Fortnightly Writing Competition - Fanfiction **WINNNER**

[Ponch]

Everyone knows that E. L. James became famous when she adapted her poorly written Twilight fan-fiction into a best-selling poorly-written novel. So here's your chance to take your first step on the Road To Riches^TM with your own shoddily-crafted tale of AGS fanfic!

Choose a character or two from your favorite AGS game (or more -- mashups area allowed) and "craft" a piece of fiction around them. Funny, sexy, sad, or informative -- the style and tone are yours to choose. But it must be set in the world of an AGS game and/or star an AGS player character or NPC. But please remember that this is a family friendly forum, so don't get all creepy and explicit like inexplicably best-selling author E. L. James did. Keep it clean, people.

The competition runs from February 6th through the 19th. Voting will occur from the 20th to the 22nd. Trophies will be awarded once the winners have been determined.

Let the magic commence! 


Larry Vales is (c) Phil Reed. Elodie Major is (c) Ben Chandler. They are used here only for educational purposes.

[Ghost]

But... Ben would only use THREE shades of blue!
Will try to enter this one. Let's see if these fingers have some words left.

[Ponch]

Will try to enter this one. Let's see if these fingers have some words left.

Excellent. I expect a good story from you, Ghost, one filled with umlauts and smelling faintly of knockwurst and/or sauerkraut. 

[WHAM]

My first thought was to use this as a chance to write up a small narrative addition to one of my own games, but I felt like that might be considered cheating.
So instead I turn my gaze at some of my favourite games, instead, and the challenge becomes picking just one. RAM Ghost? Technobabylon? Chance of the Dead? Indiana Rodent? One of the Trilby games? Falling Skywards? Something else?

I'll need to do some thinking...

[CaptainD]

I think writing about your own characters would be a bit against the spirit of this theme (not a criticism of you Tomi, just that I had the same thought about writing a story with Captain Disaster or Clod from Troll Song etc in it!).  I guess cameo appearances by our own characters would be okay though?

I'm seeing a lot of potential with RON characters, but I might try to find something a little less obvious...

[Stupot]

This could be a good chance to expand on one of the many small worlds created by 304.  Though I'd hate to butcher his visions with some poorly-written drivel... I'll think of something.

[Ponch]

This could be a good chance to expand on one of the many small worlds created by 304.  Though I'd hate to butcher his visions with some poorly-written drivel... I'll think of something.

Have you seen the picture at the top of this thread. His visions have already been butchered. No reason to hold back now, Stu. 

And while writing about your own characters isn't exactly what I had in mind, I don't see any reason why you couldn't, I suppose. Doesn't really seem like fanfic, though.  Maybe if you did what Cap'nD suggested and use them as a cameo in a larger story?

The fact is, I didn't rule it out in the first post so the door is open for you to write fanfic about your characters, I guess. Stephenie Meyer got away with it. Heck, Stephen King wrote himself into a story (and pooped all over what had been my favorite series in the process). 

[Ghost]

I'll need to do some thinking...

I'd love to see Janet in a story of yours. Hey, everything's deader with zombies and deader rhymes with better and is just one letter away from butter. Don't you feel lubricated already? 

[Baron]

...your own shoddily-crafted tale of AGS fanfic!

Sorry, just to be clear...  ...my AGS fanfic must be shoddily crafted to qualify as a submission?

[Ponch]

...your own shoddily-crafted tale of AGS fanfic!

Sorry, just to be clear...  ...my AGS fanfic must be shoddily crafted to qualify as a submission?

Normally I would say no, but since it's you we're talking about, the answer seems obvious. 

[WHAM]

I'd love to see Janet in a story of yours. Hey, everything's deader with zombies and deader rhymes with better and is just one letter away from butter. Don't you feel lubricated already? 

Janet's story was resolved, I don't think there's anything to do with her anymore, but I do have something else in mind. I might write up a short sketch today and see how it feels.

[WHAM]

Second Escape - A Chance of the Dead Fanfiction


The Unfinished Business Departedment was, despite all the puns involved in it's everyday existence, a dead place to work in. When Ted had been given the chance to resolve his unfinished business via a contract with the Departedment, he had been overjoyed, despite the shock of his recent departure of the mortal realm. Now, just a few short years later, the routine had kicked in. Go to work, receive the day's (or night's) file or files, take the fourteen-line tram to the mortal realm and raise the recently dead so they can resolve their issues and move on. Nothing as exciting as resolving that long-overdue Burdie case that had been his first, but instead mostly bringing back those that lie comatose in hospitals, merely dead by technicality, or visiting the morgues to allow the recently dead to make good on promises they themselves had often forgotten about. Dull, menial job, if there ever was one.

“Hey Ted, catch!”

Before poor Ted could turn his bald bespectacled semi-transparent head to face the source of the voice, a heavy semi corporeal folder landed square on his head, bursting open and releasing the stack of semi-transparent papers within. Ted scrambled to stand up from his office-chair, but merely managed to topple it over, leaving him hovering inches off the dusty floor of his cubicle as the papers slowly rained over him.

“Ack- Joe! Do you mind?” -Ted burst out, frustration evident in his voice.

“Sorry, Ted. Didn't think the straps were so loose.” -came the response, as Joe in the other cubicle was barely able to keep himself from bursting out laughing. Ted slowly righted his incorporeal body and began to pick up the loose papers and to reorganize them in the folder that now lay on his messed-up desk. Glancing over the papers, it looked to Ted like this would be a short day. Praise the Powers that be for small mercies.

A few moments after the incident, Ted had packed up his files, folders and neatly organized collection of incorporeal ballpoint-pens, into his suitcase. He adjusted his necktie, brushed off his coat and soundlessly floated out of his cubicle and, eventually, out of the building. As the doors slammed shut behind him, he thought he could hear Joe making some witty comments about their work-life balance and upcoming development discussions feedback reports to one of the other lost souls working at the departedment. As he floated out towards the tram station, allowing the current of souls wandering the streets of the otherworld to steer him to his destination, Ted let out a little sigh. He wasn't sure why, but it might have been relief. He always felt nostalgic when entering the mortal realm.

---

Nicholas “Nick” Holmberg had breathed his last just a few hours ago. The sounds of the world, the distant wail of sirens and the shouts and screams he barely recalled seemed so distant now, as if they had happened to someone else, as if he had been a mere observer. Relieved of his mortal coil and the pains, ailments and bodily functions, his mind had had those few hours, the first ones of a long eternity that awaited him, to ponder on his past life. Yet, the recollections did not come clearly, but instead appeared as confused bursts, split-second fragments of his life, and that of someone else.

Nick was sure he was dead, no way around it. He'd never thought much about death when he was alive, though. Why bother with it? Live in the moment, that's what his dad had always told him when he had been alive. Now that he thought about it more, Nick didn't even remember how he had died, only that the sensation had been unpleasant. If he'd been religious, would he be at the pearly gates now, or did this same black nothingness await all?

As he lay there, in the silence and darkness he had been confined to, a voice came through to him. It had no echo, no depth and it seemed to be coming from a great distance away; the tinny voice of an office worker.

“By the powers that be...”

Had they brought in a priest to bless him? Nick thought it odd, considering he was not part of any church or religious organization. Then again, considering the fact that he hadn't heard a single sound in hours, this seemed like a welcome change to him. Nick listened intently as the voice rose gently to deliver one more word, that somehow seemed to be addressed directly to him.

“Rise!”

A flash of white light out of nowhere, a burning sensation in his eyes, his whole body, that jolted his muscles and organs into action. The numbness and nothingness faded away, replaced by a new sensation, that of pain and sensory input: smell of metal and blood, taste of copper and bile, a cool metal surface upon which he lay. Nick spasmed, his arm thrashed once, then twice, then relaxed as his body came to be alive once more. He crossed his arms over his chest and tried to draw breath to calm himself down, but the breath would not come. In a second he realized he didn't need to breathe.

“Oh come on now, Mr Holmberg, time is short and I'm sure you, like myself, have things to attend to.”

The metal slab slid open and the zipper of the body bag broke open. The cool fluorescent light hurt Nick's eyes and the air smelled of disinfectant and decay. A bald bespectacled figure, barely visible as the bright light filtered through it's form, hovered over Nick's head.

“Mr Holmberg, my name is Ted, of the Unfinished Business Departedment...”

---

Frank White, a white middle-aged man in a one-size-too-large spare police uniform, was sitting in his patrol car, observing the unfortunate individuals that roamed the streets of his hometown in the night. Drifters, alcoholics, mostly people who posed no danger, but occasionally they had the an honest-to-god burglar or an escaped mental patient to tend to. Frank took a sip of this thermos, hoping the warm drink would fend off the chills, and grimaced; the coffee had gone cold about an hour ago. He'd been too deep in his thoughts, just staring blankly into the night, to notice. The radio of his patrol car squelched to life.

“All units in the vicinity of Stammerford Memorial Hospital, we have a possible ten-sixteen. Units report in.”

Frank glanced at the street sign he had parked near, and realized he was just a few blocks away from the hospital. He wound down his window and poured the vile black liquid that had once been coffee onto the pavement before grabbing hold of the radio receiver and calling in:

“Unit fourteen-four, currently ten-six, over.”

Frank replaced the receiver and dropped the empty thermos into the passenger seats footwell. He rubbed his eyes and wondered if he'd ever sleep again. He'd had a quick interview with a doctor about the incident last night, the one that had left him without a partner, and the doc had told him to go home and rest, to sleep it off and to take some time to come to terms before returning to the job, but here he was. The radio remained silent, no other patrols reported in. After a minute the radio dispatch called out again:

“Repeat, all units in the vicinity of Stammerford Memorial Hospital, we have a possible ten-sixteen. Units report in.”

This time Frank didn't reply, he just watched as a short man hunched over a trash bin across the street, rummaging around to find whatever he was looking for. A faint buzzing noise startled Frank and he instinctively reached for his pocket and retrieved the cell phone. The message he had received read:

“Frank, either go home or go to work. -Phil”

Frank stared at the words on the tiny screen for a minute, until the light faded out as the phone went into power saving mode. Finally he stuck the phone into his pocket and picked up the radio receiver again.

“This is unit fourteen-four, I copy on that possible ten-sixteen, ten-seventy six, en-route, over.”

Frank started his car, startling the hobo across the street, and slowly rolled off onto the quiet streets that lead to the hospital.

It was only minutes later when Frank arrived at the hospital and caught sight of the shambling figure that was leaning on the chain-link fence of the parking lot. The man looked strangely familiar, but Frank pushed the thought aside as he saw that the man looked injured. His pale-blue shirt was stained black in several places and his leg was at an odd angle. Frank allowed his car to roll into a gentle stop and grabbed the radio receiver to report in:

“Fourteen-four, I am ten-twenty three. Possible ten-fifty five at my ten-twenty, over.”

“Copy that, fourteen-four.” -came the response from dispatch.

Frank removed his sidearm from it's holster and checked that the safety was on. It wasn't, so he clicked the selector before holstering the weapon and stepping out of the car. Frank drew out his flashlight and shined it towards the familiar-looking man leaning on the fence.

“Hey there, buddy! Need any help?”

The man jerked his head around, casting a glossy-eyed gaze at Frank. Something about the man made Frank's skin crawl and he hesitated as he stepped in closer.

“Sir, are you injured? Do you want me to call an ambulance?”

Frank took another step, then another, until he was just a few feet away from the man, who seemed to be dazed and confused, as if muttering to himself. Suddenly, before Frank could even react, the man wheeled around and charged at him. The force of his body slamming against his caught Frank unaware and the two men toppled to the ground. The flashlight escaped Frank's grasp as his assailant pinned his arms to the cold asphalt. A guttural voice came from the man's mouth, along with a foul smell: “Did you already forget me, officer?”

---

“Hey, Joe! Did you see this already?”

Joe let the double-doors of the Departedment close behind him and turned to face his colleagues, who had gathered next to the intra-office notice board. A new poster had been hastily tacked on top of the old notices, and Joe hovered in closer to take a look.

“Notice to all departedments and staff. Please locate and return the following case files to administration immediately, due to a potential mix-up all cases are to be placed on hold until the issue is resolved.”

Joe glanced over the names, and recognized one of them immediately. The first name was “Nigel Holmberg”, a father of three who had not been allowed to say goodbye to his children as he had died in a freak car accident. The second name was that of a “Nicholas Holmberg”, a mental patient shot to death during his escape from a hospital, which had left one police officer dead and another shocked to the core.

[CaptainD]

If I'm honest this is less fanfiction and more a daft way of getting a dozen or more AGS game titles into a stupid short story.  Hey, it was fun anyway!

---


Indiana Rodent's highly trained nose did its stuff.  It was true â€" there was definitely cheese here.  It was old cheese, too, by the smell of it â€" very old.  Some Rich Dame had bought it â€" one of the very last examples of a wheel of real Cheese from a real moo cow in this forsaken place.  A detective called Peckard was on the case, but he had no chance of finding it as he was much too distracted by the Mayor's New Dress. 

Indiana pondered.  Who could be responsive for this theft?  Who had the know-how, the iron will, and the technology to steal the cheese?   He feared that the answer came down to something terrible… something alien …  He had heard rumours of a terrible alien called only “The Visitor”, and an even more terrifying alien known as ”Gray”, who might have had a hand in it.  Had he known the truth at that time, our fearless rodent may well have scuttled back into the sumptuous satiny comfort of the major's lingerie drawer, but unknowing and undaunted, he continued to search.  He followed his nose, which is a special skill rodents have due to it being attached to the front of their faces.

Indy trudged through a sprawling catacomb (that should have been a clue, but he failed to recognise it) of sewage pipes.  The cheese was near, very near… suddenly he saw it, gleaming like a golden ball of Edam, on a pedestal, with a sign above it that said “Warning: Fragile!”.  Indy knew all about valuable items on pedestals of course, so he prepared to perform the old switcharoo with a carefully measured bag of sand.  With great care he swapped over the items, hugging the cheese close to his chest like a newborn Babybel.  Very slowly and ever watchful, he crept backwards, expecting at any moment a giant rock or something of that ilk to come rolling towards him at high speed.  There were plenty of platforms to jump on his way back, so he felt confident of his escape.   

In an instant a cage came crashing down around him â€" he was trapped! 

“You didn't really think it would be that easy, surely?” purred a voice.

He knew that voice, and shuddered.  It was the voice of the person Indiana Rodent feared above all others â€" The Cat Lady.

“Who's a pretty mouse then?” asked TCL.

“You'll never get away with this!” proclaimed Indy boldly.

The Cat Lady laughed.  “Oh, purr-lease!  Who's going to stop me?”

Suddenly there was a crashing noise and a battered space ship ploughed through the catacombs.  “I'm saved!” shouted Indy.  Captain Disaster got out, inspected the damage, and looked at them.  “Erm… sorry about that” he said with a  Brummy accent, “apologies for any damage.  I'll be on my way, sorry for disturbing your game.”  With that he re-entered the space ship, there was the sound of a sarcastic computer speaking to him sarcastically, and he was off.

“Unbelievable”, said both Indiana and The Cat Lady together.  “What a disaster!”

Indy ate the cheese â€" he was going to die anyway, he might as well enjoy his last moments.  The Cat Lady looked at him and smiled.  It wasn't a nice smile.

“What?  I was hungry”, said Indiana.

TCL sniggered.  “That cheese contained Nanobots, which will turn you into…”

<DRUMROLL>

“Indiana ROBOT!  Bwahahahahahahahaha and stuff.”

“Noooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!” cried Indiana Rodenot (he was already halfway transformed).

“Now, dance your GROOVY moves, Nanobot-created robot!”

Indiana Robot danced.  Oh, how he danced!   Well, it was better than being eaten.

Eventually OceanSpirit Dennis turned up, shouted “I am the Lightning Master!” and defeated TCL by repeatedly clicking on his ATTACK button.  Everyone got bored and went home.  Indiana Robot was then eaten one Night by a cat called Orazio; the nanobots proliferated, and thus started the Primordia.  Canada was destroyed in the year 2034 and Ben Jordan was called in to investigate, but he got lost in TechnoBabylon and pronounced that in the world of Adventure, it was All In The Game.  He was joined by Jimmy Troublemaker â€" he and Ben really were Two of a Kind.  Together they joined a Black Sect, sang a Troll Song and basically decided that this ridiculous excuse for tiresome narrative should end.

The End.

[Ponch]

Hooray! Entries! Looks like I'll need to make at least two trophies. 

[Bulbapuck]

What the hey, I could use some practice. Besides, I've got a cool idea. Just hoping I'll get it done in time.

[Stupot]

Long time no see Mr. Puck

[Baron]

***SPOILER ALERT: Don't read if you don't want some key mysteries of the game revealed***

GEMINI WHO?

    Azriel stepped over the Director's corpse and checked whether Sayuri was alright.  She'd been shot in the stomach, but she had a pulse.  His training suggested
that she would probably pull through.  The nearby computer terminal was flashing the station's self-destruct countdown, but he needed it to check for his memory files.
    "Azriel?" Sayuri called faintly, coming to.
    Azriel glanced at her, then typed something into the interface.  There they were, their memory files.
    Sayuri lifted up her head.  "Don't," she whispered.  "I don't want to know my past."
    "What about me?" Azriel rasped.  "What about my past?"
    "You don't need it," she replied definitively.
     "FIVE MINUTES TO STATION DESTRUCT," a computerized female voice announced.
     "Let's get out of here," Sayuri begged.
     "That's all fine and dandy," Azriel huffed.  "You knew all the time that you were Epsilon Five.  You could have said something," he muttered.
     "Delta-Six.  Charlie.  Azriel.  What's in a name?  You're still the same person inside.  A good person."  Sayuri winced as she worked herself up into a sitting
position.  "I think I'm hit pretty bad...."
     "You'll live," Azriel grunted.  "Girls don't die of gunshot wounds in adventures.  Where would be my motivation then?"
     Sayuri drew in her breath sharply.  "What about Anna Morales?"
     "See?" Azriel announced triumphantly.  "Memories!  How am I supposed to function without my god-damn memories?!?  My old buddy Matthias just tried to kill me in the hallway because I somehow harmed him back when he was Balder and I was someone named Charlie.  I just shot one of my best friends, and I don't even know why he deserved it.  That's frickin' messed up.  I gotta jog my memories or I don't think I can keep a handle on this crazy messed up world."
     Sayuri moaned.  "You're not going to like what you find," she whispered.
     "She's right."
     Azriel spun to see the Director's monocled visage rising from the pool of blood on the floor.  Instinctively he drew his gun. 
     "FOUR MINUTES TO STATION SELF-DESTRUCT," chimed the computer's voice.
     Azriel's eyes narrowed.  "Who am I?" he asked.
     The Director shrugged.  "You're a dead man," he said philosophically.  "Like the rest of us."
     Azriel shot him again, and he dropped back into the pool of blood.  "Can't I get a bloody straight answer around here?" he asked angrily, turning back to the
computer terminal.
     "Charlie!" a voice rasped.  Azriel turned around to see Matthias's bloody form limping into the Director's office,  gun in hand.  "Charlie!  We ain't through.  We
ain't-" 
      Azriel shot him too, and his corpse slouched against the wall.  "What did I ever do to that Balder guy, anyway," he wondered out loud.
      "You didn't do anything to him," Sayuri explained, eyes closed. 
      "What?"
      "You didn't do it.  You're not Charlie.  You're not even Azriel."
      "What?  Do you mean I'm like some sort of assassin, so I'm not behaving like my inner me?  They reprogrammed me, you know."
      "No.  You never were Charlie.  You're...."  Sayuri trailed off.
      "Dammit." Azriel cursed.
      "THREE MINUTES TO STATION SELF-DESTRUCT."
      "She's right you know," the Director said.  Azriel trained his gun on him again, but this time he didn't attempt to rise from the pool of blood."
      "What do you mean I'm not Azriel?"
      The Director's lips curled into a grotesque smile.  "You're not Azriel.  I'm Azriel."
      Azriel's head shook involuntarily.  "What the F@#$?? ??  Why the hell does everybody call me Azriel then?!?? ?"
      "A clever ruse, my friend.  The Boryokudan needed you to kill Azriel, so they set this whole thing up."
      "And you knew this??" Azriel said incredulously.  "So you got yourself shot intentionally?  This is messed up."
      "And that's not really Balder," the Director continued.
      "What??"
      "Matthias.  He isn't really Balder."
      "Who the hell is he?"
      "He is Epsilon Five."
      "What?!?" Azriel blinked twice.  "You mean I just killed my love interest?  Again?? ??"
      "If it makes you feel any better we had her memories entirely wiped and replaced with those of Balder."
      Matthias began to rise again from his slouched position against he wall.  "Charlie!" he screamed.
      Azriel raised his gun, then hesitated.  "Have you been listening to this?" he asked the bloody monster that was rising to life again in front of him.  "You know Charlie is actually the guy on the-"
      "Charlie!" Matthias called again, stumbling and raising a gun towards him.
      "Oh son of a-" Azriel shot Matthias again, and he collapsed next to the chuckling Director who was claiming to be Azriel.
      "What's so funny?" Azriel asked.  "Hey, if you're Azriel, how do you know so much?"
      "TWO MINUTES TO STATION SELF-DESTRUCT."
      Azriel's communicator crackled to life.  "Hey Azriel, we gotta get out of here now!" Kane shouted from the bridge of their ship.
      The Director chuckled some more.  "I got into the computer memory banks, of course.  Just like you're trying to do.  Trust me, this whole thing is even more
messed up than you think."
      Sayuri groaned again, coming back into consciousness.
      "Then who is she?" Azriel asked.
      "I'm the Director, of course." She propped herself up a little more comfortably, and her stomach wound gushed more blood.
      "What?? ??" Azriel spat incredulously.  "But...  Didn't we, you know....?? ??"
      "I was faking it," Sayuri said nonchalantly.  "It was all a part of the greater scheme."
      "But...  You're going to die!  What kind of stupid scheme was that?!?"
      "You think that's stupid," the Director-Who-Claimed-To-Be-Azriel began, propping himself up on his elbow.  Sayuri shot him, and he collapsed back down.
      "Wait, I'm confused," Azriel said.  "Which one of you two is the Director?"
      Sayuri sighed.  "I'm the Director.  He," she waved her gun at the Director, "was Azriel, who had been surgically altered to look like the Director, and had his
memory banks reprogrammed to believe that he was the Director."
      "But he said he was Azriel!" Azriel pointed out.
      "He was!  Since as the Director he had access to the memory banks stored on the station's computer, he was able to upload his own memories and discovered that he
was really Azriel.  That's why he shot me."
      "Holy crap!" Azriel blurted out.
      "Charlie!" Matthias called out again, rising once more from the puddle of blood.  Both Azriel and the Director shot him again.
      "ONE MINUTE TO STATION SELF-DESTRUCT."
      "Azriel!  We gotta go!" Kane's desperation crackled through the communicator.
      "Go on without me," Azriel paged back.
      "What?!?"
      "I'm not really Azriel," he replied.  The communicator was quiet for a long moment.
      "Well, he's not really Kane either," Sayuri began.
      "What?!?"
      "He's actually Balder."
      "That bastard!" Azriel clenched his fist in rage.
      "Yeah," Sayuri said.  "Of course he thinks he is Kane."
      "Azriel?" the communicator burst to life once more.  "Azriel, I'm coming to get you."
      Azriel put the communicator up to his mouth, then put it down again, shrugging.  "Bastard has it coming, I guess."  He turned to look at the countdown on the
computer terminal, then back to Sayuri.  "Alright, now for the million credit question.  Who the hell am I?"
       "Haven't you figured it out?" Sayuri asked.
       "I'm Kane!" Azriel guessed.
       "Nope."
       "Giselle?"
       "Not even close."
       "Nathaniel?"
       "We just made him up."
       "Oh yeah.  How about that newspaper vendor back on Barracus?"
       "You're just being silly now."
       Azriel glanced back at the counter on the computer terminal.  "Alright," he said with some annoyance.  "I give up.  Who am I?"
       Sayuri smiled.  "You are the computer countdown voice!"
       "No!"
       "Yes!"
       "Well I'll be a-"
       The station explodes.
     

[Bulbapuck]

Long time no see Mr. Puck

Yeah, I suppose it has been . I should start being active again, I do love it here.

Anyway, here's my entry. It's been a while since I wrote anything like this and the end result is a lot different from what I intended to write. But oh well.

Eicha

Eicha found himself in a dark forest. The trees were so densely placed he could barely see the ground.

"I don't think I like this Sally, maybe we should just go back."

"Relax, Eicha. Come up here!" Sally had already walked halfway to the top of a tree shaped like a spiral that connected to a large tree in the middle. When Eicha saw that look in her eye, that look of exploration, he knew it to be impossible to talk her down. This being the case, Eicha started the ascend.

When they reached the top they sat down on one of the thicker branches, and looked out over the landscape. Although it was night, the land was well lit from the three moons in the sky. They saw the forest stretch beyond the horizon in all directions, and if it weren't for all the hills everything would look the same. The one and only distinct landmark was a mountain that was too far away to be reachable. The leaves of the trees were shiny and reflected the moonlight, but one tree at a distance seemed to shine in a different way. Almost like it was radiating warmth.

"I want to go there"

"Shouldn't we wait for daybreak?" Eicha replied, who in reality didn't want to make the trip at all.

"We don't know when that will be. Besides, the forest is exciting at night." Exciting wasn't exactly the word Eicha would use, but thinking back to the adventures the two had shared he knew better than to argue.
----

They walked for hours, guided only by the small glimpses of moonlight shining through the treetops. The forest seemed like a giant maze to Eicha, he was worried.

"Do you know where you're going?" he asked.

"You saw it, it's somewhere in this direction. I've got a good feeling about this way."

"Okay, but how will we find the way back?"

"Trust me. We'll get back." Eicha didn't reply, he still seemed concerned. Sally knew that if he panicked here the situation could get bad, she needed to get his mind out off the woods. "You're thinking too much, tell me a story! One from your life before the rebels attacked."

"Well... Have I told you about my brother?" Eicha asked.

"You've only mentioned him once or twice."

"As my father served in the military, I didn't get to see him much. And I don't even remember my mother. So me and my brother were by ourselves most of the time. He practically raised me. Every morning he went into town and bought us some bread to eat, and he would get some snacks to himself. I used to get angry at him for never giving me any treats, I only ever got bread to eat. But he used to say that he earned it for getting up so early and getting us food. So one day I decided to get up early and come with him. But he refused. He said it was 'adult business' and told me to get back to bed. He could be very stubborn, so I didn't go with him but in stead I followed him. I figured that once he had bought everything I could reveal myself and he would have no excuse not to give me some crisps. But to my surprise, he never bought any snacks. He just got some bread and walked back home."

"So where did he get the crisps?"

"Well, after that day I started noticing things. Like how he would always eat the same types of snacks, and that he used to leave me more bread as he 'didn't want to fill up before his treats.'"

"Oh! I see."
----

The sun was just now rising, but the forest was as much a maze with sunlight as it was without. Sally didn't flinch however and her step was as filled with confidence as it was when they started the walk. But suddenly, she came to a halt.

"Are we lost?" Eicha asked, with an almost panic like worry in his voice.

"There." Sally replied as she pointed towards something hanging in a tree. As they approached it they saw that it was a neckless made out of a thin rope that was tied around a shiny rock.

"This can't be it" Sally said. "It had a different glow, a warm glow. This one just reflects some sunlight." As she looked over at Eicha waiting for a reply she saw him carefully studying the rock, his eyes wide open.

"You're right, it doesn't have the same glow. But this is it. This is what we came to find."

"I don't understand."

"The moon crystal, it matches every discription I have ever heard."

"A source gem?"

"A very unique one."

They stood silently, examining it. Finally Eicha said "Where do you think it will take us?"

"Only one way to find out!" Sally replied as she took the rock and started to walk back, Eicha followed.
----

Trees, trees, uphill, downhill, more trees. Eicha had no idea whre he was or where he was going. But the forest didn't look as scary to him as it did before. He couldn't tell if it was because of a growing trust for Sally's intuition or if his mind had just gone numb from the monotony of the situation.

"Do you think he could still be alive?" Sally suddenly asked.

"Who?"

"Your brother."

"Oh! Maybe. Doubt it. In the war we were hiding out in an old shelter after the rebels had conquered the city. We knew that if we would get caught we would be gonners. Suddenly a grenade flew into the window and we ran, not looking back. I don't know what happened to him but I know I'm lucky to be alive. But who knows? He might still be out there somewhere. Maybe he also found a traveller like you in his escape." Sally smiled.

"Do you want to go back there?"

"It's too risky now. It will be a while until the situation has calmed down. But maybe some day, it is home after all."

Then they saw something very interesting, among all the trees there was one that they recogniced. It was a tree shaped like a spiral that connected to a large tree in the middle. They approached it and went to the box on the other side.

"Are you ready?" Sally asked.

"Of course" Eicha replied with a face filled with as much excitement as Sallys.

They touched the box with the necklace. The box, as it had so many times before, opened up and flung the two adventurers into it. Where it would take them? That is a story for another time. For all stories must end, but something tells me these two adventurers will begin many of them. This is Ebenezer Leary, wishing many adventures and safe travels to you all.

[Ponch]

So many entries! Is it greedy to hope for a few more before the deadline gets here?

[Ponch]

Thanks for the entries, guys. Now it's time to vote!

WHAM: Second Escape - A Chance of the Dead Fanfiction

CaptainD: A dozen or more AGS game titles in a single short story (Probably a working title, I think)

Baron: Gemini Who?

Bulbapuck: Eicha

Please cast your votes within the next 72 hours!