It was the warmth in the wind that I remember. It was the humidity, that taste of salt in the air, wrapped around you at the shore of the open sea…

“Locke, pull the fucking bucket up already dipshit.” Tye complained, waist deep in the river bank. The water has some force to it. A current unleashed flowing into the estuary. The cove. Mixing a bit beyond the shore you could see the water color change and thus perceive the change from salt to brackish to fresh.  Fresh being the source from which they pull. 

Tye had thrown the bucket into the river for some unknown reason of insightful brilliance or dumbfounded madness. One did not know which it was till fate had made with it what it would. As always, from the Lancaster line, they served at Fate’s banquet only the most fresh of opportunities. Only the most raw of realities. Alive, raw, cooked or dead and rotting… 

“I don’t recall throwing the bucket in.” Locke replies flatly.

“Yeah, well I Fucking hate cold water and I refuse to go any further. You remember what happened  outside Queensland?” Tye replies, turning a shade paler. 

“Brackish waters, green skin, armored claws and jaws… tick tock tick tock.” Locke chants to both himself and Tye. 

“I Fucking hate Crocodiles!” Tye screams.

“Yeah, well, tick tock Captain.” Locke replies bemused as he grasps out for the bucket floating within inches of his finger tips. “I think… I… got it.. there.”

“It’s not my fault the knot came undone. Who taught Corin how to tie?” Tye complains. 

“Nobody, obviously…” Locke responds. 

“I said I’m sorry already, gosh!” Corin shouts out from the bank. Holding onto a rope that’s tied to Tye’s waist. “Just grab the bucket and get out of there before anything weird can happen.”

“Oh, before anything weird can happen!?” Tye screams back incredulously.  “How much weirder could anything possibly get. I’ve got tits the size of Gwen’s and I’m pretty sure Locke has been eye fucking me since I woke up this morning.”

“What?! No, never!” Locke screams, almost tossing the bucket further into the estuary and away from them. “I mean, yeah right. Shut up and pull me in dude.”

“You’re such a fuckin’ weirdo.” Tye replies. 

Brent and Nora watch in silence at the shore as the three bring themselves back to the group. Bucket in hand. 

“Have we learned a lesson then?” Locke asks aloud. 

“Yeah, Corin doesn’t know how to tie a knot. Don’t ask her to do it. It won’t work.” Tye interjects. 

“Dude you just threw it before I could finish. It’s not a race. I don’t know why you’re in such a rush.” Corin complains back. 

“We need to get out of here. I need to get to my classes. You know they begin tomorrow right? You wanna miss your first day in some alternate universe? Gonna drop out immediately right?” Tye replies. 

“You’re still thinking about college right now?” Corin replies.

“Well of course I am. We gotta balance everything and get things done. I don’t care what’s going on. I've got plans and ideations and they’re gonna happen because I’m gonna make it happen.” Tye says as he begins to beat his chest. “I am. I am. I am.”

“Alright. Alright. I get it. Calm down. We got the brackish water you needed Nora. Can we go?” Corin calls out..

“Yes, that should be perfect. The matriarch needs that color of water to work her potions. It's the best substance to work her brew within.” Nora calls out from the shore. Oddly enough the water here has shades that are highly defined. Lighter to brackish. In zones.

“So before you all scooped your way into it huh? Like it just stayed put like it was frozen?.” Corin asks in amazement.

“Yes, the water was frozen but not... Now it acts normally. It’s strange I hardly remember it acting any other way. It almost seems to be acting abnormally now. Spilling into itself as it does.” Nora replies. “This colored water. It's the perfect base for her potions. We’d tunneled out a path before scooping to this point. Now that it’s filled in. With the current. All these things and words. Theory till now. I feel like I’m suddenly more alive than I’ve ever been.”

00ooooooooooooooo

“Well, they didn’t get swept out into the sea.” The elder said looking upon them to the man at her side. “So they're not completely incompetent.”

“Not completely.” He affirms. His manner is resolute and stout. The Lord of this estate if you would. As Nora the summoner is the highest ranking royal and by birth this is her lot; this old man is the eldest and wisest. The iron from which the sword is smelt. “It troubles me that they are sentient. That they understand us so thoroughly. I met Lady Nebula’s summons before it happened. They were animals. Guttural and moved via emotion. Instinctive. This is so much different.”

“I agree, it is dangerous what she is doing is working power that’s not controllable. They’ve been here not a day and so much has changed by their presence. I know power when it’s overwhelming. When the demon came upon us with it. This is different but yet a different shade. We have to be careful.” The elderly lady replies.

“It is a reprieve at the very least.” The older man continues. “The goblin thinks to send our warriors to the goddess’ side for conquest. Some great battle she imagines no doubt. Goblins. So confrontational.” He spits. 

“”And into more... That bridge. The fallen. They’re not something to be confronted lightly.”

“So we need them to be powerful.”

“We need them to be obnoxiously so. Or we’ll lose what little we have left.” The elder finishes. He turns to Palius who’s been watching without response.  “She is your pupil, what do you think are the odds?”

“Lord Bracken, it is my thoughts that we must trust her intuition. For now. Till we can make our way and control it ourselves.” Palius replies. 

“She has not given them her full name as of yet has she?” Lord Bracken inquires.

“She’s successfully used a buffer. There is space between her and them and thus them and us. We can avoid the complications that befell our First Lady if we follow through.” Palius says with confidence.

“It’s important that they do not learn her full name. There is power in it and she will lose control like the first did if she becomes too comfortable. Always remind her of this. Palius. It’s of the utmost importance.”

“I’ve schooled her time and again. Drilled it into her memory. She knows it to her core. We can trust she will not slip up. I am only worried about their propensity for war making. Since that seems to be what is to come.” Palius replies. 

The trio look from their post on the wall overlooking the bay from the Nebula estate at the summoner and her human companions. Thrashing about in the water retrieving an errant bucket. Speaking a strange language they can only understand when close enough to Nora that her magic allows it to translate. It sounds childish to their ears. Weak. As if it was a song and not said. Screamed and not howled. 

“They look as if they were of elder Moria except their ears are short and they are stouter and more brutish. More clumsy in their ways. Their garb is foreign and strange. When the magic translates their words it’s confusing the concoction they speak with. A strange perspective.” The lady admonishes looking upon them. “They smell funny and they don’t seem to smell it themselves. They aren’t fast nor strong nor look it, either. I wonder if she failed in the end anyway.”

“Nora says they’ve done battle with a goblin horde on the way here. Fended them off with the aid of Farelis.” Palius adds in.  

“Yes, with the aid of Farelis. But what of them?” The lady replies. 

“A test then?” Palius inquires. “Of their propensity? Should I insist upon tonight?” 

“More information. As much as you can. We must know them completely if we are to be their masters.” Lord Bracken states. 

0000ooooooooooooo

“You know I’m actually starting to shake a little.” Tye complains. Innocently enough. They’d been trudging back to the bank of the estuary waist deep. 

Everyone save Nora turns a shade of blue and freezes. Nora can feel their energy. Their focus and intensity increase exponentially. What they can’t communicate verbally she can feel intuitively from their connection. Something has been sensed. Something is amiss…

The silence of running estuaries clashing brackish water and waves. Waist deep. 

Brent is the first to realize what’s happening and be damned for his muted speech. He couldn’t say a word if he wanted to for it was so out of reach. Giant by stature and standing at the bank as an anchor he’s been overwatch of this operation. If he hadn’t been to Burma, the Queensland, to the Nile, in the depths of the Amazon and back again by the adventures of Money Lancaster. He might not have held the proper respect for water and the secrets it could hold. 

The eyes are what caught his own. And followed them he did as they fell upon Locke and Tye. Slow and steady. Powerful and ready. A giant, white, clad in armor back crocodile Jack. 30 feet at least. Hungry is a language spoken by eyes and one can see its words while traveling about the lost lands of untamed continents. What was a mission to fetch a bucket had now turned into him drawing a line into the water with meat on the end tied to him. 

“No” Brent yelled and it echoed like a foghorn. Low and long and domineering. As loud as the thuds his giant feet made as his legs carried him towards the creature. Brent stands nine feet tall at this exact moment. His growth had not stopped since he’d been plucked to this world. His companions were aware yet unaware because it seemed as if a frog in a pot brought to boil. But now, in this moment, this giant of a man wade through water towards Lancaster progenie and Locke Clovis. 

One. Two. Three steps. 

Crouch and lurch and launched in air and with the fire of hell from his belly Brent let out a scream of war that echoed upon rock and stone in that place enough to freeze the crocodile in place before it could consume one Tye Lancaster. 

Fell upon it, he did, as if Boulder were crashing from a mountain top. The beast lurched from the water and back again as the tussle bore out in full. The might of these Goliaths would not be muted.

“Holy shit!” Tye screams as he races away from the lurching crocodile and goliath foray..

“Brent!” Corin screams with terror.

Locke engages himself to the moment. Reaching for whatever in hand he has to aid. 

“Ahhhhhhh!!!” Brent wails as he rolls in and out of the water with the crocodile. His strength is unyielding and up to the challenge. The claws of this beast rips into his flesh and its teeth attempt to latch onto errant arm or leg. But Brent is large and determined and hugs the creature and the water is only mid calf for him.

“Gun! Gun!” Tye screams. 

“We don’t have a gun!” Corin replies.

“Shoot it!” Tye crows.

The beast is powerful but Brent is power and a giant and he uses all of his mass to set upon it. The thing attempts to roll in its death spiral to slip his grip and snap an attack but Brent is strong and true. He knows if he should let loose it is all over. So he will not let go of this full Nelson. 

“Sword! Guard! To arms!” The captain calls out. As the Olcan clan guard and retinue lingering about rush into the fold. Wading their way into the sea unsheathed swords in hand.

“Throw me your sword!” Locke demands, to none other than Captain Black. Who without hesitation throws it to him.. 

“Give me one too!” Tye screams, collecting himself once more. “That motherfucker isn’t gonna take my friend!” 

But his request isn’t as instantly answered. 

Locke wades his way into the thrashing and rolling wrestling match. Brent is screaming in a Neanderthal manner. Guttural and primordial. Rage filled howls. It sets Locke’s blood ablaze. His mind is racing as his eyes scan the splashing waters for an opening to lance his sword into the beast. 

The two fall into the water for a moment and all is silent. All is calm and nobody moves. For a moment fate has everyone frozen. 

With a crash Brent breaks the surface Crocodile still in hand. Lifting the creature up with himself to full stature. 

“Now!” Black, captain of the guard, cries out. Locke throws himself into the thrust and into the belly of this white scaled beast. As it goes limp in the arms of the giant who holds it. Everyone stares in silence as Brent lets the crocodile slither lifelessly back into the water. He is covered in blood and scratches but he is unbeaten. 

“Rahhhhhhhh!!!!!” He screams.

Obstacle 26. Sword