(Link to Warlords 1: http://z7.invisionfree.com/WOCML/index.php?showtopic=2169)

So, back around December I started writing a sequel to my old story, Warlords of the Shack. I ditched the play style and went with prose, for whatever reason. I had wanted to finish the whole story before I posted so there wouldn't be long droughts between chapters, but I only finished an introduction and 4 chapters before my life got pretty crazy and I had to stop. I haven't started writing again since then, but with the end of classes and the start of summer, I'm back in a writing mood. I hope that by posting chapters it will put some pressure on me to write again. This probably isn't the best time to start posting yet another story in the shack, what with Lunar's spam epic and Saria's own play, but...meh, why not. So, without further adieu, I give you...

Warlords of the Shack II: The Crap Strikes Back

Special Thanks to Xhunter for his account of the Crap Shack Civil War

Introduction

It has been many years since the Crap Shack was freed from the tyrannical reign of the notorious King of Spam, Mormodon Lyttlesane LXXXVII, known before and after his rule simply as ML87. Having learned the error of his ways after the Second Spam War, also known as the War for Shack Independence, ML graciously abdicated his crown, stepped down from his throne and assisted in rebuilding the Shack, helping to restore the kingdom to its former glory. Upon seeing that his work in the Crap Shack was finished, the former sovereign went into self-imposed exile, hoping to atone for past actions by traveling to a far-off land to spread good Spam to those in need. Prior to leaving upon his long journey, he promised that he would return to his homeland as soon as his mission was complete and asked the people of the Shack, crappies and Spam Lords alike, to watch over the kingdom, to help it prosper in his absence. And then he was gone, the last anyone saw of him his long cloak flapping in the wind as he walked steadily toward the setting sun, head held high with an occasional twitch.

The loss of such a commanding figure left a power vacuum that could not be filled by a single person. Many had taken part in the War for Shack Independence, all equally capable of ruling the shack, but none quite able to fill the shoes of the former ruler. In order to prevent further bloodshed after such a bloody war, a coalition was formed, composed of the great minds of the past war, the First Spam Council. The council was composed of four valiant men from the war: the clever warrior known only as the Silent Swordsman; the brilliant spamist and Supreme Overlord of Feces, Don Mateo el Loco; the renowned Spam Knight and Cheese Cumquat known only by the celestial name of Lunar; and the newest of the Spam Knights, the ever optimistic Dewbert IV. Though there had been many more players in the Second Spam War, many had passed on the chance to govern the Shack, or were simply no longer present in the kingdom. The fabled Lady of the Stars and Sky had politely declined membership in the Council, instead preferring a quiet life studying the weather patterns of the Shack. While the gracious lady removed herself from the public eye, she still was always available to give her sage advice. The omniscient Mods watched over the Shack from above, giving hope to the people and helping to prevent the outbreak of another war, but allowing the citizenry to govern itself. Other players, however, had vanished completely.

Teh Silver Fisted Falsh Queen of All Spam and Dark Overlord of Crap had mysteriously faded back into the shadows from whence they came after bringing an end to the last war and freeing the people of the Shack from oppression. They left in the night on short notice, hoping they would not be missed, but the people mourned their passing. Other warriors from the last war also left the stage of the Shack, though for different reasons. The Insurrectionist, the Time Warrior, was forced into exile: unable to adjust to the peaceful conditions of a postwar Shack, he found himself in a state of continuous strife against the Council, and even against the Mods themselves. It was with heavy hearts that Time Warrior was permanently banished from the Shack by the Mods, but in such delicate times, no other choice was available.

After the initial rebuilding of the Shack, as peace was found once again throughout the land, as good Spam flowed forth as freely as the babble from a dewback’s mouth, the people finally settled back into their normal lives. Feeling that the council was no longer needed, and the majority of its members wearied by the constant duties of governing a kingdom, the Spam Council was dissolved, its members going their separate ways. Don Mateo el Loco retired to his castillo in the mountains, disappearing from public life. Lunar traveled the Shack, tirelessly working to prevent any further fighting in the war-ravaged countryside. The knight known as Sir Dew also retired to the countryside, occasionally traveling to Crapopolis, the Crap Shack’s capital city, to visit old friends and even contribute to the Shack’s supply of Spam. The Silent Swordsman, being the only one left on the Council to govern the Shack, was elevated to the status of a Mod by the original pantheon. Living humbly in Crapopolis, the new local Mod watched carefully over the people of the Shack, providing glorious Spam still spoken of to this day.

The people of the Shack themselves, the crappies, perhaps did more than any other force to help in the land’s recovery after the War for Shack Independence. Their diligence and hard work allowed Spam to flow as it did, allowed for a new Golden Age of Spam. Ironically, the war that had threatened to tear the Shack apart had ushered in one of the most prosperous times for the kingdom. However, all good things must come to an end, and the Second Golden Age of Spam was brought to an abrupt halt by storm clouds on the horizon. The times of peace and prosperity and the decentralization of power with the dissolution of the Council left the small kingdom ripe for attack by insidious forces. A new era was on the horizon, an era of pain and chaos, an era of new villains and new heroes: an era of war.

From the shadows emerged a new threat, a man known only as Mika, his true name birthed from an archaic language now lost to us. This man had carefully studied the Crap Shack’s long and majestic history of contradictions, a history of honor and debasement, light and darkness, order and chaos, apple and taco. Using his vast knowledge and talent for trickery, he manipulated the people of the Shack into warring against each other, pitting the followers of the God Taco versus the followers of the God Apple in the Crap Shack Civil War. By the time the smoke had cleared, Mika had a steel grip on the Shack. Blaspheming the Mods and all they stood for, Mika reached for the very God Apple itself.

At first it appeared that the Shack was doomed: the Mods were unable to defend against Mika’s attack, the fiend using the God Taco as his shield. Furthermore, a number of the old heroes from the last war were nowhere to be found. Don Mateo el Loco remained locked inside his castillo and Sir Dew had not yet returned from a quest for knowledge undertaken in the frozen Northlands. Meanwhile, the Silent Swordsman was being overrun in the Shack’s capital city and the famed Cheese Cumquat could do nothing but guide what little resistance was being given against Mika from behind the scenes. Yet, from the chaos steadily engulfing the Shack, four young warriors rose from obscurity to fight against the forces of Mika: the brave paladin, the Hunter, Ecks; the summoner mage known to most by her initials, ZM; the courageous bard and self-proclaimed catgirl, Baka; and the feline warrior taking the name of that ringed celestial orb, Saturn. Together, along with other brave souls, they banded together to push the Shack away from the brink of destruction, fighting against many obstacles, including losing Ecks to Mika’s dark sway for a time. In the end, the young summoner mage brought her love back to the light, and it was the paladin himself who struck the final blow against Mika.

Perhaps the greatest surprise of the war was the return of none other than Teh Silver Fisted Falsh Queen of All Spam herself, Saria. As the Shack spiraled into pandemonium, the Queen returned to her homeland to guide her people through the darkness. At the end of the Crap Shack Civil War, later known as the Homecoming War to commemorate the return of the Queen, Queen Saria was given the crown of the Crap Shack, which she proudly accepted, swearing an oath to protect it at all costs and to never abandon her country again. As her first act as Queen, she knighted the four warriors who had saved the Crap Shack from oblivion, giving each titles to be remembered for centuries. Sir Ecks, Paladin of Justice, took up residence in the country with Summoner Knight ZM, living an idyllic though clichéd life for a time in the hills. Sir Baka the Bard went back to work under Sir Lunar the Cheese Cumquat, who had been Baka’s master before the war began. Cat Warrior Saturn returned to his peaceful life in Crapopolis, working to help rebuild the city and return Spam to its prewar levels. The Queen gave the title of Strawberry Kiwi to the Silent Swordsman for his bravery, though she was known throughout her reign to affectionately call him Snake Sandwiches. The Queen’s most trusted advisor, who had been living in anonymity as a crazy old man among the crappies, dutifully returned to his Queen’s side upon her return, receiving the title of Count Sonic of Linux, Math Zombie and Grammar Robot. Likewise, Sir Lunar returned to his Queen, once again pledging his unwavering allegiance to her. Upon his return from the Northlands, Sir Dew was shocked to learn of the near destruction of his home, but was overjoyed to see the return of the Queen, and bowing before her swore his allegiance as well.

As the Crap Shack found peace once more and was rebuilt by the Queen, its people, and its heroes, trouble once again began to brew. The Queen struggled to promote good Spam in the Shack, watching with dread as Spam levels fell to terribly low levels. Upon receiving little help from her advisors to solve the problem, she sent out her most trusted noble, Count Sonic, to find the exiled former king of the Crap Shack, ML. Meanwhile, trouble for the Queen brewed behind the scenes, in the dark alleys and shadows of Crapopolis. Unbeknownst to Queen Saria, a word she never expected to be spoken in her kingdom was being whispered: revolution.

Very epic novel like Nealan. You're awesome. ^_^

Oh yeah that totally owned

lemme guess i'm behind the revolution right v;

DOOD AWESOME. This is honestly the summer of Spam Epics.

Part I

Chapter 1

Even in the light of the full moon, the alley was shrouded in near-complete darkness. The large rats rooting through the refuse piled about the street looked up suddenly as the sound of muffled footsteps on the stone paving reached their ears, their beady eyes quickly scanning the darkness before the rodents scampered off into the sewers below Crapopolis. A cloaked figure walked purposefully toward the center of alley, furtively glancing over his shoulder to ensure he wasn’t followed. The figure stopped suddenly as footsteps sounded from the other end of the alleyway. He pressed himself up against one of the rough stone walls of the tall residences bordering the passage, intently watching the opening at the other side. Another figure quickly ran past in the darkness, and the man against the wall relaxed, allowing himself a sigh of relief.

“Nice of you to finally join me.”

The man jumped in surprise at the quiet voice in the darkness, barely suppressing a yelp. He spun around, unsheathing a dagger beneath his cloak. Upon seeing the face of the other man in the dark, he let escape a sigh of relief. “Oh, thank goodness. Hello, master.”

“Please, there’s no longer any need to call me master,” the second man said, raising his hand to silence the first.

“But…”

“There is something more important I must speak to you about.” The second cloaked figure motioned to the first to sheath his dagger and follow quietly. The first obeyed silently, bowing his head as he followed after. The second man moved swiftly toward the grating covering a manhole to the sewers below the city, deftly removing the cover with a crowbar hidden beneath his cloak. He skillfully lowered himself into the hole, the first man following obediently and replacing the cover back over the hole it guarded, plunging both men into absolute darkness. A second later, a flickering light filled the sewer passage, the second man lighting a torch hidden in his robes. Motioning once more for the first of the men to follow, he quickly strode off down the stinking passage. After a few minutes the man abruptly stopped, momentarily feeling the wall. Seconds later, a small crack appeared, and the man pushed. A doorway large enough for a man to walk through materialized, and both men stepped through. As the first man stood silently, his master lit the torches in their wall brackets, filling the room with soft, flickering light.

“And now,” the man said, closing the hidden doorway behind him, “we may speak.” He contemplated sitting down in the armchair in front of him, but instead decided to pace about the small, circular room. “As you no doubt have realized, the Crap Shack is in a state of deterioration. It has been months since the end of the Civil War, since Mika was finally defeated. Even now, Spam levels have barely risen since those dark days. The Queen has done her best to promote good Spam and the wellbeing of our country, but…I daresay it is not enough. This kingdom is in a state of stagnation, and not a soul has done anything about it.” He finally allowed himself to sit, resting his elbows on his knees and resting his forehead on his palms.

The other man suddenly spoke: “…Are you trying to suggest something?”

The master sighed at the words. “All I mean to suggest is that something needs to be done before the Shack finds itself in a state that demeans its very existence, which gives us no reason for being. Something must be done, even if it’s something a bit…” he paused, searching for the right word. “…drastic.”

The younger man mulled over his master’s words. “Drastic? Do you speak of…rebellion, master?”

“…If that is what must be done to restore the Shack’s glory. If that is what must be done to bring back meaning to this place, then so be it. And again, do not call me master.”

“But…”

“That is another reason why I brought you here, to give you your freedom.”

The young man stared, mouth agape. “But…why? Have I not been a good servant, a good student?”

The other man leaned forward in his chair, speaking with passion in his voice. “You have been nothing but loyal and have never once disappointed me, and that is precisely why I now give you your freedom. Someone must bring Spam back to the Shack; someone must lead this rebellion, nay, revolution. This revolution needs someone that the people can look to, someone who can gain their support. This revolution needs a hero, and that is what I believe you are.”

“Mas–…I…I don’t know what to say, sir…”

“There’s nothing for you to say. The choice is ultimately yours. The only question now is if you’re willing to deal with the consequences of this. Well, that, and who you’re going to get to help you start this.”

The newly freed man sat in silence for a moment, thinking intently. “I know who I can go to.”

The old master smiled. “I thought as much. I trust in your abilities. I had feared that perhaps you would disagree, that you might not be up to the challenge, but I’m pleased to see that my fears were unfounded.” He rose from his chair as his former servant and apprentice did the same. The former master placed his hands on the shoulders of his old student. “And now, you must go. There is no time to lose. You’ll find all you need to begin your quest either in this room or the adjoining storeroom: weapons, food, and any other provisions you can think of. I have other things I must attend to, otherwise…well, for right now everything rests on your shoulders. Now go, and may the Spam be with you.”

The former student smiled. “Yes, sir. I’ll do you proud.” He turned away and began digging through the piles of supplies strewn about the floor.

Backing quietly through the doorway into the dark corridor behind him, the man took one last look at his apprentice. “The Mods help me, I hope I’m doing the right thing.” He closed the door once more, enshrouding himself in darkness.

aaaaaaa wtf just happened

I'd like to know that, too. This is shaping up to be entertaining. :)

Dew, could you post a link to the first Warlords of the Shack for ease of reference? I think I vaguely remember it, but I'd like to reread it again.

Sure, I'll edit the first post

Edit: There, top of the first post.

Oh, I read this on Friday and forgot to tell you KLHDFKAJLFGAJGHDJHAGDJHAGKLJDG LJAKJ FLGAJK EPIC WIN DEW zomg;

^_^

Chapter 2

“Your Falshiness!”

A knight in green armor strode briskly down the sparkling corridors of the Palace of Absurdity, the home of the Queen and her Royal Spam Knights. The Knight tightly held a crinkled roll of worn paper in his fist. He emerged into the Grand Throne Room, the majestic throne itself empty. The knight stopped in his tracks, unable to prevent an exasperated sigh from escaping. His eyes quickly scanned the room, looking for the Queen who refused to remain sitting in one spot for too long. He found her staring out one of the many large, open windows lining either side of the room, the bright reddish light of the setting sun filling the room with a crimson glow. He called out to the Queen once more, and she finally acknowledged his presence.

“Du! Where have you been? What’s all the fuss about?”

The knight strode over to his mistress. “Milady, Count Sonic has managed to send word from his journey.” He handed over the piece of paper in his hand.

“Saniki? Oh, Du! When did it arrive?”

“Just now, Your Falshiness. I brought it to you with all haste. If I may, I must take my leave to check on the watch for this evening.” Sir Dewbert bowed to his Queen, as if to leave.

The Queen quickly turned to him, a pleading look in her eyes. “Du, no! Please, it’s so boring here without Saniki, and Runa never seems to be around anymore. Just a few more minutes, please? Then I promise you can go.”

“There’s a great deal to do, Your Falshiness… ”

“Please? Just two seconds!”

The knight sighed. “Yes, Your Falshiness.”

The Queen beamed. “Did you read the letter from Saniki yet?”

“I thought it best to bring it straight to you, Your Falshiness.”

The Queen quickly read the note, her eyes devouring each word. The smile on her face slowly regressed into the slightest of frowns. When she looked back up, her countenance was one of consternation. “So he still hasn’t found Emee…” she frowned.

The knight sighed. “I suppose it is rather too soon for him to have found anything…but does he mention anything else?” he asked hopefully.

“Just that he’s enjoying telling stories to the locals as he passes through their villages, something about open source or evil software companies or something. Same old Saniki.”

“I would presume so, yes…”

The Queen sighed. “Du…do you think I’m a good Queen?”

The knight was momentarily taken aback. “Of course! You’re the best thing the Shack has had in a long time. Remember, I served under ML during his reign, and though I was away for the Civil War, I’ve heard the horror stories. I’ve also heard about how you gave the people hope when you returned. You are their Queen, and you’ve done everything you can for them.”

“But what if it’s not enough? Spam still hasn’t returned, not in the quantities necessary for this kingdom to flourish as it once did.”

“How is that your fault? You’ve done all you can to encourage the people. You’ve even set examples for them by posting your glorious Spam throughout Shenanigan Square. If the people aren’t up to the challenge of making their own, what fault is that of yours?”

“I suppose…” her eyes dropped to the floor.

“Why are you even asking about this, if I may be so bold?”

“Well…I’ve heard things. I overhear the soldiers talking about what they hear while on duty. They say the people are…unsatisfied.”

“People? What people? Surely not the entire populace.”

“Of course not everyone…but still…it’s unsettling.”

The knight sighed, frustrated with the mumblings of the crappies. “My Queen, these people owe their lives to you. I’ll say again that you’ve done everything you can for now. Councilor Lunar is doing his best to find a solution to the problem as we speak, and you can count on him to do his job.”

“I suppose…Runa has been loyal to me for so long. I know he can solve any problem, no matter how big.”

“That’s right. Now, please stop worrying? And also, one of these days someone important is going to come into this throne room to see you, and all they’ll see is you wandering about absentmindedly, so please try to stay in your throne a bit more often, will you?”

The Queen wrinkled her brow in disapproval. “How am I supposed to run a country sitting in that stupid thing? Besides, they always announce when someone important is coming, so there’s plenty of time for me to be where I need to be. You worry too much, Du.”

The knight sighed, his general response to things those days. “Yes, Your Falshiness.” He turned to leave.

“Du!” The Queen’s voice echoed throughout the empty chamber. The knight turned. “Thank you,” she called.

The knight let a smile pass on his lips and bowed deeply. “Yes, Your Falshiness.”

You must be related to the Nameless God of Storytelling. This is fun to read =D! zomg;

EPIC NEALAN. zomg;

Chapter 3

The harsh winds whipped the dark green cloak around the young man as he trekked steadily upward toward the hillside cabin. Pushing against the tempest with all his might, his body soaked to the bone by the torrential downpour, the man finally reached the small lodge. Thunder boomed overhead as he pounded upon the sturdy wooden door, his voice trying to win a futile battle of volume against the earsplitting crashes above. “Come on! Open the door!”

The door slowly creaked open, a pair of wary eyes peering through the small crack. The eyes widened when they recognized the man outside. “Baka! Hurry, come in!” The door was flung open, and the man called Baka rushed inside. The cabin’s owner flung the door shut behind Baka, guiding the waterlogged man toward a seat by the roaring fireplace. “Baka, what of all things would bring you out here in this weather?”

Baka coughed, searching for his voice. “Only the gravest of events, friend Ecks.” He looked up to meet the concerned gaze of his comrade. “Rough times are upon us.”

Ecks nodded, wary. “Your words are true enough, my friend. You appear to be very troubled.”

Baka nodded, his face impassive. “Before that, I must ask, is Emmy here?”

Ecks shook his head. “No, she’s been away for the past week. She had business in one of the outer hamlets of the Shack, clearing out some bandits.”

Baka indulged in a smile. “Still living as mercs, eh?”

“In times like these, there aren’t many other options available to us, are there?” Ecks smiled back. “Now, while you dry off, how about something hot to drink?” Baka nodded in appreciation as Ecks wandered off to prepare drinks. Ecks spoke again, the clinking of glassware, hammering of rain, and roar of the fire in the background. “So, Baka, what brings you here? Not that I don’t mind your company, but to trek up here in this kind of weather…it begs the question, is something going on?”

Baka frowned. “As you know, the Crap Shack has been in decline these last few months. The Queen has made attempts to remedy the situation, but to no avail.”

Ecks nodded vigorously. “Sure I’ve noticed. We had more Spam here even when ML and Mika were in power. But what can be done about it?”

Baka was quiet for a moment. “We could rebel,” he whispered.

Glass shattered on the cabin floor. For a time, the only sounds were those of the rain and the fire, along with the occasional crack of thunder. Baka turned to Ecks to find his mouth agape and eyes wide. “Rebellion? Baka, we’ve pledged ourselves to the Queen. To rebel now…that’s the worst kind of treason.”

“You don’t understand, my friend,” Baka sighed. “Big things are happening in the capital. I can’t expect you to understand right away, living out here isolated in the country. People are suffering, Ecks, and the Queen is not capable of helping them. Already, many are crying for rebellion.”

Ecks stared blankly at the flames in the hearth, his brow wrinkled in thought. “I’ve seen it out here even in the country. There are some who call for rebellion, who call for the Queen to be deposed. Most if it is behind closed doors, or else Her Falshiness would no doubt have done something about it by now.”

Baka looked up at Ecks. “If you – you who have pledged yourself to the Queen – haven’t done anything to alert Saria to the problem, then surely you must have similar thoughts to my own….”

Ecks smirked. “During my time living in the Shack, I’ve seen light and darkness, order and chaos. Each has left its own mark on me. These days, I see with a clarity never thought possible. To tell the truth…I’ve been thinking about the possibility of rebellion even before you showed up.”

“…Have you talked to Emmy about this?”

Ecks laughed mirthlessly, shaking his head. “Ha, even I don’t have the guts to bring that up.”

“Well…time is running out, old friend. If things come to a head, our old party will have to choose a side once more. Only this time, I think we may have to side against the Queen.”

“For the good of the Shack,” Ecks said, his voice solemn. A thought popped into his head. “Have you told Saturn yet?”

“I’ve had some trouble finding him. You know how he likes to wander. I have a lead on where he is, though. It shouldn’t take long for me to find him.” Baka rose from his chair, his cloak and tunic still damp. “In any case, there’s a great deal more for me to do. I just wanted to make sure you knew of the situation, and that you could be depended on. Please, let Emmy know of the situation. We’ll need her just as much as anyone else if worst comes to worst.”

Ecks nodded, his face sad. “I’ll let her know and do my best to convince her. Are you sure you won’t stay a bit longer, at least until the storm dies down?”

“Sorry, if I’m going to catch up to Saturn I have to be quick. Oh, I nearly forgot.” Baka stopped, searching under his tunic for something. He pulled out a wet piece of parchment. “Should Emmy decide to join the rebellion, follow these instructions as to where and when to meet me. When we rendezvous, we’ll go over the terms for the Queen’s abdication. And if she refuses those terms…” Baka patted the dagger at his side. “Well, keep your blade sharp. Farewell for now, old friend.”

“May the Spam be with you, Baka.” Ecks shut the door behind his ally, deep in thought. A moment later, he walked slowly to his bed in the corner of the cabin, reaching underneath and pulling out a large chest. With a swift kick of his boot, the lid swung open. Ecks bent down, pulling out his prized double-bladed axe. Raising it aloft, he whispered to himself, “Looks like it’s time for the Paladin to ride again….”

Chapter 4

A lone figure stood in the Queen’s private garden, armor glinting in the moonlight. Sir Dew stretched, looking up into the full moon hanging in the sky above him. “What a mess…” he whispered to himself. He stifled a yawn and sighed. “I leave for a few months and the Shack is nearly destroyed by a dark being. I let my guard down again and suddenly rebellion is the order of the day.” He frowned, remembering the reports from his informants in the city.

A good deal had transpired since Dew last talked to the Queen. The royal spies in the city told him that a number of citizens were speaking intensely of their dissatisfaction with the state of the Shack, some even going so far as to bring up the idea of rebellion. Even from out in the countryside came word of civil unrest. Surely those ungrateful “noblemen” scattered throughout the Shack’s dominion would jump at any opportunity to dethrone the Queen. The Spam Knight clenched his fists; he would not let it come to that.

He sighed again. What was he going to do, sic the Royal Guard on anyone who dared say anything negative about the Queen? Her Falshiness would certainly condone no such thing, but if something wasn’t done soon, they would potentially have a rebellious mob of angry Crappies on their hands. If it came to that, the Spam Knights would have to face them on their own: all the old heroes of the past were long gone from the memories of the people. The Lady of the Stars and Sky was hard at work doing research far from the epicenter of this madness, the Silent Swordsman had his hands full maintaining what was left of the Spam inflow into the Shack, and the Mods had long separated themselves from the land. ML was somewhere off in the wilderness and Count Sonic was on a futile search to find him, while Sir Dew’s old friend and colleague Dimmle had vanished completely. The only heroes left were either already in direct service to the Queen or impossible to reach. The clichéd band of heroes that dispatched Mika had predictably vanished into obscurity and was nowhere to be found. Yes, it definitely appeared that the Spam Knights would be on their own in this.

Sir Dew grasped his spear more tightly in his hands and began pacing impatiently as he thought. Perhaps the most difficult part of this would be explaining the situation to Her Falshiness. How was he supposed to explain the possibility of rebellion among her subjects to this woman who had given everything to provide their very freedom to Spam? Sir Dew planted the butt of his spear into the soft soil at his feet and leaned up against it, suddenly feeling very weary. “So much to do, so little time,” he whispered to himself.

“Admiring the view?”

Sir Dew startled at the voice in the shadows, quickly standing upright and scanning the garden around him. A man sat on the low garden wall looking up at the moon, a sword resting casually on his shoulder. The red headband wrapped around his forehead flapped quietly in the soft wind. Sir Dew saluted.

“Sir Lunar, I wasn’t expecting anyone else to be here at this hour.”

“At ease, Dew. No need for formalities here.” He got to his feet and planted his blade in the ground, folding his arms across his chest. “What are you up to at this hour?”

“Ah, I was just thinking.”

“Thinking?”

“You know…about everything that’s been going on in the Shack.”

Lunar nodded knowingly. “You mean the lack of Spam, and the angry cries of the Crappies.”

“In so many words, yes.” Dew sighed again. “I really hope it doesn’t come to another Civil War. The Shack can only handle so much before it comes apart at the seams.”

Lunar was uncharacteristically silent, his face upturned toward the moon. For a time the only sound was that of the water babbling through the Queen’s gardens. Finally, he spoke. “The Shack has been through worse times, and it’s always come out of it better in the end. The Shack will persevere.”

Dew looked at his old mentor skeptically. “I’m not so sure, but if you say so…”

Lunar appeared to not hear Dew’s words. “The Shack will persevere,” he said again, his voice solid, arms still crossed across his chest imposingly.

Dew shook his head. Off in his own world again, as usual. “Good night, Sir Lunar.” Dew saluted and took his leave of his superior officer, leaving Lunar to stare at the moon.

Dew, your stuff is so detailed and excellent. It just flows so well. Even this chapter, although short, is a piece of art. You're able to convey a lot in such a small amount of words. Fantastic.

What Lunar said. And KJAHLJKFGALKJDGLJKAGS AWESOMES. ^____^

I don't know how Dew manages to turn the Crap Shack into a serious story.

psy;

flower;

Since I wrote 2 and a half chapters while I was up last night I may as well post another. v;

Chapter 5

“UBUBUBUBUBUBUB! FATTIES EVERYWHERE FUN FUN FUNNN!”

“Please, Saturn, calm down!” Baka did his best to keep his old compatriot composed. Though Saturn had always been a bit hard to control, his mental state had become extremely unstable ever since he had become the Master of Chaos in the battle against Mika. Even Baka had not been prepared for what he would find here.

“Ubububu sorry.” Saturn took a deep breath, repressing the forces of Chaos within him. “You said that you needed help?”

The pair sat around a roaring fire in Saturn’s lair, a small cave hewed out of the hard stone of the Jabberwocky Mountains. Animal furs lined the walls of the cave and acted as both bed and clothing for Saturn. After that final battle, his mind nearly shattered and his cat form lost trying to control the essence of Chaos within him, Saturn had done his best to return to normal life in Crapopolis. Unfortunately, the strain of living with the Chaos inside him became too great, and after a few months spent rebuilding the city he left his home. He retreated from his old life to live in the mountains among his beloved Pikmin friends. Baka looked around him uncomfortably as a pair of chubby Purple Pikmin gazed hungrily at him.

“Uh, yes, yes I did,” Baka answered. “As you may or may not know, the Shack has been in a state of decline ever since Mika was defeated…”

“Do you like mah fatties?” Saturn suddenly broke in, staring wide-eyed at Baka.

“Um, yes, they’re…they’re great.” One of the Purple Pikmin tilted its head and stared questioningly at Baka, the flower bud on its head bending over awkwardly.

“Bacon?”

“Excuse me?”

“Would you like some BACON?” Saturn proffered a pan of sizzling meat to Baka.

“Oh, uh, thanks.” Baka reached out to take some.

“Mah fatties love bacon.” Saturn whispered, leaning forward.

Baka noticed with a sense of unease that the Purple Pikmin had moved in closer at the sight of the bacon. He pulled his hand back. “Uh, maybe I’ll have some later. But back to what we were talking about, if that’s ok. You see, the Shack is in a state of decline, and soon there will be no Spam left at all. I’m approaching you to ask you to join our old group in dethroning Her Falshiness the Queen and giving control of the Shack to the people.”

“OK I’M IN!”

Baka was taken aback. “Just like that? No problems at all?”

“It’s boring out here in the mountains, even with all mah fatties. This sounds like it will bring a bit of chaos to the Shack, and you know how much FUN FUN FUN CHAOS IS BUBUBUBUB!” He jumped to his feet, calling to the Pikmin around him. “DON BURRITO LET’S GOOOO!” The Pikmin abruptly came to attention and crowded around Baka and Saturn, hopping up and down excitedly on their fat, stumpy legs.

“That was considerably easier than I expected,” Baka whispered to himself. He turned back to his host. “Now Saturn, we’ll have to go meet with Ecks and Emmy before we head to the palace in Crapopolis, and before we can even do that we’ll have to find support among the peasants.”

“I JUST WANNA GO INSANEANEANEANEANE!” Saturn bellowed, hopping up and down with his Pikmin followers. “EHEHEHEHE.”

“Well, try to hold onto your wits for a bit longer. I’ll let you know when you can let your Chaos free.” Baka pushed through the crowd of rambunctious Pikmin toward the entrance of Saturn’s cave. He looked out over the jagged peaks and rolling fields of the Shack, his eyes set on the tall walls of Crapopolis far away. The sun was just beginning to break on the horizon. “Prepare yourself, we’re coming,” he said, determination in his words.

“For the good of the Shack.”

Eeeee so epic! zomg;

This is amazing.

Why thank you tophat;

AHHHH SATURN SOUNDS LIKE SATURN AND BAKA IS AWKWARD!!

^______________________^ So awesome Nealan, keep goinggggg.

XB amazing

I think Dew perfectly captured Saturn XB

Chapter 6

“Gentlemen, I thank you for meeting me here this evening on such short notice.” Sir Dew nodded to the four other men sitting around the table. The group sat in near-darkness, their only light a few flickering candles clustered at the center of the table. “I thank Marth especially for the use of his workshop for this meeting.”

The man known as Marth nodded imperceptibly, flicking a crumpled ball of parchment onto the floor. The floor of his basement workshop was littered with similar paper balls, the results of hours of brainstorming to write the perfect lyrics. He made a fine living running his music shop upstairs in one of the shopping districts of Crapopolis, but late at night he slaved in the darkness of his basement, ever chasing his holy grail. Though Marth often came close to reaching his goal he always felt something was eluding him, much to his vexation. He always carried parchment and quill with him, should inspiration ever strike. A quiet yet insightful man, he was an ideal choice to be one of Sir Dew’s informants within the city, aside from being one of Dew’s close friends and confidants.

“Can we hurry this up? The next act of Metroid High School is being performed at the theater soon! The playwright swears it’s a drama, but it gets more laughs than most of the plays billed as actual comedies out there. Absolutely brilliant, the best thing I’ve found in a long time. In the last part Samus caught ‘the cholera’ and if I don’t find out what happens next I swear I will die and you’ll only have yourself to blame.” Lwelyk impatiently tapped his fingers on the table. “This had better be awfully important if you’re going to summon all your informants together like this.” Lwelyk was fairly new to life in the Shack compared to some of its other denizens but he had quickly established himself as one of the most competent men around. Now the proprietor of the Shack’s finest theater, the Apple & Taco, Lwelyk seemed to spend most of his time finding the absolute worst plays imaginable to perform. As might be expected in Crapopolis, the theater did extremely well.

“Though I’ve got nowhere else to be at the moment, I’m fairly curious myself as to why we’ve been gathered here.” Mongoose adjusted his glasses and looked questioningly at Sir Dew from across the table. “I can only assume something major has happened since we last spoke.” Another of the city’s best, Mongoose ran the local walrus shelter, taking in any stray walrus that may need a home and a meal. Prior to the founding of Mongoose’s shelter, Crapopolis faced packs of rabid walrus that roamed the streets at night, slowly yet viciously pulling their blubbery bodies through alleys and avenues and baring their tusks angrily and those foolish enough to walk the streets after sundown. The city was now indebted to Mr. Mongoose for his service.

“Why don’t we all just settle down and let the man speak?” Nob spoke from behind his newspaper, his voice slow and patient. He slowly folded his paper, setting it down gently on the table before him. Nob stared unblinkingly at Dew, waiting patiently, his cat eyes glinting through the darkness. Nob had been one of the Queen’s first informants upon her return to the Shack and could always be counted on to provide careful judgment on any situation. Apart from his reliability and loyalty, his hidden ability to turn himself into a cat made him an ideal and invaluable spy for the Queen. When not prowling the streets of Crapopolis for information he could often be found napping lazily in the warm grass of the Queen’s private gardens.

“Thank you, Nob, I was just about to begin.” Dew coughed, clearing his throat, and then began. “As all of you have told me at one time or another, there has been a lot of grumbling lately about the state of the Shack.” The men around the table nodded assent: there was no uncertainty on that point. Dew continued, “It cannot be denied that Spam is now at an all-time low, despite the best efforts of Her Falshiness to remedy the situation and promote new Spam growth. Chancellor Silent Swordsman has been doing everything in his power to maintain the Shack’s Spam levels as they are, but even with his divine power he will eventually be unable to maintain even the low Spam levels we have now. Indeed, the situation does look grim for us at the moment.”

“We already know about all this because we already told you about it,” Lwelyk snapped. A sheepish look suddenly came over him. “Er, sorry. I just really want to see my show.”

“Understood, Lwelyk, and I apologize for being so longwinded. As brevity is the soul of wit, I will do my best to arrive at my point with all speed.”

“More matter with less art,” Nob muttered next to Dew, nudging him forward with his speech.

“Oh, erm, my apologies. In any case, the Queen is doing all in her power to devise a further way of reviving the Shack. Councilor Lunar has been hard at work planning as well. However, the people remain restless, which I suppose they cannot be blamed for. However, Nob has told me recently that there is talk of…” Dew hesitated, feeling the word too horrible to say aloud. “The people speak of…rebellion.”

Lwelyk gasped. “It is unthinkable! To defy the Saria!” He rose from his chair, pounding his fist on the table.

“Calm down, don’t have a heart attack,” Mongoose said soothingly, gently pushing Lwelyk back into his chair.

Marth frowned, speaking for the first time that evening. “So they’re starting again. Typical.” He further compressed the ball of parchment in his hand.

Nob remained silent, staring expectantly at Dew. Dew nodded back, preparing to continue. “There has been word in the countryside that a group of vigilantes has begun to form a resistance movement against the Queen, with the ultimate aim of dethroning her and turning rule of the Shack over to the people. As one of the Royal Spam Knights, I have taken an oath to never allow this to happen. Nob has similar ties to the Queen, but the rest of you have no such vow binding you. Aside from bringing you here to inform you of these recent events, I now ask you where your loyalties lie and what you will do should worst come to worst. I doubt any of you will side with the rebels, but I’d like to know your final thoughts on the matter.” Dew looked at the three civilians, awaiting their responses.

Lwelyk was the first to speak. “I feel indebted to Queen Saria, but…I don’t think I can devote myself to protecting her throne. I’ve got my own life here to think about too, you know. I’d like to stay neutral in all of this. Know that I won’t side with those rebels, but I can’t throw in everything I’ve got with the Queen either. I hope you understand.”

Dew nodded, his face impassive. “And the rest of you?” He looked to Mongoose.

Mongoose adjusted his glasses, preparing his words carefully. “I’d certainly hate to see Her Falshiness dethroned, but I must agree with Lwelyk. I’ve got more than my own life to worry about here. Should something happen to me, I shudder to think what would happen to my poor walri. You can be assured that I will not side with those hooligans, but I cannot give anything more to the Queen than my prayers and best wishes.”

“I see. Thank you, Mongoose,” Dew said. “And you, Marth?”

Marth was quiet for a moment, eyes fixed upon the dancing flames perched atop towers of wax at the table’s center. Finally, he spoke: “Someone always seems to be unhappy with the way things are here. Rather than find a peaceful solution, war always seems to be the first answer shouted by the masses. I want nothing to do with any of this mess. Sorry.”

Dew nodded once again, sympathetic. “I understand.” He stood from his chair. “I thank you all for your consideration and good sense. I’m glad at least that none of you are supportive of those who would seek to destroy our Queen. Please, all of you take care throughout all this mess. I wouldn’t want any of you to suffer on behalf of the Queen for your past service or sympathies. I wish you all the best. With that, I suppose that brings this meeting to a close.”

The men around the table rose from their chairs, an awkward silence hanging in the air around them. Lwelyk mumbled a few words of goodbye and hurried up the stairs to the first floor. Mongoose followed, uttering apologies. “I’ll wait for you upstairs, Dew,” Nob said, following Mongoose up the staircase.

Marth still stood at the table, tossing the crumpled ball of paper in his hand up and down. Dew searched for the words he wanted to say, but they eluded him. Marth was the one to break the silence. “Sounds like you’ve got a lot on your plate.”

Dew smiled. “Yeah, you could say that. I’m sure the Spam Knights will manage, though. At least, I hope so.” He sighed. “Hey Marth…take care of yourself, ok?”

Marth looked up from the table. “You take care of yourself too.”

“Heh, I’ll do my best. See you around, Marth.”

“See you.”

Dew turned to leave, walking toward the staircase, but Marth stopped him. “Remember, you still need to see Pearl Jam play.” He smiled.

Dew smiled back. “Heh, I remember. Maybe when this is all over. Later, Marth.”

“Later.”

The Spam Knight climbed the stairs, wincing at the sudden sunlight in his eyes. A voice from behind took him from surprise.

“So, think the Royal Spam Knights can handle this on their own?” Nob asked, walking up from behind Dew.

Dew sighed. “I sure hope so. It doesn’t look like there’s much other choice. Come on, Her Falshiness is going to want to know how the meeting went. We’d better get back to the castle.” They walked out into the sunlight, Dew wondering when this would all end.

DEW YOU'RE SO GOOD AT THIS

I love how you managed to get my involvement and lack there of at the same time XB

WHEEEE SO MUCH EPIC zomg;

XB

Your first line was taken directly from your post in the thread that the event this story is based on started in. navi;

O__________O
AIGSHDGISHD DEW SO EPIC WRITE MORE AND MAYBE LET ME BE IN ONE OF THE NEXT ONES BUT YOU CAPTURED EVERYONE SO WELL AND CAPS LOCK IS CRUISE CONTROL FOR COOL! ^_______^

i pwn

you pwn

we all pwn

this story pwns