1293: Fire Emblem: ReAwaken – Chapter Eleven

Title: Fire Emblem: ReAwaken
Author: MaesterDimentio
Media: Video Game
Topic: Fire Emblem
Genre: Adventure/Fantasy
URL: Chapter 11
Critiqued by Herr Wozzeck, Sterling Bengtzing, Agundio Atti-Morales, and Crunchy Raptor

Agundio Atti-Morales: Should I be aware of who you are?

Um… not really?

Crunchy: Oh, truly parrot, how do you expect to—?

Sterling Bengtzing: Shut up, newt… Okay, what the fuck is going on!? First I’m dropped in here, now you’re here too, Nun? What the hell is this?

AAM: I haven’t the slightest idea, Sterling. Though I must say, it is refreshing to see you here. It is—

Oh, never mind all that! Crunchy, what happened?

C: I imagine it was the ninjas again.

SB: I take they cause shit every so often, no?

Which is funny, ‘cause usually they’re not that into doing that. Whatever…

AAM: So… What were you all doing?

SB: Makin’ fun of bad nerd fanfiction bullshot. Or we were, before you drug-tripped your ass in here too.

AAM: Making fun of bad… That seems rather pointless, no?

Oh ho ho ho ho! C’mere, Aggie: sit down, and let me introduce you to a whole new world.

So folks, to catch you up to speed… Well, let me introduce you to Agundio Salvatore Atti-Morales.

There he be. (Art by Pac.)

Agundio is a Cuban black hawk/common kestrel hybrid currently playing as a Power Forward for the Lorain Firestorm. He’s… an interesting case, given he’s one of the few hybrids in good health in the FBA.

C: I thought hybrids were a popular concept in furry circles.

AAM: I am afraid it is not so in our world. See, in our world, hybrids are prone to genetic problems, so we do not see them very often, if at all.

Yeah, the FBA isn’t like most furry circles in that regard, and some of the contributors have actually had fights over the issue, too. Very, very, very contentious fights. Anyway, Agundio is in very good health, but that meant he got some bullies on his ass. Of course, thanks to the power of the Lord, he got over that.

C: Then all that ‘nun’ business the polecat spoke of…

AAM: My major in college was in Theology, mostly because the Word of God was a great help in those younger days.

SB: Didn’t stop him from being a decent, though. Or from being half-bird, half fucking nuts.

Yeah. Agundio is essentially a sweetheart, but he does sometimes get into antics given his wish to please everyone he can. Including some brushes with Sterling.

AAM: We did have our disagreements at first, but Sterling is rather alright. He is rough, but there is good in his heart.

SB: And Mother Theresa here is learnin’. Still falls for some basic bullshit, but whatever.

C: That is all fine and well, but whose character is he?

… And that’s why it gets awkward…

SB: Wait… You… him?

Uh… maybe?

AAM: Oh. Um… I see…

SB: Wait, what is this crap? You created—what? Nun, did he fuck your mom?

Well, Sterling, sometimes our characters wind up in the Library, because reasons.

SB: But that means you have to bring us in here!

AAM: Oh…

SB: What the fuck? I’m missing practice because of you! And you’re blaming it on the ninjas and throwing confusing-ass shit at me! Why the fuck would you—?

Look, if we spent all day talking about it, we’d be here forever, so let’s go back to Kale here and we’ll work out the impending existential crisis later, okay? Anyway, there’s Agundio, the sweetheart Bible man. Back to Kale.

AAM: Kale? Is that not one of Tryce’s friends, Sterling?

SB: Believe me, I asked the same thing. But no, this ain’t the same guy. This guy is basic enough to put all the basics in the FBA to shame.

C: And that is precisely why we are not beginning with Kale this week:

“Perhaps…” a voice rasped from behind. “…for a price.”

SB: Oh goodie, we get to start with the guy newt’s got his panties in a twist about.

C: Be quiet polecat, I do not own panties!

Oh really? Your cosplay as Dr. Franke-N-Furter said otherwise.

C: I—that was different!

SB: *gets oPhone and starts recording* Say more?

C: Be quiet, polecat, or—

AAM: Now, now, you two, please. There is no need for such antagonism, now, is there?

C: I am an Awesome McEvil, of course there is a need for antagonism!

Especially considering this is his favorite character we’re talking about here. Which is why, of course…

Everyone present immediately tensed up, Marco especially as his eyes landed on the cloaked figure that had suddenly appeared from, as far as he could tell, absolutely nowhere.

…it’s in Marco’s point of view. Technically speaking.

C: Oh good. At least the lackey will not retain the spotlight for long.

He’d been staring at their captor, every fiber of his being wanting to tear apart the man for speaking his name aloud, when the voice spoke. There was no mistaking who it was, not with a voice like that: somehow, the masked mage had appeared again.

Oh yay, more overpowered shenanigans.

C: I will take comfort in the fact that the lackey shall remain a lackey.

AAM: Why are you speaking about evil in such a way? It’s rather odd that—

SB: Don’t worry ‘bout the lizard, Aggie. It’s just how he plays pretend.

C: I will have him know that I am a Sith velociraptor!

AAM: A Sith? Hm. That explains quite a bit, actually. I never thought I would meet one, but there it is.

C: See, that—wait, how do you know what a Sith is?

AAM: Just because I am a theology major does not mean I have no other interests. My younger brother quite likes Star Wars, so of course I do not mind watching it.

Yep, that’s Aggie. Religious, but always surprising you.

Anyway, Crunchy, you said he would remain a lackey, right?

C: Yes. What of it?


After being warned that they would likely encounter this monster again, Marco wasn’t greatly surprised by his appearance. What did greatly surprise him was his captor’s reaction: his face had turned dark and angry from the mere sound of the mage’s voice.

“You…” Randell hissed through gritted teeth, as his hand crept to his sword. “Just what the hell is it that you want, demon?” He suddenly spun around, unsheathing his sword and aiming for the man’s neck, only for it to be intercepted by a large, black gauntlet. At the same moment, a pair of red tipped arrows flew out of the forestry and struck him: one grazing his cheek and drawing blood while the other struck his sword, knocking it from his grasp. His hand immediately flew to his cheek as the men around the camp began to whisper amongst themselves, fear quickly spreading at the sight of the newest arrivals. “Damn you and your pets…” he muttered, pulling his hand away to see his palm coated red.

C: Wait, so the lackey does not serve the overpowered mage.

SB: Don’t look like it.

C: And yet the mage might command an army?

Looks like it.

C: Ah. Things are beginning to look up now.

The mage just laughed harshly as he motioned for his knight ally to step behind him. The armored titan did so before kneeling on one knee behind to its master. “Come now, Randell. Did you truly think I would be so foolish as to not have an ally or three with me whenever I come near one of Plegia’s camps? I know exactly how everyone of your people despise me.” He paused to look around the camp, slowly staring down each and every man in it. “And yet, you are all too cowardly to even dare step forwards to harm me. I can tell that you are of Plegia’s highest caliber.” he said in a condescending tone.

C: Thank you, I am glad that someone understands the lackey as being little more than a lackey. After everything I have witnessed with this character, that at least is refreshing.

To a point.

AAM: To a point?

Am I the only one who thinks Kale might kick this overpowered mage’s ass with that sword he found in the last chapter?

AAM: What are you speaking of?

SB: *sigh* Of some serious bull, nun. Let me catch you up on all the shit so far…

AAM: O-oh, of course. *leaves with Sterling*

C: Strange. The polecat is not antagonized by the one with the spotted neck?

Well, Agundio has the patience of a saint *no pun intended*, so that helps him out a lot. But anyway, that’s not important.

A random mook then comes out and threatens overpowered mage guy, before Randell the Lackey tries to stop him. Of course…

It was too late: before the man could even register it, the knight had moved in front of his path. With its massive hands, it grabbed his head and lifted him off of the ground. What sounded like a deep rumble came from the suit of armor as the man screamed in pain, the sound of breaking bone barely audible as the knight slowly crushed the man’s skull until-

“Myra, don’t look!” Marco shouted. His sister turned her head and shut her eyes just as a sickening squish signaled the man’s death. Without even a second’s hesitation, the knight threw the mutilated corpse in front of the other men before going back to kneel down behind the mage. That was… beyond sick. To make a man suffer like that, you’d have to be a real monster.

So apparently… something that’s roughly equivalent to this:

…is acceptable in this:

C: It makes sense to me.

Yeah really. I mean, I know I’ve been saying extra gore is expected in real life, but come on! I think the line is drawn at crushing skulls with your bare hands!

The mage looked towards the body and simply shrugged, as though it was the most trivial of things. “As I said, of the highest caliber. Which is why I come to offer my aid in your upcoming-”

“I’d sooner eat my own sword.” Randell spat, kneeling down to retrieve said weapon from the ground. “You call yourself a man of Plegia, and yet you’re nothing more than a Grimleal. No, I take that back: you’re a nightmare of a Grimleal, sent by that damned beast itself to torment us.” He leveled his sword at the mage, his eyes narrowing. The knight made a movement to defend its ally, only to stop as the mage gave a quick flick of its hand. “Now, get out of my camp and away from my men. We won’t be requiring any of your help.”

C: And immediately, I want this mage to show this lackey the true meaning of evil. Such speechifying shows he is only a lackey!

Well, it’s hardly that evil, is the thing.

C: Exactly! It is hardly the speech you would see such an overblown Awesome McEvil give! Come now, you cannot tell me such a thing would come from one of such pedigree as—

AAM: *re-enters with Sterling* I am sure he is not that bad.

SB: I know that’s your ‘see good in everyone’ kinda bullshit, but you’ll see I’m right.

So he’s up to date?

SB: Yep.

Awesome, let’s continue.

The overpowered mage then says he’s all “here’s hoping nothing goes wrong”. He then leaves, and then Randell the Lackey is all “dig this guy a grave”. He then turns to Marco and the others and is all “guess what, bitches, you’re my hostages and I’ll kill you on the spot”. Of course…

Especially you,” he said, pointing at Marco who merely glares back, “, you damn traitor.”

“Whoa wait, what?” Garrett suddenly spoke up, looking between Marco and their captor. “Marco, how the hell does this guy know you and why is he calling you a traitor? Is there something that you and Myra haven’t been telling us or something?”

SB: Let me guess: something that can’t be revealed now or it’ll spoil the surprise. Spoiler: Surprise is more basic shit.

AAM: Would that really be a justifiable reason to hide something?

In the world of bad fanfiction? Yes, Agundio. Yes it would.

Randell is then all “I’ll let Marco explain,” before Marco is all “fine, I need to tell you about Myra and myself. Of course, in typical badfic fashion, we get a line break.

SB: Knew it.

C: I must admit, you are getting quite good. Are you certain you cannot stay around?

AAM: Alas, there is an FBA team that needs him. And aside from that, I do not think it would be healthy for him to stay in this place.

SB: Ja. Fun as this is, there’s only one thing I was meant to do, and that was play basketball.

Anyway, back to Kale, yes?

SB: And besides, we have to put up with this jackass again. I can’t handle that for eternity.

“Please (bam) stop (bam) kicking (bam) me (bam) Kale!”



AAM: Oh, come now, that is not very nice!

He stole my onomatopoeia! Again! And he used onomatopoeia, too! That’s a double-whammy!

AAM: But it does not garner the use of… that, does it?

SB: Leave it, nun, nerd rage around here is extra serious. *whispers* These guys are too fucking pent up…

Alright, fine. Panting, I take a step back from the prone figure of… what was his name… oh, Albert. Yeah, the idiot cavalier who decided to charge out of the front door of a mansion that was under siege. Apparently, he really sucks at doing his job at fighting. After he jumped me, or at least, jumped at me, all it took for me to get him off of me was a quick shove. The kicks, while probably unnecessary, felt good however. Albert, the moral of this story is simple: try and jump me and I’ll kick the ever-loving shit out of you.

SB: Looks like the king of the basics is as amazing as ever.

C: Indeed.

Anyway, Kale asks what the hell is wrong with Albert, before Albert then throws his running like a coward back in Kale’s face. Of course, instead of this leading into a deep character moment…

He suddenly lunges for me- seriously, we’re doing this again? I just step to the side and try to suppress a laugh as he crashes back to the ground, mumbling something that sounds like “Again?!”

Ignoring him and the stares of the clearly confused Libra and Daven, I quickly stride through the door leading to the infirmary. Wow, even in Fire Emblem these places smell like antiseptic. Even in alternate dimensions, I suppose some things stay the same.

Because character development is for pussies, apparently.

Anyway, Kale then recognizes Krysta, before begging Libra to help Krysta. He agrees to do so, but …

“I promise to do everything within my power in order to help her Kale, but right now, you need to go back to your room and rest.” He holds up a hand as I open my mouth to protest. “While your help could be valuable, you’re clearly in distress. In your state, you’d likely cause more harm for her than good. Please, for her sake and yours, go and rest.”

he’s right. If I start acting panicky, I’ll just hurt her.

AAM: He will hurt her… by acting overly panicky.


AAM: But why does that require him to rest? I should think that simply removing him from the room would be enough.

C: Hm, the songbird brings up a good point.

AAM: Songbird?

C: Of course. Do you not sing?

AAM: Well… I do not. If you want to speak to the singer in my family, you’ll need to talk to my sister Maria Jorgina. You can also talk to her boyfriend Mikhail, who—

C: Damn it, thwarted! And by a sibling!


Anyway, we then get a long rambling about:

I nod, though I can’t hide the pain on my face. I’ve always been this way, unable to just sit back and let my friends get hurt or stay sick. I’ve always been the first one to send the ‘get better soon’ cards and I’ve lost count of how many times my friends have gotten mad at me for ‘acting like their mom.’ I guess the same applies to this world, even if I’ve only known Krysta for… what, a week? Maybe fighting together really does forge stronger bonds.

SB: And yet you ran from a battle in which your supposed friends were in danger of dying because you couldn’t be a man. I keep thinking I’ve seen just how bad a ‘friend’ he can be, and yet he keeps on piling the shit up and up.

C: I am afraid that is rather a recurring theme in bad fanfiction. As soon as you think you have solved everything, something else comes and proves you wrong.

Anyway, Kale says he understands, and then he turns to leave. As he does…

Exiting the infirmary, I see Albert’s gotten back up and- what the fuck dude, stop trying to tackle m- oh, thanks Daven. “Daven, can you please keep him as far away from me as possible for the time being? I’ve got a lot on my mind right now and I don’t care to keep getting attacked.”

“Hey, no problem.” he says, tightening his grip around Albert’s waist as the idiot tries to break free.

AAM: Hold. Sterling mentioned that Kale endangered the lives of his friends, and that Albert feels very strongly about the death of his commander, no?

C: Yes.

AAM: So he is simply angry that this person’s actions resulted in the death of his commander.


AAM: And we’re supposed to think Albert is overreacting to that fact?

SB: Ja.

AAM: … Why? He is simply expressing anger, and is anger that is justified by the story, no?


Take a fucking chill pill… Good Lord… “Alright, either you quit this or I’m going to throw you off the nearest balcony, got it?” Daven snaps as his captive kicks his shin.

“Just tell me this: why?” Albert asks, though it almost sounds like he’s demanding me to answer. He locks eyes with me as he stops thrashing about. “Why did Commander Rorik bother saving you? Why do your friends care so much about finding you? What the hell makes you so special?! You’re a damned coward, running from-”



Stop–*BAM*–stealing–*BAM*–my–*BAM*–god–*BAM*–damned–*BAM*SOUND EFFECTS!

AAM: Please, sir, don’t take the Lord’s name in vain! What do you hope to accomplish by hitting that book, anyway?

SB: Makes him feel better or some shit. I don’t know; is anyone else annoyed by how Einstein here is trying to make it look like he’s right even though this other motherfucker has a point?

Yeah. Looks like the conversation Daven, Libra, and Kale had last chapter about the subject of trying to make up for your sins was just randomly forgotten or some shit, because this does not look like the kind of thing a man who’s sorry for what he’s done would do.

“Just shut the hell up…” I mutter, rubbing my knuckles from where I punched him in the jaw. I feel bad about it, to be honest, considering I’ve kicked him repeatedly already but… Fuck it, I’m just sick of him running his mouth. “You think I don’t know I’m a coward? You think I’m happy with myself for running away? For being the reason that Rorik is dead?” I’m shaking at this point, though I can’t honestly say whether it’s from anger or sadness. Before he has a chance to reply, I whirl around and sprint away, not bothering to listen to Daven crying for me to come back.

And then when he does talk about it, it’s in an incredibly backhanded way. I know that you can ask the questions Kale is asking here in a way where it doesn’t come off that way, but I think Kale is just bad at that.

SB: Combine that with the constant self-pity party…

AAM: I see. It does sound like quite the insincere apology. I can understand why he is… um… what Sterling calls him.

You don’t say.

Anyway, we get a line break, and then cut back to Randell.

“Hey, Dune Guy!” a voice cried out over the tents. Randell, having just finished his dinner, stood from the circle where several of his men had been preparing for the morning’s attack with him. Frowning, and slightly worried that the cries might alert someone, he quickly made his way over to where the prisoners were being held. One of them, the large man in the red armor who had been carrying an axe, was thrashing against his bonds, though he stopped as he spotted Randell. “Yeah, you! Hey, get over here! I’ve got a proposition for ya!”

SB: Herrejävlar

He better not be doing what I think he is.

The swordsman quickly took in the situation, his eyes catching the small details of each of the captives: the young girl with the white hair was crying, her eyes closed as small sobs escaped her mouth, the girl in the bodysuit was glaring at their companion with contempt, and Marcellus du Plegios was hanging his head, his eyes closed. Something was clearly off and he was curious as to what it was. “A proposition? Do you really think that you’re in any sort of position to be offering me a proposition?” He motioned at the other three with his hand. “And what’s wrong with them? They look like you just killed someone close to them.”

“No, but that would be a mercy considering what his vile proposition is.” the girl in the bodysuit spat, turning her gaze from the man.

Oh, fuck me, it is, isn’t it?

“Aw, shut you’re mouth.” he snapped, craning his neck to look at her. “I’m doing what any smart man would do in my position, especially after he’s just found out that the two people he’s been travelling with have been keeping such a big secret from him. You’re an idiot for actually wanting to stay with these two after what they told us!” Looking back towards Randell, he gave him a thin smile. “You see, I’m wanting in.”

AAM: A traitor? Sterling, I thought you told me this guy was one of the few tolerable people in this fic.

SB: Apparently, now is not. What the fuck?

C: Why would you turn on your friends for the damned lackey!?

Because the plot demands it?

C: Yes, but forget that. Why pledge to the lackey, of all people? There are plenty of others you can turn to, and this is the last one you should think of!

AAM: Isn’t it more a question of loyalty than of whom you turn to?

C: Never! Not when an Awesome McEvil is involved!

The Plegian merely cocked an eyebrow. “You want in? Ha. Do you actually expect me to believe you’d betray your friends, your allies, so easily?” He quickly shook his head from side-to-side. “You must think I was born yesterday. What kind of man would sever ties with his companions?”

C: A cur with no character, that is whom.

Garrett just laughed. “Try a man who’s had it done to him before. I used to run with a bandit gang here in Ylisse until they decided to dump me outside a village and let the yokels living there try and gut me. I ran with them for years and they just stabbed me in the back like that!” He kicked the post with one of his feet for emphasis, anger boiling up in his eyes. “All I could think about while those hicks were getting ready to string me up was getting revenge. And then these two came along with their friend.” He gestured at Marco and Myra with his chin. “This idiot gave me a chance to get my revenge and I took it. Gods, did it feel good, but a man who’s lived a life of violence tends to want to go back to being violent, ya know?”

“And this matters to me how?

“Easy, easy, I’m getting there. Look, the reason I managed to stay with those guys for so long is because I was one of, if not the, deadliest man in that entire group.” He sneered. “They started calling me ‘Garrett the Savage’ for a reason. You let me go, and I promise on my life that I’ll show you just what that reason is.” He let out a bitter chuckle and looked at the ground. “Hell, its not like I have any reason not to join up with you and your lot.”

AAM: What the true proverb says has happened to them: “The dog returns to its own vomit, and the sow, after washing herself, returns to wallow in the mire.”

SB: Y’all fellas are gonna love this. Give him a nickel and he’ll quote the bible for ya. Is a constant thing.

AAM: Well, Sterling, you know how I am.

C: So let me be sure I am correct here: Garrett’s whole reason to betray the group is because he feels the need to be violent?

Yeah, why the fuck would you need to be that? I get that oftentimes violent people feel the need to stay violent, and that dangerously toeing the line between violent and non-violent makes for great fiction. (See: Unforgiven.) But this is a little on the nose, don’t you think? I’m pretty sure that most people who are caught between the world they used to know and the world they want to reform into generally don’t perform Face-Heel Turns out of the blue.

AAM: What reason would he have for turning on his friends, anyway?

SB: Yeah, what the fuck is up with that? The guy wants to be violent, and he’ll turn his back on his friends? Hope the fucker realizes this makes him just as bad as his old boss.

Pretty much. So then Randell is all “you know what? Sure, but first you gotta rough up Marco a bit to prove your loyalty”. Of course…

Garrett just grinned and cracked his knuckles as he turned and advanced towards his old ally. “With pleasure.” Without warning, he suddenly buried his fist in Marco’s stomach, causing him to double over in pain, only for his head to shoot up as Garrett’s knee struck him in the face. Myra screamed for him to stop, tears running down her face, and Genevieve just looked away, closing her eyes and flinching at the sound of every blow. After a few moments, Garrett stopped his assault and grabbed Marco by the chin, bringing his face close to his. “This is what you get for being a lying bastard!” With a savage yell, he slammed Marco’s head back into the wooden post.

So Garrett’s angry about some secret Marco has kept from him. I’m going to give this fic the benefit of the doubt and assume that this is some secret that genuinely could have caused Garrett some real physical pain.

SB: Otherwise, he a fruitcake?

Yep. That, or he’s planning on stabbing Randell in the back. Which might happen too, but I’m not holding my breath.

Anyway, Randell welcomes him to his ranks, and then we cut to…

…How am I in the library?

C: You are in the Library because you are a badly-written character in a badly-written story.


Anyway, after this, we get a random musing about the sword we encountered last chapter, and he punches a bookcase in his anger. He then looks for a Library, and then we get a looooooong narrative rambling about “is the world turning against me, why am I here, what the fuck is going on, is it a dream, blah blah blah”.

SB: Skip!

Well, I doubt most basics get into an existential musing that just meanders. Anyway, I’m going to cut that musing, because in all honesty, at least it doesn’t go into the author’s views of life, the universe, and everything, and even if it is a little meandering and pointless in some spots it’s generally harmless. Which leads us to:

Fuck my brain.

C: *snerk*

SB: No thank you. If I wanted to fuck something worth my time, I’d get a damn fleshlight.

AAM: Sterling! *blushes intensely*

SB: Is true! You’d be imploring for one too!

AAM: But… but it would be unbecoming of one such as me!

SB: Not too late to start. Whatever Mother or Father whoever told ya was wrong, touchin’ yerself is good for ya!

AAM: *blushing intensifies* Sterling!

Anyway, Kale then wanders back to—

In fact, I actually realize where I am: back in the small area with the display case. …fuck my life. And my existence.

And this fic. Fuck that, too.

Anyway, he then just stands there, and instead of talking the sword… just remains silent.

C: Hm. With how much it spoke the last time it appeared, I was sure it would.

So was I. Anyway, he then looks out the window, sees that it’s gotten dark, and starts going on a random tangent about the moon outside. Of course…

I let out a light chuckle as I see something strange on the moon. Well, I guess the moon here is a bit different: I don’t remember a black line crossing over i- wait, that’s-


I actually managed to see the tops of the bookcases, I jumped so high out of fright.


Honey, you are lots of things, but pre-flight Superman is not one of them. So what the hell are you doing?

Turning around, and with a hand on my chest as my heart attempts to escape my body, I face the display case and the sword, which is shining in the light of the moon. “Smoke? Wha- why’s there smoke rising up out there?” I shake my head. “Wait, why is that cause for concern? I’m sure its just someone camping or something like that. A simple traveler settling down for the night.”

SB: Sure, because they’re totally going to do that if there’s a bunch of nuns right there.

I chuckle nervously, trying to buy my own idea. For some reason, it doesn’t seem right.

C: I am fairly certain denial does not work like that.

AAM: I’m also fairly certain such denial is only valid when something serious is about to happen.

If that was the case, then why did they not seek shelter at this monastery? The smoke appears to be quite close to this location and the monastery itself is not a small landmark. Tell me Harbinger: what is the more likely reason for someone to be camping out in the cold night’s air when a warm bed is so close by?”

You know you have bad logic when a sword shoots holes through it. “Okay, that’s not a bad point. The only reason someone wouldn’t come here is if…” My jaw opens wide as I hear a voice ringing in my head. “This isn’t the last you’ve seen of me, boy! You will regret the day you ever crossed me!”Randell’s voice rings clearly through my mind as my blood suddenly starts to run cold. “There- there’s no way that he followed me… all the way here. Is there?”

SB: Took you long enough.

The sword pretty much tells Kale “this dude, Randell of the Dunes, points out that everyone in the monastery would be crushed, and then brings up Krysta. Of course…

I pause, taking what he’s just said into consideration. “How do you know about Randell and Krysta? I’ve never mentioned them to you. Hell, we talked once, and that was mostly me trying to buy time until someone could find me and get me as far away from you as possible.”

SB: How did they know about—?

A sudden jolt of fire shoots up my right hand, though its not very painful, only enough for me to grab it in shock. “What was that?!” I scream.

SB: …Vad?

Trust me, Sterling. Sometimes, you don’t want to know the answers to these things.

That was me reminding you of our bond. Come now, Harbinger, surely you haven’t forgotten our first meeting? After all, it occurred only a bit earlier today. Don’t you remember the surge of power you felt when you touched this blade?” I nod nervously. “From the moment we came into direct contact, our pact was sealed. I am bound to you for eternity. We are a part of the same entity, fighting together to achieve our goals. What you know, I know. And my, what you know… what you know…” A cold knot forms in my gut as the realization of what its saying hits me. It knows that I’m- “From another world? …Yes, I am aware of this thought that runs through your head, though I highly doubt the actuality of this possibility. But, thanks to our bond, I know who it is who is chasing you and I have an idea as to what their plan may be. My guess is that they shall strike at dawn, sending down their forces to crush this place and have you dragged out before their leader before he executes you.”

Okay, now the sword has formed a soul link with its wielder. It does that, and it instantly knows everything you know. Including that you’re from another dimension.

C: Not to mention that this fic has followed its own cast of original characters.

“Then I’ve got to warn everyone!” I shout, my eyes wide and my voice frantic. “I’ve got to rally everyone and either get them ready to escape or attack. If we move now, we can survive! We can- oh God… Krysta wouldn’t survive the trip, would she?” I stumble back onto a bookcase and slide down it, feeling completely defeated. “It’s over then… All of these people are going to die because of me…”

Are they?” it asks. I look up to see it glimmering slightly. “Did I not say before that you would seek me out for your own want and need? Do you not want to save these people? Do you not need the power that I may grant you?” I stare at the blade as I realize, deep down in my heart, that its right: I need to use it if I want to save these people. I don’t know what power it could give me, but if its enough to drive off Randell and his army… Wouldn’t it be worth it?

Slowly, I rise to my feet and walk over to the display. With a good degree of care, I remove the top of the case and reach inside, my body lighting up like fire as my skin makes contact with the weapon. Pulling it out, I hold it out in front of me.

“Tell me what I need to do. Tell me how to save these people.”

Yeah. Remind me, this is a Fire Emblem fanfiction, isn’t it?

AAM: It is indeed. Or, that’s what the description says, anyway.

Yeah, I think you’ll forgive me if I don’t trust it anymore.

Anyway, we then cut back to Randell as he wakes up. He then walks over to where Garrett is talking to Myra, where he’s saying…

“Myra, listen…” Garrett said smoothly. “All of this is just business, ya know? You’ve got to do what’s best for number one if you want to survive in this world. Now, I’ve got an issue with your brother to be sure. I hate it when someone betrays my trust. Really cuts deep, right in here.” He placed his hand over his heart and made a pained expression.[/quote]

AAM: If you don’t mind my asking, what is this secret that Myra and Marco are holding that is causing Garrett to turn on them?

Something mysterious. That, or it’s the fact they’re from Plegia? And that’s not exactly a secret, either. Either way, this guys catastrophizing a secret, and… well, that doesn’t tend to end well.

SB: This guy better be shitting me! Because if he isn’t, I reserve all rights to pummel his stupid ass!

C: Now why would you do that?

AAM: I… believe I know why, but I’m not at liberty to disclose that.

“But you… you, Myra, didn’t do anything to me. You were just doing what big brother told you to, right? Now, what kinda man would I be for holding it against a girl who was just listening to her family? I can forgive you, if you promise to do me one small… favor…” Slowly, he leant in so that his mouth was next to her ear and whispered something that Randell couldn’t make out, though from the girl’s expression, he had an idea of what it was.

“Go to hell!” she screamed, head-butting him hard enough to make him stumble backwards.

SB: Thank you, bitch, for doing the only thing you had to do.

AAM: You do not think his favor was of a… sexual nature, did you?

SB: Better not have been. That shit ain’t right.

You said it.

Anyway, Garrett tosses an insult at her, before saying “I don’t kill women, but I’ll bet you anything you’ll wish I did”. He then walks over to Randell, who then—

“A good bit, yes, though I can’t really blame you. She is certainly a fine young lady, if not for her temper. Tell you what,” he started, bumping his fist on Garrett’s chestplate, “if you really show your stuff today, I’ll let you have her.”

C: And he offers women to him as trophies of war! Lackey, stop that! We can see your flashing card all the way from here!

No kidding, right?

Randell and Garrett talk a little more, they go over a plan, and then we get a line break to Daven as he wakes up from a nightmare. We get some exposition about a charm given to him by his father (which, in all fairness, is sort of delivered naturally, so I’ll give it a pass). He then notices Kale was never in his bed, before getting up and walking towards the window and seeing the army marching towards the monastery.

He took a step back, ready to run and get Brother Libra and warn him of the threat, when he saw another sight that shocked him: someone was going out to meet them, alone. Even from the distance, Daven could still tell who it was.



C: Ah, yes, of course. Little Mister Stu and his magical sword, against an entire army led by Lackey McEvil.

SB: This will be entertaining.” *turns to Aggie* Shit, gonna get good!

AAM: Why would you watch the brutal death of a young man anyway?

C: I believe, songbird, that you sorely underestimate just how entertaining it is to watch a single man step in front of a monastery and face down an entire army with the intent of taking all of them down. Granted, this is a Gary Stu and I doubt he will fail spectacularly, but it is still amusing to see an arrogant Stu face down impossible odds with the delusion he will prevail over them.

Yep. And speaking of which, this is when we cut back to Kale.

Calm breaths… in and out… focus on the task ahead… erase all doubts from my mind… I slowly repeat these steps in my head as I walk out across the field towards the approaching mass of Plegians with nothing but a talking sword in my hand. Of course, if what the sword said was true, it might be all I need to protect these people.

Call upon the great Arashi as you draw this blade from its sheath and the power to smite your foes shall be yours.”

That’s what it had told me last night as I asked it how I was going to defeat Randell and his forces. I had my doubts, but at the same time, I felt a part of me that believed in what it had told me. Just holding the sword filled me with confidence and I could feel power flowing through my body, like I was hooked up to an electric current or something. I can do this. I can protect these people.

Um… Again, who is this “Arashi”? Because this is starting to get into uncomfortable levels of Stu-dom that he’s getting powers from a sword that’s aligned with a force that nobody in this world has ever heard of.

So then Lackey comes in, and—

I come to a stop at a point that’s about halfway between the monastery and the army. None of them get past me. Not on my life. “So, the whelp decides to come out and play.” I hear a high pitched, nasally voice call out over the field as Randell steps into view. “I hope you weren’t thinking that surrendering would save those people in there, because that isn’t happening. They die with you, today.” He smirked as he drew his blade. “Of course, how quickly they die could depend on if you surrender. I may make it quick and painless if you let me end your life here and now.”

C: I am going to end this—

Crunchy, calm down, the chapter’s almost over. You can make your threats at Lackey McEvil later.

C: *grumbles*

AAM: Rather a disagreeable one, isn’t he?

SB: Nah, he’s just mad he can’t get at this lackey man. Too bad the basic will probably—

I sneer. “Yeah, because I want people to know someone with a voice like you was responsible for killing me.”

SB: *snerk* Okay, that was actually pretty good.

AAM: I hardly think mocking the tone of someone’s voice is wholesome.

SB: Believe me, after all the spineless whining he’s done so far, this is a relief.

A large smile crosses my face as his turns red as a tomato. “But yeah, this whole ‘destroying the monastery’ thing? It isn’t happening.”

“And who’s going to stop me?! You, by yourself?! Don’t make me laugh!”

I’m the one who actually laughs, though I’m not quite sure why. “Actually, yes and no. Yes, I’m going to be the one who stops you, but not alone.” Gripping the sheath of the blade tightly, I hold it horizontally in front of me, grabbing the hilt with my right hand. “In the name of Arashi, I will crush you!” I scream as I pull the blade from its scabbard.

The last few things I remember before the world goes black are the sounds of something roaring and someone screaming my name.

And that ends the chapter.

SB: Aw, man, we’re not going to see the basic fucker getting what he deserves?

Not right now. Anyway, the chapter ends on an author’s note (as these things usually do), and while he says the usual stuff, but in the middle…

Okay, enough of this sappy stuff, because that isn’t what y’all care about, I’m sure. Before I end this off, I want to say one thing: to those of you who’ve been wanting Kale and the others to meet up with the Shepherds, it’s going to happen and soon. Although, that does raise a question: do Kale and his merry little band join up with Chrom and the rest and become Shepherds themselves or should they do something else?

…Any input into this? It’d be nice…


You tell me! You’re the one writing the damn thing, not us! Make up your own mind, if you please!

C: Authors and their astounding lack of ability to plan their own stories…

Well, anyway, that’s really all we have time for today, folks. Next week, we’re probably going to finish riffing the first half of this thing.

SB: And can I finally go home?

With any luck? Let’s hope.

AAM: Good. I’m sure Alexander and the others are waiting for me to return.

Yep. I’m sure they are. But in the meantime, we’ll leave it off there, and we’ll see you patrons next week!


90 Comments on “1293: Fire Emblem: ReAwaken – Chapter Eleven”

  1. Swenia says:

    C: Be quiet polecat, I do not own panties!

    This is true. He borrows them from me.

    Now the dresses, those are his. And he’s got amazing taste in evening gowns.

  2. TacoMagic says:

    Albert. Yeah, the idiot cavalier who decided to charge out of the front door of a mansion that was under siege. Apparently, he really sucks at doing his job at fighting. After he jumped me, or at least, jumped at me, all it took for me to get him off of me was a quick shove. The kicks, while probably unnecessary, felt good however. Albert, the moral of this story is simple: try and jump me and I’ll kick the ever-loving shit out of you.

    Man, this fic has a major hate-boner for Albert. Like, almost a council-bashing level of hate. And I’m trying to dredge up a reason other than “HE QUESTIONED TEH STEW!” for it. Sure, he’s lawful stupid and a bit of a coward, but that actually gives him more depth of character than pretty much anyone else we’ve seen so far because, when the shit hits the fan, he has a sense of duty that overrides his cowardice. And he’s demonstrated that he knows how to follow an order he doesn’t agree with. It wouldn’t actually take that much work to turn Albert into a protagonist worth reading about.

    • Herr Wozzeck says:

      Exactly! He’s got more depth than anyone else and he’s getting his ass punished for it! Why? I don’t get it…

      • TacoMagic says:

        So, MaesterDimentio, when do we get our fic about Albert?

      • MaesterDimentio says:

        When I look back on it, I really just do not understand it either. Then again, I can barely understand any of what I was doing when I wrote this.

      • SC says:

        Hey, if you DID do a fic for Albert, you’d have a hell of a good premise, given what we’ve all said.

      • MaesterDimentio says:

        Well, as I have said before, I have considered revisiting the idea for this story, minus several things that I feel detract from the overall quality – like the Sword of Deus ex Machina Kale just got. If I were to do it, I guarantee that Albert would be treated a LOT better than how he was in this fic.

        It may be hard to believe with the way I wrote things, but he actually is one of my favorite characters in this story.

        Also, a bit of Writer’s Commentary on this chapter: I remember that around this time was when I first started to think I may have made some mistakes in the story. I’m looking at you, Sword of Deus ex Machina. A shame I didn’t try to fix them immediately, but I suppose hindsight is 20/20.

        • Herr Wozzeck says:

          Well, he is the most developed of the characters, and he does have a relatable character arc, so if you did rewrite it… Yes. Albert stays. There’s no question about that.

          And at least you were like “wait” about the Sword of Deus ex Machina. I can tell you from experience some people could use that critical voice a lot sooner!

      • TacoMagic says:

        It may be hard to believe with the way I wrote things, but he actually is one of my favorite characters in this story.

        It wouldn’t be the first time a writer suddenly realized they were writing about the wrong character.

        In my early college days I was writing about an emo little jerk (b’cuz dark characters r awsom!) who leaves his position as the commander of a mercenary group in order to murder the the man who killed his parents. He does this in the middle of the night without telling anyone with the full knowledge that he’ll be a criminal and can’t come back. In so doing, he leaves the daughter of the man he’d inherited his command from, who is also his fiancé.

        Shit happens, he ends up in stasis for thirty years and becomes soulbound to an ancient entity yadda yadda. Shortly after he wakes, he ends up back at the grounds of his old command. It’s in general disrepair aside from the central building. Living there is old fiancé and a few students to whom she is teaching the blade.

        See, after he left, things completely fell apart. Without a registered and licensed mercenary commander, the unit couldn’t serve governments officially (it was a core concept of that particular society). She tried to keep things together, but as a woman, she was not allowed to take command of the unit, despite having a great deal of expertise and experience leading. And Emo, being an idiot, didn’t have a second in command to step up if something happened to him. With nobody qualified to lead, and no work to be had, the group simply dissolved and everyone abandoned the fort.

        Everyone but her. She didn’t want to give up the only home she ever knew, so she kept herself alive by teaching the blade to sons of nobility or doing whatever other small martial jobs she could get. She doesn’t recognize him when he shows up, but there’s a storm going on (of course, right?) so she invites him in and offers him a place to stay for the night.

        Crap happens, he realizes it’s her, and he confesses who he is. Naturally she wants to know what happened, why he disappeared (naturally everyone thought him dead, except her who had been silently hoping he was still alive and would come back to her). Eventually he tells her.

        She stands up, punches him dead in the face, and tells him that when she wakes up in the morning, he should not be within a mile of the fort.

        It was at that moment, about 30,000 words in, that I realized I was writing about the wrong damn character. The story of a 50 year-old blade master who is suddenly freed from the burden of waiting for somebody she should never have bothered with? Why didn’t I write that story!?

        • Herr Wozzeck says:

          Yes, why didn’t you write that story?

          Please tell me you did eventually write that story.

        • TacoMagic says:

          I’m actually planning on it, I’ve got a lot of the outline done (and redone); but I’ve got to tear down the world and rebuild it pretty much from the ground up to get rid of Emo’s bullshit (it required a whole chunk of history that’s just… no).

          Not a lot of free time in my life right now to give that character the attention and dedication she deserves, unfortunately. But I think about her a lot. She’s easily the most human character I’ve ever come up with.

          Actually, I’m just realizing that some of the ideas for Swenia were unconsciously borrowed from her, since they both share a bit of a similar setup.

        • Herr Wozzeck says:

          Hah, Swenia, you hear that? You’re awesome!

      • Swenia says:

        Damn straight I am.

      • SC says:

        Believe it or not, but my character Paulo was never supposed to be a main character. He was supposed to be the tall, dark and quiet second in command of the main character, jumping in only when shit hits the fan too hard for everybody else to handle.

        Having him as a primary role in my riffs kind of gave the finger to that, because now he has a backstory way too rich in detail for him to serve a secondary role.

    • SC says:

      He’s already a concept I’ve tried to work with before, and gotten pretty far with a couple times before I hit a wall due to being too young to know how to progress a character like that. I dunno, something about the character archetype that’s reluctant to get involved, but can still kick ass when they do, always had some kind of charm for me. I don’t mind the frontline badasses like Sully and Frederick, who will throw everything into a fight with a smile, but they get a little one-note after a bit because that’s their whole damn character, practically.

      And Albert is an OC, if I’m not mistaken? Well, (if his author would be okay with my meddling,) that just opens the door to overhaul his character and make him into a much more interesting protagonist than Kale and the Shit Brigade could ever hope to be.

      • TacoMagic says:

        It’s a character that can indeed be done well. See Robin Hobb’s Farseer series. The main protagonist is essentially a young idiot who is also a bit of a sniveling coward, until he actually gets into combat, at which point he tends to snap, go berserk, and black out.

        He’s actually a pretty compelling character because most of us can identify with being young and stupid, and most people don’t want to be anywhere near the shit that he ends up dealing with. He’s not really a character you like, necessarily, but he’s a character you understand, which is what makes his story powerful in my mind.

        He’s also the origin of one of my favorite moments:

        I found Creece sound asleep, and had to wake him to send him back to the cart. I sat down, my blanket around my shoulders, and thought of the six men down below, now sleeping around their fire. I had cause for true hatred of only one of them. I recalled Bolt to myself as he had been then, smirking as he drew on his leather gloves to beat me, sulking when Regal reprimanded him for breaking my nose lest it make me less presentable if the dukes wished to see me. I recalled the disdainful way he had performed his task for Regal, hammering easily past my token defense as I strove to keep Will and his Skill out of my mind.

        Bolt hadn’t even known me. He’d run his eyes over me and dismissed me, not even recognizing his own handiwork. I sat thinking for a bit about that. I supposed I had changed that much. Not just the scars he’d given me. Not just the beard and the workman’s garb and the dirt of the road on me and my gauntness. FitzChivalry wouldn’t have lowered his eyes before his gaze, would not have stood silent and let the tinkerfolk fend for themselves. FitzChivalry would not, perhaps, have poisoned all six guards for the sake of killing one. I wondered if I had grown wiser or wearier. Both, perhaps. It did not make me proud.

  3. TacoMagic says:

    Exiting the infirmary, I see Albert’s gotten back up and- what the fuck dude, stop trying to tackle m- oh, thanks Daven.

    Why is there always a worse fight scene!?

  4. SB: What the fuck? I’m missing practice because of you! And you’re blaming it on the ninjas and throwing confusing-ass shit at me! Why the fuck would you—?

    Dakota: *Absentmindedly* Have you checked for Gremlins?

  5. SC says:

    Oh really? Your cosplay as Dr. Franke-N-Furter said otherwise.

    He’s just a sweet trans-ves-tite~

  6. TacoMagic says:

    “Just shut the hell up…” I mutter, rubbing my knuckles from where I punched him in the jaw. I feel bad about it, to be honest, considering I’ve kicked him repeatedly already but… Fuck it, I’m just sick of him running his mouth. “You think I don’t know I’m a coward? You think I’m happy with myself for running away? For being the reason that Rorik is dead?”

    Not only are you those things, Dickwad, but you’re also an abusive asshole because you’re essentially taking your frustrations with yourself out on Albert just because he called you out on the things you just recognized as being issues. You fucked up, and a dude is dead because of it.

    You struck Albert in the face because he dared say the things about you that are true. Because he pointed out that you don’t get to be the victim here.

    You are a terrible person, Kale, and you need to go crawl under a rock and die before you harm somebody else. Either directly or because you can’t control your shit while still diving headfirst into situations that you KNOW you can’t handle.

  7. TacoMagic says:

    “Aw, shut you’re mouth.” he snapped, craning his neck to look at her. “I’m doing what any smart man would do in my position, especially after he’s just found out that the two people he’s been travelling with have been keeping such a big secret from him. You’re an idiot for actually wanting to stay with these two after what they told us!” Looking back towards Randell, he gave him a thin smile. “You see, I’m wanting in.”

    We, being proper lackeys with only a single braincell to our regiment, trust your change of loyalty implicitly and accept you into our ranks without question.

    • TacoMagic says:

      Garrett just laughed. “Try a man who’s had it done to him before. I used to run with a bandit gang here in Ylisse until they decided to dump me outside a village and let the yokels living there try and gut me. I ran with them for years and they just stabbed me in the back like that!” He kicked the post with one of his feet for emphasis, anger boiling up in his eyes. “All I could think about while those hicks were getting ready to string me up was getting revenge. And then these two came along with their friend.” He gestured at Marco and Myra with his chin. “This idiot gave me a chance to get my revenge and I took it. Gods, did it feel good, but a man who’s lived a life of violence tends to want to go back to being violent, ya know?”

      This definitely makes your word of loyalty seem more trustworthy. What are you idiots doing letting him sit there like that!? Untie him and give him weapons!

      • Swenia says:

        See, this is why I’d be useless at the whole evil commander thing. I’d have just executed Garrett on the spot once he told me he was an ex-bandit that wanted to turn against his friends. Nobody is going to want a recent bandit back, so he’s not a bargaining tool; bandits make terrible soldiers, even from the standpoint of an army of darkness; and they have an earned reputation of being predators of convenience.

        There’s no value in keeping that prisoner. And there’s an easy solution to prisoners who are liabilities.

      • SC says:

        Nobody is going to want a recent bandit back

        Contacts: Hey!

        What are you bitching for? You’re a thief, not a bandit.

        Contacts: This is true.

        Sports Shades: Yeah, I’m the bandit here. And on that note: Hey!

      • TacoMagic says:


        Here, I’ve produced an itemized list of all the people who would pay to get Sports Shades back:

      • SC says:

        Sports Shades: …Man, fuck you.

      • Herr Wozzeck says:

        Oh, you are going to love next week’s chapter…

  8. Swenia says:

    Fuck my brain.

    Not even in the Spring, Sweetheart.

  9. Swenia says:

    SB: Not too late to start. Whatever Mother or Father whoever told ya was wrong, touchin’ yerself is good for ya!

    Listen to the man, he speaks wisdom.

    • SC says:

      Although, there are some cases where one could afford to touch themselves less. Especially if it keeps people up at night.

      Glasses: …What’re you looking at me for?

    • Herr Wozzeck says:

      AAM: *blushes harder* But it wouldn’t… I cannot have children no matter what, so I hardly see what the point of such activities is anyway!

      Well, some people do it because it feels good, Aggie.

      AAM: Well, I don’t understand how that could be…

  10. TacoMagic says:

    A simple traveler settling down for the night.

    Only this, and nothing more.

  11. TacoMagic says:

    “From the moment we came into direct contact, our pact was sealed.

    Generally, when a magical, intelligent sword starts talking about pacts, you’re life is going to start sucking. Probably for several centuries.

  12. Harlow says:

    SB: You better not fuck around with the nun. I’ve been trying for months for him to get a spine. It’s a project that…. it goes…

  13. TacoMagic says:

    I stumble back onto a bookcase and slide down it, feeling completely defeated. “It’s over then… All of these people are going to die because of me…”

    Not necessarily. It’s unlikely they would waste the effort in attacking this place if they found you outside the monastery willing to come quietly.

    Of course, that would require you to act selflessly. So, yeah, everyone is going to die. Well, unless deus ex machina.


  14. "Lyle" says:

    “Call upon the great Arashi as you draw this blade from its sheath and the power to smite your foes shall be yours.”

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