Part 1

That old man has to be mucking with these wings, I thought as I hefted my Sword of Miracles and looked around the surrounding countryside. I could see a well-worn path leading from the nearby bridge, but I couldn't see the city of Salabona. The wing should have dropped me at least close enough to see some sign of civilization.

Slipping my sword into its sheathe, I chuckled. Sword of Miracles, Mystic Armor, Shield of Strength — If anything does hit me, it's not going to hurt for more than three seconds with a full load of items that heal.

For a minute or two, I considered turning around and heading some other direction, just to see if the old man would try to turn me around. Shrugging my shoulders, I started out toward Salabona, whistling Toward the Horizon, the overworld theme of the game.

I stopped whistling after only one run through the song, deciding it really didn't have a good cadence for marching. It was a great song, but I kept having the urge to skip during some of the jaunty trills. As soon as I stopped whistling, I could hear faint sounds arising from somewhere behind me.

Turning around, I saw a wagon emerge from around a small copse of trees. The man sitting atop the wagon looked wary, his eyes darting back and forth at every sprig of vegetation or rock large enough to hide a rabbit.

The wagon approached at a brisk pace, and I decided to get off the road before the corpulent man on the buckboard ran me down. I spit out a curse at the same time as the man on the wagon let out an almost girlish scream of terror, both of us having seen the snakebats flying toward him.

As the man in the wagon fumbled at his feet for something, I took off at a run in his direction. I spit out another curse when the snakebats reached the man first, one of them breathing its numbing breath. The merchant — as the markings I could now see on his wagon identified my fellow traveler as — fell down into his wagon, paralyzed.

I was close, but not close enough. Doing the first thing that popped into my head, I screamed, "Snakes!" I unconsciously imitated Cosby from the Chickenheart story when I yelled. Somehow, I didn't think these creatures were just going to give me a snakey lick. I assumed that Jell-O smeared all over the floor wasn't going to help much either.

Three of the creatures immediately turned toward me. The fourth snakebat, which had latched on to the merchant's ankle after breathing its numbing breath, leapt back into the air upon hearing its brethren hiss.

Bloody hell, there's no way to protect against numbing breath in the game, I realized. I'd have to hit the monsters for my Sword of Miracles to heal me, walk for my armor to work, or raise my shield for that to have any effect. None of which I could do if I were paralyzed.

Just like in D.Q. three's world, however, I had magic in this world. I could almost hear the words of one spell screaming at me. I started the chant, keeping a close eye on the winged snakes flapping rapidly toward me with their fangs bared.

As soon as the snakebats were close, I unleashed my tornado spell. I let out a little whoop of delight when all four of the monsters whipped violently in circles within the whirling winds of the magic. One of them managed to pull free of the vortex, hurtling directly toward me in uncontrolled flight. I put up my shield and heard a satisfying thump as the creature slammed into the metal barrier.

I danced back, feeling the creature's wings beating against my legs as it tried to right itself. Stomping down on the flailing monster, I pinned it to the ground and stabbed my sword into the thing's head.

My spell ended, and the disoriented snakebats streaked upward to regain their sense of balance away from the threat of me on the ground. One of the four misjudged the proper direction, and hurtled into the ground with a crunch. From the awkward angle of the monster's right wing, I assumed it was broken. Hurrying over, I dispatched it with a chop of my sword. Two down — two to go, I thought.

I was wrong, though. It was Two down — two going, going, gone. The other two snakebats, deciding I wasn't worth the trouble, flew away. Relieved that they'd left without turning their numbing breath on me, I jogged over toward the merchant's wagon to check on him.

The corpulent man stirred a little as I approached, sitting up with another girlish yelp when he felt the bite on his ankle. When he turned in my direction, he squealed and passed out again.

Rolling my eyes, I walked up and shook him. Looking at the man's feet, I could see a battered sword and a small bag. A healing herb peeking out of the partially open bag revealed the likely contents, so I picked it up. Opening the bag confirmed my initial suspicion, and I rubbed one of the healing herbs over the man's bite wound. Just for good measure, I gave it a treatment of antidote herb and full-moon herb as well, since there were plenty of both in the bag.

With his wound fully healed, the merchant regained consciousness again. I managed to keep him from fainting immediately upon seeing me this time. "Are you alright there, neighbor?" I asked.

"W-what happened to the snakebats?" He asked in response.

"They didn't like their meal seasoned with steel, I guess." I patted my sword in its sheathe and pointed toward the two downed creatures.

The merchant let out a great sigh of relief. "I am in your debt. My name is Mercurio — item merchant extraordinaire."

Chuckling, I responded, "Thakkor. I don't have a title yet."

"It is a little pompous, isn't it?"

"Maybe a bit," I replied with a laugh.

"How can I repay you for coming to my aid?"

"A ride into Salabona would work. I'm sure you'd feel a little better with some company, if you're headed that way?"

"Splendid! I will surely find some other way to repay your kindness and bravery, however. You may rest assured of that."

"Know where to get good beer when we get there?"

"Oh, most certainly. Fine spirits, fine company, and visions of beauty," Mercurio replied, nudging me with his elbow and winking.

"Bunny club, huh?"

"The finest in the land," Mercurio answered, moving over to make room for me in the wagon.

I climbed up into the wagon and said, "Head 'em up and move 'em out then, pardner."

With a laugh and a snap of the reins, Mercurio set the wagon in motion.

I could see the city in the ruddy light of the sinking sun when we rounded a bend and Mercurio stiffened in the seat next to me.

"What's the matter, Mercurio?"

"The birds — they are silent."

"The noise of us approaching? A wagon isn't exactly quiet."

Shaking his head, Mercurio responded, "No, the birds do no react so to such a common sight."

Drawing my sword and sitting it across my knees, I said, "No need to worry." Tipping up his sword with my foot, I grabbed the leather-wrapped hilt and sat it on the seat next to us as well. "Just stay with the wagon. Can you use that at all?"

"Somewhat," Mercurio replied, his tone of voice sheepish.

"Just stay in the wagon, no matter what. That will make it harder for anything to get to you. Just swing that sword at anything that gets close."

With an exaggerated nod, Mercurio returned to his nervous scan of the surrounding countryside. A moment later, he hissed, "Beastmaster."

Following the direction of Mercurio's frightened gaze, I saw the hooded man as well. A purple-skinned curer hovered at his shoulder, and the beastmaster uncurled his whip as I watched. "Looks like negotiation is out of the question," I muttered. "Slow the wagon down and get ready," I whispered to the trembling merchant next to me.

The beastmaster charged in, quickly covering the ground between us and angling his path to intersect us. I'd already guessed that there was no way we could outrun him in the slow wagon, and that's why I'd told Mercurio to slow down. As soon as we reached an acceptably slow speed, I hopped out of the wagon and matched the beastmaster's charge.

The beastmaster hesitated as I ran toward him with my sword at the ready. I could see Mercurio bringing the wagon to a halt in my peripheral vision. The beastmaster skidded to a stop, taking up a defensive position.

Slowing down and bringing my weapon up, I shouted across to our would-be attacker. "You look like you might have some brains under that hood. Why don't you just take your little purple gas-bag there and go right back where you came from. Otherwise, I'm going to have to chop you up into tiny bits and pieces like a Ginsu. Act now — operators are standing by."

I swear I could see the look of utter confusion on the beastmaster's face even through his concealing hood.

The moment of hesitation didn't last long, however, and the beastmaster drew back his arm in preparation to sling his barbed whip at me. I moved in, knowing that all I had to do was get closer than the effective range of his whip to render the weapon useless. I had to drop my shield low when he struck. I managed to get the shield in line to stop the strike, aimed at my legs. By the time he withdrew the whip, I was right on top of him.

The beastmaster cracked his whip in a short flip, the metal-laced tip barely deflecting off the shoulder plate of my armor to miss my face. Helmet next time, I thought as I smashed my shield into the beastmaster's face. As my opponent fell back, stunned, I thought, Wonder if he's thinking the same thing?

My opponent flailed with his whip, the strike having little strength or speed behind it. Unfortunately for me, it had just enough to wrap around one leg. The barbs on the whip were just long enough to penetrate the chain between the plates on my knee, digging in painfully. The beastmaster jerked, but the whip didn't have enough purchase to fully grip, allowing me to maintain my feet. It did dig another point into the back of my knee, which pissed me off.

Slashing down with my sword, I cut through the whip as though it was a length of twine. The limp coils dropped from my leg as the beastmaster stared at the useless handle in his hand.

"Indiana Jones you ain't, fuckwit," I said with a smile.

The beastmaster made a gurgling sound as he backed away, and the curer floated toward me with its tentacles waving in the air and a watery battle cry bubbling from its lips.

I smacked it with the flat of my blade and sent it hurtling a dozen or more feet away from the battle.

The beastmaster then snarled and charged me, holding the handle of his whip like a dagger. I swung my sword at the arm, thinking to eliminate the pitiful excuse for a weapon, which would hopefully convince the beastmaster to flee. Killing monsters like the snakebats was one thing, killing another person wasn't exactly something I felt comfortable doing. Now that he was essentially unarmed, I wasn't really fighting for my life any more.

My enemy surprised me by dodging to the side, and I brought my swing up short, reversing the momentum as quickly as possible. The beastmaster sprang forward, and I realized that his weapon wasn't as useless as it initially appeared. A short blade sprang from the handle of the whip.

I put my shield in line as my sword crossed back in front of me. The stroke was far from clean, but managed to numb the beastmaster's hand. My enemy's weapon fell from his nerveless grasp, even as my sword continued to cut through his hood where it attached to his clothing.

"The hell?" I muttered as the torn cloth revealed a monstrous face with an immense tooth filled mouth. No more playing around with this damn thing, I quickly decided and stabbed downward with my sword. I felt healing energy flow through me as the Sword of Miracles worked its rejuvenating magic. The monster twitched and struggled for a few seconds, and then fell still.

Seeing something out of the corner of my eye, I whirled on the curer. The creature's tentacles drooped and it sank closer to the ground, which looked to me like a submissive posture. I kept my sword trained on it anyway.

"No kill. You strong," the creature said in a gurgling voice.

I've got the hero's ability to recruit monsters, I realized. "You want to come along with me, do you?" There's a little insurance against the numbing monsters, I thought.

"Come you," the curer replied. The creature hovered up a little higher, but kept its tentacles hanging in submission.

"Amazing," I heard Mercurio mutter from behind me. I turned and he said, "You have the touch of a tamer. That is a rare ability indeed."

I turned back to the curer and said, "You can come with me. Do you have a name?"

"Name?" the curer asked, cocking its entire body sideways and sounding confused.

Pointing at my chest, I said, "Thakkor." Well, it's the wrong game and he's the wrong species, but screw it. Pointing at the curer, I said, "Healie."

Raising a tentacle to point at its head in a strangely human gesture, the curer repeated, "He-Lee."

"You like it?"

"He-Lee," the creature said again, an obvious sound of satisfaction in its watery voice.

Turning back to Mercurio, I asked, "Do you have any problem with him coming along? I can walk if you'll be uncomfortable."

"I'll manage," the merchant replied.

"Let's go then, Healie."

Waving his tentacles excitedly, Healie hovered over to follow me to the wagon. A few seconds later, we set off again. Riding in the wagon, Toward the Horizon didn't feel anywhere near as odd, so I whistled away as we traveled. After only one run-through, Mercurio joined in. An oddly gurgling approximation of a hum from Healie slowly built, remarkably following the tune with some skill.

Our heads bobbing in tune with the song — his entire body in Healie's case — and we moved at a steady pace toward the city.

Healie started looking nervous as we approached Salabona, so we hid him in the wagon before we reached the city. He happily munched on a meal of leaves seasoned with healing herbs and looked content to await our return.

It only took me a moment to discern the location of the bunny club on the outskirts of town. In the decreasing light of dusk, the abundant torches cast their flickering light over a stream of men moving toward the building and two scantily clad bunnies in the front.

A woman walking down the street with a matronly escort caught my eye. Her platinum blonde hair stood out like a beacon, highlighted in red from the display of the setting sun. She wore a shy, sad smile on her beautiful face. Though wearing a reserved gown, I could still tell she had a petite, attractive figure lurking beneath the dress. "Stop the presses — who's that?" I said in my best Nicholson Joker.

"Presses?" Mercurio asked me with obvious confusion in his voice.

"Local phrase," I chuckled. "I was just wondering who that blonde is."

"Only the most beautiful and rich woman in the city, Flora."

"She's certainly beautiful." And off-limits if I have any damn sense at all. I'm tired of getting in trouble with women. Someone directly connected to the plot of the game is sure to mean trouble.

"Her father sponsors a challenge to win her hand. Perhaps you wish to try?"

That reminded me of where I'd last saved the game, before my final run to retrieve the Water Ring. Assuming the hero would be focused on his quest and wouldn't have time for dalliance, I said, "I think I'll stick with something simpler." A sidelong glance at the bunny club easily indicated what I was talking about.

Laughing, Mercurio replied, "Indeed. Shall we go drink too much and torture ourselves with visions of loveliness?"

Clapping my traveling companion on the shoulder, I laughed with him as we walked up to the club. As I stepped inside, something hit me. I'd always been a bit of a loner and anti-social. Even when I'd first started this strange adventure, having too many people around me had set my nerves on edge. Entering the club now, I was looking forward to the lively atmosphere of the place.