This Thursday 4/6/17 at 12 PM (EST) in The DK Store pre-orders will be opening for the canonical color ways of Quazarec and Toron in Mech Suit. Sanjeev and I have been working hard behind the scenes to bring you this drop, and if you read on you can see the full details of what will be available.
The enigmatic traveler known as Quazarec was constructed by a highly-advanced, telepathic race millennia ago as a vessel for their collective consciousness. The bronze android was sent out as an explorer and ambassador of peace, but after having been drawn into countless wars to free sentient beings on countless worlds, Quazarec now doggedly pursues cosmic-level threats to life throughout the universe. Drawn through a mysterious rift in space, Quazarec senses the intense evil of a creature known as Acromancer, but now finds himself trapped in another dimension…on a planet called Jalldoon. Backed by the psionic might of his people, Quazarec’s power can be tempered only by his Control Orb—a conduit for unimaginable force, but also the one device that prevents the psychic rage of his people from overwhelming him. Isolated from his home world’s reality, Quazarec’s abilities are diminished. His race’s telepathy is strong enough to transcend dimensional barriers…but only just. Does he have enough power to find and stop the entity that lured him here?
Each figure is $80 and includes 1 removable helmet, 1 chest armor with glow-in-the-dark insert, 1 armored belt, and 1 halberd with glow-in-the-dark marble. The 3D-printed head and limbs are fully-compatible with the Zoloworld Interchangeable body.
Mechanized Battle Suit Toron
Created by Toron for times when he might need an edge against the evils of Jalldoon his Mechanized Battle Suit is capable of folding up into a small pack which Toron can easily carry with him on the various adventures he finds himself embroiled in. With the suit at full-size Toron slimes his way inside the suit which gives him enhanced strength, speed, and protection. Once inside the only bits of Toron that are visible are his hands, eyes, and chest which Toron uses to absorb various things as well as shoot out deadly blasts of slime to ensnare enemies.
Each figure is $30 and features articulation at the head, waist, shoulders, hips, and wrists. Also included are the Cult Leader’s sword and one of the fabled Skeleton Idols with gem. Toron’s hands will work with most ROTU and vintage 5.5 weapons and accessories as well as all 3D printed weapons from Rampageo Industries.
Additionally I’ll have a very limited number of Lair of the Dark Wizard sets left over from Zcon as well.
The Lair of the Dark Wizard
As Prince Algor, and Toron travel down the road running along the edge of Barrwood Forest they are approached by a kindly old man. Walking hunched over with an ornate staff stabilizing him the old man offers the pair a place to stay for the coming night. After following the cloaked man back to his camp at the mouth of a cave the slimes are offered food and drink next to a roaring fire. They ate their fill, and Algor drank feely of the man’s wine. Toron not being in much of a wine mood stuck with his flask of Jalldoonian brandy, and the three talked into the night as they drifted off to sleep under the night sky. Later that night Toron was woken by a passing creature crunching through the undergrowth of the forest. As he tried to fall back asleep he noticed a strange chanting coming from the woods, and as he got closer he saw the old man stirring a bubbling brew in a cauldron as he chanted towards an ancient looking idol. As Toron crept forward to hear what was being chanted he could clearly make out the word Sacrifice. The realization that himself and Algor were mostly likely the target of this sacrifice Toron rushed back to camp to wake up Algor, but getting there he found Algor out cold…a victim of drugged wine no doubt. As Toron pulled a vile of crushed Soot Root out of his pack and quickly sprinkled it on Algor’s face he could hear the old man approaching through the woods. Algor sat up coughing with a start as the Soot Root shocked his system awake, and he barely had a second to realize what was going on before Toron said quietly “Trouble” before thrusting Algor’s sword into his hands. As the old man hobbled into the clearing and saw the two Slimes awake he screamed “YOU WILL DIE!!!!” as he stood straight up revealing himself to be in fact not an old man at all, but a fully competent Wizard in his prime. His cloak blew all around him as magic energy swirled . The wizard pointed his staff at Algor as a wicked beam shot out of it, and if Algor hadn’t quickly rolled away he’d have been toast. The Wizard cast spells left and right as Algor dodged and weaved around, but he seemed to have forgotten Toron was even there as the old Slime prepared a net grenade to capture the fiend. As the grenade flew the air it expanded into a large net trapping the wizard beneath it, but as Prince Algor approached to deliver the killing blow there was a puff of smoke, and as it cleared the two Slimes saw nothing but an empty net on the ground. The Slimes gathered their belongings and made haste leaving the woods under the cover of darkness unsure if they would be accosted by the Wizard again, but by the time morning had come they were safely down the road away from the Lair of the Dark Wizard. Beware travelers of Jalldoon as this Wizard is still at large, and likely still trying to make sacrifices to his evil Idol this very moment.
The Lair of The Dark Wizard Accessory Sets are in a mixed color assortment for $20. Each set includes 1 Staff, 1 Cauldron, One Bubble Insert, Two Potions (one of which matches the bubble insert in that set, and the other a random color). Each set works with most The Exciting World of Jalldoon, Realm of the Underworld, and other 5.5 Scale figures modern or vintage.
So all that stuff will be up in The Store Thursday 4/6/17 at 12PM EST. Now let’s take a look at the story for this drop….
The Bronze God of Bakurados
(Story by Jesse Chagnon and Sanjeev Selvaraj)
The carriage wheels squeaked on the dirt road as Toron looked out the window. He could see the large gates of Bakurados Bay in front of them as the ride pulled to a stop. Algor hopped out and started grabbing their packs from the back as he looked up at the massive wall surrounding the city before them. Finishing the last of his ale, Toron joined his companion as they marveled at the spires reaching towards the sky just beyond. The two Slimes had come to the Bay City to accept a shipment of weapons coming from Gato. With the threat of Master Boshak and Baron Drackholme’s combined forces threatening Jalldoon, the heroes would need the best weapons…and no weapon on the planet could compare to the nigh-unbreakable Gatonian Steel usually reserved exclusively for the catlike people of Gato. Fortunately for our heroes, Grar had pulled a few strings back home to secure an arsenal for the forces of good. Algor looked at Toron. “I’ve always loved Bakurados Bay, Tor” he said. ”Ever since my mother took me here years ago before Ikari was born. The pointed spires, the tropical plants…the lawlessness of the pirates and scoundrels–how could a young Slime NOT go wild with adventure?” Algor’s mind wandered to his long-lost mother for a moment before being broken out of his reverie by Toron. “Your mother and her archaeological digs exposed you to a lot didn’t they, Al?” Now bereft of ale, the old Slime pulled out his personal flask and shook it before adding, “I sure hope there is some wine on that boat because my flask is nearly empty…and you know the only wine I drink is Gatonian!” With this Toron smiled and took a long swig.
The large gates creaked open to reveal a skinny human and two guards. Through a long, curled mustache, the man spoke, “Ahhh Prince Algor…His Majesty, Captain Zarharra, King of the Pirates, sends his apologies for not being here himself to greet you. One of his many wives is giving birth to his sixteenth child this morning, so you will understand his absence”. The man absentmindedly twirled his mustache around his finger as he spoke. Algor nodded, “The birth of a child is always cause for celebration, and for this we will excuse the Pirate King’s indiscretion in the face of the ancient laws of the Covenant of Crowns,” the Slime said with only a hint of sarcasm. “Yes, great Slime Prince, I have been authorized to give you whatever you need during your stay here in Bakurados Bay. I am the Royal Vizier, and I am at your disposal,” the man said as he led them into the city. As they made their way through the city towards the docks, they passed through the great bazaar and the smells of spices from the farthest reaches of Jalldoon assaulted the Slimes. Fabrics, food items, and creatures not native to the Southwest region of the planet were everywhere, and among the stalls, you could find almost anything you wanted or needed. As they walked by one vendor, they could see him shooing some kids away, and as they looked around they could see other children speaking to merchants at other stalls in the bazaar. The Vizier turned to the Slimes, “As you can see, we have a growing problem with the poor here in Bakurados Bay ever since the fishing sector was closed down due to the indiscretions of the Fish Master.”
As they approached the docks, they saw the Hogashin Dock Master leaning on a barrel, smoking a pipe, and as they approached his snout recoiled at the Slimes. “Please, my friends, keep your distance. I never could stand the smell of Slimes” he said. Algor laughed. “Well please direct us to the ship from Gato, and our stink will bother you no more, sir” he said, stepping back from the Dock Master a few inches. At this, the Hogashin shook his head and frowned. “Conflicting reports are coming in about a terrible lightning storm or some sort of tidal wave at sea that has likely pushed your boat back by a few days, but we’ve heard nothing from the ship itself. There really is no way to know,” he said with a grunt. Algor looked at Toron, “I guess we’ve got a few days to kill in Bakurados Bay, eh bud?” he asked with a smile.
The Vizier set them up at one of the best inns in the city at no cost while they awaited their shipment’s arrival. Algor dropped his pack on the cushy bed. “Well Tor, I’m going to try my luck at the Pit, I think,” he said, grabbing his sword. Toron frowned, “Al, you’ve been doing an awful lot of…trying your luck…recently. Maybe we should use this time to take a break from killing?” the elder Slime suggested. Algor laughed, “come on Toron, we’ve got to stay fighting fit if we’re going to save the planet right? What’s a little bit of arena fighting gonna hurt?” he said as he walked out the door. Toron was concerned for his friend; since he’d returned from the Underworld, he had become increasingly violent and seemed to revel in death…both traits the prince hadn’t had before. He thought about the mission the Magi had sent him on to retrieve the artifacts that would somehow help remove this evil infecting the Prince, but for the moment, there wasn’t much the old Slime could do. So why not hit the taverns to sample the tastes of Bakurados Bay?
Toron was not disappointed in the delights of the Bay. At the first tavern he went to, he drained two flagons of fermented Crystal Cat Milk (an extremely rare treat, considering the ferocity of its source), as well as a snifter of Glowberry Brandy. Feeling the warm embrace of a nice buzz coming on, he decided to check out the next tavern in the plaza. As he made his way through the bustling streets of the city, he cut through a dark alley only to be surprised by the glowing specter of one of the Slime Elder Magi in his path. Toron hopped back. “By gods, you scared the Slime out of me,” he said to the shimmering projection of the Magi. The apparition replied, “My apologies, Toron, but since you’re already alone in Bakurados Bay, we thought the moment opportune for you to secure another artifact that resides here in the city.” As the Magi spoke, a glowing map of the city appeared in before Toron. Close to the northern edge of the city, a large spire jutted above most of the buildings near it. The Magi spoke again, “here you will find an amulet, which has become the focus of a local human cult. This amulet will, in conjunction with the other artifacts, help us pull this evil infecting Prince Algor out of his body.” As he said this, the map twinkled out of existence leaving behind a faint glow in the air before dissipating fully. Toron looked at the Magi for a second, “Well…I may have imbibed a bit too much to retrieve anything from anyone tonight,” he said as he wobbled a bit from side to side. The Magi suggested he go home and get some rest, but the night was young. So under the guise of investigation, Toron decided to check a few more of the local taverns before heading back to the inn. Several taverns later, Toron had become quite a bit more drunk than he had been previously, but he hadn’t been able to learn anything new about these cultists or their operation here in Bakurados Bay. The old Slime decided he had the fortitude for one more drink before heading back to the Inn for the night.
Toron entered a tavern called Holly Hox’s Heaping Hopshack, and hopped up onto an empty stool at the bar. As the barkeep approached, Toron asked the large man what the specialty of the house was. “Well my friend,” the barkeep began, stroking his pointed goatee, “that would be the Para Bomb: we take a fermented Paraparadon egg, and we crack it into a flagon of Grogglin Ale. If I must say, it really hits the spot, sir.” With this, he winked his one eye. Toron smiled. “I’ll take two pal,” he said as he plunked a stack of gold down on the well-worn bar. As he sipped his brew, Toron looked around the busy tavern. Moments later, his dulled senses picked up on the word “cultists” from two talking fishermen at a table nearby. Toron smiled. He looked at the barkeep, “another round for those two on me,” he said plinking a few more gold coins down before heading over to the table. Pulling up a nearby chair, Toron greeted the fishermen. “Gentlemen, I couldn’t help overhearing a bit of your conversation. Next round’s on me if you wouldn’t mind sharing with an old, curious Slime,” he said as the waitress placed three ales on the table. One of the fishermen looked at Toron. “Buddy, if you’re buying rounds, I’ll tell you stories all night,” he chuckled, taking a sip from his new glass. Toron raised his drink to the men, “then please tell me about these cultists!” The fisherman started his story from the beginning.
“You see, I was in the old fishing sector. And ever since that drunken fool Fish Master crossed the Mad Butcher at the Festival of Lights last year–and paid for it with his life–we all been out of work! So I’m forced to scavenge the derelict buildings for scrap to sell…..anyways I’m in there, and I’d just gotten a pretty nice rod from under some debris when I hear a commotion. Wouldn’t you know it, I saw some of them Children of the Beetle cult members dragging a woman into the abandoned neighborhood. Now naturally, my friend, I’m not one to get involved in a fight with a bunch of those cult wackos, but the girl looked a lot like this local bar-rat you always see at the Parrot’s Beak over by the Bazaar. Anyways, these hooded goons are dragging this poor girl to do only gods know what to her, and I’m cowering behind a crate, just hoping they don’t spot me…when suddenly this…this…daemon with huge horns bursts right through an old building with a blinding flash and terrible sound. This thing was huge…and it ripped those cultists apart with ease. I don’t know what happened after that as I took off and never looked back, but I saw that old drunk wobbling around the city the next day, so she must have escaped being devoured by that thing. Now…if you’d like to buy another round, I can tell you all about the time I ate boiled bomb bats?” Grinning, the fisherman winked at Toron after sipping the last of his ale. Toron waved over the barkeep and turned back to the fisherman, “my friend, I appreciate the offer, but I must be on my way…however here’s some gold. Buy as many rounds as you like, and may your luck change soon.” Toron hopped down from his chair and started making his way in the direction of the Parrot’s Beak Pub. If the old Slime had been just a bit less drunk, he may have noticed the two children sitting near the roaring fire of the tavern, listening intently to the story he had just heard himself.
Swaying his way through the streets that had gotten a bit less crowded with the advancing hour of the night, Toron found the Parrot’s Beak Pub and made his way inside. He sauntered his way up to the bar, made eye contact with the barkeep, and asked her if she knew of a regular who had recently spoken of cultists or some sort of great daemon. Before the barkeep could even answer, an obviously very-drunk woman approached the Slime. She looked at Toron with lusty, hooded eyes. “Cultists, you say? Cultists…yeah, I know all about those sons of bitches…but as for ‘daemons’, I got nothing for you, hun.” She ran her fingers through her long, dark hair before adding, “unless of course you mean the bronze god…clad in armor made of stars…” The woman trailed off as Toron smiled at his luck. “Please, madam, would you care to elaborate on what happened to you? I’ll buy you another round,” the Slime asked. The woman smiled back. “Hun, how about you come back to my place and we can talk about it on the way? I haven’t been too keen on walking around alone at night as of late” she said. Toron took her up on her offer and walked her out of the pub as she began her story.
“Well hun, I was making my way home late the night before last, and from a dark alley, four of those Children of the Ladybug or whatever they call themselves grabbed me. Now, love, I can normally take care of myself, you see, but four-on-one is a pretty tough match up for anyone…let alone when they’ve had a drinky-pooh or two. So these cult jerks start dragging me into the abandoned fishing sector despite my kicking and screaming the whole way. My head was spinning and before I knew it, I couldn’t see the lights of city anymore. I fought back, but these animals just kept trying to…reassure me. They told me what an honor it would be to be sacrificed to their gem or whatever. But the next thing I saw, hun, I will never forget as long as I live. Just as they dragged me towards some rundown building, the wall bursts out in a bright explosion, and standing there is this gleaming man with bronze skin and armor that twinkled like stars in the night sky. It felt like the light and heat of a sun burned from his chest. How could such a magnificent being NOT be a god!? I dropped to the ground and my head felt like it was swimming…but all I heard was the awful screams of those cultists. The next thing I knew, the god offered me his hand. I think I heard him say something about not being evil as he helped me up. He got no argument from me! But I was so shaken, I just hurried back to town, locked myself in my flat, and cried myself dry for the next day. I should have at least asked his name…” Toron chuckled. “Well love, this is my place, if you’d like to come up for a nightcap,” she said, fishing her key out from inside her dress. Toron thought for a long moment, but decided better of following her upstairs. “No, madam, it would be dishonorable to take advantage of you in the state we’re both in, but please have a wonderful evening,” he said, kissing her hand.
The sun was almost up and Toron would need some rest before attempting to break into the cult’s base the next night, so he headed back to the inn. When he arrived, he discovered Algor asleep on his bed with two lovely lasses, a giant sack of gold on the night table, and the Prince’s sword coated in dried blood resting against the wall. Toron shook his head. “Well, he may be infected with evil, but at least Al is enjoying himself,” he said to no one in particular as he hopped up onto his own bed. As he lay there thinking, Toron wondered if this being he’d heard about was a terrible daemon, a star god, or something else entirely…but there were far more important things to worry about as far as he was concerned. That night, Toron’s sleep was fitful. The disturbing image of a towering man with great horns, reaching out to choke Toron, bothered him throughout the night.
The next morning Toron woke with his head pounding and his slime dry–an all too familiar feeling for the old Slime. “Only one cure: ‘hair of the dog,’” Toron said to himself as he looked around the room. Algor and the girls from last night had already left, and Toron was all alone as he limped out of bed. He made his way to the closest tavern and ordered up a Bloody Morgel to soothe the pain coursing through him. After a couple more drinks, he made his way back to the inn to get some more sleep. The sun had already set by the time he woke up, but there was still time to kill before he thought it was safe enough to sneak into the cultist’s stronghold, so he went out to get some dinner and enjoy the bazaar. A few hours later, when it was just after midnight, Toron left the jubilant city in the direction of the fishing sector. As he passed the Pit, he could hear the crowd chanting, “Algor! Algor! Algor!” Toron surmised that the evening’s contests were drawing to a close and that Al would once again have himself a successful night. As he crossed over into the abandoned part of the city, Toron wondered to himself what the Fish Master had done to anger the King of the Pirates…but knowing Abdul Zarharra like he did after years serving the Slime Kingdom, he knew it likely wasn’t anything that warranted the man’s death. The veteran Slime took care to be as stealthy as possible crossing through the fishing sector in case he ran afoul of this dangerous god or daemon he had heard tales of. As he approached the tower that had once been the Fish Master’s office, he saw two hooded figures guarding the door with spears. Not wanting to alert the cultists, Toron made his way to the rear of the tower. As he studied the outer wall, he pulled his suit in its small black box out of his pack. As he pushed the button on his remote, the suit flipped out of itself. Orange-colored metal glistening in the moonlight, and Toron took a moment to admire the new coat of paint he had applied to his pride and joy. Toron squished his way inside the suit, and finding a good grip, he started scaling the large sandstone tower.
The suit made climbing the tower a breeze, and soon, Toron was slipping over the railing of the balcony adorning the tower like a crown. As he snuck inside, he found himself in a large office that took up the top floor of the building. Toron was stunned for a moment when he saw a rough-hewn stone carving of a human skeleton just like the ones they had found at Hawkstorm Keep and in the tomb. An amulet dangled from this particular gruesome effigy’s hand. Toron was troubled by what he saw–the Magi had sent him after such artifacts, but had consistently failed to mention the skeleton idols three times in a row now. That was a question for later, however. He walked over to the statue, but as he reached for the amulet, all the torches in the room suddenly ignited at once and he heard the shuffling of cloaks behind him. He turned to see a group of armed cultists glaring at him as one stepped forward. “Infidel, you have chosen the wrong place to steal from this day…but have no fear, as your death will feed the divine scarab and your soul will forever live on in the belly of our god!” The leader rushed toward Toron, sword raised in the air. Toron’s considerable combat experience made his attacker look silly, as a blow crashed into the human’s face. Toron grabbed the leader’s sword as he crumpled to the floor. More cultists began pouring into the room. The brightly-armored Slime fought fiercely, but the horde seemed endless. On the edge of being overwhelmed, a sudden flash of light stunned Toron as the press of the attack immediately ceased. Only beginning to take in what had just happened, Toron was shocked to see the burned corpse of every cultist littering about the floor. The magic shockwave had dissipated and he looked up to see all three of the Slime Elder Magi concluding a terrible chant that sounded awful to Toron’s ears. Wasting no time, the center Magi began, “Toron, the Prince is in mortal danger. As we speak, he is stalked by a daemon. You must save Algor and secure the beast’s weapon, as it will be crucial in saving the Prince from the evil that infects him.” Toron gestured towards the incinerated bodies strewn about the room, “what abou–?” “The solids are not of your concern” the Magi on the left interjected. “Your responsibility is to the Prince. We will see to the artifact. Now, go.” Toron picked up the sword he’d been using and looked up at the Magi once more. “Okay…but later, we need to talk. I want answers before I continue running your errands,” he said before jumping over the edge of the balcony. As the Magi formed a circle around the skeleton idol, the gem embedded in the amulet began to glow from within. “Brothers, it would appear that the spells are working, and the items we seek are falling into our grasp, one by one.” As he spoke, the amulet began to float into the air before them. Another Magi continued, “and it even appears that the android trapped within this realm will come to serve our purposes.” “Aye, brother,” the last Magi responded, “Jalldoon will once again be safe.” In unison, the three Slime Elder Magi began chanting once more.
Toron landed on the ground with a dull thud as the suit easily absorbed the shock of the fall. As Toron stormed off in the direction of the docks, two small forms huddled near the base of the tower crept from the shadows. The pair looked up to see a third child appear on the roof of another derelict office across the street. A small object tossed from the top of the building landed on the ground near the two, and they immediately scurried over to examine it. One child picked up the stone–a piece of sea glass. “Green. That’s the signal!” The other seemed nervous and hesitated, “But we’re disobeying orders as it is.” The first remained resolute and shook his head. “We HAVE to tell her.” And with that, the pair sped off into the darkness of the fishing sector.
Toron was desperate to find any sign of Algor…or of battle. As he ran, his mind swam with distracting thoughts. Did Toron hear one of the Magi refer to the humans as “solids”?? He vaguely recalled the ugly, centuries-old slur for non-Slimes from a collection of the earliest records of dimensional rifts on Jalldoon. But more to the point, if the Magi were powerful enough to wipe out a whole room full of enemies, why weren’t they searching for the magical items themselves? And what about these skeleton idols and why do they keep showing up? Toron and Algor had accepted the existence of the legendary Magi; to them, the Magi were paragons of wisdom and justice. But something didn’t feel right. Toron resolved that once they were back at the Keep, he would begin researching these idols and magical items for himself…but for now, he needed to focus and locate Algor before anything terrible befell the prince. It was just after dawn, and as he rushed through the empty streets of the fishing sector, Toron almost ran into a human woman sprinting back towards town. As she sped by, she blurted out, “he’s killing the Slime…the beast is killing him! Run for your life!” Filled with as much dread as relief, Toron charged in the direction she had come from, as the sounds of combat in the distance grew louder…
Face down on the ground, Algor struggled to turn himself over as smoke rose from a vicious wound on the Slime Prince’s back. He dragged his sword towards him and tried to look back at whatever it was that had attacked him. In the blazing dawn light, all Algor could make out was the black silhouette of a staff-wielding humanoid with great horns. As the shadowy creature started to walk towards where he lay, its chest and the orb atop its staff began to glow as brightly as the sun behind it. “For the millions of innocent lives your evil has consumed…for the worlds you have yet to burn…NO MORE. Prepare for oblivion.” The mysterious warrior raised its staff, ready to deal the final blow…
She knew it wasn’t considered “polite”, but the little girl continued to stare up at the motionless being for what seemed like ages. Levitating several feet above the ground, the creature in turn stared silently at the one tree that grew near the cliff edge. They were about a mile from shore, along a tall ridge away from the fishing villages on the outskirts of Bakurados Bay. The ancient, twisted tree stood on the tallest outcropping, and the litte girl would sometimes come there alone to play. A large, purple-armored man hovering in front of the tree was not something she was expecting. “Mister, what are you doing?” she asked innocently. After a moment, the being spoke. “This tree is the oldest living thing on your planet.” He turned to face the little girl before continuing, “For two of your days, I have been communicating with it on a low psionic level in order to determine where I am…and why I have been trapped in this realm.” The girl kicked around a rock on the ground, “oh…you’re new here.”
The massive warrior slowly descended to the ground before landing with an akward thud. The girl rushed over to help steady him as he fell to one knee. Close up, she noticed all the chips, holes, and burn marks on his armor and bronze-colored skin. Mounted to his back was a curious black staff capped what appeared to be a sparkling glass sphere housed in a heavy, blade-like structure. The creature steadied himself before rising to his full height. He looked down at the girl and asked, “Are you a representative of this planet’s leadership?” The girl replied, “no…I’m Janisa. And you’re on planet Jalldoon.” The gleaming man said, “I am Quazarec.” He looked back at the tree before continuing, “Janisa, the tree tells me that your world is in great peril…and that the growing crisis revolves around the only intelligent race indigenous to this planet: Slimes.” The little girl looked down at the ground, as if deep in thought. She suddenly looked up at Quazarec, “I can take you to the crisis…but you have to come back home with me!”
Sensing no malice from the young human, Quazarec accepted the invitation, and the pair made their way slowly back to her village. Quazarec stumbled a couple times along the way. “How did you get here, kway-…kway–…” “Quazarec,” he corrected. “I was lured to this reality when I sensed a malevolence I had never felt before through a spacetime rift of origin…no science I’m aware of can explain.” The sunlight glinted off the gold nano-circuitry embedded in his skin as Quazarec continued to recall the events of the past few days. In the coldness of interstellar space, an inexplicable tear in reality beckoned him with terrible visions of hatred and subjugation. The billions of telepathic minds collected in his own consciousness knew that such a potentially destructive force could not go unchallenged, even if it meant the loss of their warrior-avatar. In the skies above the South Seas of Jalldoon, the opposite end of the portal burst open with a wild eruption of energy. Quazarec was flung through and crashed into the surface of the water with such force that the massive wave resulting from the impact nearly wrecked the freighter, The Pride of Gato, miles away. Nearly a day later, the android had recovered enough to walk back to shore along the bottom of the ocean. Emerging from the water, his cosmic senses could detect no trace of the portal. He was trapped. With this realization, the orb at the end of his staff sizzled with dancing flecks of light as Quazarec swore to find whoever dared do this.
As the pair entered the village, Quazarec noticed two curious things. One was the fascinating mixture of ancient tools and hyper-advanced technology. Local rifts in spacetime were clearly not uncommon on this world. But more troubling, there seemed to be very few adults in the village other than some elderly vagrants and homeless people. Upon arriving at her home, Janisa raced ahead and disappeared through the door. Quazarec followed, but then paused abruptly before the entrance. “Please, that won’t be necessary.” A moment later, a young adult woman sheepishly stepped into the entrance from the side, wielding a heavy tree branch. The little girl just laughed, “you don’t need to test him, sis! I found a real tough one for ya!” Embarrassed, the older sibling introduced herself as Anika and began her story. She mentioned a squabble involving local cartels in the Bay city leaving the fishing industry decimated and the village nearly destitute. But what made matters worse–much worse–was the rise of a violent cult that had begun kidnapping people and driving out the few families left in town. Many young people were left with nowhere to go and nothing but each other…so Anika had decided that the only way they could fight back and have a chance was to hire a strong fighter to help them destroy the cult. And the only way to be sure she was hiring the right person was to “test” their skills. With a club upside the head. At this, Quazarec looked down at the little girl. “THIS is the crisis that threatens your world??” Janisa just smiled back up at the space traveler. Just then, Quazarec suddenly looked up, as though hearing something in the distance. The orb atop his staff began to glow again.
Later that night, the older sister built a fire and gathered all the young people of the village who refused to leave. Quazarec listened to their stories. Stories of families broken up. Stories of poverty. Stories of being terrorized. Once all the children had had their say, Quazarec spoke. “I sense that your intent is just. And I believe our goals may, in fact, be related.” He went on to explain that he is an android, built by a highly advanced, telepathic race to be a vessel for their collective consciousness. His powers were techno-psionic in nature, but because of the dimensional barriers separating the realities, his connection to his people–and thus, his powers–were extremely limited. Some of the younger kids started fidgeting, confused by Quazarec’s exposition. Janisa stood up suddenly and addressed the gathering in the firelight. “Look, Quazarec is a star god…come to help us…but he’s weak right now. He needs time to heal. He needs us!” Anika rose alongside her sister, “It’s gotta be the Children of the Beetle! Quazarec can sense an evil presence on the move in Bakurados Bay. We’ve spent months organizing with the kids from the other villages. The time to act is now!” The rest of the night, Anika began organizing the older kids into teams to make contact with groups from other villages. The message was simple: begin preparations to take on the cult. Meanwhile, Quazarec watched the younger children making music and dancing around the fire. The space traveler smiled. “These beings are more evolved than I had realized.”
The golden nano-scale machines permeating the android’s body continued to repair his superstructure and armor throughout the next day. Quazarec knew the process that would take days on Jalldoon would have been completed in mere moments in his native reality. Still, the children singing songs of freedom, youthful bravado, and revolution as they fished for their meals generated an empathic resonance that accelerated his healing. Quazarec hadn’t felt this at peace in quite some time. He touched one of his green bracers and the glittering points of light embedded in his purple armor began to shine brighter and brighter until all of his high-tech cladding became bathed in light. An instant later, the armor vanished completely, leaving only his boots, bracers, sleeveless black bodysuit, and the ever-present orb staff levitating at his side.
Without his great, horned helmet, Quazarec’s head was exposed to the sun for the first time since being lured to Jalldoon. He had no hair and his featureless eyes were the same bronze color as his glossy synthetic skin. The android began telepathically probing Bakurados Bay for any sign of cult activity or evil in general. Nothing. Impossible. He soon realized that the Bay was heavily shrouded in powerful magic–a force against which Quazarec was weak. Suddenly, the cosmic traveler fell to his knees as a powerful psionic vision overtook him. He saw a terrifying warrior–a shape-shifter in humanoid form–wielding a broadsword with great precision. And great cruelty. A Slime…who at that very moment was traveling towards Bakurados Bay. “Why’s your ball glowing?” Quazarec was suddenly broken out of his vision by Janisa’s question. They both looked over at his staff, at the top of which, the sphere seethed with an awful light. “That is my Control Orb. Dark matter is used to contain a forced quantum singularity that…” It didn’t take a telepath to read the expression on the little girl’s face. “Very well,” Quazarec continued. “Because of our link, my people see what I see and I feel what they feel. While my people’s thoughts and determination empower me, their collective emotions–rage, grief, fear–can potentially overwhelm me and cause…malfunction. This device helps temper those emotions.” Their conversation was cut short by kids arriving with reports on the cultists’ activity.
As night fell, Anika and the other older kids assessed the potential strongholds of the cult they had identified. Quazarec was impressed with their committment as well as their progress, though he did warn them not to engage the cult directly. While the discussion of resistance strategies continued, Quazarec began practicing using his staff as a melee weapon–something he hasn’t had to do in centuries. He wasn’t yet fully healed, but he felt the evil force that had trapped him on this planet was drawing closer. As he practiced by the fire, an impulse of pure terror lanced through the mystical fog that was clouding Quazarec’s empathy. He knew an innocent life was in immediate danger…and the sensation came from a location very close to one of the cultist bases in the Bay.
In the near-abandoned fishing sector of Bakurados Bay, a fully-armored Quazarec swept through the streets, ignoring the few terrified homeless people and drunks here and there. His Control Orb began to glow with anticipation as the android prepared himself to deliver the ultimate sanction. The magic obscuring his senses was even more potent here in the Bay, but he knew he was close.
The four Children of the Beetle could not understand why the woman was resisting them. Did she not comprehend the great honor they were about to bestow upon her?? They had explained the glory of being selected as a sacrifice to the Great Scarab, but still she fought them. Perhaps she was too drunk to understand? One cultist tried in vain to cover her mouth as she began shouting–as much cries for help as blasphemous epithets about the cultists. There was no one to hear her though…not in this part of the city. As they approached their hideout, a sudden blast of energy tore through the front of building from within. Quazarec stepped through the burning wreckage, the plasma emitter in the middle of his chest still glowing hot from the discharge. The five humans stared dumbfounded for a moment as the moonlight glinting off his glittery armor and firelight picked out the gold shimmering just beneath his artificial skin. The moment did not last long. As the human female dropped to the ground, Quazarec silently went to task, whirling his staff in wide arcs as the cultists were systematically slaughtered. The glow very quickly left his Control Orb, and as he helped the disoriented woman to her feet, he muttered, “this is NOT the evil I seek…”
For the next couple days, Quazarec focused on training the kids to fight. They had already accumulated an impressive stash of stolen and makeshift weapons, and Anika and the leaders from other villages had begun planning indirect raids against cult strongholds. Quazarec was troubled by his first encounter with the cultists. He could tell they were tainted with ugly magics, but they were still only humans. Not a shape-shifter among them. There was perhaps the possibility that the object of their devotion was a Slime…but Quazarec didn’t get that impression from their chaotic emotions.
Janisa woke up on her sleeping mat to see Quazarec, as usual, staring out the window, “scanning for threats,” as he would say. As she got up in the dim early morning light, Quazarec revealed to her that he had been having visions of a Slime tyrant of unimaginable power and evil. His most recent vision told him that the being he sought was now actually in Bakurados Bay. Quazarec instructed her to get her sister and gather all the resistance leaders immediately. The little girl usually had a clever retort for his orders, but this time, she sensed Quazarec’s grim urgency and obeyed without question. After explaining the visions to Anika and the others, the kids seemed confused. Anika asked what a Slime had to do with a seemingly human cult. The android confessed he didn’t have an answer to her question, but made his next command crystal clear: they were to make contact as soon as possible with the kids from the other villages and instruct them NOT to pursue any leads whatsoever involving Slimes. The young warriors had to proceed carefully as the shape-shifter Quazarec sought represented a potentially cosmic-level threat. The gathering soon broke up and the kids went their separate ways to execute their mission. Oddly, Quazarec couldn’t find Janisa anywhere afterwards.
While the kids followed their instructions the next day and steered well clear of anything in Bakurados Bay involving Slimes, their raids against the cult became more daring. Their tactics had shifted from gathering intelligence to disrupting supply chains. Vendors, couriers, and other businesses that had been supplying the cult for months were now being robbed, vandalized, or otherwise put out of commission. Meanwhile, back in Janisa’s village, Quazarec continued to prepare for the final confrontation. He would take the fight directly to the cult and lay siege to what the kids had identified as their main stronghold: the former office of Bakurados’ Fish Master in the abandoned fishing district. With any luck, he would learn how the human cowards were connected to the Slime threat.
As night fell, a now-fully-recovered Quazarec was once again practicing with his bladed staff when Janisa finally returned. She told Quazarec that she knew where he could find a mighty Slime prince. All the kids from the city were apparently talking about some newcomer to the Pit–an unstoppable Slime warrior. Just as Quazarec was about to scold the little girl for ignoring his orders, yet another vision penetrated the mystical shroud hanging over the Bay. The same Slime tyrant from his previous visions appeared in some sort of arena, massacring local fighters as the onlookers chanted over and over. Quazarec now had a name for the beast. ALGOR!
Above the near-dawn, empty streets over Bakurados Bay’s fishing sector, a sphere of coruscating light flew overhead in geometrically-precise search patterns. Inside the levitation bubble, the android warrior’s Control Orb flared with the prospect of combat. Despite the mystical interference, the evil he detected was too strong to obscure completely. But Quazarec could vaguely sense that the enemy was on the move again–heading deeper into the abandoned neighborhoods. “Away from innocents…” Quazarec thought to himself. In the early light, his quarry finally came into sight. As Quazarec landed behind Algor, the energy sphere dissipated and he could immediately smell the death and gore on the shape-shifter. The Slime prince was not alone, however. He seemed to be dragging along a female human–apparently a common practice among the magic-wielding despots of this realm. Despite sensing no fear from the woman, Quazarec wasted no time and began powering up his chest emitter. The blast tore through the darkness and slammed into Algor’s back, sending him flying several meters. The woman screamed and ran off with no hesitation. The last thing she heard was the daemon’s voice growling something about “oblivion”.
As she sped back to town–away from the sounds of battle–the woman nearly collided with a curious bright orange metal can with arms and legs bounding along a side street in her direction. Before the odd sight even registered to her, she blurted out, “He’s killing the Slime!!” Toron’s mech suit began running even faster…
Instantly sobered-up from the excruciating pain, Algor stood up and pointed his sword at his attacker. “I don’t know who–or what–you are…but no worlds are burning tonight, buddy. Just you.” The two warriors charged at each other and as their weapons struck one another, a terrible burst of energy threw them both back a few paces. Bright plasma discharge coursed along Quazarec’s staff, while a mysterious black electricity rippled across Algor’s skin and along his sword. “Your words deny your nature and your intent, but it’s clear you threaten all life on Jalldoon.” Preoccupied with the strange, dark power emanating from his body, Algor hesitated. Seeing an opening, Quazarec charged and once again, the two titans traded blows.
At this point, Toron was frantic. He knew he should have stopped the woman to get some sense of where to find Algor. As he rushed through side streets and alleyways, he started hearing the din of battle in the distance, echoing among the derelict buildings. The old Slime headed in the direction of the chaos. Energy blasts, metal clashing against metal, and the roar of two distinct combatants told him that the Magi were not exaggerating about the peril the Prince faced. His grip on the cultist’s sword tightened as he ran.
With his staff floating nearby, Quazarec began quietly chanting in an alien language while moving his hands in an elaborate, flowing manner. The device on the center of his chest armor began to glow, and Algor braced for what he knew was coming. A torrent of plasma erupted from his attacker and engulfed the Slime. Algor knew he couldn’t endure another blast, and yet, he felt no fear. Holding his sword before him, black smoke suddenly began billowing from every inch of his skin. Horrified, the prince nonetheless held his ground as the enchanted smoke seemed to render the alien’s destructive energy harmless. Quazarec seemed drained by the discharge, but was even more shocked that the mortal had survived. “All talk,” Algor muttered to himself as the bloodlust reasserted itself. The prince counterattacked with the unfettered instinct of a predator. Quazarec, comparatively slower, could do little to defend against the Slime’s precise strokes and thrusts. Each movement of Algor’s sword reminded the android of flowing water…of poetry. Quazarec knew what was at stake should he lose this duel, but that tireless determination couldn’t change the fact that he was losing ground.
As Algor pressed his attack, he suddenly became aware that he was grinning. He felt as though he was losing control of his own body and he could only watch as this terrible instinct took over. Fear crept into his mind as more of the sorcerous black electricity pulsed through his body. Despite being physically exhausted, his movements seemed to accelerate, and Algor felt his mind–his very self–giving in to the joy of violence. Here, on the edge of death, he reveled in the combat and with unnatural speed, the prince deftly created an opening in Quazarec’s guard and plunged his sword deep into the beam emitter on the android’s chest armor, destroying the weapon completely.
But Algor was not alone in noticing the awful metamorphosis taking place. Quazarec knew his plasma beam and ancient melee combat arts wouldn’t be enough to stop with this devil. Only by unleashing the power of his Control Orb could he hope to save untold lives…even if it meant succumbing to the telepathic torrent of emotion from his creators. Resolved in his decision, chaotic bolts of greenish-white energy began pouring from the sphere, finally bringing the shape-shifter to his knees. The noxious fumes once again issued from Algor’s skin, but this time, the gusts of smoke were completely overwhelmed by the freed psionic potential. For a moment, Quazarec thought he saw the shape of a garish black skull forming in the mystical miasma over Algor’s head, crying out in agony.
Or was it laughing?
Toron knew he was close. Putting all doubt out of his mind, he prepared himself to do whatever it took to protect his long-time friend. The veteran Slime rounded a corner, then skidded to an abrupt halt. Still holding the bloody cultist sword, he suddenly now faced a gathering of human children. Completely stunned, Toron was speechless. At the head of the group stood a single little girl with her hands on her hips, wearing a stern expression. “Well…this is unexpected…” was all Toron could manage to utter.
Despite being nearly dead, with many ugly, charred gashes along his slimy body, Algor’s body would simply not fall. It in fact lunged forward with unearthly speed. In one blinding stroke, the prince’s sword rocketed upward, taking Quazarec’s hand–and staff–with it before turning around in a high arc and slamming into the opposite side of Quazarec’s head. The staff, hand, and now-dark Control Orb, skittered across the ground…and one of his horns had completely shattered as the android’s helmet was smashed off his head. Algor, barely conscious of his own actions at this point, walked over to Quazarec’s prone form and raised his sword one final time.
Without warning, Quazarec’s intact hand shot out with blinding ferocity and grabbed Algor by the throat. The savagery of the attack took Algor–and that which possessed him–completely off guard. The prince immediately dropped his sword as the shock briefly cleared the evil presence from his consciousness. As Quazarec rose to his full height, he lifted Algor into the air by his neck. His normally featureless eyes were suddenly aflame with ghastly power, and when he spoke, the sound of a billion disembodied voices issued from his mouth. “Miserable wretch. You dare imprison me in this dimension? I will enjoy squeezing the life out of you…”
Algor, choking and sputtering, could barely put up a struggle against the monstrous grip around his throat. His Orb no longer capable of abating the collective rage of his homeworld, Quazarec was beyond reason. As his hold tightened, he suddenly paused. The strangulated gasps from the shape-shifter had changed. Laughter. Quazarec sneered with the impossibility of what he was hearing. The myriad voices spat in unison, “even now, at the precipice of death, you laugh? You have LOST!” Algor’s asphyxiated laughter continued, “I…don’t need…to beat you, pal!”
In an instant, Quazarec’s glowing eyes grew wide as he realized the enormity of his folly. He turned his head just in time to glimpse the diminutive orange construct swinging a heavy, wooden log directly towards his head…
The darkness was interrupted by maddeningly complex bios matrices scrolling across his vision as Quazarec regained consciousness. Laying on his back, he looked up to see the old tree from the cliffs near Janisa’s village. As he sat up, unarmored, he saw Janisa, the strange orange mechanical being, and what appeared to be the Slime Prince’s head resting near the tree, gazing off towards the sea. His staff, which had recouperated enough charge to temper his telepathic link once more, lay on the grass next to him. Janisa immediately ran over and threw her arms around the android. Surprised, all Quazarec could do was return the embrace. “You have a lot to thank this one for,” said the orange creature, motioning towards the human girl. Quazarec’s reply was simple and devoid of irony. “I know.”
As Toron, Janisa, and Quazarec reconciled the events of the previous days, Algor continued to brood silently by the cliff edge, still not recovered enough to assume his heroic form. The sullen prince was deeply troubled by the revelation that he was somehow “infected” by forces beyond his control. Where did his own thoughts and feelings end, and where did this evil possession begin? And how long would it be until he lost control again? The Prince swore to himself that he would do whatever it took to get answers…
“Look, we need heroes like you for the storm that’s coming to Jalldoon,” Toron said to Quazarec after a time. Examining his regenerating hand, Quazarec replied, “I am no hero.” The skeletal techno-organic hand flexed into a fist. “I am no more than a reflection of the power that surrounds me.” The cosmic traveler looked down at Janisa as she smiled back up at him. Toron nodded. “Well, the Children of the Beetle have been mostly wiped out along with their leadership, so I think Bakurados Bay can rest easy for the time being. Will you return with us to Hawkstorm Keep?” the old slime asked. Quazarec reached down to take Janisa’s hand. “The sorcery interfering with my telepathy has also disappeared without a trace, but no, Sir Toron. I need to go back and say goodbye to some people first,” Quazarec replied as the pair began walking towards the village. Sparkles of light appeared around the android’s body like an aura as his armor rematerialized. He paused, turning back to the Slimes, “But you WILL see me again. We have a common foe. And my wrath is not yet satisfied.” With this, Quazarec’s Control Orb once again crackled with power as the adventurers parted ways. For the moment.
So there you have it. A lot of work went into this sale, and it paid off in spades with that GREAT story! We’ll see you in The Store this Thursday 4/6/17 at 12PM EST.