city. After sending technology samples up to Camelot for Merlin to study she, with some help from the Jupiter Admiral, was able to retroengineer several new possible designs for the beam technology. One of those designs was the beam-bow, as Mordred called it. From a single metallic hilt protrudes to beams of thin energy and, like a bow, he pulls back a single pellet that extends into a red shaft of light. He releases it. The laser-arrow is weighted only by the tiny pellet and is, otherwise, weightless. The pellet is resistant to wind pressure and so the arrow whizzes through the air fast and long. It hits Arthur's new portaloo in the distance.
Sir Tristram: "Good shot, Mordred."
Prince Mordred: "Thanks. We should try firing one from the top of a building, see how far they can really go."
Sir Tristram: "Too dangerous. We'd probably end up killing someone..."
Prince Mordred: "Like a mile away. Nobody would ever even know it was us!"
Sir Tristram scowls at the prince.
Prince Mordred: "I was just joking, Sir Tristram. Relax."
Sir Tristram: "Sometimes, Mordred, with you I wonder."
Prince Mordred: "Is it because I'm an incest-induced ******* child or my red hair that makes me evil, Sir Tristram?"
The Saracen knight shakes his head.
Sir Tristram: "It's your callous attitude that will lead you to ruin, good prince."
Prince Mordred: "So noooow I'm a good prince, huh?"
Sir Tristram: "Are you trying to goad me, Mordred? You should leave that task to Sir Kay. He is much better at annoying everyone."
Mordred snorts with a small laugh. Their talk is interrupted by a sudden bellow from the Custodian House. From the Arthur-shaped-hole-door suddenly bursts Arthur himself astride his horse, leaving an Arthur-and-Horse-shaped-hole-door instead. Where Arthur had been keeping Llamrei, the horse, was a sudden mystery to Mordred as he couldn't think of anywhere inside the building that the horse ought to be kept. Either way he had it now and he charged down the short hill towards Mordred and Tristram. Sir Bedivere, Omega Wier and Flannel Bags come running after him.
As Arthur gets to the bottom of the hill, several knights that are in the area approach to hear Arthur's explanation for the sudden calamity.
King Arthur: "Knights! We have been played for fools! Anyone that can be ready within the next fifteen minutes, saddle up immediately! We shall hunt down the fiend we know as Gamma Pans!"
Mordred glances at Tristram for just a moment before they both rush off to find their horses, which are still being stored in a random house and attended to by squires. While Sir Tristram mounts his grey horse, Mordred gets upon his own roan - the younger sister horse to his father's. They pull the reins and they're away. Just behind them comes Sir Caelia upon her dire wolf. The wolf, despite being shorter than the horses, is able to catch up to, and pass them by, with ease. It bounds and leaps down the streets as nimbly as any household cat. The G-Kryptons watch the strange aliens upon their alien beasts with fascination and curiosity at the sudden change of pace.
Soon enough they reach the appointed exit, planned out on the day of conquest in case they suddenly had to vacate the city, and found Arthur waiting for them.
Sir Caelia, Sir Lancelot, Sir Kay, Sir Tristram, Mordred himself and the X-Krypton Custodian Omega Wier were to journey out in search of Gamma Pans. Omega Wier, though he doesn't speak English, can gesture well enough and so the knights follow his lead. He sits behind Arthur upon Llamrei and points the direction back towards the X-Krypton city.
The group is filled with anger. It's one thing to be betrayed but to be betrayed and used made the betrayal all the harder to swallow. Sir Bedivere would oversee the return to Camelot by the rest of the knights and await the return of the king. Mordred hopes that he and his people hadn't done too much damage to the lives of these alien people and wonders if his father plans to compensate them somehow.
---
After reaching the city they had learnt that Gamma Pans, aware of the incoming king, had fled. Arthur, determined to hunt down the villain, leads his knights after the runaway...
Space Camelot: The Ruins of Saturn
Space Camelot: The Ruins of Saturn
Characters: King Arthur | Queen Guinevere | Sir Lancelot | Sir Bedivere | Sir Kay | Prince Mordred | Sir Galahad | (Sir) The Black Knight | (Sir) The Faerie Knight | Tom a'Lincoln | Morganna le Fay | Merlin the Younger | Andy | Admiral Ltexi | Gamma Pans | Omega Wier | Sir Tristram
They had been travelling for half a day before they finally catch sight of their quarry. King Arthur and his band are standing atop of a cliff overlooking a valley and in that valley they spot the fleeing figure of Gamma Pans. He isn't alone and, from Omega Wier's suggestions, it's likely a band of L-Kryptons that conspired with Pans against the G-Kryptons. A treacherous, narrow path winds down from their elevated position to the valley below.
In the valley they can see strange ruins of an ancient city. It's made of rocks that resemble sandstone and, like the Krypton civilisations they'd encountered so far, there are no walls. Some of the buildings have crumbles to nothing but rubble, while others stand immensely tall - taller than any of the modern buildings they'd seen in the X-Krypton or G-Krypton Cities. A fell wind sweeps across the valley, picking up the dust of centuries in a threatening blizzard. The figures of Gamma Pans and his crew use the buildings for cover against the minor dust storms, navigating the ruin like insects scuttling across sand. Here and there are incredibly tall obelisks tipped by circular plates and emit a faint blue light. Evidently the lights are powered by some unknown ancient means and in the dying light of the evening Arthur thanks God for their existence.
He glances up at the yellow sky as it starts to darken. The constant cloud cover means that the night holds no stars and no radiant moon to gaze down upon the mortal struggles of man. Instead there's just a black, oppressive roof above them that feels suddenly stifling. Regret burrows into his heart and he mentally punishes himself for agreeing to remain on this God-forsaken world. However he realises that his choice may well have been God's Will. The traitor Gamma Pans may well have gotten away with his crime had Arthur not remained on the world, an act that the X-Krypton likely hadn't expected given the difference in cultural practices here.
King Arthur: "Okay. We're gaining on them. We'll be able to catch them in these ruins."
He starts his horse towards the narrow path but Sir Tristram cuts in front of him.
Sir Tristram: "Sire, I should warn you before we proceed..."
He looks out across the ruins.
Sir Tristram: "When researching the world, Sir Bedivere and I discovered some stories of this ancient land. It is known to be a place of restless spirits, sire. If the stories are true, we will find ourselves under attack from malevolent spirits of ancient Kryptons."
King Arthur: "Strange. These people seemed to be all about the physical, practical world and not interested in anything spiritual."
Sir Tristram: "That only adds credence to the claims then. Nobody knows why the spirits remain. No other land on the planet apparently has such ghosts, only this forsaken valley."
King Arthur: "...The Forsaken Valley."
He nods with a smirk.
King Arthur: "And excellent name for it, Sir Tristram. I'm sure we can add this venture to our list of magnificent tales."
Sir Tristram bows his head.
Prince Mordred: "So we're still going in there? Even with the ghosts?"
King Arthur: "Let's just hope the spirits don't steal vengeance from our grasp."
Silently they file down the winding pathway. Prince Mordred takes the rear and shares a worried glance with Omega Wier. At least he's not the only practical-minded person on this trip. Mordred is actually surprised Omega Wier even came this far as he could have left Arthur to it and sauntered off back to his Custodian House in the X-Krypton City. Mordred supposes there's some sense of vendetta to the man, just like Arthur. Wier, however, doesn't appear to be built for these kinds of adventures. Though Mordred is no expert on Krypton physiology, he can tell that Wier is overweight and sluggish. He had borrowed Sir Bedivere's horse and had had days worth of lessons in riding, yet he was still fairly clumsy and looks like he might fall off the horse at any given moment. Mordred is certain the horse himself is desperately trying to keep the rider on his back rather than the other way around. Wier's big, round eyes are bright red against his obsidian skin and he has abnormally large ears. To the prince the man looks like some kind of fat gremlin that might be lurking under a bridge or in a cesspit. Yet his ineptitude makes him almost comical.
Sir Caelia's dire wolf is able to leap down each narrow path, placing her at the basin long before any of the other knights have even reached the centre-point. She races off to start scouting the area and quickly becomes a tiny, dark point to Mordred's eyes as he looks out across the abandoned city. To Mordred it seems like Stonehenge - an ancient and mysterious structure in England that defied explanation by all scholars. Only Merlin and his druids seemed to know where it came from and who might have built it but even they always admitted that they were uncertain. Then, one day, along comes Sir Kay and he graffitied it with a little sword and axe heads. An ancient, mystical ruin and he carved stupid pictures into it. It just goes to show - time doesn't give a toss.
He and his father are about to go blundering through this ruin, alongside that very same Sir Kay, and are likely going to be mistreating this mystical ruin.
As he nears the next bend he finds Sir Tristram watching the ruins while the other knights pass him by. Mordred slows.
Prince Mordred: "Do you see anything?"
The Saracen shakes his head slowly.
Prince Mordred: "That's a good sign."
Sir Tristram: "Is it? If these spirits do indeed exist, then why have they not come out for the Custodian? Why is Sir Caelia allowed to roam unhindered?"
Mordred looks up at the darkening sky.
Prince Mordred: "Could be they only come out at night, like on Earth? Give it another hour."
Sir Tristram: "Could be..."
He kicks his horse into motion and slowly walks by Mordred.
Sir Tristram: "Or perhaps they're waiting for the rest of us to enter the valley first..."
Undead. Malicious. And smart?
Mordred continues to wonder why they aren't headed in the opposite direction.
The knights reach the basin and start to slowly cross the dusty valley with some hesitation. The sky is now completely dark and only the tall pillars cast an eerie blue glow throughout the valley. The tall buildings cast long, black shadows across the dusty, empty streets and Arthur has to draw Excalibur to help cast light around the group. He holds his mighty sword aloft and the brilliant, white light sweeps around around them. A deep sense of unease suddenly clutches at Mordred's heart and he can't help but groan at the sensation.
Sir Tristram: "I feel it too, Mordred."
Sir Kay: "I feel like my bowels are about to drop... same for you?"
Sir Lancelot: "Steel yourselves, knights. A deadly foe stalks us."
Prince Mordred: "Thanks for that, Sir Lancelot. That really helped steel myself."
Sir Lancelot: "We are the Knights of the Round Table, we won't be cowed by any wanton spirit!"
Sir Kay: "You tell them, Lancelot. And fight them too while I run off."
King Arthur: "If you run away, Kay, I'll put you on barnacle duty. Someone has to scrub those buggers off the ship."
Mordred draws Clarent while he listens to the others bickering. Strangely their inane banter is somewhat soothing against the offensive sense of despair and fear that is grasping at his nerves. The sensation, he knows, is an external force being applied to him by the dead beings in the ruins. He's able to feel it encroaching and trying to falter his own, natural resolve.
Suddenly there is a piercing screech. It's followed up by dozens more from all around them. Surrounded.
From beyond light cast by Excalibur comes the enemy. The spirits have a strange physical form - the dust of the ruins congeals together to recreate the rough shape of their former selves. They have no legs, only swirling dust, but their torsos extend from the dust cloud and bear long, gangly arms and small, grotesque heads. As gremlin-like as Mordred thought Omega Wier, these monstrous spirits are far more terrifying to look at.
One swoops in at Mordred, impossibly fast, and he instinctively swipes at it. As his sword cuts into the spirit it explodes. Dust buffets him and whizzes past in its continued trajectory. He coughs and splutters the dead from his mouth. He wonders if all this dust is actually the earthly remains of their original bodies and he's quickly hacking in a desperate attempt to get dead aliens out of his throat.
Unfortunately the coughing fit leaves him vulnerable and a dust-spirit slashes up at him with clawed fingers. The claws cut razor-sharp and shreds the cloth of his tabard. He's thrown from his horse and onto the dusty ground with a grunt. He crawls forward but something snatches his ankle. He barely has time to glance down at the ghost's snarling, hungry face as it then drags him along the floor. He grasps at the ground but his fingers only meet dust. He sees Clarent lurking off and can only cry out as the distance between it and him grows. And kicks with his other foot but his boot meets nothing but air as the dust of the figure moulds around his body attack. He realises his first stroke had been a lucky one - a blessed blade against undead creatures. He isn't going to escape this fight with kicks and punches.
His fingers finally meet the solid remains of an ancient wall, hidden beneath the dust. The ghost yanks at his leg but he holds tight. Then he feels the ghosts razor-claws dig into the leather armour, easily slicing through it as though it were simple cloth. The cold, knife-like grasp meets his skin beneath and he screams with the sudden agony of the sensation. His legs is being sliced by four knives at once. The aura of dread is suddenly able to worm its way into his soul and he panics. His cries of anguish and horror deafen himself.
Even when he finds himself scrambling freely through the dust he continues screaming for his soul until a blunt object smacks into the back of his head. Suddenly dulled, Mordred's brain reorganises itself. He looks up to find Sir Caelia atop of her wolf, who is standing over him. She throws her hand out, palm splayed, and blasts a dust-spirit to oblivion. Able to manipulate the very air allows her to destroy these apparitions' physical manifestations with ease. Yet there are many of them.
Sir Caelia: "How's your head?"
He rubs it and winces. She must have whacked him with a very big rock. Probably relished the opportunity to give her ruler a good crack.
Prince Mordred: "I'll live."
Sir Caelia: "Good. Get your sword. They're coming."
He sees their shadows coming closer from beyond the light and he dives for Clarent. His hand curls around the hilt and he instantly feels its light pulse through him. He swings it as he rises, cutting through the stomach of an inbound ghost. It blasts apart and the dust flies past before it topples to the ground to join the rest of the eternally forgotten.
He swings again, this time trashing a dust-ghost that had been flying towards Sir Caelia. She, able to tear them apart easiest of all the knights, has made herself prime target for the ghosts and more and more of them descend upon her position. Clarent glides through the air as Mordred hits another intent on passing him on its way to the Aes Sidhe Faerie. He runs and slams his foot against a squat wall, propelling him through the air. His momentum allows his outstretched sword to pierce through three ghosts at once as he flies through them like a dart. He lands with a roll and hacks at another ghost that pops up in front of him. Clarent itself seems to fill him with courage to stave off the dread that had consumed him earlier, but it also seems to possess a kind of wisdom of its own. Wisdom that Mordred, somehow, also possesses when he uses the sword. He had always considered himself competent at swordplay but when wielding Clarent he feels like he can estimate the mystifying movements of the ghosts with uncanny clarity.
A lance suddenly whizzes by him. It passes through a ghost, doing nothing to stop the foul spirit as the dust just moulds around the passing object. Mordred's attention, however, is now drawn to it and he lashes out to finish what the lance had started. He looks back to see Sir Lancelot now brandishing Arondight - the demon-sword of Baal - as he cuts through the spirits with as much apparent ease as Clarent. A lot better than his lance did.
Mordred sees bright red streaks zipping out from a single point in the distance, striking through the ghosts. The energy arrows do not, however, seem to affect the spirits as well as the magical weaponry of Lancelot and Mordred but the energy blasts do hit the ghosts with kinetic force that knocks them back. The knockback then allows King Arthur to cleanly slice through them while Sir Tristram uses the beam-bow to stun them. Excalibur cuts and a dash of light streams out with every stroke. As the light extends it ploughs through other ghosts and burns them up into nothingness. Aside from the wind magic of Sir Caelia, Excalibur seems to be the most potent weapon against these malevolent spirits of evil.
Omega Wier, like Sir Tristram, is able to stun the enemies using his beam sword, though his strikes are far weaker than the missiles of the knight. Wier seems like a child with a stick and is being protected by Lancelot, whether the alien realises it or not. Yet even Omega Wier is currently in a better position than the unfortunate Sir Kay, who is being overwhelmed with only his standard bronze sword to fight with. A ghost screeches down towards the knight and grabs his shield. Holding onto it tightly he's lifted up off of the ground and dangles over the battlefield.
Prince Mordred: "Sir Tristram, shoot Sir Kay down!"
Sir Tristram responds in an instant. The light arrow fires through the air at bashes into the dust-ghost. It dissipates with a mild explosion of red light and the spirit rocks back with a cry of anguish and hatred. Sir Kay lands in a crouch, just in time for Prince Mordred to jump up onto his shield and fly up into the air to finish off the stunned ghost. Mordred lands on his feet with only a quick crouch to break his fall. He turns to help Sir Kay in his plight against the monsters.
King Arthur: "Knights, hold them off until I'm out of sight! When I'm gone, retreat to the top of the cliff!"
Sir Lancelot: "My king! We can't--"
King Arthur: "I have to get the traitor, Lancelot."
As Arthur starts to ride away, further into the city, Omega Wier follows after him. Ultimately Arthur decides it would take too much time and effort to try to get him to understand the concept of remaining with Sir Lancelot than it would to just let the clumsy oaf follow after him.
Arthur rides like the wind and Omega Wier manages, surprisingly, to keep up. Likely in part thanks to the grand horse that he rides and in part due to the terror of being caught by the sudden wave of dust-ghosts that have risen up behind them. The cloud of spirits chases after the two riders, growing ever larger as more ghosts from the city take up the pursuit. Arthur glances back and, for a moment, thinks he's an idiot for riding off alone like this. There must be hundreds and hundreds of them. Their screeches bombard his ears but his renewed determination for vengeance steels him.
At the far end of the city he sees bright light flowing and blasting in a fit of rage and despair. The dust-ghosts attacking Gamma Pans and his companions are dispatched by the lightning that cracks out of the amulet - probably even more potent against them than the wind magic of Sir Caelia. The electrical attacks seem to grow ever more powerful as the amulet is being used.
Arthur throws caution to the winds and when Llamrei draws near he slings himself off of her back and tackles the X-Krypton. As he'd expected the momentum of his body slams Gamma to the ground easily, the Krypton's thin legs making the squat torso easy to topple. Lightning bursts from the amulet in Gamma's sudden panic. It streaks out and hits one of his allies who is struck hard and sent flying into the air. Unfortunately he is snagged from the air by several ghosts who begin to rip and tear at his liquid metal armour until he's shredded by their claws. Gamma Pans is struck by the horror of killing his ally but his attention is drawn back to Arthur as the king tries to grab the amulet. Electric cascades from the bejewelled artefact and courses through Arthur's plated gauntlet. He reels back from the sudden jolt of pain and clutches his scolded hand. Gamma kicks Arthur away and scrabbles to his feet.
He's carrying a bag of possessions, strapped over his liquid metal armour, and wears a wild, hunted look in his eyes. Exactly how Arthur had wanted him to feel.
Arthur swings Excalibur at Gamma but a quick burst of lightning hits the sword and it slams backwards into the ground. The blast would have taken any other sword out of the wielders grasp, but Excalibur can never be forcefully removed from this king's hand. So his hand is thrown with it. His arm is jerked violently as the sword slams into the sandstone. Arthur growls and yanks his blade free again.
One of the L-Kryptons, apparently overconfident in his skills, jumps in front of Gamma Pans and swings his laser sword at the king. Arthur parries the strike with such ease that he appeared bored by the intervening duel. The parry leaves the Krypton wide open and Arthur runs him through. The light from the strike lashes out and incinerates two creeping ghosts with to boot. There's only two other L-Kryptons left in Gamma's party and they instantly accept their loss to Arthur in favour of defending themselves from the onslaught of ghosts.
Arthur glances back to the city where he can see the swirl of ghosts that had pursued him through its streets. They appear angry but unable to extend out of the city limits. He's unsure what force binds them there but he's thankful for it. The rest of the free-roaming spirits pose little threat so long as he hold Excalibur.
Omega Wier sidles up beside Arthur, his own sword poised. Gamma Pans glowers at the other X-Krypton.
Gamma Pans: "So it comes to this."
He then says more in his own language to Wier but Arthur doesn't care to ask for a translation. He charges at the former Custodian but his strike misses as Gamma Pans jumps backwards. He fires blast of lightning from the amulet that Arthur narrowly dodges. Having experienced one jolt from the magical weapon, he doesn't want a repeat experience. Then, from the amulet, a greater surge erupts and a wall of lightning strikes down between Arthur and Gamma Pans, raining down seemingly from the heavens itself. The sudden strike destroys many ghosts on its way down to the ground and as it hits the shockwave knocks Arthur and Omega Wier backwards. Arthur shields his eyes from the dust upheaval and clenches his lips tightly. He peeks through two fingers to see Gamma Pans making a run for it.
King Arthur: "The cowardly dog!"
He runs after him, striking a ghost as he moves past.
Gamma glances back to fire a blast of lightning back at Arthur. The attempt is unaimed and it lazily misses the pursuing human. It does, however, distract Gamma so that he runs straight into an awaiting dust-ghost. Its claws grasp the fleeing man, one hand around his arm and one around his neck. Gamma cries out in pain and horror as his life is about to be snuffed out. Arthur reaches them, while the two L-Kryptons keep running for their lives, disappearing into the darkness with the ghosts flying after them.
Arthur brings his sword to bear.
His strike tears through the ghost and releases Gamma Pans from its hold.
Gamma Pans falls to the dust with a look of fear and confusion.
King Arthur: "Vengeance shall be mine, traitor. No ghost shall take it from me."
Gamma Pans: "You call me a traitor!? It's you who is the traitor! You steal the lands of the G-Kryptons, betraying my trust in you! And now you corrupt this fool so he thinks he can claim what is mine!"
Before Arthur can ask what that means, Omega Wier grabs the amulet and tugs it from around Gamma Pan's neck. The look on the man's face suddenly lifts the veil from Arthur's mind and he sees the greed and ambition in the X-Krypton's eyes.
Omega Wier: "Mine!"
His first English word.
Lightning suddenly blasts from the amulet with wild abandon. Unlike the controlled, though desperate, blasts from Gamma Pans, the lightning strikes from Omega Wier are untamed and excitable. They strike down from the skies, streak out from the amulet and burn up the ghosts in a display of fire and light.
King Arthur: "He said you tricked me into taking the G-Krypton City. Said it was a lie that they were the raiders..."
Gamma Pans manages to get to his feet, still injured from the ghost attack.
Gamma Pans: "He told me that you'd vowed to help him take my amulet and slay me..."
King Arthur: "If there's one thing I hate... it's bloody liars."
Space Camelot: Space Lightning
Space Camelot: Space Lightning
Characters: King Arthur | Queen Guinevere | Prince Mordred | Morganna le Fay | Merlin the Younger | Sir Kay | Sir Lancelot | Sir Bedivere | Sir Galahad | Sir Tristram | Sir Caelia | Sir Red Rose Knight | Sir Black Knight | Sir Faerie Knight | Andy | Admiral Ltexi | Gamma Pans | Omega Wier
The lightning storm rages.
It had swirled out of controlled incredibly quickly and now the X-Krypton is lost in a whirlwind of white heat. Sparks fly from the lightning vortex and the spiral cocoon appears unlikely to dissipate. King Arthur and Gamma Pans desperately plant themselves into the dusty ground so they wouldn't be sucked up into the electrical storm. The dust-ghosts aren't as weighted and they're sucked into oblivion with each passing second - dust explodes as the ghosts pound into the lightning sheet.
King Arthur: "How in the name of God are we going to stop this!?"
Gamma Pans: "I don't know how to do it in the name of God, Human King, but maybe we can find a way of stopping this without his name?"
King Arthur: "Capital H!"
Gamma Pans: "What?"
King Arthur: "Nevermind."
Gamma Pans: "Honestly, I think there's only one thing for it."
King Arthur: "And that is?"
On the other side of the ancient Kryptonian city Prince Mordred and the Knights of the Round Table are keeping up with their dusty foes but while the humans' stamina begins the wane, the ghosts are forever ready to attack. Then they see bright white light erupt in the distance. The white light replaces the hazy blue light of the tall pillars and suddenly everyone is cast in brilliant radiance.
Sir Kay: "Is it the light of Excalibur!?"
Sir Caelia: "No! I sense highly potent magic at work! The aether here is being drained rapidly by whatever that is!"
Prince Mordred: "It must be the power of the amulet!"
Sir Lancelot: "To the king!!!"
Prince Mordred: "You want us to go towards it!?"
Sir Lancelot: "Your father is in there!"
Prince Mordred: "And may his soul rest in peace..."
It's not as if he hates his father. But he's certainly not about to give up his own on the off-chance he might save his father from what is probably the result of his own stupidity.
Sir Caelia: "Wait, the aether is shifting..."
Sir Kay: "Bugger the aether, that big lightning storm is shifting. It's... coming this way!"
As the whirlwind of lightning begins to move it starts to enter the city, tearing up ancient buildings from their foundations. Undisturbed for centuries they're suddenly blown apart in an instant. Of course it also means all of the ghosts in the city are being obliterated too, so there's a silver lining at least.
Mordred glances around at his fellow knights. Most of them are staring at the lightning, though Sir Lancelot distractedly pummels a random ghost.
Prince Mordred: "Uh... are we just going to stand here while that thing comes straight at us?"
Sir Kay: "I think... I think the boy has a point."
Sir Caelia points towards the city.
Sir Caelia: "Look! It's the King!"
They then spot the figure of Llamrei, Arthur's horse, and two riders charging along the straight, wide street of the city with the lightning tornado chasing them. Mordred groans.
Prince Mordred: "Why am I not surprised."
Over the cacophony of destructive sound they manage to hear the command of their king;
King Arthur: "RUN AWAY! RUN AWAY!"
Mordred doesn't need to be told twice as he leaps onto his horse's back and instantly rides in the opposite direction to the doomy-storm-thingy. He sees a ghost headed for Sir Kay as the knight attempts to mount his own steed. Mordred veers right and slashes the ghost in twain, spraying it into the air in an instant. Good deed of the day, Mordred reckons as he whizzes by his half-uncle.
A quick glance back and he sees everyone has has decided to turn tail in the face of this horrible magical storm. Sir Caelia, upon her dire wolf, quickly takes over Mordred. She gives him a little wave as she goes by, as though she were on a jolly jaunt through the woods.
Prince Mordred: "Bloody Faeries. Absolutely bonkers all of them."
The journey through the valley had seemed a lot shorter than it does now. He constantly glances back, hoping to see an unexpected end to the malevolent tornado, but all he sees are the knights fleeing for their lives against a bright, white backdrop that is getting bigger and bigger every passing minute.
When he reaches the base of the cliff he rears the horse before then galloping up the narrow path. It's stupidly dangerous, but hanging about is definitely worse. As he turns a corner, slowing right down before he gets to it, a sudden blast erupts from above him. He sees another arc of magical lightning appear in the sky - only this time it's coming from above him and is aimed straight at the storm. Sir Caelia, undoubtedly, but why the Hell she would think to use lightning against lightning is left an annoying mystery as he ascends.
When he does finally reach the top he almost falls off his horse as the beast is anxious to get off the harrowing path of the cliffside. He sees Sir Caelia stand on the edge of the cliff, a little too close for Mordred's comfort, where she's blasting the lightning. He hops off his mount and jogs over to her.
Prince Mordred: "What do you think you're doing? You're making it worse! Bigger even!"
Sir Caelia nods energetically.
Sir Caelia: "That's the idea!"
Mordred groans with frustration. She might actually just be insane, it is entirely possible. He never really understood any Aes Sidhe but the Faeries, Fairies and Pixies were always the worst of them in his experience. Mostly because they are all missing a few marbles. She could also be damned stupid, just like Lancelot, Kay and Galahad.
Having considered all of that, however, he's sure that Sir Caelia, at least, isn't daft and through her weirdness she has a mind as strong as even Queen Guinevere, perchance. So he decided that this obtuse mode of thinking is likely going to be the result of some intelligent plan. Either that or he should boot her off that cliff she's standing over. Decisions, decisions.
Sir Tristram appears on the cliff, meaning any surreptitious attempt to assassinate the wayward faerie is now off the table. Hopefully she isn't crazy after all.
Sir Tristram: "Why are you adding to that monstrous storm, Sir Caelia?"
Prince Mordred raises an eyebrow. Maybe Sir Tristram will murder Sir Caelia instead...
Sir Caelia: "Don't distract me while I'm busy."
Sir Tristram glances at Mordred, as though asking for his silent affirmation that it is okay to kill the faerie. But, instead, he just shakes his head, evidently coming to the same conclusion that Mordred had done.
Prince Mordred: "I just hope whatever your plan is works, Sir Caelia."
Sir Caelia: "Stop. Distracting. Me."
Eventually they're all up on top of the cliff and the tornado is almost upon them. King Arthur gets up last and sitting with his is none other than Gamma Pans. Mordred frowns.
Prince Mordred: "If Pans is here, then who--?"
King Arthur: "It's the other one. O-uh... Omlette Went."
Gamma Pans: "Omega Wier."
King Arthur: "Yeah, that guy. He duped us into chasing down Gamma Pans for the amulet."
Sir Lancelot: "The traitor! ONLY THE DEEPEST DEPTHS OF HE--"
Sir Caelia: "Shaddap!"
Lancelot pouts but remains quiet.
The tornado has reached a fevered pitch and Mordred must shield his eyes from the extraordinary light. He can feel static electricity all around him, the hair on his head spiking up. A sharp sting stabs his lip as a rogue spark erupts. A few yelps and groans from the others tells Mordred he isn't the only one being accosted by the static.
Just as it seems that the tornado will rise up and spill over the cliff it seems to falter. The entire thing flickers in and out of existence as it struggles to 'be'. Mordred assumes this is all thanks to Sir Caelia's mad plan. He notices even her own arcing lightning is flickering.
He looks to the others but they all seem just as puzzled.
Then, with a final surge towards them, the lightning tornado vanishes and Mordred can breathe freely.
Sir Kay: "Did anyone else soil themselves?"
King Arthur: "What happened?"
Arthur looks down over the cliff.
Sir Caelia pants.
Sir Caelia: "We used up all of the aether in the area. This planet isn't like Earth, there's not much aether here. It'll be a long, long time before enough aether seeps into this land."
While everyone else nods with understanding, Arthur winces with stressful contemplation.
Sir Caelia: "By the way, that bloke is still down there. I didn't kill him, he just can't use his amulet any more..."
King Arthur: "Knights! After the wretch! I'll... wait here."
Sir Kay: "You're actually going to make us go all the way back down there while you rest up here, eh?"
Sir Lancelot: "Stop complaining and act like a knight, Sir Kay. Onwards!"
Sir Lancelot, still full of energy despite the long trip up the cliff, charges down again.
Sir Kay: "I hope he breaks his leg."
Sir Tristram goes after Lancelot with a disgruntled Sir Kay also giving chase. Sir Caelia sighs.
Sir Caelia: "Mind if I rest here, my Lord?"
King Arthur: "I think you've earnt it. Well done."
Gamma Pans: "I'm sorry Omega Wier was able to deceive us all easily..."
Sir Caelia: "I'm surprised he was able to use the amulet so well."
A sudden air of possible deception hits the group and the humans all stare at Gamma Pans. He shuffles his feet uneasily. He gives a helpless shrug.
Gamma Pans: "It's been rumoured that my ancestors actually stole the amulet from his ancestors."
King Arthur: "So the amulet is rightfully his?"
Gamma Pans: "No! It's just a rumour. A long story. Someone claims something belonging to someone else a century ago, you can't still lay claim to it so long later."
King Arthur: "I think I could conjure up a casus belli based on that..."
Prince Mordred: "In the same vein, I reckon a few others could lay claim to Britannia, father..."
Arthur jerks at that idea.
King Arthur: "Uh, right. Okay. We return it to Custodian Pans. Besides, I like you more."
Gamma Pans: "Because I speak English, perhaps?"
King Arthur: "Actually, you're probably right. Still, it accounts for something, right!?"
Gamma Pans: "I just hope our lands can recover peacefully after all of this. I think the G-Krypton City will be forever changed. And our people may never trust the Custodians again. Maybe they'll blame the amulet?"
Arthur's eyes twinkle greedily.
King Arthur: "We can't have that, can we!? Perhaps... perhaps we should take it off your hands?"
Pans falls silent while Arthur waits on pins and needles. Mordred just rolls his eyes at his father's behaviour. Sir Caelia, however, seems almost as eager as Arthur himself.
Sir Caelia: "Perhaps the amulet would be safer in the hands of myself or Morganna le Fay? We have immense experience and knowledge of magic, Custodian. We may even discover its origins..."
Gamma Pans: "That would be something... but... I can't bear to part with it. It's an heirloom of my family - stolen a century ago or not..."
Arthur appears deflated. Mordred groans inwardly at his own coming words. Why he would help his father try to lay claim to something so precious he doesn't know, but he can't help but try to help his father get what he wants.
Prince Mordred: "You could come with us, Gamma."
The X-Krypton is shocked by that idea. Even Arthur looks perturbed.
Mordred just shrugs.
Prince Mordred: "Why not? We have Andy the rock-guy with us and that naked Jupiter woman seems like she'll be riding with us a while. An X-Krypton aboard shouldn't be such a surprise. Besides, Gamma, you said yourself, people might blame you and amulet and distrust the Custodians... seems you've no place here..."
In the Conference Room of Camelot, a room that is essentially a place filled with chairs, is where they put the round table. It sits in the centre of the room, before the unusual circlular, gold pad on the ground where a bunch of screens are on the wall. Admiral Ltexi explains that on her ship they had to install a lot of computers in this room so that they could better use the functions of the room. It's meant to be a backup bridge in case the primary bridge falls. Arthur just thinks it's a great place for a table.
He sits down. The table is huge and is actually a doughtnut shape, inspired by the baked goods of Doughnutdelf beneath Stonehenge. The architect of the table had been something of a doughtnut-connoisseur, whicch suited Arthur because he was rather fond of them too. Especially when they had blueberry jam in them.
King Arthur: "We really need to find a room where we can bake doughnuts!"
His fifty knights around the huge table fall silent.
King Arthur: "Uh... not that it's important. Just... came to me."
Sir Kay: "Thinking of doughnuts in the middle of an important meeting, brother?"
Queen Guinevere: "Actually, I think it's an excellent idea. We could use something to remind us of our homeland. I'll have someone find a suitable location. I'm certain someone must know of the doughnut recipees of the druids."
Sir Bedivere: "As nice as doughnuts would be, especially the hollowed ones with a sprinkle of sugar on them... can someone explain why we have the traitor aboard?"
He points to Gamma Pans. He's standing apart from the table because he isn't a knight. Only one extra chair sits at the table, making a total of fifty-one, and that chair is for the queen. Everyone else at the Round Table Council must stand out of the way. They're allows to listen but not take part, unlike the personal meetings that Arthur often holds with his friends and family. This means that even the young prince is confined to standing in the shadows, along with Gamma Pans. When the X-Krypton thinks he is being addressed by Sir Bedivere he opens his mouth to explain but Mordred quiets him and allows Arthur to explain instead.
After the king explains the events that took part in the abandonned Krypton city the knights quietly muse over the situation until the queen speaks up.
Queen Guinevere: "I think we have learnt a great deal from Saturn. It may be difficult to conquer alien beings and force them to adapt to our cultural norms. Therefore we should first, instead, focus on our original charge..."
King Arthur: "Colonisation! We need to find a suitable world to populate!"
Sir Bedivere: "I doubt we could find a second Earth within the confines of our solar system, sire."
Sir Galahad: "So we'll just leave the solar system? There are several more planets we still haven't explored!"
Commonly addressed as Tom a'Lincoln, when in his formal role he's better known as the Red Rose Knight. His armour is bronze coloured and worn beneath his stark white tabard on which is a stylised red rose.
Sir Red Rose Knight: "The computers say that the next planets are Uranus and Neptune. They're twin worlds. They're coloured blue."
Sir Kay snorts.
Sir Kay: "Because the colour of the planets is going to sway us..."
King Arthur: "I do like the colour blue..."
Sir Bedivere: "Me too."
Sir Lancelot: "Blue is a powerful and majestic colour."
Sir Caelia: "Blue is very pretty."
Sir Kay: "Damn..."
Sir Red Rose Knight: "So I should set a course for Uranus?"
Arthur nods.
King Arthur: "I believe we should see all our home system has to offer before departing. But this is a Round Table Council. That means the vote is down to everyone here and not I alone."
A series of agreements quickly spreads around the table with only a few people disgruntled at the idea of spending more time in the solar system.
King Arthur: "Seems a consensus is met. We'll head to Uranus. As we've mentioned, Custodian Pans will join us. I believe Admiral Ltexi of Jupiter will also join us so long as we are in the solar system. When we do decide to leave, she said she'll return to her people."
Sir Bedivere: "That's for the best. I don't trust her snooping around."
Queen Guinevere: "We have Merlin watching her, Sir Bedivere."
Sir Caelia: "Not that you can trust Merlin to tie her own shoelaces."
Arthur frowns.
King Arthur: "She doesn't have shoelaces!"
Caelia, rather than appear annoyed at the king's stupidity, seems rather entertained.
Sir Caelia: "Because she can't tie them!"
Arthur's face sparkles with enlightenment.
King Arthur: "Ah! I see!"
Queen Guinevere: "I'm sure Merlin can tie shoelaces, my dear, Sir Caelia is just being mean."
She pauses.
Queen Guinevere: "Probably."
Sir Lancelot: "While Merlin is babysitting our resident spy, it means she can't investigate the amulet we brought on board."
He glances at Gamma Pans. Despite being at the centre of all of this, Pans feels like he has little to no control over his immediate destiny.
Sir Tristram: "Lady Morganna is already looking into it."
Sir Caelia: "And I'll help her."
Sir Red Rose Knight: "But wouldn't Merlin's more academic approach to magic help with such an investigation? You know how she loves researching things."
Sir Caelia wafts her hand towards her husband.
Sir Caelia: "We'll manage without her, I don't doubt."
Sir Kay: "Just don't blow anything up this time."
There's a fretful murmur around the table.
Sir Caelia: "I'll be careful!! I would let it blow up too much."
Sir Kay: "Too much?"
Sir Caelia: "What's magic without the occasional explosion?"
Queen Guinevere: "We should remember, regardless, that the amulet belongs to Gamma Pans. It is only with his authorisation that any research be done at all."
Sir Caelia: "But--!"
King Arthur: "I think Guinevere is right."
He glances around.
King Arthur: "Doesn't anyone disagree with the queen?"
The knights are brought into line by Guinevere's serene smile and infallible moral superiority. Caelia sulks.
King Arthur: "Well then! We should move on to other important matters! Toilets! You need to start using them! Stop tossing buckets of poop into the corridors!!"
Sir Lancelot: "You want us to use those weird, watery holes!?"
Sir Kay: "I dropped a bar of soap into one and it was sucked away. Never to return. What happens if we fall in!"
Sir Bedivere: "I assure you, you won't fall in. Many of us have been using these... loos."
Queen Guinevere: "This might take some time..."
Space Camelot: Onwards to Uranus
As Space Camelot nears the next planet, Uranus, Merlin and Sir Bedivere watch carefully through the viewports.
Sir Bedivere: How peculiar! There are all manner of contraptions floating over the planet.
Merlin: They seem to be manmade. And look! Great tubes connecting them down to the surface. I wonder why.
Sir Bediverse: Perhaps stairs to ascend and descend to and from the surface? Though that would be quite a climb.
Admiral Ltexi: Those are orbital mining stations. Those 'tubes' are pipes that funnel up the ambient aether of Uranus--
Sir Kay snorts. Admiral Ltexi continues without missing a beat, unperturbed.
Admiral Ltexi: --to be processed and shipped to customers who desire magical fuel.
Merlin: Is there no magic beyond the solar system?
She looks horrified at the thought.
Morganna: Don't be daft, Baldy. Magic is everywhere. But the aether may be...thinner...beyond Earth.
Sir Caelia: Not on Uranus. The aether here is nearly as pure and plentiful as Earth's. There's a nexus down there somewhere, generating it.
She wrinkles her nose, as if sniffing something.
Sir Caelia: It's still different from Earth's aether...but I can't quite put my finger on it.
Shortly, the knights are in their space boat, alighting on a landing pad.
King Arthur: A new world! Full of glories and wealth!
Sir Galahad: And honor!
Sir Lancelot: And wenches!
Sir Bedivere: If the wenches are anything like Saturn's, you may not be so eager.
Sir Mordred: At least it can't smell worse than Saturn.
The space boat's door opens, and the warm breeze blows into their faces.
Sir Mordred: ...I was wrong!
Sir Caelia: Oh, THAT'S what's different about the aether here!
So saying, the woman steps sprightly off the space boat, and reluctantly, the knights follow, despite their gagging. The air of Uranus smells like farts!
Determined not to be outdone by anyone, King Arthur quickly takes the lead, marching down the street.
Morganna: Brother dear. Their castle is the other way.
Without missing a beat, Arthur does an about-face and marches towards the largest building of the city. Like the other structures here, it is taller than it is wide, and sways slightly in the fart-scented breezes. Blue vines and moss crawl over the exterior surfaces.
Arthur marches through the door.
King Arthur: The king has arrived!
The being sitting behind the desk in front of him, looks up at him. A name badge is affixed to his lapel, and it reads 'Nerifian'.
Nerifian: He has?! I didn't even know he left!
From behind Arthur, Sir Bedivere calls out.
Sir Bedivere: That is, the visiting king of another realm has arrived.
Nerifian: Ah! Dignitaries! Greetings, your majesty.
Arthur is too flummoxed to respond for a moment, and finally recovers speech.
King Arthur: You're...an ASS!
Nerifian, who is standing up behind the desk, is taken aback.
Nerifian: I BEG your pardon?!
Merlin: Please forgive us, sir. The king is merely expressing his delight at seeing a new race for the first time, one with a donkey's head.
For indeed Nerifian, though human (or at least humanoid) from the neck down, has the head of an ass. He neighs irritably.
Nerifian: I see. I suppose we fayries aren't as widespread as we would like to be.
King Arthur: Fairies with asses' heads?!
Sir Caelia: Fayries, sire. Not fairies or faeries.
[i]The look of confusion on Arthur's face does not clear.
Sir Caelia: Different spellings.
King Arthur: Ah!
Admiral Ltexi saunters in. Nerifian brightens to see her.
Nerifian: Ah! My Lady Admiral! So good to see you. You must forgive me, I'm greeting these royal dignitaries.
Admiral Ltexi: They're with me.
King Arthur: We are not. She's with us!
Ltexi and Nerifian both ignore him.
Nerifian: Ah! That's alright then. Did you not school them on the fayries before bringing them here?
King Arthur: We brought HER here.
Admiral Ltexi: And miss the opportunity to see their faces? I should think not!
Nerifian: Odd, though. I thought all Jovians knew of the fayries. We are virtually next door neighbours after all.
Admiral Ltexi: They're not Jovians! How can you possibly confuse us?
Nerifian: You all look the same to me.
Admiral Ltexi: I should say not! We Jovians are prime specimens of beauty and handsomeness! Not like these human peasants!
Nerifian: Well, you all have those funny little heads, and tiny buttocks...
It's true. Nerifian - and presumably the other ass-headed fayries - have incredibly substantial asses. It's a rapper's wet dream.
Nerifian: Wait, did you say humans? Have you been to Earth? Your race is just about the only one that can visit our sister planet without some sort of uncanny misfortune.
King Arthur: We're FROM Earth.
Nerifian: I see! I've always wished to visit it. So rich in magic, I hear!
Sir Caelia: Your own world is rich in magic. Albeit, not as rich, nor as, shall I say, clean.
Nerifian scrunches his brow.
Nerifian: Have the street-cleaners gone on strike AGAIN?
Merlin: So you fayries are the equivalent of fairies and faerie on Earth? Beings that thrive off magic?
Nerifian: Quite so. Tis why we sell aether in large quantities throughout the galaxies. Creates a tidy profit AND spreads concentrations of aether to other planets, enabling us to visit or even settle them.
Sir Mordred: Does the stink go along with your shipments?
Nerifian looks blankly at Sir Mordred.
Sir Mordred: Nevermind.
Sir Bediverse: Why is there such a strong concentration of magic here though? Saturn was weaker, and according to the admiral's anecdotes--
Admiral Ltexi: They were facts, not 'anecdotes'.
Sir Bedivere: Magic is generally weaker beyond Earth.
Nerifian: Legend says that, billions of years ago, the god over all magic brooded here, having lost his prized planet Earth in a failed wager. Here he looked longingly at Earth and dreamed up ways to get it back, and finally tried to replicate its nexes here.
Morganna: He seems to have had some success.
Sir Caelia: Some. But I can only sense one great nexus.
Nerifian: Most worlds do not have a great nexus at all! Now we have dithered too long. I must introduce you, as visiting royalty, to the Fayrie King - ruler by divine right, descended directly from the HorseGod!
Sir Mordred snorts.
Space Camelot: Space Zebra
Space Camelot: Space Zebra
Characters: King Arthur | Queen Guinevere | Prince Mordred | Morganna le Fay | Merlin the Younger | Sir Kay | Sir Lancelot | Sir Bedivere | Sir Galahad | Sir Tristram | Sir Caelia | Sir Red Rose Knight | Sir Black Knight | Sir Faerie Knight | Andy | Admiral Ltexi | Gamma Pans | Nerifian | Fayrie King | Monde
Arthur and the knights stare at Fayrie King, their brains puzzling over the sight of the black-and white striped horse-head.
Fayrie King: "What's wrong with you people?"
Prince Mordred: "What... kind of horse are you supposed to be?"
The Fayrie King looks a little irked. Or as irked as Mordred could tell from his equine features.
Fayrie King: "I'm a zebra-head."
The humans look dumbfounded.
Sir Bedivere: "A... zee-bat?"
King Arthur: "What kind of weird pronunciation is that, Sir Bedivere? It was clearly zeb. Zeb-rat!"
Fayrie King: "I don't appreciate American to British pronunciation jokes, you know?"
King Arthur: "What's an American?"
The king flinches and then blinks in wonder when he realises he has no idea what an 'American' is, it just seemed like the right thing to say at the time.
Sir Bedivere: "Likely some form of magic, Sire."
Prince Mordred: "Considering this place, it's probably a word for bad smell."
As if on cue a tremendous lurch in stench arises to offend their nostrils.
Sir Caelia: "Is someone brewing up a particularly nasty spell here!?"
Tears stain her cheeks as she gasps for breath. The Fayrie King himself is now wincing.
Fayrie King: "I can--"
He gasps.
Fayrie: "Assume you that is not one of us!"
Sir Kay: "I am a ninja... silent and extremely deadly!" :ninja:
Sir Lancelot: "I hate ninjas!"
King Arthur: "Brother... are you trying to assassinate me!?"
Sir Lancelot: "I shall defend you from the ass!"
Nerifian: "Me!? What did I do!"
King Arthur: "An ass-assass-in?"
Nerifian: "Can you please stop saying ass? I prefer to be called donkey."
Prince Mordred: "Does this mean Sir Kay is an American?"
Sir Bedivere: "Or he just did an American..."
Sir Caelia: "Can we stop talking about Americans? It's revolting."
She whirls a finger towards Sir Kay.
Sir Caelia: "And don't drop any Americans on us. I couldn't tolerate another."
Sir Kay holds his hands up in surrender.
Sir Kay: "I shall keep my Americans to myself for now!"
King Arthur: "That wasn't a good start to our meeting, was it?"
Prince Mordred glances at his father, instantly wishing Queen Guinevere was here. Leaving Sir Kay and his Americans in charge would probably result in better relations with the Zeb-arr faced king than any word from Arthur's mouth.
Fayrie King: "Well, I suppose it was something of an ice-breaker."
King Arthur raises an eyebrow.
King Arthur: "I suppose one of Kay's Americans could break ice, sure. Not that there's any here."
Sir Caelia: "Please! Enough with the Americans!"
Mordred decides to interject and, hopefully, steer the conversation in a more riveting direction - lest Sir Caelia starts churning up the aether around them and performing some real Americans within everyone's brains. Mordred doesn't fancy becoming a drooling vegetable.
He glances at his father.
Maybe a drooling vegetable is what it means to be "British".
Prince Mordred: "So, ah, your majesty--"
King Arthur: "Yes?"
Prince Mordred: "Not you, father."
Fayrie King: "Yes, young prince?"
Prince Mordred: "Are you the ass king?"
Several knights snicker.
Prince Mordred: "I mean are you the king of the asses?"
More fervent snickering.
Fayrie King: "Of the ass-headed people, yes."
Even Sir Bedivere snorts at that.
Fayrie King: "And pretty much any equestrian-headed individual. We have lived on this planet for-- ah, a long time. We have, however, reached our twilight age."
His sombre tone sobers up the knights and several of them have the decency to look guilty for chuckling childishly.
Nerifan: "The king is referring to our state of impotence."
Unfortunately the knights start laughing again at that. Mordred scowls at them since he considered that to just be bullying.
Sir Caelia: "You mean-- all of you?"
Nerifan nods slowly while the king continues to look glum.
Nerifan: "We have a lifespan of a thousand years, on average, plenty of time for making babies, we thought."
King Arthur: "I'd say! I'd probably have at least seven-hundred babies in that amount of time!"
Prince Mordred: "While Sire Lancelot would have had two-thousand. Two-thousand bastards anyway."
Sir Galahad: "Oi! I'm not a *******!"
Prince Mordred: "I'd rather be a ******* of Lancelot than his acknowledge heir. That way I could pretend he isn't my father."
Sir Lancelot: "That attitude is going to find you few friends, princeling."
Prince Mordred: "Or at least find me friends that haven't got a few hundred STDs."
There's a pause.
Sir Lancelot: "And what is an STD?"
Everyone slowly shuffles away from Sir Lancelot uncomfortably.
King Arthur: "I think you were going to explain why you are all impotent, Nerifan."
Nerifan: "It's the aether industry. What made us prosperous has also doomed us. Through a few generations our numbers dwindled and nobody cared to ask. We are a fairly sedentary people. Unhurried as a general rule..."
Sir Tristram: "Weird for horse-people."
Nerifan: "I'm a donkey-head. When was the last time you saw donkeys galloping about?"
Sir Tristram: "I... suppose..."
Nerifan: "It's just how we've evolved. When you live a longer life, you generally become slower paced. Why hurry, you have a thousand years to go!"
Fayrie King: "Ah, it is not just that. We have also grown lazy! Our entire generation had come to rely on the constructs built by our fathers and forefathers. We stopped asking questions and just used what was available to us. Our primary computer, named Monde, essentially runs and, dare I say, governs the planet. I actually have to do very little."
King Arthur: "I can't decide whether that sounds great or dreadful. Being king and not have to do anything! But... kind of makes you seem pretty powerless..."
Fayrie King shrugs.
Fayrie King: "You wouldn't be wrong, human king. There's just nothing for me to do. No orders to give, no schemes to plot. Monde takes care of all our needs and most of our needs are maintained by our constructs."
Morganna le Fay rolls her eyes is boredom.
Morganna: "Look. As riveting as this story surely is not, it serves us nothing. These fayries have grown to rely too much on their constructs and now they've stopped trying to understand or innovate. So now they're paying the price for their complacency. Great. Time for us to leave this stinking planet."
King Arthur: "I thought you'd enjoy the opportunity to investigate the magic here?"
Morganna: "There's nothing to be gained from artificial processes."
Sir Caelia now rolls her eyes.
Sir Caelia: "You're so behind the times, Morganna."
Merlin: "I think it'd be fascinating to check out the constructs! If we could replicate even a fraction of their technology, think of the wonders we could achieve with harnessing aether!"
Sir Caelia: "See?"
Morganna: "Magic is an art, it's nature. It's not for disecting and bashing with rocks. You've always been so keen on debasing everything that magical arts stand for, Merlin."
Merlin: "I do not! Magic is a science! If understood properly, we could achieve great deeds! Improve lives--!"
Morganna: "I'm leaving."
She turns and stalks out of the room. Mordred watches after her worriedly. She's a strong woman but she takes her magic seriously and never liked the way Merlin treated it as 'process' instead of the overflow of sensations as Morganna does. Merlin seems to appear a little guilty but Sir Caelia nudges her shoulder in enthusiasm.
Sir Caelia: "You showed that old fuddy-duddy."
Merlin: "I thought you'd be more... like her if I'm honest, Caelia. With you being a faerie and all."
The short woman shrugs.
Sir Caelia: "I am by nature. I am magic. But that doesn't mean I can't appreciate moving with the times! Besides, how much harm could it do?"
They both turn to look at Nerifan and the Fayrie King and remembered that they'd turned themselves impotent through magical technology.
Sir Caelia: "We just have to remember to be careful, right?"
Sir Lancelot: "What can we do to save your people, Fayrie King?"
The zebra-head grins a horse-toothed grin. Or zebra-toothed as the case may be.
Fayrie King: "I admire your spirit, good knight! Alas, what has been done cannot be undone. My generation will be the last of our kind. Another few hundred years and we'll have died out. All except our noble god."
Lancelot winces.
Sir Lancelot: "Perhaps it is faith in this heathen god that has led to your peoples' fate?"
There's a sudden tense silence.
Sir Bedivere: "Maaaaaaaybe we shouldn't be so quick to try and convert everyone we come across, dear Sir Lancelot?"
Sir Lancelot: "Well, it's true! God may yet save them if they turn away from--"
Seeing the rage building up in the supposed descendent of the horse-god, Prince Mordred hops forward as energetically as he can muster. He slaps his hands together to draw attention away from the buffoon.
Prince Mordred: "Why don't you show us some of these constructs, your majesty!? I'm sure Merlin would love to study your, uh, processors?"
Sir Bedivere: "And I would very much like to see this Monde machine that governs your lives."
The Fayrie King rises from his seat. He suddenly looks much older as he hunches over and steps down slowly from his podium.
Fayrie King: "Very well! Nerifan can show you the processors, I shall introduce you to Monde as only a few have access to its mainframe."
Nerifan sweeps his arm and most of the crew follow after him, Merlin especially scuttling off happily. The Fayrie King begins his slow hobble and before he had taken more then ten steps, some of his followers grew too impatient and doubled back to go and follow Nerifan instead. Only Arthur, Mordred, Bedivere and The Black Knight remain to stroll after him. Mordred doesn't mind much, giving him the opportunity to look over the place without the incessant prattling of the idiot knights.
Upon the walls are mounted heads. Initially Mordred thought that they must be sculpted, but when he got close to one he chose to poke it. It is soft. He reels back.
Prince Mordred: "A-A-Are they real heads!?"
The Fayrie King glances back with a smile.
Fayrie King: "Of course! What did you expect!?"
Even Arthur, who likes to show off, can't approve of this particular showing off.
King Arthur: "Mounting the heads of your enemies like trophies?"
Fayrie King: "Nay!"
The humans glance at each other.
King Arthur: "Did you just neigh or did you say nay?"
The alien king glowers at them.
Fayrie King: "What kind of zebras neigh?"
Sir Bedivere: "We don't know what a zee-bat is, your majesty."
King Arthur: "Zeb-rat, Sir Bedivere."
Fayrie King just shakes his head and resumes his slow trek.
Fayrie King: "They are the heads of my kinsmen. They are mounted here in their honour, so we might gaze upon them and remember. Do you not do the same to your loved ones?"
The humans shake their heads in mutual horror.
Fayrie King: "Such barbarians... Sorry. I didn't mean to say that aloud..."
As he walks he points to a brown headed equine upon the wall.
Fayrie King: "This is my brother. A good and honourable fayrie if ever the was one."
Sir Bedivere: "Shouldn't he be black-and-white like yourself?"
Fayrie King: "We had different mothers. I am zebra, while he is a zony."
Sir Bedivere is furiously scribbly that word down in a little books he's whipped from his tabard.
Prince Mordred: "A what?"
Fayrie King: "Oh. You might think of him as a cross between a zebra and a pony."
King Arthur: "A pony!?"
Sir Bedivere: "This is all very fascinating. It's a wonder how two different... what shall I call them... sub-species? They can breed and create and entirely new kind of creature! Quite unusual."
King Arthur: "Pretty sure there's something unnatural about all this. I doubt God would be very impressed."
Fayrie King: "Your knight said something similar. What is this god's name?"
King Arthur: "Just God."
Fayrie King: "That seems very arrogant of him."
King Arthur: "Because he's the one true God."
Fayrie King: "Then he's also very selfish. My ancestral god is always happy to acknowledge other gods! There's many of them out there, you know?"
King Arthur: "Pretenders, I'm sure."
Prince Mordred: "I'm beginning to wonder..."
Sir Bedivere: "Perhaps these other gods are simply manifestations of God in other guises? And these aliens, simple as they are, attributed their own narrative upon Him?"
Fayrie King: "Did you just capitalise your 'H'?"
Sir Bedivere: "What?"
King Arthur: "He did."
Sir Bedievere: "I did? Speaking?"
Fayrie King: "Arrogant indeed..."
They pass through a tunnel that is actually a series of arches joined together and emerge upon a narrow spiral staircase leading downwards. Their progression becomes even slower as the king takes each and every step one at a time.
Black Knight: "I should have gone with the others... kill me now..."
Prince Mordred: "Why did you come this way?"
Black Knight: "To protect you!"
She hesitates.
Black Knight: "And the king, of course."
Prince Mordred: "You think we'll need protecting from a zem-ban that can barely gets down a flight of stairs?"
Sir Bedivere: "Zee-bat, my prince."
King Arthur: "Tsk! Zeb-rat!"
Black Knight: "I wish we had brought our space helmets with us. It would keep out these toxic fumes."
Sir Bedivere: "They're not toxic, Sir Black Knight."
Black Knight: "My nose doesn't agree with you."
Sir Bedivere: "It's probably good for the humours."
Fayrie King: "Humours? I'm not sure a bad smell would be especially uplifting, if you ask me. Luckily I can't smell whatever you're talking about."
Sir Bedivere: "I don't mean humour as in comedy. I'm speaking about health."
Fayrie King glances back with a stupified look on his face -- which looks extra-stupified because his face is a zebra's.
Sir Bedivere: "There are four humours, your majesty, which dictate health. Blood, black bile, yellow bile and phelgm. Keeping these under control will determine a healthy life. All diseases are caused by an imbalance of these humours."
Fayrie King: "My, my. Such interesting ideas you humans have."
Sir Bedivere: "I am certain the processing of aether has likely caused your blood to thin and your phelgm to increase. I certainly feel my phelgm thickening the longer I'm here."
Black Knight: "I thought you said it'd be good for my humours?"
Sir Bedivere: "Sometimes we must be cruel to be kind."
Fayrie King: "Is that Shakespeare?"
Sir Bedivere: "No, I am Sir Bedivere. Is Sir Shakespeare one of your own knights, your majesty?"
Fayrie King: "No. Actually I have no idea who Shakespeare is. Your line just sounds very much like it was said by Shakespeare. Whoever he is."
Sir Bedivere: "Well... either way, sometimes we must imbalance our humours in order to keep them working normally. If we avoid all imbalance always, then they'll be terrible at rectifying themselves when we are truly sick!"
Black Knight: "I do wonder how you can be so smart, Sir Bedivere!"
Fayrie King: "I wonder, indeed..."
Mordred feels the king is restraining some comment and decides the zebra-headed man must be wise, indeed, to hold back. Perhaps he doesn't wish to be punted down the stairs. Wise indeed.
They reach the bottom and find a solid wall of blue in front of them. Mordred might have thought this a deadend if he didn't think the king is smarter than that.
King Arthur: "A deadend? Maybe you forgot which way to go?"
Mordred rolls his eyes.
The Fayrie King reaches out and, with the wave of his hand, the magical barrier becomes translucent. He then hobbles through it and the humans, with a little tredpidation, do likewise. Mordred looks back at the barrier as it forms up behind them. It isn't such a dissimilar barrier to those he had seen the Aes Sidhe cast on Earth, but they're usually not such a full colour. He supposes the king doesn't want people to come peeking into the room.
Right now it's in complete darkness save for an eerie green glow of two large spheres in the centre of the room.
Monde: "Greetings, non-fayrie organics."
The king, from the shadows, speaks;
Fayrie King: "This is Monde. A hivemind of The Imperium."
Space Camelot: Dream Space Pt I
Space Camelot: Dream Space Pt I
Characters: King Arthur | Queen Guinevere | Prince Mordred | Morganna le Fay | Merlin the Younger | Sir Kay | Sir Lancelot | Sir Bedivere | Sir Galahad | Sir Tristram | Sir Caelia | Sir Red Rose Knight | Sir Black Knight | Sir Faerie Knight | Andy | Admiral Ltexi | Gamma Pans | Nerifian | Fayrie King | Monde
The gigantic processors are bigger than any building the humans have seen (then again they've never seen the Empire State Building) or even dreamt of. Each processor has a wide flat top that is then surrounded by four, fat funnels that reach up high into the atmosphere to soak in the aether up there. Upon one of the processors appears to be a wild and vibrant garden.
Quite unlike anything else on Uranus, the garden appears much like a garden of Eden conceived by the mind of a human, not a Uranus-bound fayrie. Tall trees blooming with assorted flowers of pink and blue, seeming to glow their hue with a magical aura, and shrubbery that would make even the Knights of Ni happy. A small path runs through the mini-woodland, but it's little more than well-trodden soil that has been walked by the woodland's inhabitants.
Or rather it was all of this. Now it is nothing but a sample of what once was. A remnant of Avalon, saved by Morganna le Fay. Her island home, created from her very being and, now, lost forever. For her brother's mad quest. She had believed, in some small way, it would be worth it. But, standing in her magical projection she can't help but question the decision to aid him in his ambition. She isn't blinded by her love. She's well aware of his short-comings, but she is also well-aware that she can't help but love the man. Even when unrequited. It's too late now, however. All she can do is come here and lament the loss whenever she is alone.
Lament... and plot.
Sir Caelia: "So this is what you do every time you go skulking away..."
Morganna's attention snaps to the sudden arrival of the faerie woman. Her shock subsides quickly and she just sighs as she nods, conceding the point.
Sir Caelia walks upon the soft soil so lightly that she leaves no trace upon the earth. She winds through the trees like a mystical spirit, her white and white visage contrasting so clearly with the green and brown of the wood.
Sir Caelia: "I miss this place too."
A large-leafed plant shudders and moves one of its broad, green leaves for Morganna to sit upon. She crosses her legs at the knee and leans upon the apparently very sturdy foliage. She tilts her neck with mild curiosity.
Morganna: "Funny. Being a faerie, I thought you'd hate my garden paradise. I know fairies loved it, but a faerie?"
Sir Caelia: "I did. But now... just seeing it again makes me nostalgic I suppose. I used to long for fields of cold, pristine snow instead of all this... chattering life around me all the time. But, you know, your island had magic in abundance. Probably one of the only places so bristling with the stuff, apart from the nexuses."
Morganna: "Nexuses? That doesn't sound right..."
Sir Caelia: "Nexi?"
Morganna: "I don't think so..."
Sir Caelia: "Nexae?"
Morganna just shrugs her shoulders with a small smile.
Morganna: "Who bloody knows, eh? Languages is stupid."
Sir Caelia: "Human language, maybe!"
Morganna: "Human languages? You know in France they speak French, right? Hell even the Welsh speak their own tongue-twisting language."
Sir Caelia wafts her small, delicate hand dismissively.
Sir Caelia: "Just shout your words slowly and make wild gestures with your hand and they'll understand well enough!"
Morganna laughs.
Morganna: "Not like your husband, are you?"
Sir Caelia: "Opposites attract, right? Though I suppose not in your case..."
Caelia manages to smile coyly, but it did nothing to mask the mischief sparkling in her eyes. Morganna returns with a smile of her own, one of knowing arrogance and and sly acceptance of the fact.
Morganna: "Quite."
Sir Caelia hops onto a massive mushroom, looking just like a little child with her legs crossed and draped in oversized garments. Her impish, cherub face is constantly alight.
Sir Caelia: "You're up to something, aren't you?"
Morganna: "When am I not? I wouldn't be Morganna le Fay if I wasn't plotting to rape, seduce or otherwise elope with my brother. Sometimes I think he enjoys the prospect."
Sir Caelia: "I know his wife doesn't."
Morganna: "Guinevere, Guinevere, Guinevere... such a sly fox."
Morganna purses her lips together in contempt.
Morganna: "She is not the wholesome wonder that everyone thinks she is. I can tell you that much!"
Sir Caelia beams and wiggles her arms excitedly.
Sir Caelia: "Oh! Oh! Gossip time!"
Morganna feigns her inability to divulge for a few minutes, pretending to be under duress at Caelia's nagging for information, until she, seemingly, relents;
Morganna: "Don't you think there's a certain young man that looks suspiciously akin to our saintly queen?"
Caelia raises an eyebrow and thinks before shrugging helplessly.
Morganna: "That sharp bridge of the nose, but delicate nostrils? The strong cheekbones? The high forehead? Milky white skin?"
Still on the nose details, Caelia frowns.
Sir Caelia: "No.... you can't mean..."
Morganna: "I shall say nothing more!"
She waves her hand dramatically.
Sir Caelia: "No way, Morgan! Impossible! The boy... I mean his father, we all know! He would never..."
Morganna: "Wouldn't he?"
Sir Caelia: "I mean... no! It'd be too much of a betrayal! Aside from losing his head, his honour would... But... you know, if it's true... that would make the boy, Galahad, a legitimate heir to the kingdom..."
Morganna suddenly perks up with cautious curiosity.
Morganna: "What do you mean? He'd be Guinevere's son, not Arthur's!"
Sir Caelia: "Uther Pendragon only had the caesus belli, the right, to be king of Britannia... he didn't have the means. That was Arthur. Sure he fought wars, but how did he obtain Wales and Hen Ogledd? Through marriage to Guinevere. That's how. They're partners on the throne. She's not subject to Arthur. So if she has an heir apart from Arthur, that heir is still entitled to at least half of the kingdom, I'd say."
Morganna's draw drops and Caelia smiles a little at the expression. She gives a tiny shrug.
Sir Caelia: "But what do I know of human politics?"
Morganna: "But then Mordred would also--"
Sir Caelia: "Incest child."
Morganna glowers.
Morganna: "You know, I never said Galahad was Guinevere's child. You just assu--"
Sir Caelia: "I can't wait to spread this juicy gossip around the camp!"
Morganna: "Come on! You know I was lying! I just said it because I hate Guinevere!"
Sir Caelia: "Hmmm, maybe... but Galahad does, now that you say, bear a striking resemblance..."
She jumps to her feet, ready to saunter off. Morganna follows suit, a little too hurriedly.
Morganna: "Wait, wait. He is definitely not Guinevere's son. I know that for a fact, Caelia."
Sir Caelia: "Suddenly so quick to defend the queen's honour, eh?"
Morganna: "I know Galahad isn't Guinevere's son, because I know at the time his real mother just looked like Guinevere."
Sir Caelia rubs her chin in exaggerated consideration.
Sir Caelia: "Maybe. Okay, I'm going now!"
She turns away but then stops and glances back.
Sir Caelia: "Did you say at the time?"
Morganna looks sheepish.
Sir Caelia: "Ho ho ho! You do know who the boy's mother is!"
Sir Bedivere: "So Monde will tell you when to eat and what to eat?"
Fayrie King: "All based on your brainwave patterns, it can detect what food would most satisfy your pleasure centres. But also it is capable of maintaining healthy eating, so it will ensure that what you eat will satisfy your cravings but not at the expense of your health. Really, it manages your life much better than you ever could yourself."
King Arthur: "But that doesn't really sound like much... fun."
Fayrie King: "Oh! We have lots of fun! Monde can determine what exactly we'd find fun at any given moment. It constantly ensues interesting experiences are to be found."
The humans look dubiously at each other.
King Arthur: "So is your kingdom named The Imperium? Sounds suspiciously Roman to me."
Fayrie King chuckles lightly.
Fayrie King: "I doubt that I could be trusted with running something like The Imperium..."
Bedivere, Mordred and The Black Knight all glance at their king, thinking exactly the same thing about him.
Fayrie King: "My kingdom is part of The Imperium."
His face suddenly lights up.
Fayrie King: "If you're interested in joining The Imperium, they're always looking for new applicants! Big, small, weak or powerful - The Imperium embraces all walks of life!"
King Arthur: "Uh... no. Thanks."
Sir Bedivere: "So your benefactor provides you with technology?"
Fayrie King: "Should it be requested for, yes. Monde is just one sample. Monde uses data collected from across... countless cultures and correlates patterns and habits of organics, allowing the device to be incredibly precise. In fact, we should have some dinner! Monde!"
Monde: "Yes?"
Fayrie King: "What should I have for dinner?"
Monde: "Lemongrass soaked in vril for ten days."
Fayrie King: "That would be perfect!"
The humans look grim.
Monde: "Your companions, however, aren't likely to enjoy lemongrass."
Fayrie King: "Now that is a shame..."
Monde: "Nor should they drink so much vril else their internal organs may well implode."
Their grim faces transform into horrified faces.
Fayrie King: "Oh right. Yes. I think you're right..."
He looks to the humans.
Fayrie King: "Liquid magic, essentially. Liquid aether perhaps. However you call it, it's perfect for beings made of magic, such as myself. But you more..."
He taps his zebra chin as he tries to think of the right word.
Fayrie King: "You inmagical beings may not want to be exposed to too much of the stuff."
King Arthur: "Right. Well I don't want to... implode. So I think we'll skip dinner. I want to move onto the next world in the solar system anyway. Neptune, right?"
Fayrie King: "You want to visit Neptune? That's one of our worlds too."
King Arthur: "It is?"
Fayrie King nods.
Fayrie King: "Billions of years ago The Imperium installed what we usually call The Dream Gate. They have these gates all over the place, but here a very unique one was set up so that the amount of aether available would increase exponentially. I believe you have a similar system on your Earth?"
King Arthur: "We do?"
Sir Bedivere: "I suppose you must be referring to The Rift and our connection to Albion?"
Fayrie King: "Ah! Albion! That's the place. Magical folk, we do like a good gossip, you know?"
Prince Mordred: "So, after all that time the ather from Uranus went to Neptune?"
Fayrie King: "That's right. Basically terraformed Neptune into a near duplicate of Uranus. Now its entire ecosystem is self-sustained. Not like your Albion, which needs to be constantly fed. Neptune doesn't consume, only produces magic."
Sir Bedivere: "So that's why they're twin worlds..."
King Arthur: "So there's nothing there?"
He looks dejected.
Fayrie King: "Just our processors. We mostly mix up batches of vril there. Nothing to see, really, unless you like manufacturies?"
Sir Bedivere brightens, while everyone else sours. The Fayrie King looks concerned, unhappy that he's ruined his guests spirits about their trip to Neptune. He thinks for a moment and then beams.
Fayrie King: "There is an very beautiful relic to look at, if you're into ancient and mysterious spacecraft!?"
Arthur almost jumps for joy.
King Arthur: "Ancient and mysterious spacecrafts are our specialty!!"
Fayrie King: "Well then, perhaps a visit is in order after all?"
Sir Galahad admires the skyline from the wide balcony. The entire planet of Uranus is blanketed both above and below by thick clouds. Usually aether is entirely invisible to the human eye, except when in such a high amounts that it forms into clouds - much like humidity becoming rainclouds. Aether is generally heavier than air and so it descends to the surface of the planet and hangs there as thick, blue fog. He can't see them, but the ass-head-guy said there's entire lakes and rivers of vril, liquid aether, lurking below the fog. Some of the aether, especially when impure, sits atop the atmosphere as the shroud of blue that coats the planet Uranus from sight when orbiting the world. When he and Mordred had spoken of the planet earlier, Mordred had called it a gas giant. Galahad thinks the prince may have been right about that.
Jutting up from the foggy landscape below are tall, metallic pillars - the massive processors that churn up the aether into products for sale throughout the galaxy. They're so tall that they ascend into the upper atmosphere where they become invisible to Galhad because of the cloud cover. The main building itself is usually below said cloud layer, but the chimneys extend well beyond the roof of the manufactory. He turns back into the room where most of the rest of his party are gathered.
There's a great orb floating above them that, as the ass-head-guy said, has something to do with powering the facility. Merlin said it was similar to the engine aboard Camelot and, since then, has been pouring over it like an overly-affectionate pet owner desperately trying to force her new pet to love her. He watches as she strokes one of the magical windows that shows her information about the device. He shakes his head disapprovingly.
Nerifan: "And here you can see a vial of vril. Very, very potent. More so than aether."
The ass-head-guy marches into the room with a small vial between his thick fingers. Galahad had noticed that these fayries are especially hairy. Not like animals, but certainly more hairy than the average human. The backs of Nerifan's hands are thick with dark hair. Even his fingers are pretty hairy.
Considering Nerifan said the vril in the vial is incredibly potent, he wields the little glass container rather nonchalantly as he passes it from one hand to the other to better show Merlin. Merlin is entirely oblivious to the danger as she swipes the vial and glares into its contents before her eager eye.
Sir Kay and Sir Lancelot, his father, are playing rock-paper-scissors. Evidently the processors became dull after little more than a cusory glance at them. Sir Tristram, as always, appears to be in deep thought. Sometimes Galahad wonders if he's actually just thinking of his dinner and simply has one of those 'deep and insightful' faces. Galahad's best friend, Sir Gawain, looks up to Tristram as a mentor, as does Prince Mordred. Galahad, though, thinks his own father makes a better knight - bound by honour, duty and chivalry, while Tristram represents skill, cunning and determination. None of these are bad deeds, but to Galahad they make a warrior of any land, not a Knight of Camelot. And certainly, Galahad thinks, Tristram's wife, Isolde of the White Hands, oughtn't be considered a Knight of the Round Table at all.
Sir Galahad, however, thinks he should strive to be the greatest knight that he can be - both in body and in spirit.
Nerifan: "I've just been informed that your king shall be joining you on the planet Neptune."
The people in the room glance at eahc other, confused.
Merlin: "How will he get there?"
Nerifan: "He'll go through the Dream Gate, I imagine. You will have to take the long route there, I'm afraid."
Admiral Ltexi: "Hey! I want to use the Dream Gate!"
Merlin: "Me too!"
Nerifan: "Sorry..."
He glances at Merlin apologetically, then turns to Ltexi.
Nerifan: "You're not allowed to use our technology. No offence to ours guests meant when I say this but... your people, admiral, could pose a problem to us and we'd rather you weren't privy to our secrets. At least not first-hand."
The Jupiterian sulks and crosses her arms across her bosom. Galahad often finds himself truly amazed by this strange, alien woman. Her incredible beauty seems strangely marred, in his mind, by her peculiar, boorish behaviour. She has none of the elegance, grace and modesty of Queen Guinevere. She is not what the knights are supposed to be rescuing. Yet, despite this, he finds her oddly alluring. It could be her nakedness, her long legs bare for viewing, or there could be something attractive in a woman who isn't in need of saving. Many of the lady knights of the round table prove themselves, often, better than any man. Yet he and his father are still always saving women across the land. He isn't sure what he is supposed to appreciate in a woman but his father swears off marriage and so, for now, Galahad tries to keep thoughts of the exotic Lady Ltexi from his mind. Desperately tries to force them from his mind because often he catches himself daydreaming at the worst times and embarrassing himself.
The gentle curve of her jaw, the way her hair shines and falls close to her ample breasts. Her thighs, soft and--
Sir Lancelot slaps his son on the back. Galahad jolts upright with sudden alertness.
Sir Galahad: "I wasn't doing anything!"
Lancelot laughs.
Sir Lancelot: "I know you're not! And that, my boy, is the greatest crime of all..."
Sir Galahad: "It is? What am I supposed to be doing?"
Sir Lancelot: "Go and talk to her."
Sir Galahad: "What!? T-t-talk to who? I don't know what you're talking about. Honestly, father, your head is always in the gutter."
Sir Lancelot: "No need to be ashamed, my boy. She's a fine, fine woman. Very, very, very fine indeed..."
Galahad watches as his father now zones out. Anger bubbles in Galahad and he shakes his father's arm.
Sir Lancelot: "What? What was I--? Oh. So yes! You should go and talk to her. Introduce yourself at least!"
Sir Galahad: "I... don't think I should. She's not really... I don't think I'm her type."
Lancelot shrugs.
Sir Lancelot: "You're probably right."
Galahad feels pretty sad about that and watches his father start to walk towards Ltexi. The older knight then stops and glances back.
Sir Lancelot: "But how will you ever know unless you talk to her first?"
He smirks and Galahad feels a little more confident, but still far too shy to speak with the incredibly confident and dynamic woman that is Ltexi. Lancelot nods to the woman as he passes her;
Sir Lancelot: "Looks like you'll have to join us, milady Ltexi. Never fear. We'll keep you safe!"
Admiral Ltexi: "I'll probably end up having to save you idiots from yourselves, I'm sure. Okay, let's go. Sticking with you lowly humans will have to suit me for now."
She smirks with a playful and yet disdainful look on her face. Merlin just laughs.
Merlin: "You love being with us really. It makes you feel smarter."
Admiral Ltexi: "Are you trying to say I'm not smart?"
Galahad suddenly feels ashamed of his cowardice. Even Merlin, the shy and awkward bald girl from Wales, feels comfortable and easy enough with the alien woman to laugh and joke and chat. Galahad curses the butterflies dancing in his stomach but he forces one foot forward. Then another. A couple of strides later and he's standing in front of her. She looks at him, perturbed by his sudden walk straight over to her and he realises he'd been anything but natural in his approach. He opens his mouth and chokes.
Admiral Ltexi: "You alright there, boy? You haven't been inhaling any of that golden aether, have you? I've seen some of these asses doping up on that stuff, sends them loopy."
He blinks, having no idea what she's talking about.
Sir Galahad: "I-I'm Sir Galahad. It's... it's an honour to serve you, my Lady Ltexi."
He suddenly finds himself on one knee as though he were addressing the king. He feels eyes on him from everyone in the room and his cheeks are instantly flushed red. He dares not look up. He just stares down... down at her beautiful, beautiful legs...
Admiral Ltexi: "Huh. Well, it's nice to see at least one of you human men knows where his place is before a woman."
She turns and he gets an eye full of two perfectly rounded and enticing cheeks--
Then she's gone. He splutters and gasps for breath, having held it since he'd fallen to his knee. He hears laughing and looks up to see Sir Lancelot and Sir Kay.
Sir Kay: "Well done, Galahad! Looks like you're in there, matey!"
Sir Lancelot: "Can't say I'd ever thought of submitting myself to her like that, but it bloody worked! I suppose that's what happens when you have a society run by women. They go power mad!"
Sir Kay: "Isn't that kind of what happens with men in our society?"
Lancelot gasps.
Sir Lancelot: "You've been listening Arthur and his equal treatment stuff too much, you know that?"
Galahad suddenly jumps to his feet, arms in the air and a wild grin on his face.
Sir Galahad: "I DID IT!"
Sir Kay: "Alright, alright. Calm down. Don't let it go to your head, fella. Not like she threw herself all over you, is it?"
But Galahad is too proud of himself to listen as he parades from the room with magic in his heart.
Mordred looks up at the Dream Gate. It's a massive rectangular structure in the middle of a blank and empty field. They had had to trek across the field, following a simple road, coughing and spluttering through the rank aether-fog of the planet. Mordred had gagged on the smell several times, certain that Sir Kay had arrived with another of his 'silent-but-deadlies'.
There isn't much to see in this bleak and barren field save for the construct itself. It's incredibly large, much larger than he'd expected. He had anticipated a door-sized device, or perhaps an opening the size of The Rift underneath Stonehenge. He had been to visit it once in the company of Merlin the Elder, who had wanted to test Mordred's magical potential.
Mordred had, of course, proven himself to have some magical talent but not enough to shout about. Apparently he took after his father more than his mother in that department. He remembers being somewhat disappointed and yet, at the same time, quite relieved. The best he could ever muster was to channel magic into his sword, then a simple short sword, and produce a flaming blade. Since then, however, he had dropped all attempts at magic because it left him too fatigued to actually fight efficiently. Instead he preferred to learn from Sir Tristram. Even Sir Lancelot had plenty of combat techniques for him to learn. Of course he learnt the best lesson from Sir Bedivere - don't get into a fight in the first place and let the stronger men do it.
Sir Bedivere is wiggling his 'improved viewing glasses' as he looks up at the gate.
Sir Bedivere: "A most impressive structure. The material... what is it?"
Fayrie King: "Orichalcum."
The Fayrie King speaks with a kind of reverence as he says the words, as though the humans with him ought to understand what the Hell that's even supposed to mean. The material itself is a shinier version of bronze, as though someone had gone to town with the polishing. Yet as Mordred stares at it it almost seems mesmerising and he's certain it looks like it's moving ever so subtly, like it's brimming with energy.
The frame itself sits atop of a squat platform, which would be as tall as any house in Britannia. The platform is mostly a gentle slope that leads up to the gate on both sides and Mordred imagines you could easily have a procession of soldiers marching through such a gate. Steps would have been difficult for an army to march down. Or perhaps a couple of those space boats could fly through...
As they walk up the slope the open space between the frame starts to shimmer. The closer they got, the more distortion appears.
Sir Bedivere: "How exactly does this gate work, your majesty? Are you certain we, inmagical as we are, can use it?"
The space-zebra grins a big, zebra grin.
Fayrie King: "Quite! This construct doesn't operate through magic! It's not of our design. In fact I have no idea what civilisation first devised of the machine, but The Imperium contains many, many diverse cultures and, so, technologies. Some are so useful that they may be used across the entire empire."
The shimmering wall Mordred now sees seems to only affect the space between the orichalcum frame.
Fayrie King: "What you see is actually a slip that will take us out of reality entirely. The frame itself is certainly created of magical material. Orichalcum is, essentially, aether solidified. But that's just for durability through the ages. The slip itself has nothing to do with magic. Probably nothing to do with science, even. Science is often about rules and workings. Many in The Imperium like to deliberately break those rules on a regular basis. Anyway. This will take us out of reality and into a place where we exist only as astral constructs."
Sir Bedivere: "Astral constructs?"
Fayrie King: "Psychological entities, you might say. Beings purely of the mind. The imagination."
The humans balk.
Prince Mordred: "You mean we literally cease to exist?"
Fayrie King: "Only physically."
The Black Knight: "Bloody aliens! They're all mad!"
Sir Bedivere: "I must say, your majesty, I don't know if this sounds entirely safe."
The fayrie king only chuckles pleasantly, as though children are telling him they're afraid of the dark and want him to leave a candle lit.
Fayrie King: "It's perfectly safe. Everyone has such a strong psychological grasp of themselves that you won't disappear or anything. Your subconscious is a very, very sturdy thing."
King Arthur: "What the Hell is a subconscious?"
Sir Bedivere: "I think it would mean... not awake?"
Fayrie King sighs.
Fayrie King: "Such a naïve people. So much still to learn! Your conscious mind is the part of your mind that you are aware of. The subconscious mind is the much larger part of your mind that is working without your being aware of it. I do hope that you people don't go the same way we did and stop trying to educate yourselves..."
Sir Bedivere: "A most intriguing thought. A part of our minds that we are unaware of. Perhaps that could go some way to explaining why certain actions are taken and we can't fathom why..."
Fayrie King: "Correct. So. Would you like me to go through the Dream Gate first?"
They all nod.
With a broad and understanding smile, the alien king sweeps his cloak as he walks, without pause, through the shimmering air. As his body touches it, it joins the rippling air and ripples outwards towards the orichalcum frame. They stare for a moment. Then the king jumps back out of the slip, his hands on his hips.
Fayrie King: "Come now, you have to actually follow me through!"
Taking a deep breath The Black Knight steps forward.
The Black Knight: "I am a low-born ******* child and a knight in your service, your majesty. I volunteer myself to go through this gate first. My death would spare your life should it not work..."
Fayrie King: "So melodramatic. It's fiiiiiine!"
King Arthur: "My brave knight. Your sacrifice here will never be forgotten. I will tell your father of your courage and honour."
Fayrie King: "This is getting ridiculous. I assure you, you'll be fine. You'll feel like fools when you go through and find that you're not dead."
Sir Bedivere: "If we cease to physically exist, doesn't that mean we are, indeed, dead?"
Fayrie King: "Nooooo! Dead would also mean you can't think of yourself, right?"
The Black Knight plucks up her courage and charges at the door with a cry. She leaps into the rippling air and Mordred watches her figure radiate outwards. A moment of panic grips him and he realises that he actually likes this woman. Had it been Lancelot, no doubt he would have charged through too - only Mordred would have been pleased to see the end of the buffoon. Instead he feels sympathy and regret. And a spark of hope as he stares at the gate.
She jumps back through and he can't help but smile and laugh with relief.
King Arthur: "Good Sir knight! Well done! You've made it back to us unharmed!"
The adrenalin has her supercharged but she does appear unhurt.
The Black Knight: "I can report that it's quite safe, my king. There's a very odd palace within where there are many of these gates. It's... abnormally tall. I felt dizzy just looking up."
Sir Bedivere: "This sounds like something I have to see!"
With the survival of The Black Knight, Sir Bedivere's courage seems to have resurfaced and he marches at the gate.
Sir Bedivere: "Forward we go!"
He hops through the gate.
Fayrie King: "You know, you can just walk through it? All this running and jumping is astounding. It's no wonder your species lives such short lives if you go burning up so much energy all the while!"
He then strides through after Sir Bedivere. The Black Knight bows to the king and marches through. King Arthur looks at Mordred.
King Arthur: "Excited?"
Prince Mordred: "I suppose. Nervous though."
King Arthur: "Me too. But the wonders of the universe are surely worth it, aren't they?"
Mordred suddenly feels some admiration for his father. Usually he thinks his father is simply mad and Hell-bent on doing whatever bizarre whim strikes him. But right now he sees that his father is a man that seeks out the wonders of life, the unique experiences that few could even dream of. To see the universe in ways that no others could, Mordred actually warms up to the idea and, side by side, he walks through the gate with his father.
Space Camelot: Dream Space Pt II
Space Camelot: Dream Space Pt II
Characters: King Arthur | Queen Guinevere | Prince Mordred | Morganna le Fay | Merlin the Younger | Sir Kay | Sir Lancelot | Sir Bedivere | Sir Galahad | Sir Tristram | Sir Caelia | Sir Red Rose Knight | Sir Black Knight | Sir Faerie Knight | Andy | Admiral Ltexi | Gamma Pans | Nerifian | Fayrie King | Monde
The space boat hovers near the roof of the processing plant for Morganna le Fay and Sir Caelia to jump on. They both levitate through the air, gliding like ghosts, into the open hatch where Sir Galahad stands waiting.
Morganna: "Is my brother already aboard Camelot?"
She asks no one specifically but Galahad decides to be the one to tell her.
Sir Galahad: "No, my lady, he has taken another route to Neptune."
Leaving Camelot without Arthur would seem a dangerous thing to do had the prince actually been aboard. Fortunately Mordred is with Arthur and so whatever plot Morganna might have cannot be enacted. While Galahad respects, and even admires Mordred in some ways, he does not like his mother. And he certainly doesn't trust her. She's known to constantly be causing trouble for the knights and yet she's eternally forgiven for whatever mayhem she unleashes. Trolls, goblins and ogres have all been known to come wandering through the lands to steal sheep or burn down houses. There are rarely casualties, so Galahad assumes that she's easily forgiven by most, but Galahad cannot appreciate allowing such a threat to be anywhere near the throne. She definitely shouldn't be allowed within even a mile of the queen - and yet nothing is ever done about it.
He will have to keep an eye on Morganna at all times, he supposes, until Arthur's return.
Merlin: "They went through a gate, or something. I suppose they'll tell us when we arrive. I was thinking we should probably start some preliminary research into that lightning amulet--"
Morganna yawns expressively and Merlin falls for it. Her face drops in disappointment.
Merlin: "Or maybe I'll do it by myself..."
Sir Caelia: "No fear, young Lynne, I'll help you, remember?"
Merlin brightens a little but looks mildly irritated.
Merlin: "It's Merlin now, not Lynne. But thank you Sir Caelia."
Sir Caelia waggles her finger at the bald girl.
Sir Caelia: "If you are Merlin, then I am Lady Caelia. Or maybe Mrs a'Lincoln. What do you think of that one?"
Merlin looks aghast.
Merlin: "Lady Caelia would be better. I couldn't call you anything less."
Sir Caelia: "Well, you know I'm not a noble, right? We don't have such things in Albion."
Merlin: "But you are a knight, now. I must call you something akin to Sir."
The Aes Sidhe Faerie rolls her eyes.
Sir Caelia: "You humans and your oddities. Sometimes I wonder how I ever fell in love with one."
Morganna: "You've never actually told me how you met your husband, by the way. I know you lived on Avalon so that you could meet him when he returned to Britannia but that's about it..."
Sir Caelia smiles at Morganna, this smile being a very genuine smile of gratitude. In that smile Galahad realises that she sees more to Morganna than Galahad can and he wonders if he has been wrong to judge the maligned woman.
Sir Caelia: "And, as always, I thank you for letting me stay there."
Morganna: "Letting you stay wasn't a problem. Letting your husband visit..."
Admiral Ltexi: "And why would that be a problem? Woman's got needs, you know?"
Galahad feels the breath rush from his lungs. He couldn't believe his ears and yet his heart races with excitement. Merlin, like Galahad, turns bright red. Luckily Sir Kay and Sir Lancelot are up front with the pilots, else there'd surely be a lot more discomfort added.
Morganna slips a hand onto her hip.
Morganna: "I don't like the idea of having non-magical men running around my magical island. It isn't safe--"
She pauses and a brief flash of loss sweeps across her face.
Morganna: "Wasn't. Non-magical people, especially men, tend to be clumsy and stupid around magic. Let him go traipsing about and he's likely to blow up or something."
Sir Caelia: "My husband is more world-aware than you realise, Morganna. After all his wife is entirely magical after all."
She smiles sweetly after pointing to her own face. Often Galahad finds it hard to remember that she's older than he is.
Morganna: "I know, I know. I agreed in the end, didn't I? Course, when he showed up with that woman and a baby, I was less than pleased!"
Caelia's face suddenly sours and actually manages to, for the first time, look older. Her eyes burn with anger but her face remains stony and hard. As cold as the ice she's so fond of.
Sir Caelia: "Me neither."
Admiral Ltexi: "I think I can read between the lines on that one!"
She manages to stand on the space boat as steadily as if she is standing on land, even when the ship begins to sway and rattle through the aether clouds towards space. The rest of them are clinging to bars and straps positioned within the ship.
Admiral Ltexi: "If a man of mine was claimed by another woman, that woman would have lost her head."
Morganna looks downcast, probably lamenting that the man she wants has been claimed by another woman and there's nothing she can do about it. Caelia, on the other hand, looks irritated.
Sir Caelia: "It's not as simple as that..."
Admiral Ltexi: "Seriously? Seems simple enough to me. The ***** is trying to edge in on what's yours!"
Caelia actually manages to calm slightly as she sighs.
Sir Caelia: "She was going to be killed. Sacrificed, actually, to a dragon if he didn't marry her."
Sir Galahad: "Marry her!? But he was married to you, wasn't he!?"
He suddenly realises, as the four women glare at him, that he's the only male present and therefore only welcome as an observer and not a participant. He silences meekly.
Sir Caelia: "Yes he was married to me, but Prester John didn't know that."
Sir Galahad: "Prester John!? The Christian king in Asia!? I thought he was a myth!"
He again realises that he's opened his mouth when he oughtn't. Even Merlin looks annoyed with him.
Sir Caelia: "Not a myth. A dragon was terrorising his kingdom and wanted a sacrifice. As they always do. And so it was to be this girl that would be sacrificed, but she begged Tom to marry her and, thus, spare her from sacrifice."
Merlin: "Why would that spare her?"
Morganna: "She wouldn't be a virgin, pillock."
Merlin gasps.
Admiral Ltexi: "You don't have to be married to have sex..."
They all look at Ltexi with shock, save Morganna who seems quite pleased.
Sir Caelia: "So... it all happens. And then home comes Tom with this... this girl! And a baby girl to boot! I--I could have killed them both. I swear I wanted to--! But obviously... what could I say? What should he have done? Let her die? Stupid, stupid world we live in."
Merlin: "Would he have forgiven you if it was the other way around?"
Caelia smiles into the distance as she thinks of her husband.
Sir Caelia: "Absolutely."
Morganna: "You seem pretty damn certain of that."
Sir Caelia: "He may not have the honour of Lancelot, or the faith of Arthur, or the purety of, even, Galahad here... but my husband has a heart bigger than any other human I've ever known. He would forgive me... and he would have cared for that child and maybe even the man I was with, given the same circumstance."
Merlin: "Did you...?"
Morganna: "Of course not! And she shouldn't have had to! We sent their pair of them off to Castle Camelot."
Galahad suddenly jolts his head up.
Sir Galahad: "Wait, are we talking about The Black Knight here? The child, the child is The Black Knight?"
Sir Caelia: "I guess she trusted someone with the name of her father. So far as I know she doesn't like to let people know about that."
Sir Galahad: "Actually I just sort of heard through rumours. Only put the pieces together now that you're talking about it. Wow... I'm sorry that happened to you, Lady Caelia."
Sir Caelia brightens a little.
Sir Caelia: "Finally. Lady Caelia."
Morganna: "But you still haven't told me how you met the fool of a man in the first place!"
Sir Caelia: "That's not a very interesting story. He was wandering through the the ice wastes of Greenland. Said he was looking for some ancient species that lived there before humanity existed. Elves or something. Anyway. I happened to be there, enjoying the snow. I actually used to go there quite often, take a trip through The Rift and journey over to Greenland. And there he was. Dead."
Merlin: "Dead!?"
Sir Caelia: "Well, almost dead. Face-down in the snow. Arse up in the air. Funny thing to find when you're having your morning walk. It's strange but I could just feel how... I don't know. I couldn't feel his spirit. It was so, so warm right there in this cold and desolate place. It honestly felt like magic."
Admiral Ltexi: "Wow. I haven't heard such love-sick, soppy rubbish since my sister met her second husband. I have no idea where you people get your ideas, seriously."
Merlin: "I'm sorry your sister lost her first husband..."
Ltexi stares at Merlin for a moment.
Admiral Ltexi: "He's not dead. The three of them are living hapily together even now. Actually she went and got herself a third."
The humans, even Morganna, now stare at her with sheer horror.
Mordred crouches down as he tries to grab the floor. The sensation of falling upwards is a bizarre thing to experience. The ceiling of the cylindrical room is incredibly high up and, from where he is, appears to be a very blue glass. The walls themselves look to be made of the same material as the gate's frame was. While the gate had appeared massive on Uranus, here it is as small as any normal door on Earth. It even looks like a door with wood and a handle.
Prince Mordred: "Weird..."
Fayrie King: "So we are now in a place we call the Dream Realm. Some call it the Dream World, or Dreamland, or Dreamstate, or whatever else. But I prefer our term."
King Arthur: "Who rules this realm?"
Fayrie King: "Nobody."
King Arthur: "So why do you call it a realm?"
Fayrie King: "Uh... I have no idea. Why are humans called humans?"
King Arthur: "Uh..."
Fayrie King: "So. It's just called that because it is."
Sir Bedivere: "To my understanding the first human was a man named Hugh, so naturally, as men of Hugh, we were hughmen. That became human after sometime."
King Arthur: "Wasn't there first human called Adam?"
Prince Mordred: "Someone told me the first man was called Dave."
Sir Bedivere: "No, no. If the first man was called Adam, or Dave, then we would be adammen or davemen, wouldn't we? No. We are hughmen."
Prince Mordred: "I... suppose there's some logic to that..."
King Arthur: "You are truly the wisest of all men, Sir Bedivere."
Sir Bedivere: "I simply seek truth where others dare not, your majesty."
Fayrie King: "Then perhaps there is some tale about the origins for the naming of this place. But I know them not."
Prince Mordred: "If nobody rules this place, then who is that?"
At the centre of the room is a statue. It is made to the same size and shape of an average human. It is made from the orichalcum and the carving is remarkably detailed, down to the texture of the fabric on the clothes of the man depicted. He appears middle aged, long-haired and sports a serious expression of determination. Held up in his hand is an orb.
Fayrie King: "Oh. That would be Skrai. Founder of The Imperium."
King Arthur: "King Skrai?"
Fayrie King: "Uh, no."
Sir Bedivere: "Emperor Skrai?"
The king shakes his head.
Prince Mordred: "...Caliph Skrai?"
The Black Knight: "A blasphemous title, my prince."
Fayrie King: "He is simply Skrai."
King Arthur: "Kind of like Caesar, right? It was the ruler's name, became the title."
The fayrie gives Arthur a bemused look.
King Arthur: "Right, sorry, Earth history."
Fayrie King: "Anyway. This building is, yes, Imperium owned. But the building merely resides in the Dream Realm where nobody rules. The Imperium simply... occupies space here. Not that there is actual space."
Prince Mordred: "Be careful, your majesty, you might hurt our brains."
Fayrie King: "Sorry, sorry. Each of these doors would take you to elsewhere in The Imperium. Anywhere you'd like to go, you'll be taken there."
King Arthur: "Just like that?"
Fayrie King: "Just like that. We as astral forms, within an astral realm. Outside of reality. Rules of the physical world do not apply to us. We experience gravity and see the world in three-dimensions because our brains tell us that's what we should see. Each floor of this building has another set of doors. In an instant the floor beneath our feet can raise us up to the level we require."
Prince Mordred: "And this level we are on can take us to Neptune?"
Fayrie King: "Each floor is a universe. This is the NeSiverse. So yes."
Prince Mordred: "That's... a lot of universes."
Fayrie King: "Perhaps. Not every gate is in a land owned by The Imperium. The gates are built in locations required for certain functions, such as long-term campaigns. And not all lands owned by The Imperium have gates on them..."
Prince Mordred: "This Imperium sounds awfully complicated."
King Arthur: "Do you think I could conquer it!?"
There's a long silence.
Fayrie King: "And so, this door opposite should take us to the gate we desire. Next stop, Neptune. If you'll follow me?"
He strides across the room, leaving Arthur to pout.
Sir Bedivere: "If we are in the Dream Realm, what do you call this building? The Dream Tower?"
The zebra chuckles with admiration.
Fayrie King: "Now that is a fantastic name for it! Maybe I'll use that in the future! But no, we simply call it the gate hub. But yes. Dream Tower. Very fun."
Sir Bedivere: "Yes, well, I do enjoy naming things. I have named several species of turnip."
Fayrie King: "Oh! I do love a good turnip!"
Sir Bedivere: "Indeed!? Then I shall have to tell you of the specially bred turnips I have made!"
King Arthur: "Nobody wants to hear about turnips, Sir Bedivere."
They reach the door and Mordred glances back at the Founder, Skrai.
King Arthur: "My cheeses, on the other hand, are worth talking about..."
The three of them vanish through the door. They don't open it, they just walk right through it.
The Black Knight: "Are you alright, Mordred?"
He glances up from Skrai to the knight. He rarely took the time to pay much attention to The Black Knight, despite the fact he liked her more than most of the knights. She's tall and strong and, without her black helmet, she has an uncanny face that appears somehow masculine yet not entirely unattractive. She has very brown skin, which he hopes isn't the origin of her knightly title, and dark eyes. Her hair, visible to him for a change, is surprisingly long - he'd always thought she'd have short hair for some reason. Being very thick, she has it parted into three - long and free at the back, but tied and tamed either side of her head with binding. He isn't sure exactly what country she's from but he guesses it cannot be too far from the homeland of Sir Tristram, across the lands of Europe and into the east. Her father, Tom a'Lincoln, is one of the most well-travelled people in all of Britannia, so he could have ventured to lands Mordred didn't even know existed.
Prince Mordred: "What happened to 'my prince', huh?"
The Black Knight: "The king isn't here now."
Prince Mordred: "Oh, I see. All for show, eh? Your majesty this, your majesty that and now I'm just crummy old Mordred?"
The Black Knight: "I considered just calling you scoundrel, but I thought I'd be nice."
Prince Mordred: "Scoundrel again, is it? I didn't even say anything mean to you this time!"
The Black Knight: "Just because you haven't said anything bad, doesn't make you good. Besides. I don't think you mind me calling you Mordred, do you?"
Prince Mordred: "Actually no. No I don't mind."
There's a strange tension in the air that pricks the hairs on the back of Mordred's neck. He looks at her, seeing much more than he ever had before. He'd always appreciated that attitude, and her wicked tongue when she wanted to use it on him. But now she has a face to match.
Her body language, however, is different. Different than he'd seen before. There's something about it that sends a sudden bombardment of signals straight to his brain. Instead of a knight, he sees a woman.
The Black Knight: "I think you kind of like it, don't you?"
He steps towards her.
Prince Mordred: "What if I do?"
The Black Knight: "You're a scoundrel, Prince Mordred."
They both rush the short distance between them and lock lips.
Arthur is disappointed to find that, as the Fayrie King had said, Neptune looks just like Uranus. If he didn't know he is on Neptune, he would never have guessed they'd changed planets. The king leads them up the stairwell while Sir Bedivere talks on and on about his turnips. Arthur had decided to be nice to his knight because he does love his vegetables. But honestly, who wants turnips when they could have cheese?
The fact that the Fayrie King expressed his dislike for cheese and love for turnips had nothing, whatsoever, with Arthur's decision. Of course.
Fayrie King: "And there you can see it!"
They had reached the top of the spiral staircase where they are able to exit the aether processor and stand upon an exterior walkway. Arthur looks down to see the same fog of aether that crawls along the surface as there is on Uranus. And up above are the same old clouds.
However there is definitely something looming just below those clouds. He strains to see it clearly as wisps of cloud keep shrouding it.
Sir Bedivere: "What a most peculiar object. You said this is a spacecraft, right?"
Fayrie King: "Indeed it is."
Sir Bedivere: "But it looks like..."
King Arthur: "A massive snowflake?"