Later that night, after fending off a demon dog attack, Atlas gathered the main leadership of Fort Bone—about twenty people, including the core Portal Crushers—In the newly constructed playhouse. The makeshift stage was set up with a simple backdrop painted to resemble the bleak Wasteland, with dark clouds and a crimson sky. The air was thick with anticipation as Will’s group prepared to perform.
The play began with a scene of chaos, as actors portraying terrified refugees being attacked by the Sons of Valhalla. The actors, in ragged costumes, did an impressive job of depicting fear and desperation as they struggled against their attackers.
Then came the entrance of the Portal Crushers. The actor playing Atlas stepped forward, raising a fake sword in a heroic pose. "Fear not, for we are the Portal Crushers! We will save you from this tyranny!
“Listen up, Crushers," the actor playing Atlas shouted, his voice filled with determination. "We didn’t come this far to let these scum take over this world. We fight for each other, for the people who look to us for protection. We fight because if we don’t, no one else will!"
The real life Portal Crushers cheered at that over the top lines.
“I don’t think he said that,” whispered Hank.
“Shhhhhh.”
As the play continued, it became clear that Will had done his homework. The scenes were well-researched, depicting the Portal Crushers' tactics and struggles with an authenticity that resonated with the audience. The actors portraying the team members did their best to capture their personalities, though there were some amusing discrepancies.
‘Is that supposed to be me?’ Alexander wondered in his head, his eyes narrowing as he watched his stage counterpart stride across the set. ‘I’m way more handsome than that guy.’
Alexander’s actor charged onto the stage next, wielding a massive prop greatsword. "Yeehaw!" he shouted, mimicking Alexander’s famous battle cry.
The Portal Crushers fought valiantly, the actors moving in carefully choreographed sequences to simulate the battle.
As the play showed the battle in the newly established playhouse, a group of mini fairies hovered high above, their tiny wings buzzing with excitement. They had been eagerly awaiting this moment, curious about the commotion below. The performance seemed peaceful enough until the actors staged a fight scene—a reenactment of the Portal Crushers’ epic battle.
The moment the mini fairies saw the actors draw their weapons, they instantly sprang into action. “Fight! Fight! Fight!” they chanted in their high-pitched voices, ready to zoom down and alert everyone. But then, remembering their new instructions, they paused, exchanging glances.
One fairy yelled decisively, “let’s go tell Mave!” and with a quick flutter, they sped off toward the witches’ forest. The mini fairies happily darted through the trees until they found Mave, who was tending to a cauldron.
“Mave! Mave!” they chirped, surrounding her like a cloud of red sparkles. “There’s a fight! A fight at the playhouse! Fight! Fight! Fight!”
Mave looked up from her work, a smile spreading across her face. “Good job, little ones,” she said, patting the closest fairy on the head. “You did exactly as we asked.”
The fairies beamed with pride, their mission accomplished.
***
The climax of the play was Atlas’s inspirational post battle speech. "We fight not just for ourselves," the actor declared, his voice booming across the stage, "but for every soul that looks to us for hope! We are their shield, their sword, their last line of defence! Tonight, we crush the Sons of Valhalla, and tomorrow, we build a world worth living in!"
“He definitely didn’t say that,” drawled Hank.
He was shushed again.
The Portal Crushers watched with varying degrees of amusement and admiration. Amber whispered to John, "They’ve got Atlas’s attitude kind of close don’t they?"
John nodded, grinning. "Yeah, it’s kinda funny how close they got it."
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Wilfredo chuckled, elbowing Alexander. "What do you think of your portrayal?"
Alexander frowned slightly, scrutinising the actor playing him. "He’s... alright. But honestly, I’m way more handsome than that guy."
Amber rolled her eyes. "Sure you are, Alexander," she teased. In reality, the actor was probably better looking, with perfectly chiselled features and a confident swagger that had some of the female audience members whispering in appreciation. The ushers might have to wipe down the theatre seats tomorrow, based on how wet some of the seats were becoming.
The play concluded with the Portal Crushers standing triumphant, the Sons of Valhalla defeated.
The actor playing Atlas stepped forward once more, delivering a rousing final speech. "We did it," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "Against all odds, we stood together and proved that nothing can break us. We are the Portal Crushers, and this is our story."
The actors gathered on stage for a final bow, the crowd erupting in applause. Atlas clapped along, genuinely impressed.
"That was incredible, Will," Atlas said, rising from his seat. "You and your team did a fantastic job. This is exactly the kind of thing Fort Bone needs."
Will beamed with pride. "Thank you, Atlas. We’ll keep working on it, and make it even better for the big performance."
Atlas nodded. "And you’ve got my full support. Let me know if there’s anything else you need."
As the Portal Crushers and the leadership dispersed, still talking about the play, Atlas couldn’t help but feel a sense of satisfaction. The playhouse would be a great addition to Fort Bone, a reminder that even in a world as dark as this one, there was still room for art, for storytelling, and for hope.
‘And if it helped further my plans, for an empire all the better. The propaganda with the portals worked at home. If I can use this play to spread the deeds and fame of Fort Bone that would be great,’ Atlas thought.
As Atlas walked back to his quarters, he couldn’t shake the thought that the play might be more than just entertainment. It could become a powerful tool in their arsenal—a way to inspire the people of Fort Bone, to rally them to their cause.
This world was harsh, but with each new step forward, Atlas was more confident that they would not only survive but transform it. And as they did, they would carve out a place where stories like Will’s could be told, and where the heroes of Fort Bone would be remembered long after the last battle was fought.
After chatting with Will, Atlas had an important mission. He headed to the crafter area of town and found Randy. While Randy hadn't done the best job with the initial armor designs, at least he was reliable.
"Hey, Randy. I know you've still been putting together bone armor for the newbies. I wanted to see, do you have a couple of people you could recommend for putting together a new form of armor?"
"Atlas, there are a ton of newbies and refugees looking for jobs right now," Randy said.
"Oh, that's great," said Atlas. "Okay, pass me some of that KrazyBondoglue."
"All right, here it is."
Atlas then took off the armor that he was wearing, the new level 2 armor, a lamellar leather set. He took the KrazyBondoglue, applied a bit to a mana coin that he pulled out from his pouch, and attached the coin to the armor.
"All right," he muttered as the KrazyBondoglue did its job, sticking the coin firmly to the armor. "Now, let's see if we can damage this."
He drew out a level 2 sword and gave a quick chop at the armor. The leather beneath took a large gash, but the mana coin? Not even a scratch.
‘Hmmmn. Time for one more test,’ Atlas thought.
“Randy, run out quick and buy two more swords like these,” he indicated his swords from the Swords-O-Shannara machine. “Get the level 3 ones.”
‘Might as well upgrade my swords too.’
While Randy was out buying the new swords, Atlas was busy gluing more mana coins onto his armor, determination etched on his face. Each coin felt like a small victory, a step closer to making his gear invincible.
Randy returned quickly, his breath coming in heavy gasps from his run, eyes wide with excitement. “Got ’em!” he exclaimed, holding the shiny new level 3 swords like trophies.
Without wasting a moment, Atlas grabbed one of the new swords and, with a fierce gleam in his eye, chopped into a section of the prototype armor. He held his breath, the tension palpable, but the armor held up, strong and unyielding.
A surge of exhilaration coursed through him; they were on the right track!
“This is it!” Atlas exclaimed, his excitement bubbling over. “I’ve been thinking about these mana coins for a while, and I’ve finally tested them. They always seemed indestructible, and now we know they’re damn tough! This is going to be my new personal armor.”
“Oh wow,” Randy said, blinking in astonishment. The sheer thrill of Atlas’s enthusiasm was infectious.
“Yeah!” Atlas grinned, his eyes sparkling with joy as he surveyed his new FrankenArmor, clearly bursting with anticipation. “Alright, time for a secret project.”
Randy perked up, equally enthusiastic, his curiosity piqued. The air was teeming with possibility, and he couldn’t wait to see what Atlas was planning.
“Why don’t you grab two of the new refugees who want a job?” Atlas suggested, his tone light but his eyes twinkling with a hint of mischief.
“Will do,” Randy said, starting to head off, his mind racing with possibilities.
“Wait, wait, wait, don’t run off!” Atlas called after him, a note of urgency in his voice. “You can do all of that after I give you the instructions.”
“OK,” Randy said, turning back, curiosity piqued.
“Here’s a stack of 500 mana coins.” Atlas handed over the coins, a grin spreading across his face.
Randy’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Oh, that’s a lot of money!” The weight of the coins felt almost overwhelming in his hands.
“You bet your ass it’s a lot of money,” Atlas replied, his grin turning mischievous. The mana coins came in denominations of 1, 5, and 10, but what he handed Randy was a hefty stack of 50 coins, each worth 10 mana.
“I want you to take these coins and make them smaller.”
“What do you mean, smaller?” Randy asked, clearly confused, his brow furrowing in concentration.
“I mean, break these 500 worth of large denomination coins into 500 single coins.” Atlas’s excitement was palpable, like a kid about to unveil a surprise.
“Ohhh,” Randy said slowly, still trying to grasp it, the gears in his mind starting to turn. The prospect of such a task felt both daunting and exhilarating.
“Take your new group of two refugees and head to the Wasted Tavern,” Atlas instructed, his tone authoritative yet playful. “When you get there, talk to Alexander or Hank. They should be around, probably making a scene or trying to out-drink each other. Have them provide you with a table and some security. You know, just in case things get rowdy.”
“OK,” Randy nodded, excitement bubbling up.
“The job is to trade away all the coins. When you’re done, come back here with the 500 single coins—and the two refugees.” Atlas’s grin widened, his eyes sparkling with mischief.
“Alright, go!” Atlas added, waving Randy off like a general sending a soldier into war. “And remember, I’ll let you know what to do when you’ve got all the coins. Just don’t let those refugees run off with your money. They might look innocent, but trust me, they know how to be sneaky.”
Randy laughed, his nerves easing. “I’ll keep an eye on them. They won’t be able to pull a fast one on me!”
Atlas chuckled, his voice teasing, “Famous last words, my friend! Now go Igor! My new creation is about to come to life!”
As Randy turned to leave, he muttered to himself, “My name’s not Igor,” the thought did make him grin at the absurdity of it all.