It's continuing right now. There is a collaborative fiction in progress called "The Special Investigators" involving the Dragon Princess. I won't write any other stories until that one is completed.

After giving Arctic-Fox a proper farewell ceremony, the Dragon Princess returned to her guild hall to consider whom she could turn to for help.

Her first thought was of Vin, who had been a vital part of the team that fought with her for the powerful Trinkets of the monsters. He wouldn’t be afraid to pursue the investigation to where ever it took him regardless of the danger. She knew vaguely that he had spent some time with Basil in his shadowy past.

She sent him this letter:

Dear Vin,
I am in desperate need of your services once again. My investigation into the murder of Rudkin is more dangerous and difficult than I imagined.
The Strangers are hiding something from us, Vin. Go to Basil. Find out what you can. Where is he getting his recipes? What recipes is he not sharing us? And what else does he know about Rudkin’s murder?
Watch your back, Vin. Take help if you need to. Let me know what you discover.
Luv ~ ♥ , Mawashimono ۞ The Dragon Princess ۞

This kind of investigation needed knights who excelled in reconnaissance and intelligence gathering. She naturally thought of the recon gunner
Nick Strider, and sent him the following letter.

Dear Mr. Nick Strider,
I am in dire need of your skills. I am assembling a team of special investigators to look into not only the murder of a Stranger, but there secretive society as a whole. I believe your unique skill set makes you especially suitable for tracking down the only stranger we know of to have gone missing - Quince from our Rescue Camp. his early friendliness with our spiral Order may have made him strong enemies. Was he murdered, abducted, or did he flee in fear?
Find him if you can, or at least find some answers. But tread carefully, Strider. there may be a conspiracy vaster than we know.
Sincerely Yours, Mawashimono ۞ The Dragon Princess ۞

ding! Nick looked up from cleaning his Plague Needle. A message? Holstering the needler, he stood and pulled up the transmission. Reading it slowly, he grinned slightly. Sounds interesting, certainly better than sitting around here. He walked over to a simple looking oak table with two handguns lying on it. Scooping the Sentenza and Valiance up, Nick secured his hat and walked outside. At the last second he hesitated, hm, maybe the Nova will be useful this mission. Backtracking, Nick slid open a closet and grabbed the Driver. As he closed the door and locked it behind him, he reached up and pulled the brim of his Nameless down so it covered his eyes to onlookers. As he walked towards the road to the rescue camp, he decided he would check in with the Dragon Princess. He entered the Guild Hall, and waited for the Princess to appear.

When he noticed she wasn't doing anything, he walked up to her. Saluting slightly, he delivered his question, "Good day to you Dragon Princess, do you have any previous info on our stranger at the rescue camp?"

Vin

Nowhere.

That's where Basil was.

It had only been a few hours since Vin had been sent off to go talk with Basil in the Clockworks, but he was absent from every single Station he was supposed to be at. He had already checked all of today's gates, but to no avail. Already, he could hear chatter from his infuriated friends' frequencies that there was something very wrong indeed.

And so, that was why he returned to the Devilites for information. They knew plenty, they knew more than what should be comfortably known, but it was plenty.

And so, as Vin took small steps into the Devilite office complex, the receptionist had already picked up her chair at ready.
"Woah there!" Vin exclaimed as he raised his hands towards the marble ceiling. "Hey...I'm not here to fight. You don't want to raise your weapon at a customer, do you?"

The small Devilite, an IT graduate dressed in a smart yellow color and fashionable blue lenses, did not throw, but she did not let down her guard either.

"...your weapons, then. Unequip them now."

Without protest, he focused his eyesight to the inventory icon on his HUD, and unequipped his polaris and Snarbolax Shield.
"...your sword. Unequip it," the receptionist commanded.

And Vin bit his lip. They'd capture me if I was weaponless...but suppose I don't kill anyone right now. Maybe I could install some fear into them? I could always handle their assassins later...

As he pondered upon this, he fluidly unsheathed his sword, and pummeled the flying keyboard in a single motion.

Should be easy enough.

~~~

"A little ironic, isn't it?" asked Vin, his voice in strain. It was so because he was struggling to keep the overweight Pit Boss from falling from the sixth floor down of the office complex, who was twice his weight. "I didn't...think that Devilites could go any deeper in the Underworld, but perhaps I was wrong. Say, if I did drop you on your head, what would happen? You don't have any more Yes-men or employees..."
Vin's feet struggled to grasp the carpet, and he slid a few centimeters.

"W-well..." the burly man bumbled loudly, "...the company would fall...and we'd get replaced by the scamming law firm..."

Slide...

"And...uh...there w-would be an upset in the e-economy...since we ARE the most successful shareholding company for smaller businesses..."

"And...?"

Slide...

"A-and...th-then m-my family's name would be erased...erased...OH NO...PULL ME UP NOW! PLEASE!"

"Then tell me where's Basil."

"Basil? W-we haven't done a recipe transaction in y-years!"

"LIES! It's only been SIX months since I've left his side, and I know your company like the back of my hand!"

Vin released his grip on the Vanquisher's chain, and allowed it to slide a few inches before grabbing it again.

"OH SOL. OH VOG. H-he started transactions with the Gremlins!"

"HE'S BEEN MAKING TRANSACTIONS!"

Vin whipped the chain up and down, causing the Pit Boss to be slammed mercilessly into the window of the 5th floor, hard.
"I'll pull you up if you don't tell me, but I'll let you drop if you do. Quick and painless. You don't want to be pulled up, do you?!"

"N-NO! ALRIGHT! ALRIGHT...WE'VE BEEN MAKING RESEARCH ON A NEW LINE OF AUTOGUNS! He's been visiting our facilities since we came out with the first prototype!"

"NOW WE'VE MADE PROGRESS! MORE!"

"I DON'T KNOW!"

"LIES!"

Vin began to pull up, his aching arms now burning in rage as they steadily tugged in yard by yard of chain.

"I SWEAR TO VOG I DON'T KNOW! PLEASE, NO!!!"

The fat pit boss, dressed smartly in a cerulean suit, stained his attire with purple ichor as shards of glass sliced at his spine. He screamed and writhed like a madman, but to no avail. He was dragged closer, and closer, and STILL CLOSER to Vin, and when he saw the spines of the Snarbolax Shield, his pleas for help became nothing but mere whispers.

He closed his eyes, and waited for the blow that never came.

In fact, it wasn't until several hours later did he wake up and found himself in an infirmary, all of his employees also bedridden alongside him.
And that was that for the interrogation.

Nick Strider

Nick decided that he'd wait no more, and left the Hall. As he walked out of Haven, he pondered about what he should do first. Maybe that Quince disappeared into the jungle surrounding Haven. Coming to the edge of the chasm, Nick turned back to haven and touched the brim of his hat.
And he descended.

The lift grinded to a halt. Nick loaded his Nova Driver, remembering the constructs on his first trip. One after another the tier one retrodes tried to attack, and one after another he blasted their heads off.

He was riddling a Chroma with his Plague needle when he saw the Gremlins. They were Ghostmanes, definitely not common visitors. He holstered the needle and followed them. The two Stalkers were discussing something.

"-ave to be here?"

"You know already. Crimson Order says. Now be quiet before someone hears you!"

They cloaked. Nick cursed silently, then listened for their footsteps. Hearing them lightly padding towards the rescue camps position. Frowning, Nick followed, Why are they heading to the Camp?

Looks like they have something planned... Nick was behind a gnarled tree, surveying the campsite of gremlins. The camp was located on a cliff overlooking the rescue camp. Most of the gremlins were tier one, but there was the random Darkfang or Ironclaw present, mostly the superior ranking ones. The Shadowmanes are scouts from the main Colony, here to report... Something.

And he was going to find out.

Lying low, Nick blended with the shadows, moving silently towards the command tent. The process was slow, excruciatingly slow, especially sneaking by the sentries, but he was trained for this. The main camp was situated farthest to one side of the camp. Not very Smart, should be in the center, so that its harder to infiltrate. As it was, he just had to find a suitable spot to eavesdrop on the main commander's tent. There was sentry posted, leaning on his or her thwack hammer. The Thwacker looked decidedly bored, that would make it easier to pass by. A bored sentry would see what he would expect to see, nothing. Creeping through the shadows, Nick slunk through the darkness, moving an inch at a time passing the bored sentry. The sentry stirred, Nick froze and watched him as the sentry shifted the hammer to another hand and settled. He continued passed the sentry and up next to the tent.

There was laughter inside the tent, intrigued Nick crept closer. Spotting a pile of barrels stacked next to the tent, he positioned himself behind them, but low to the ground in case someone moved them. He listened intently, seeking out the details of the conversation.
"ahahaha... good one Linx!"

"Yeah, another round?" There was a small commotion and a gremlin emerged from the entrance, and shambled towards a supply of liquor apparently.

"So, what do you think of our mission hm? To take over the rescue camp?" Now this is interesting, a siege?

"Oh I think we should be more focused in those damn deserters is Emberlight. Traitors they are."

"Ah, this'll be quick, just take the force in and strike in the afternoon!"

"Eh? Why not nighttime? That's when you’re supposed to make a surprise attack right?"

"Exactly!" There was a cackle of laughter, "That's exactly why we're attacking at past noon, no one will expect that. Hee hee hee!"
"Are we going to wipe em all out?"

"Erm, that's the thing, I've sent a convoy of Ghostmanes to the Order to ask if we should massacre them, which we could, or if we should take hostages."

"Yeah, well I think- hey looky! Gerard is back with some slosh!"

Nick decided he had listened enough; he had to warn the rescue camp. It was more fortified, but not prepared for a surprise attack. He understood the gremlin's strategy, at night is the expected attack; that is when most sentries are posted. After lunch is when everyone is relaxed. He HAD to warn the Rescue Camp.

Although, maybe he could even the odds a bit before he left...

The Dragon Princess

“Thank you for your help, Hailoh and Plinkop,” said the Dragon Princess. If what Vanaduke said was true about a war involving al the races on the planet, then we need to recruit our side.”

“Agreed,” said Hailoh and Plinkop in unison.

After a brief pause during which the Strangers consulted one another telepathically, Hailoh spoke. “We shall parlay with the Snipes and the Wolvers. We are confident they will fight beside us.”

“The snipes fight?!” asked the Dragon Princess with a laugh.

“They can be fearsome in flock,” said Hailoh, “just as wolvers are in a pack.

“Hmmm, good, then I’ll contact an ally among the Gremlins and see what I can do,” said the Dragon Princess.

******************************************************************

The Dragon Princess went to visit Nonna, her friend and the supervisor of the adoption agency that the knights supported. This required a trip through a Deconstruction Zone, which the Dragon Princess planned to get through as quickly as possible. As soon as she stepped of the gate, however, a swarm of gremlins attacked her.

She had spent most of her life in military training. She was not castle-dwelling royalty grown soft over time. Her muscles her firm and her reflexes honed so that she acted from instinct bred by years of battle.

She cut into the advancing mob with a charged release of her Acheron. She dodged to the side while firing from a Sentenza alchemized with very high shadow damage to Gremlins, inflicting maximum casualties. She took a flying axe off her shoulder that temporarily threw her off balance. A second caught her with a blow from his blade. She laid down Ash of Agni bomb flame as she retreated around a building, then switched to charging her Acheron. She came around behind them and took out two as they turned toward her.

“I don’t want to fight,” yelled the Dragon Princess. “I want to talk with Nonna!” The smell of her blood had inflamed them with bloodlust, and her plea was ignored.

A healer kept out nullifying the damage she was doing. She switched to her Obsidian Edge and began whittling away their numbers with its noxious charge. She looked desperately for the lift in order to avoid taking any more lives. Finally it appeared and she dove into it. It enclosed her with its refuge before taking down to the next level where Nonna dwelt among chromalisks.

She tensed to fight but the chromalisks flicked out their long tongues merely to lick her with their greetings. Nonna showed up quickly and said “It is so good to see you again, Princess. OH, but what happened to your tail?”

"I . . . lost it for a good cause,” replied the Dragon Princess.

“Well, lizards have means of regeneration that might be able to help you with that. But what brings you here today?” asked Nonna.

“A terrible civil war is brewing among all the races on the planet.

Lord Vanaduke is leading the Fiends and Undead. I’ve formed an alliance with the Strangers and have come in hopes that Gremlins and Chromalisks will fight with us rather than against us,” said the Dragon Princess.

“The Strangers are friends to all beasts,” said Nonna. “We would not attack them as we are old allies.

“Good, that’s a relief to hear,” said the Dragon Princess. “I’ll be in touch with more intel when we have it. In the meantime, inform your forces and prepare yourselves for a world-wide conflict.”

Nick and Quince

Nick looked around for something to cause some disruption. His eyes lit on a pile of barrels, a big oil symbol plastered on the side of each. That looks fun.

"Do you think Quince will betray the deal?" A gremlin's words froze Nick in place.

He was halfway to standing up, hm, this sounds important, guess some fun might have to wait. Nick retreated out of side once again and listened for the conversation.

"What? Eh, why would you think that? Didn't look very traitorous to me."

"Exactly! I think he is going to stay loyal to the Spiral Order. I saw him looking nervous at our last meeting." Well, this is interesting.

"Hmm, well I guess he did look sort of shifty. We'll just have to wait for them to send us word along with the-"

What was said next Nick never found out because just then the guard Nick had passed earlier seemed to notice something where he was standing. He was tramping over to find out. Keeping one hand resting on his Sentenza, Nick slowly retreated farther into the shadows. The gremlin still came closer, it peered into the darkness right at Nick. He stayed stock still, any movement would alert the gremlin. After what seemed like an eternity, the Gremlin straightened and turned away.

I think it's time I left this party. Nick spotted a grapple sitting just inside of a barracks of sorts. Ghosting from cover to cover, he slowly made his way to the climbing device, a plan was forming in his mind. Nick ducked inside and scooped up the grapple and throwing it over his shoulder. Hearing a sound, Nick came up with his Sentenza. A Gremlin Thwacker was staring at him with wide eyes, a cigarette fell from his hand.

He ducked the hammer throw and fired three quick shots into the Thwacker, who crumpled on the soft grass. Someone's going to find him eventually, better move." Taking his Plague Needle in one hand and his Sentenza in the other, Nick took a deep breath and charged outside the tent, guns blazing.

Interlude

The slime pulsed rhythmically, always in motion, quivering, oozing, seeming to breathe in and out yet not capable of either inhalation or exhalation.
Its companion was a construct who likewise required no oxygen. Yet where the slime was in constant motion, the construct was perfectly still. Its body stood slightly bent at the waist, head cocked slightly to one side.

Their communication was through a series of sounds that would sound like gibberish to most of the other races on the planet. This made construct and slimes somewhat naturally allies, but they had joined together for other reasons as well.

The constructs resented and feared the Strangers’ technological ability to control them. The Strangers had also developed aura technology that acted as a repulser to slimes. Rumors were swirling that the Strangers and knights were forming an alliance with gremlins and beasts to fight against an army of fiends and undead lead by Lord Vanaduke. The slimes and constructs had no love for Vanaduke, but they would be willing to fight alongside his army if it meant an end to the knights and Strangers who plagued their planet.

Worldwide war was coming, and they planned to be on the winning side.

Vin & Biscotti

Vin, in some ways, knew he had gotten closer to his answer. In other ways, he knew that he also drew farther from his answers.

It was a known fact that Knights had always had their weapons confiscated when they were captured by a Devilite workforce or a group of Gremlin Thwackers. Otherwise, the Recovery program wouldn't have existed for Knights to get replacements. However, his information on what exactly the confiscated weapons were used for was nothing but obscure. That Autogun Basil had was definitely a shadow-type weapon, else it'd have perforated his armor like cheese, but the feed and sight system wasn't what he had exactly in mind.

In fact, it was an old concept, back when Isora hosted not the Knights of the Order, but their ancestors. It was a belt-feed system that was used to provide continuous ammunition for these guns of olden times, and by the time the Order came about, the revolutionary revolving magazines were more favorable for weight, stability, and portability purposes. In addition, the built-in aiming systems for the Knights eliminated the need for any type of sights, and Knights skilled enough could shoot without so much as turning towards the target's direction.

So the prototype was definitely not meant for Knights, and it was more akin to an automatic pistol for Basil. Constructs manufactured their own firearms. Fiends would have trouble with the recoil...

And Beasts were entirely out of the question.

Vin frowned. It could only mean that two possibilities for users were left : Undead, and Gremlins, but...

...the Inquisitor grinned.

If it's Basil testing these out, he'd probably make a blueprint for each prototype...

"Um...Vin?" asked Biscotti as she was staring at her oven. "...did you like them?"

Vin came back to his senses as his tongue was bombarded by an extremely bitter taste, and by impulse, he gagged before forcing himself to swallow it. His regret surfaced just as quickly as the food in his esophagus did. It was then that he had to hunch over and seal his mouth shut with his hands before swallowing the sour-bitter leftovers yet again. Finally, his throat agreed, and the lump of food settled in his stomach.
"N-no! N-not at all!" he replied, panting. Wait...did he say something wrong?

"...you...you don't like my pastries...?" she then asked, her voice breaking.

Vin looked up, and saw tears forming in Biscotti's pretty blue eyes.

...I didn't mean it that way...

"O-oh, no! I thought you were asking if your pastries were ba-" he tried to explain, before Biscotti released an ear-piercing wail. Next thing he knew, she was running out of her bakery and into the Bazaar. In between sobs, she was wailing that she was a failure...

The Inquisitor sighed, and walked into the kitchen. Maybe he could find something wrong with her ingredients...
...or rather, he found everything wrong.

The whole kitchen was literally dusted in a light layer of flour, and a lemon meringue pie was still stuck to a wall for Vog-knows-how-long. The stove was more like a black lump of iron, and the floor...

Well...the floor...um...

It could be said Vin walked into every single trap for a week after that.

Shakily, he looked up again at the rest of the kitchen, when he saw something shift on a shelf. Slowly, he drew his Vanquisher out, and approached the moving object.

As he closed in, he felt something sticky sock him in the face, and he fell to the floor. With a satisfied purr, the moving object shook itself, allowing the flour to fall to the floor, and it revealed itself as a silhouette of a Chromalisk. There was no doubt about it; those horns and the rather pudgy frame was a dead ringer for one of those annoying lizards, and it was waddling away from the Inquisitor in flamboyance as it left a trail to outside.
It was then that Vin knew it : Biscotti was a lost cause...

Nick and Quince

Guns blazing was an exaggeration, Nick charged outside and downed three gremlins from a wave of bullets. After that he lost his advantage of surprise. The gremlins quickly returned fire, lobbing grenades and hammers. He ducked behind a supply crate and snapped off a shot, taking a gremlin in the head. Then a hail of hammers filled the air and he didn't have a open chance to fire. Nick looked for a distraction and saw the pile of barrels. Later His eyes lit on a grenade that the demos used. Grabbing it, he quickly assessed how it worked. A little windup thing seemed to be the timer. He cranked it a couple times then hurled it towards the gremlins. The explosion certainly distracted some of them, using this time, Nick dashed towards the cliff face. He dove behind another piece of cover and leveled his Sentenza. Aiming precisely, he picked off six of the enemy's number. The gremlins seemed to realize they were coming up against an Expert Marksmen, and their advance seemed to slow. Although, Nick made out a small party of Thwackers detach and head around the tents. Flanking? Better speed this up. He retreated into a tent and crawled under the far flap. He brought himself behind the group as they tried to sneak up on his position. There were six of them, the leading one stopped the party and peered around the corner. When he saw no one, he barked an order and they started to fan out. Nick watched as one of them slowly walked towards the pile of scrap he was hiding behind.

The gremlin looked around, this was supposed to be an easy takeout. One knight! That's all. The tents he walked among just a day ago now seemed ominous, the enemy could be in any one of them. He shifted his hammer to another hand, oh how a Darkfang shield would be useful! He walked around a pile of scrap and heard movement. Freezing in place, the gremlin swept his gaze over the immediate area. One of the other members of the squad walked past a column of tents to his left. That was all, he took a step forward and instantly something smashed into the backpack secured on his back.

Nick watched as the gremlin sagged to the ground. He turned and stealthily moved closer to the cliff. Feeling he was close enough, he stood up straight and walked towards the cliff. Almost instantly a gremlin saw him and called out. He stood with his back to the cliff and faced the incoming gremlins. They formed a line cutting off any escape other than the cliff. An important looking gremlin shoved his way to the front of the crowd.
"Who the Vog are you? And how did you find us?" He Ordered. Brandishing a Flamethrower at him.

Nick took in the flamethrower, and Crimson Order badge on the Gremlin's chest. Must be the replacement for Razwog.

Smiling slightly, he replied. "I am someone you don't have to know and I don't think it matters how I got here."

He could see the anger growing in the Gremlin's face. "Now see here knight! You're the one trapped and you're the one who should be answering my questions!"

Nick was growing tired of this Gremlin, "Am I trapped? I think I already answered your questions. Didn't I?"

The Gremlin looked ready top kill him. Time to act. He pulled out a detonator and the Gremlin looked puzzled.
"What's that? It better not be-"

There was a loud PHWOOOOOM as the pile of barrels ignited thanks to the small explosive sitting by the bottom.

Everyone turned away to watch the flaming barrels start rolling amuck through the campsite. Setting fire to the tents. The lead Gremlin spun back to the knight in fury.

"I'll have your head for that!" He flicked on his Flame thrower and aimed it at the figure responsible for the destruction of his campsite. The knight was pointing a pistol at him! He ducked to the side and something smashed into his shoulder. Blinking through the pain, the Gremlin let loose a storm of fire to incinerate the knight who caused all this. What he saw was crazy, the knight turned and leapt off the edge of the cliff! The flames died out as the Gremlin blacked out.

Nick fell through the air. Searching for a target, he flung the grapple towards a tree growing on an outcropping on the cliff. Seeing the rope wrap itself around the trunk, Nick wrapped the other end around one hand and then the other. He reached the end of the rope and swung sideways under the outcropping. Letting go of the rope, Nick soared through the air and landed in a tree. The trunk sagged under the new weight, but righted itself after a few seconds. Adjusting himself, Nick looked back up to the rescue camp, the fire was flaring up and the Gremlins were working hard to douse the flames. He turned his attention back to the tree and dropped to the ground. Instantly, pain flared up one leg. Aw scrap, sprained ankle. He propped himself up on a tree. Looking around, he spied a branch that was a sensible height and thickness. He picked it up and leaned against it. This is good. Satisfied that it would hold his weight, Nick made his way towards the rescue camp.

Mawashimono & Bootshuze

The addition of Granseal to the Special Investigators was a bright island in a swamp of bad news. The Fiends, Undead, Constructs and Slimes were forming an army under the leadership of Lord Vanaduke, and according to Nick, the Gremlin allies they thought they could count on were turning out to be a mirage. Even the Strangers were not the friends she supposed they were.

And she still had not found Rudkin’s murderer. It was time for an interrogation, and she knew just whom to lean on.

“Ah, good evening Dragon Princess,” said Bootshuze nervously. “To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?”

Mawashimono was too fed up with lies and deceits to take a nice approach. Rather she let her cool-blooded dragon run the show. She lept onto Bootshuze with a growl, and used her momentum to twist around and slam him to the ground. She wrapped her legs around his arm to put him in an arm bar, and leaned back hard.

“AHHHhhhh,” screamed Boothuze.

“Were facing a world wide war that the knights are going to lose, and I think whoever murdered Rudkin and why might be the clue to preventing it,” she said as she jerked on his arm.

“Gyahhhh” he yelled in pain. “But,” he gasped. “I don’t know who exactly murdered Rudkin.”

The Dragon Princess slammed his head into the ground hard, but not hard enough to knock him unconscious. She still wanted to interrogate him further.

“Then who, inexactly, killed him and why?” she growled.

“It . . . It . . . but they’ll kill me,” Bootshuze pleaded.

The Dragon Princess got right up eye to eye with him and let out a puff of flame. Bootshuze cried out and try to turn his face away from the burn she had just given him.

“Tell me all you know, now, or I’ll fry you alive,” threatened the Dragon Princess.

“The constructs did it, they killed Rudkin,” he confessed.

“How? You Strangers can control constructs,” said the Dragon Princess.

“That’s the thing,” said Bootshuze. “We can’t anymore. They’ve developed technology of their own to counteract ours. It’s why we were trying to keep it secret. But some of us wanted to tell you knights, so they had to be silenced.”

“And what about the war that’s coming?” asked the Dragon Princess.

“It’s not going to be a war,” said Bootshuze. “It was going to be a slaughter, to rid the world once and for all of all the Spiral Knights."

Even her cold blood felt chilled when she heard this. “There must be a way to prevent it,” she said.

“I’m sorry,” said Bootshuze. “Truly I am, but it’s too late. The attack is coming, and there’s nothing you can do to stop it.”

“I don’t believe that. If that were true, then why try to silence other Strangers?” she said half to herself.

What was on those blueprints Quince had escaped with? What role did the Arms dealers play in all of this? What was the nature of the weapon that the Fiends had teleported to either Sol-fork or Amu-sol, and could we turn it to our advantage?

The Dragon Princess hoped her Special Investigators could find some answers and a way to prevent the imminent slaughter of every one they held dear.

Granseal: The Gloaming Wildwoods

For the seasoned Vanguard that he was, reaching the Wildwoods was quite simple. The intervening floors had gone by in a flash, a staccato beat of clashing swords and deadly shots from his Peacemaker. He still wished he had a Sentenza, but Basil had never seen fit to carry it when he could afford it. It would have made dealing with the possible gremlin infestation in the Gloaming Wildwoods much easier. "Can't be helped, I'll manage it the unconventional way. They expect gunfire, I'll give them a taste of what it was like to be trapped in the Apocrea.", he said to himself with a chuckle as he reached the first Clockworks Terminal.

The absence of Basil was immediately apparent to Granseal. Not that he wanted for recipes at this stratum but it had been strange to not see him. "Must be on vacation or he finally retired/died...", he muttered to himself as he just rested in the vitabay. Sighing softly, he keyed his com link.

To Mawashimono "The Dragon Princess",

I am now entering the Gloaming Wildwoods. I'll give you further reports as I make progress through the area.

Granseal, of the Divine Avengers

As he hit "Send", he groaned. That message he sent was so damn dry. The writer in him cried out in anguish but he knew that even the slightest news was welcomed, especially during these uncertain times. There'd be plenty to write about once he entered the Gloaming Wildwoods. He exited the vitabay and jumped on the lift. He turned up the volume on his music player a hair as he grinned.

The lift opened to a shocking sight, the tranquility of the wood had been disturbed. Beast and Gremlin corpses littered the grasses. "There is no time to waste. I must hurry and find Quince," he said to himself as he skirted a puddle of poisonous goo. Some surviving beasts turned to look at him as he strode by, dressed like a Snarbolax. They emerged from their burrows and followed in his footsteps, yipping and chittering.

He followed his ears, listening to the sound of wrench wand and axe warfare. Drawing his Obsidian Edge, he crept into the brush. He saw a fleeing Stranger and a squad of Gremlins. "That must be Quince...", he thought to himself as he pulled up his mails. The beasts behind him barked and roared, diverting the Gremlins towards his position in the deep brush. "Great...", he muttered before imitating the howl of the Snarbolax. The beasts perked their ears and wagged their tails before leaping into the clearing, biting and spitting.

To Mawashimono,

Granseal again. I've spotted Quince fleeing towards the Lair of the Snarbolax. Herex's unit is close behind. I'm engaging them now, the beasts follow me. Probably because I look like one of them. Quince is still alive, I repeat, Quince is still alive. I hope this good news helps.

Granseal, Divine Avenger

After hitting "Send", he joined the fray. Quince paused, looking over his shoulder to see the Knight enter the battle. He gave a chuckle before settling in beside the lift to the Snarbolax's lair.

Vin

Grand Arsenal : Classified Area

Constantine was tired. He had been working 17-hour shifts since he had first got here, and though half a year had passed, it seemed as if he had gotten nowhere in the ranks. He found it strange, since he was more of a designer than a worker (The Devilite Institute of Dark Arts diploma proved that all the more), that he was to begin the rapid construction of a new shipment of weapons.

The IT Devilite, dressed in a smart yellow suit for a smart yellow body, was not an advocate for violence. In fact, many of the workers here voted a silent "no" when asked to repel the threat from the skies. Had it not been for the Pit Bosses' votes, though, they wouldn't have gotten into this mess in the first place. The tedious job of creating blueprints for some of the Devilites own Alchemy machines was more of a dilemma than an actual solvable problem, but to hell with his designing skills, Devilites wanted extremely good workers.

It wasn't in his place to get angry, but whenever he touched upon that subject, irritable and insufferable he did become. The blueprint he was inscribing runes onto wasn't helping him either.

And the Devilite was about to tear up the parchment in frustration when a persistent rapping on the door broke him from his trance.
The short little fiend, on a pair of stubby legs, almost gracefully dashed towards the door, and opened it. To his surprise, his Pit Boss, Saul, stood over him like the hefty worker he had always been. Constantine hadn't done anything wrong, had he?

"...h-hello sir...is there anything you need me to d-do?" asked Constantine.

"A-ah, yes...yes...I-I'd like to retrieve all your blueprints now," Saul stuttered back.

Wait...he only just started, and he was sure he was 10 days ahead the deadline...

Constantine nodded, and darted to the blueprints, when he heard a loud slam. A chill tingled up the Devilite's spine, and when he turned around, a pair of ghastly blue eyes met back at him from the darkness of outside. Saul was on the floor with a large bruise on his skull.

A Knight?! What's he here fo-

Just as Constantine tried to roll up the blueprints, he instinctively jumped off to the side as a massive blade was tossed at his face, and as he tried to recuperate himself, he saw the hunk of iron slither back into the shadows, and the rattle of chains entered his ears. A loud screech from the darkness erupted in a cacophonous din, but was immediately silenced after.

The blueprints, he saw as his knees buckled and dropped, were picked up by something he couldn't see...but that made no sense...
When he fell to the floor, he realized his torso felt prickly, and when he looked, he found himself full of quills like an inkwell. And he lost consciousness...

New story added today.

“Me am sorry, me am very very sorry,” said the gremlin Minister of Mayhem as he cowered low with his hands covering his head.

“Stop apologizing already!” said the Dragon Princess. “Help us think of a way out of here instead.”

“His thoughts are rarely coherent enough for us to understand anyway,” said the Arcane Enchantress

“True,” agreed the dp. “Grrrrrr,” the Dragon Princess said in frustration. “I can’t believe I let Capt. Ozlo talk us into taking this crazy mission. I mean, look at this crazy message you sent him. What’s it all supposed to mean anyway?”

She pulled this message up on her com unit.

“. . . Well I'm trying to tell you about a thing I thought I saw
It came to me in a dream one night
When a voice began to call
I heard my name being summoned as I looked around to see
A hooded judge and jury of Apocrea.

There was no mercy there for me
Well I can't make it, I just can't figure it out
This dream is drivin' me crazy
I gotta know what it's all about
The mark is upon me - the mark of fear.

A cold wind's blowin' right down my back
I'm runnin, I'm runnin' from a figure that's dressed in black
I think my legs are made out of lead
Cause I'm runnin' but I'm going nowhere
The bad dream is coming closer and closer
I got a feelin' he'll always be there.

Forever is a long time to spend in agony
And the demons of confusion have got a place for me
The mark is upon me, and the mark brings fear.

I was tired, so tired of runnin'
I had to turn and look around
I saw eyes that looked right through me
And a voice that made no sound
My body froze and I stood and stared, unearthly face before me
From the depths of a hooded nightmare, I saw what could not be
Mysteries and mayhem from the pinnacle I see
There's no answer when there's no question
The mark of fear bears hard on me . . .

Save me, come save me, I can’t take no more.”

“Bad hooded creature come. Make us hide. Thank you, Princess, me thanks you so much for saving me,” said the minister.

“Well, we got you out of the Crimson Order’s clutches, but the Apocrean creatures are still hot on our trail,” said the Dragon Princess.

“We could try a stun spell. Perhaps that would confuse them enough to allow us to escape,” suggested the Arcane Enchantress.

“It’s worth a try, I guess,” said the Dragon Princess.

“The only problem is we’ll have to let them get close enough so that I can hit them with the spell,” said the arc.

“No problem,” said the Dragon Princess. “We’ll send the Minister of Mayhem out as a decoy.”

“Me no go! Me no go! Hood man is very bad. Steal you soul – very, very bad,” howled the gremlin.

The Dragon Princess sighed heavily. “Fine, I’ll do it, but you lay down some cover fire while I’m exposed,” she order the gremlin. He whimpered but nodded.

Later, the Dragon Princess awoke with a sneeze as the gremlin gently rubbed her nose with his tail.

“What the-? Get that tail out of my face,” winced the Dragon Princess.

“You okay, princess, You okay, me so happy you okay,” smiled the gremlin.

“Yes, yes, me so happy I’m okay, too, but what happened?” asked the Dragon Princess.

“I’m afraid my spell radius was wider and more powerful than I anticipated,” said the Arcane Enchantress with a sheepish smile. "It hit you, too, but the gremlin carried you to safety.”

“Well, we all made it back safely – that’s what matters. You can make it up to me later,” winked the Dragon Princess to her friend, who responded with a big knowing smile.

Captain Ozlo was delighted to see the three of them when they arrived at Spiral HQ. The message he had received had appeared to be from the Crimson Order’s head of Chaos and Mayhem section – a section whose very existence the Spiral Order had only suspected but never confirmed. Now its leading gremlin had been rescued by two of his most reliable knights. As far as Capt. Ozlo could make out, the Apocrea creatures were taking their toll on the gremlins as well. He was excited about the new possibilities for cooperation with some former enemies.

“Wonderful! Excellent job, knights!” beamed Capt. Ozlo. “I’ll make sure there’s a nice reward of furnishings for you waiting back in your guild hall.”

“He’s all yours now, Captain. You may not be so pleased after spending some time with him, though” commented the Dragon Princess.

“Me good gremlin. Me make everyone happy, happy, happy. Hot fudge sundaes, please, please, for everyone!”

“That’s the first good idea I’ve heard from him,” laughed the Arcane Enchantress.

They all laughed together, but somewhere . . . a hooded figure was waiting in the shadows.

The End

Treasure Vault can be fun, huh.

Mission to Save the Lost Souls of Apocrea (and a title gets passed on)

Death is a Transformation she thought to herself. It is an end and a beginning. And in every beginning, there is something magical.

These thoughts raced over and over through the knight Mayaura’s head as she drew ragged breaths and raced through the darkness which clung to her like a death shroud. She had vital information for Spiral HQ concerning the lost souls and the Hidden Ones of the Apocrea, but could she live long enough to get it to them?

She knew she could not run on much longer. Her iron dragon mail was torn and bleeding in several places, like an old cloth banner that has been drenched and torn by a storm. Her communicator had been smashed by a Harvester of souls. She had no means of contacting Spiral HQ directly and her chances of making it back were nearly as dim as the darkness that seemed to reach out and wrap her in its deathly embrace.

The beautiful souls, oh, those lost bright swarming souls trapped in the yawning madness of Apocrean night, she knew now where they were coming from and what they were. She could feel their longing for rebirth, feel their potential in the seed of new life that they carried. But could they be saved?

The journal that had been recovered from the journal of Prof. Allister Danford, Dean of Antiquities hinted at the terrible truth – a truth she had confirmed. But how could she get it back to those who needed it?

She could run no more. She was at the end of her strength and her pursuers would be upon her soon and she would become one of the Lost Souls. For that is what she had discovered – that the Lost Souls were knights from the Spiral World!

If her death were a forgone conclusion, then she would use it to send a psychic message to her sister. She knelt and quieted her spirit. Conjuring in her mind a clear message, she powered it with the last remaining strength within her to propel it across the dimensions separating her from her sister. As her final breath fled gently from her body, she hoped it had been enough. The afterlife of thousands of Spiral souls depended on it.

************************************************************

Mawashimono, the Dragon Princess, cried out in pain as a psychic wave crashed into her mind. An image of her only sister, Mayaura, whom she had not seen for several years, came clearly into her mind, and along with it a message. The Dragon Princess was unable to move, except for violent trembling as she heard and felt her sister’s final message of hope and sadness.

When her weeping had finally ceased and she was able to regain some composure, she knew what she had to do. Although Mawashimono had left active service in the corps a few years back, she knew she would have to go back in. The knowledge of the identity of the Lost Souls on Apocrea would not let her rest until she had freed her sister and the other lost souls from that fate.

She went home and geared up for this mission. While packing she considered who she would ask to join her in the lethal quest. She immediately thought of Gunicide for his expert long-range marksmanship. Her second pick was Enforcer, a force of nature with swords who could do more damage more quickly than any knight she had ever fought beside. Finally, she knew the team needed a thinker who could guide them through the theological nightmare they were about to enter. Professor Thought-Process would be an excellent choice.

************************************************************

When she reached the office of the Director of Spiral Headquarters, she was shocked by Lt. Feron’s appearance. He had visibly aged with gray streaks in his hair and a slump of defeat in his posture like a half melted snowman. His smile was bittersweet as he saw the Dragon Princess walk into his office.

“Mawashimono! It’s so good to see you again. It’s been far too long,” he said.

“Lt. Feron, you are looking . . .” She couldn’t say “good” since it would be an obvious lie. “. . . as hearty as ever,” she finished lamely. “My sister . . .” she began, but was interrupted by a sob.

Lt Feron stood up. “You have news of Mayaura?”

She fought back her tears. “She . . . She didn’t make it. But she got word to me via our psychic bond. I know what the lost souls of Apocrea are,” she stated.

“Is it as we feared?” he asked.

“You suspected they were spiral knights who had passed on?” she queried.

“Suspected, yes, and dreaded that possibility,” he replied, unable to meet Mawashimono’s eyes, he continued on. “The seed at the center of the souls mirrored something we had seen back on our home world. Your sister volunteered to be part of a scouting team. Unfortunately, none of them made it back. But, I see now at least your sister got a message to you before she died. What will you do?”

“I think you know what I’m going to do,” she responded. “And I’ve already thought of a team to do it with.”

“We’ll give you whatever support you need,” nodded Lt. Feron. “And my prayers for the souls of our warriors go with you.”

Mawashimono strode into Gunicide’s quarters and found him sharpening a blade with long, loving strokes.

“Dragon Princess. What drags you to this part of the kingdom?” he said with a relaxed posture. “Not another mission, I hope. I nearly didn’t make it back from the last one,” he smirked.

“Oh, you love the danger and adventure, and you know it,” she smiled back while sinking into a comfortable armchair.

“That I do,” he conceded. “But your adventures are more dangerous than most,” he chuckled.

She stopped smiling. “My sister, Mayaura, died on Apocrea.”

“Oh. Oh, no. I’m so sorry to hear that,” he said somberly.

“I may not have lost her completely yet, though,” continued the Mawashimono.

“I don’t follow,” said Gunicide with furrowed brows.

“The Lost Souls of Apocrea are dead knights. My sister’s one of them. She got a message to me through our psychic bond before she died. I think there might be a way to save those souls, or at least, I hope there is. But I need your help.”

“Of course, Princess, it’d be an honor to fight alongside you for such a cause.”

“And I’d like that destructive force of nature – The Enforcer – along with us. I’m gonna need that kind of strength,” said Dragon Princess. “Could you recruit him for the mission?”

“Consider it a done deal,” said Gunicide.

**********************************************************

Invading Apocrea was not hard; any knight could do it for the valuable rewards it offered. Surviving it was the hard part. But this team was after the most valuable prize itself – life – or more accurately, after-life for those brave warriors who had perished in battle. Apocrea was a Valhalla of sorts.

As the team materialized in the realm of Apocrea, they felt the oppressive darkness like a heavy weight on their shoulders. The strange noises and clicks of the Harvesters seemed designed to disorient and dishearten the knights.

“There is a mystical safe zone somewhere near the heart of this zone,” Mawashimono shouted over the din. “It’s there we’ll find the answers we’re looking for. Let’s move out!”

Enforcer took point with Gunicide bring supports from the rear. Mawashimono was distracted by the souls that floated around them. She couldn’t help but search for some sign of her sister. Her inattentiveness nearly cost her a life. Fortunately, her teammates were there to provide her with cover.

At last, they reached the mystical safe zone. There, they found some surprising rock formations with spiritual implications. Thought-Process ruminated on its theology. “I’ve found something most enlightening. Most of these stones are made of obsidian, which we all know from GoT is the only things capable of killing the undead. Or err, rather, ending them, or stopping them. I’m not really sure of the terminology.”

The Dragon Princess shared a sideways glance with her teammates at the Professor’s obscure references.

“Anyway,” he continued on, “a few of these stones are not obsidian but are rather Echo Stones!” he exulted, smiling broadly at his team. They looked back at him with blank to confused expressions.

“Well, don’t you see? No, no, I can see from your faces that you do not, in fact, see at all. Let me explain,” he said rubbing his forehead.

“Yeah, Prof. Please enlighten us,” said Gunicide.

“Well, you see, Echo Stones are a smooth, white stone that we recover in the Sanctuary. Recover implies we have lost them, that they are, in fact, connected to the Lost Souls of Apocrea. When you hold an Echo Stone, you hear voice within your mind. The voice refers to a swarm or a legion, which we assumed was the Swarm in the Unknown Passage, but what if it’s not?”

“Are you saying the swarm might be the souls of the dead knights?” asked Mawashimono.

“Yes, yes, that’s right. One of the messages we’ve deciphered from the Echo Stones goes something like this – ‘WITHIN MY DREAM I SEE YOUR LEGION FALLING TO THIS WORLD LIKE BURNING STARS.
YOU FALL WITH PURPOSE, BURNING EVER BRIGHTER AS YOU REACH FOR THE HEART OF THIS WORLD.’ I believe ‘this world’ refers to Apocrea, and that, in fact, Echo Stones come from here,” explained Thought-Process.

“So,” said Enforcer, thinking strategically, “What good does that information do us?”

“Well, there’s more to the message,” said the Professor. “It also says – ‘HOLD DEARLY THIS FIRE IN YOU, FOR DARKNESS WILL CONSUME ALL THE NIGHT IF ITS STARS BEGIN TO FADE.’ I now believes that the souls of the knights are the ‘stars’. What I’m not sure about is how we ‘HOLD DEARLY THIS FIRE IN YOU’.”

“Don’t the stones also talk about – ‘MEMORIES OF THE DEAD... THE HEARTS OF KINGS AND THE SOULS OF THEIR PEOPLE’,” asked Mayaura.

“Yes, and that’s further confirmation of my theory regarding the nature of these lights,” said the Professor

“So again, I gotta ask,” said Enforcer, “What good does this knowledge do us? How can we save the Lost Souls of our fallen comrades?”

“It is my belief that the key is in somehow holding the fire within us, but I’m not sure how that would be done,” said the Professor.

“I have an idea about,” said the Dragon Princess. “We dragons have a ritual. You see, we are not born with the ability to breathe fire. It requires an initiation ceremony at puberty. We swallow a fire stone, which germinates inside us, birthing within us the power to breathe fire.”

“How would that help the lost souls, though?” asked Gunicide.

“Dragons can make obsidian with our fire. I think the echo stones can be transformed as well, perhaps fashioned into a gateway,” said the Dragon Princess.

“Yes,” concurred the Professor. “It could be that the Mawashimono could provide that mystical forging power through her flame,” postulated the Professor.

“Well, let’s give it a try,” said Mawashimono.

They shaped the echo stones into a portal. All it needed was the fire from within to activate it.

“Once Mawashimono has forged the portal together, the echo stones will resonate with a counter-balance to the noise of Apocrea. It should draw all the Lost Souls here and transport them back to our world.” explained the Professor.

“What will happen to them there?” asked Mawashimono, anxious over the fate of her sister’s soul.

“I . . ., well, I believe . . . that is, I think some will be reborn. Other may choose not to return and move on to another level of existence. But at least they’ll be freed from this cursed darkness,” said the Professor.

The Dragon Princess swallowed a stone, belched once, then seemed to vomit a fiery lava over the portal stones, bonding it together. Even though the portal was complete, however, the Lost Souls paid it no heed.

“Hmm, it seems we need something to draw them here,” said Prof. Thought-Process.

“I’ll try to contact my sister,” said Mawashimono.

“That might not be a wise course of action. If you even can, then, by all means, but be very careful.” warned the Professor. “We do not know what the effects might be.”

The Dragon Princess fell into a deep mediation as she reached out to her departed sister Mayaura.

“Mawashimono? Is that you, sis?” asked Mayaura.

“Yes, it’s me, Mayaura. I’ve come to save you,” replied Mawashimono.

“Oh, I don’t think that’s possible, sis. It’s kind of a one-way trip,” said Mayaura.

“I’m not gonna try to bring you back,” said Mawashimono. “I want to come joined my beloved Lionheart finally, and be reunited with him. Switch with me, sister.”

“Oh, sis. Is that really what you want?” asked Mayaura.

“Yes, with all my heart,” responded Mawashimono. And with that, they switched. The psychic echo rippled outward, catching the attention of the Lost Souls and drawing them into the portal.

Mayaura opened her eyes to find herself looking up into the shocked faces of her companions.

“What happened to Mawashimono?” asked Gunicide.

“She . . . she asked me to switch with her, so I did,” explained Mayaura.

“Hmph. Didn’t know that was possible. Well, I think I just found the topic of my next book,” said the Professor.

*******************************************************************************************

Mayaura walked into the Spiral HQ alive and well, much to the shock of Lt. Feron.

“Mayaura! I thought you had perished on Apocrea. Your sister, the Dragon Princess, went after you. Did she find you alive after all? Well, I mean, of course she did. I can see that by looking at you.” Lt. Feron was flabbergasted and sensed he was blabbering, so he shut his mouth with an audible click of his teeth.

“She found me, but not alive and well. I had . . .” she decided not to say “died” but rather said “. . . been transformed. And I was transformed again by my sister, Mawshimono. She has passed beyond the veil now.”

“Will . . . will she return someday?” asked Lt. Feron.

“It’s possible, but I think not. We’ll see, I suppose. Many who have passed on can return now that she has created the portal.”

“The portal?” asked Lt. Feron.

“Well, it’s hard to explain. And I think Professor Thought-Process can do a better job of it,” she smiled, revealing a startling number of sharp, gleaming teeth. “Anyway, it’s very good to be back. I hope I can live up to the title of Dragon Princess as well as my sister did.”