Return To Calibus

*In the dead of night, a man sits under a lonely tree in a plain stretching out to the distant horizons. A small campfire lights his face. Lights his eyes. Warms his set jaw. But he does not know these things. He does not see the campfire or it's light. He does not feel it's warmth. Entirely absorbed in the pain of the heart, he sees only the darkness ahead. The chilling truths of his worse fears.*

*He cannot return home. Already, he has failed.*

(::::}=====> Earlier that week... <====={::::)

Calibus Tower. There it lay, in the distance.  Somehow, the outline was off from this side.  After weeks of traveling on foot, he was finally nearing his destination.

"Still, it's taken me far too long." Stirling said to himself, having no one else to talk to. (except, maybe you!) "even after lightening my load by ditching the unnecessary heavy gear, like my Rank 3 knight's gear, and other such redundant items in the Richardson's bag at the foot of the mountains, I've not been able to march quite so fast as I had ridden before through this tall dry grass." He looked up at the sky, which for today was clear. "Maybe I'll come back for that cache later. It will wait, nice and safe, buried. But for now, I just need to talk to Austin. And Perry."

(::::}=====>

A few short day's later, Stirling entered the fringes of the forest that Calibus was located in.  At first, Stirling was too relieved for the shade to notice but eventually...

He saw the signs.

Signs of strife. Of a scuffle. Of a knife. Of a sword.

Of a gun.

Of a Wormholer.

Of a missile.

There were no words for the emotions that cascaded upon Stirling as each sign told him a part of a terrible sonnet.  A loathsome Raid.  A raid, which would go down in the history books, as a sign of thedude's ultimate foreknowledge. His supreme Omniscience.

The **Raid Of Calibus Tower**.

Each piece of evidence spurred him, *pulled* him, YANKED him forward, and filled him with icy endurance that nearly froze his heart with fear.

Tripping in a pothole, Stirling stumbled to the gate. Reaching out to the perfectly intact closed doors, he leaned on it to steady, but stumbled yet again, as it did not support his weight. Instead, it swung open, popping off it's hinges at it's furthest angle, landing on the ground with a crash.

Calibus was beautiful no more. The Tower itself had some defacing, but it was largely intact, standing forlornly amidst something Stirling had seen quite often.

Battlegrounds.

The Garden's lovely hedges had been transformed into concrete bunkers or burnt patches.  The terraced mounts of dirt had disappeared, and as Stirling looked to the left, he saw where it had all gone. The ground was slightly higher, but Stirling knew that had been where the tunnel was.

"Hold it right there." Said a voice to Stirling's right.

Stirling did not. He spun around, and with a fluid motion, he unsheathed his Katana and used the Imagination-enhanced blocking feature it had. A Rouge's shot from his blaster was absorbed, and Stirling held his pose. The Rogue was not wearing a helmet. Indeed, he was wearing rather casual clothes, and the blaster was the only thing 'Rogue' about him. But Stirling noted he had still fired a shot, so that made him untrustworthy.

The rouge smiled and waved his Missile Launcher in the other hand.

"I'm taking you in, buddy. Ambassador Riga will want to talk to you."

"What makes you think I'll come peacefully?" asked Stirling in an even voice. He suddenly wished he hadn't left his shield. Something was not right. Other than the destruction around him, there was an ulterior motive... And he had to know the truth.

"Then I'm suppose to convince you," the rogue replied, casually waving both weapons a bit in a relaxed shrug. "For example, not everyone smashed."

"How short is the list?" snarked Stirling, finding bad news to quell the sudden need to leap for joy.

"Well, alot more people would have lived, but they just wouldn't quit, ya'know, so my buds had to gun 'em. Us or them, you get the idea, right warrior?"

"You disgust me."

"Hey, try to get me here."

"I don't need to *'get*' you at all. Do you have names?"

"No, but my boss will. You wanna talk to him?"

"I'd love to, but how do I know you, or your buds won't shoot me?"

"Ah, see that's what's great about this." Clarified the rogue. He holstered his blaster, and strapped the missile-launcher to his back.  "We're here to get information, just like you. My boss, Ambassador Riga Maroll, he has a different approach to stuff like this." He continued, as he began walking towards the tower. Stirling did not immediately follow, but listened. "He wants to learn what you resistance types want. See if he can accommodate you. Often there's a compromise he can reach. Alot of people misunderstand thedude, with all the propaganda you get nowadays. Media. Now, here, Ambassador Ri-" The rogue stopped and turned around, his hands landing on his hips.

"Come on! I've got to take you in either way. We can make this hard, and cause even more destruction to the place, with you fighting almost.... Well, with you being outgunned, or you can come and learn from my boss."

Stirling relaxed his deflection shield. Hastily, he reasoned the dilemma out. *"Well, if I leave now, they'll come after me. If I stay now, I won't be able to leave, most likely. But if I leave now, where do I go? I don't know what's happened here. Where's Perry, Austin, Lady Charlotte, all the others? They might be here! I have to rescue them."*

With his hasty thoughts finished, Stirling looked up at the waiting rogue.

"All right. I'll come peacefully. But armed."

The rogue's face lit up and went dark at Stirling's remark.  "Fine! Be that way," he said haughtily. "'s'pose it's the best you can do."

Stirling advanced, sheathing his sword loosely at his side, and adjusting his Samurai bow on his back.

The two walked around the pockmarked circular driveway, with the Rogue leading the way.

Along the way, Stirling noticed other rouges lightly dressed doing other tasks.  Most wore casual clothes like the one leading him, some wore the under-armor of their Paradox gear, but very few seemed actually ready for battle.  Many of them seemed utterly bored. And only a few had their weapons in sight.

As they entered the keep, it became apparent that some of the rogues were... cleaning???

"Why are they cleaning?" asked Stirling.

"Not just cleaning," replied the rogue. "Rebuilding as well! This is a fabulous building, and it was a shame that it had to be a bit roughed up. But thedude is a conquerer, not a dictator. He can appreciate beauty, and Riga intends to offer this lovely estate to thedude once it is in working order again!"

"You're not a regular rogue."

"Ambassador Riga is not a regular man, and he works for a really irregular king!" excused the rogue. "So yeah, he needed irregular soldiers. Also, not everyone's a fighter or a lover. We've got alot of regular architects here. Some historians too. When they get through with all this, it's our hope that it'll be like nothing ever happened!" the man explained happily. "We're not *all* your enemy." he added softly.

Having reached the correct flight of stairs, the rogue veered off to a wooden door. He knocked and spoke loudly.

"Ambassador? I have someone you may be interested in meeting!"

A jovial voice echoed back. "And who might that be?"

The rogue turned to look back at Stirling. Stirling crossed his arms and refused to give a name.

The rogue sighed and let his head droop in mock exasperation. "Uhh, he seems to have a connection with the previous owners of the place. But he's understandably disgruntled."

"Oh, well bring him in, bring him in!"

The rogue nodded, and opened the door, motioning Stirling in.

The fully armored Stirling strode into the room. Stirling hadn't been in this place when he had been here before, but the signs of battle were only half cleared from here. One side of the room was expertly renovated, but the other half, with a blown out window, chipped stonework, and broken-up flooring, had yet to match the side that Stirling was standing on.

Also in the room was two other minifigs. One was large and portly, and Stirling instantly matched this man's build with the voice he had heard. *'This must be Ambassador Riga Maroll.'* The other one was obviously some assistant. The two were studying something embedded in the wall, but they both turned to note Stirling and the rogue coming in.

The Ambassador spoke first. "Greetings, greetings! I do hope you were not roughly handled?"

"I take it you're Abassador Riga Maroll?"

"Yes, yes I am. Your sources are correct." piped up the man, turning full around. "But I'm afraid you have me at a disadvantage now, because I don't know yours!" he said congenially, with a smile as chubby and sweet as a teddy bear.

Stirling raised an eyebrow. "I'll keep my name to myself until I'm sure of your intentions." He said, matter-of-fact.

Riga's countenance shrunk back with a hurt expression. "That bad, my friend?"

"Worse."

"Well I intend to fix that," he said, sweeping his upturned hands in front of him. "Tell me how I can help."

"Do you have a list of casualties?"

"Ours, or theirs?" he asked, pulling out a BrickPad from his voluminous vest.

"Theirs."

"Well, it's incomplete because, to be honest, quite a few escaped, but if you don't see who you're looking for, would you do me the courtesy of adding it to the 'unknown' listing there?" he explained, as he handed the BrickPad to Stirling.

Stirling ignored the question, and instead began skimming the list. He found Lady Charlotte, with the status of 'Captured' as well as someone fitting the description of Peragrine also 'Captured', but no information on where they were sent. What was most shocking though, was that he found himself on the list, as 'Smashed'. It only took a moment to figure out what had really happened.

*"Austin. Even in your smashing you've protected me!"*

Whoever that mysterious agent that was hunting him was had apparently mistaken Austin for Stirling...

Handing the Pad back to Ambassador Maroll, he asked, "What have you done with the bodies?"

The three others selectively stared at the floor, winced, or sighed regretfully.

"Unfortunately, the army took care of that their way before we got here. They burned them altogether in the tunnel, then collapsed it." The Ambassador told Stirling. "I'm very sorry. Were you close to any of them?"

Stirling closed his eyes. "One of them was my brother whom I hadn't seen in decades until just a few weeks ago. Now I'll never see him again."

"Oh pipsqueak." Muttered Riga. The assistant made a small gasp and covered his mouth with a hand.

Stirling looked back up. "What about gear? I assume the army-"

"Yes, they looted the place bare."

"Do you know where they took prisoners?"

"I'm afraid that is one of the few things I cannot tell you, even if I knew."

"I see. Well. I appreciate your civility, Ambassador Riga Maroll. I'd say you were working for the wrong side, but I know that wouldn't change your mind."

"You are co-"

Right then, another person burst through the door behind Stirling and the first rogue.

"AMBASSADOR! IT'S LEIUTENANT BASIL!"

"Goodness! Calm down, what does he want?"

"I don't know, but he's coming up to talk directly to you now!"

Stirling spoke up. "I don't think I should be here..?"

Ambassador Maroll nodded and shook a finger at Stirling. "Indeed. Then it's a good thing we haven't gotten around to taking this rope of this windowsill. Down you go!  "

Stirling nodded and smiled tightly in appreciation, and swung out the window, going only so far down. He still wanted to hear what was going to be said.

Not a moment later, the sounds of militant boots echoed into the room.

"Basil! How are you?"

"I'm fine, Ambassador. I have news for you."

"Would you like something to freshen up? Perhaps a good meal?"

"No, I ride faster on an empty stomach. King thedude wants this to be turned into a silo."

"A...Pardon?"

"He has the schematics here. Be sure to let all of your builders and construction workers know as soon as possible. Here are some copies, as well as some more detailed layouts for the more intricate parts."

"This doesn't look like a silo to me, Leiutentant..."

"Ah, no, not like a farm silo. A rocket silo. I never seem to know if I'm talking to space-age or stone-age people anymore, the lines are so blurred. Parts will be coming within the week by BarneyBot fleets, as well as the heavier tools you're going to need. Any questions, Ambassador?"

"I... Um... Well, did-"

"Good! Now, I have to ride off to my next destination. Long live King thedude!"

The marching faded into the distance.

Stirling took this moment to slide the rest of the way down. He had found out what he needed and a bit more. After a moment, a small contingent of horsemen rode out the main gate. Shortly after, Stirling followed. To his pleasant surprise, none of the workers around him stopped him. Taking one final glance at Calibus Tower, he noted that as defaced as it was now, it would never be the same again...

*"A Rocket Silo?"*

Once again, going somewhere for answers, he arrived only too late to find anything but more questions.

*"Perry, where are you?"*

But most importantly, he had failed the mission he had set before himself at the beginning of this quest. To reunite his family.

*"I will miss you Austin. I'm glad that fate allowed me to see you, even just briefly, before you left this dreary plane of existence. . . At this rate, it won't be long before I see you again. But first..."*

  Stirling began running. Running down the road. As he did, a song came to mind. Something Peragrine would sing.

"*The Road goes ever on and on,*

 *Down from the door where it began.*

 *Now far ahead the Road has gone,*

 *And I must follow, if I can,*

 *Pursuing it with eager feet,*

 *Until it joins some larger way,*

 *Where many paths and errands meet.*

 *And whither then? I cannot say."*

End.