Groo and Rufferto have been wandering for a long, long time, and have travelled far, far away. But, unknown to them, they have not been alone.
* * * * *
Pal looked out from inside the cave at the warriors amassing near the dock, hiding behind trees as best they could. He could see the large ship approaching, and knew the warriors didn't stand a chance.
"Shouldn't we be helping them," Drumm asked.
The last place Pal wanted to be was anywhere near the line of fire. "We have our own mission," he said, trying to think of one, "something even more important."
Drumm seemed to accept that.
The large ship docked, and almost immediately hundreds of soldiers came out of it, crossbows and swords at the ready. The warriors behind the trees fought back, but they were woefully outnumbered. From within the depths of the ship, among the soldiers coming out of it, a tall, dark figure started to emerge.
"Find her!" he shouted, his voice deep and commanding. "I want those plans, and I want her found. Alive!"
Drumm was intent on the scene at the dock, but Pal's gaze was intent elsewhere. "Ah, there we go," he said, and quickly exited the cave, heading deep into the woods.
"Pal?" Drumm quickly followed his friend, right through the battle itself, narrowly dodging darting arrows all around.
* * * * *
The town Groo and Rufferto found themselves in didn't look very familiar to Rufferto. Between that, and the fact that it was still standing, he was sure Groo hadn't been here before.
No sooner had they entered the town square when two men in white law enforcement uniforms stopped Groo.
"Stop in the name of the Emperor!" One said.
"Let me see your identification." said the other.
Groo looked blankly at them in return. "Identification?" he asked, as he took his swords out of his scabbard. "What is that?"
One of the white figures stared at the swords, and the look in Groo's eyes, and then looked at his companion. "w-we don't need to see his identification."
"Yeah, th-this is not the mendicant we are looking for," the other said.
"Move along, move along," said the first one, and both quickly left Groo alone.
* * * * *
Drumm lost Pal in the deep forest. The trees were so thick they obscured the sun overhead, making shadows everywhere. Suddenly, ahead of him a bit, he thought he heard voices.
It was dark, and hard to see, but he saw a short, squat figure he was fairly certain was Pal with a tall, female figure. He couldn't quite make out any details, other than something round on either side of her head.
Chakaal? he thought.
The female figure handed something to the short one, and then quickly sped off even further into the forest. Drumm came closer, finding Pal looking quite smug.
"Pal," Drumm asked, "Was that..."
But Pal didn't listen, and quickly followed a path out of the forest. Drumm tried to ask where he was going, but when no answer came, he just followed.
* * * * *
"I don't know about this," Rufferto thought as he saw the tavern Groo was about to enter, "but if anyone can handle himself in this wretched hive of scum and villainy, it's Groo!"
As soon as they entered the inn, the man behind the bar looked directly at Rufferto with scorn and said "We don't serve his kind here."
"What kind"? Groo asked.
"Him. Dogs. We don't serve dogs here." He spit into a tankard and cleaned it with a rag dirtier than the tankard itself was.
"You don't serve dogs?" Groo asked. "That's good, I wasn't going to order one. I already have one."
The innkeeper shrugged, figuring it wasn't worth the effort. He filled the tankard and handed it to Groo, who looked around at the strange inn, and the strange people within it. Some looked like none he had ever seen before. He was especially curious about the strange looking blue people making music in the corner.
Near the back of the tavern, a figure in a tattered uniform and horned helmet with one horn cut off slipped in a back entrance, and clung to the shadows. He started to move toward Groo, but was halted by a green figure pointing a strange looking but vaguely threatening object at him. He spoke, but the other man couldn't understand a word he said.
"I think you have the wrong party," he said. The green figure looked over to a nearby table where a roguish man sat with a tall, furry creature. He spoke some more gibberish that was probably an apology, and moved on to the next table.
"Groo, my friend!" the man said as he approached Groo.
"Taranto!" Groo replied. "Wait, didn't you try to kill me? Or did I try to kill you? Or, wait..."
"No, Groo," he said, laughing heartily. "Here, let me buy you another drink, we can discuss old times." He rattled a pouch, flush with kopins.
* * * * *
Hours later, Groo left the tavern with Taranto, both walking erratically, bumping into buildings, and almost falling into an irrigation ditch. Rufferto followed a little unsteadily himself...when the bartender hadn't been looking, both Groo and Taranto had slipped him a little drink or two under the table.
"Tarren...Terra...Trenton," Groo slurred, "why we alwaysh -- hic! -- why d'we allays try to kill eash udder?"
"I've never tried to kill you, Groo. You're my friend!" Taranto's voice didn't seem to slur. But Groo didn't notice.
"No, you my fren...my fred...my fiend!"
Groo tried to hug Taranto, but fell into the irrigation ditch instead.
Rufferto staggered behind, his vision blurry. He thought for a second he saw Taranto cut Groo with his own swords, and collect the blood in a cup.
No, Rufferto thought, Groo would never allow him to do that!
* * * * *
"Are you sure about this," Taranto said as he watched the magician work on his potion. He was in a room deep within the Emperor's castle, but he wished he was far, far away from the town, and from Groo. Soon, with the payment he'd be receiving, he would be.
"Yes," said Grativo, an evil grin on his face. "Groo may be an inept mendicant, but no finer warrior exists, his skills with swords are unmatched.
"So is his skill at carnage and destruction."
"Ah, that's the beauty of this plan." He eyed the ingredients before him. A fish, still alive, flopped about on the bench.
"Brain food." He said as he lifted the fish, and put it into the brew. The potion bubbled, the smell incredible. It filled the small cabin.
He then took the cup filled with blood, and poured it in. The potion bubbled and roiled more...but, strangely, considering the source of the blood, it started to smell a lot better.
"Now," Grativo said, lifting a ladle from the cauldron, "observe."
"Guards!" he called out, and a couple of guards entered the room. He had poured a small amount of potion into two tankards, and handed one each to the guards. "A refreshing drink, thanks for all your diligence guarding my workshop."
"Thanks!" the guards said, and drank up.
"That wasn't bad," one started to say. Then, with a large POP, his nose grew a lot larger, and even more bulbous. His companion looked at him, was about to laugh, when his own body grew fatter, as his legs grew skinnier.
Soon, two Groos stood before Grativo and Taranto. Well, not exactly Groo, thought Taranto. That vacant look in the eyes wasn't quite right....
"Now," said Grativo, as he poured the rest of the potion into tankards, "let's see the rest of the Emperor's Army."
* * * * *
Groo awoke, and peered around the small hut. "Where?" he started to ask, then he realized that he had a lot of other questions to ask before "where." "Who" was a good one to start with. Who am I, he wondered. His name seemed to escape him.
Before he could figure it out, an old man in a tattered brown robe came from the next room. "Ah, I see we're awake. Good."
"I have a headache," Groo said, "like when I try to think too much. At least, I think it's like that."
"My friend, don't worry about that. Now, I have a present for you."
"You do? I didn't bring you anything. At least, I don't think I did. I can't remember..."
The old man opened a chest, and took out a pair of sharp katanas. He stared at them, they did look familiar.
"Now, these swords belonged to your father," the old man said, "he asked me to hold onto them, until you came for them."
"He did?"
"Yes, he was a rebel just like you. He also wanted to fight the Empire, to depose the Emperor, just like you."
"I do?"
"Yes. Don't you remember who you are?"
"Um, no."
"You are Grook Skywalker, and you are the rebellion's best hope to fight the Emperor!"
"I am?"
"Yes," said the old man, a mad gleam in his eye. "And together, we can destroy the Empire!"
Next up:
Chapter Two: The Faintin' Menace
by Janet Harriett (aka MisterElie's Mrs. Elie)
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