Caster and Sherman watched over the villagers as they worked on filling the hole Caster’s landing had caused.

I’ve never seen people do so much labor with so much motivation.

“They seem really happy to shovel dirt,” Caster joked.

“They have been inspired by your presence, Master Caster. We have waited for generations for the Minionborn to arrive and save us from the turmoil that the world has fallen into. Now that you have arrived and have revealed yourself to be a benevolent force that is so selflessly sacrificing their time and power on we few unwashed masses, we would gladly work ourselves into our graves if it meant contributing even a single inch of land to your glory.”

Jeez. Talk about pressure.

“Well, I don’t want people to be doing that. Sure, there’s a lot of work to do, but life’s about being alive. Make sure they’re not working for any longer than… about 8 hours? Then tell them to stop and take the rest of the time off.”

“Time… off? Only 8 hours?!” Sherman’s eyes bulged.

“What? Is that too long? I guess it is a long time to shovel, maybe-”

“Such a caring Elder God! Commanding service for only 8 hours! Never in my life have we worked for less than 12 if we were lucky. Lord Griffin would have us slave away our every waking moment, with only 4 hours of rest if we were lucky. I will inform the workers shortly.” Sherman's sturdy voice cracked, and he turned away from Caster.

I thought that was normal. It’s going to be hard to wrap my head around this whole peasant thing.

“Oh, Master Caster, what would you have us do with your Holy Vessel from the stars?” Sherman spoke again.

Eh? Oh, the Zz’Wrath!

“I’ll… one second.” Caster walked over the flattened rim of the crater, descending into the bottom of the pit. He looked into the orb at the center.

If I don’t even know what I’m looking at, I doubt they do either.

Caster walked past the crystal arms, and into the black void beyond the orb. He looked around, wondering if there were any other functions he’d missed.

The mirror, the Stat Boxes, the pianist… looks like that’s all there is. I hate to bother him, but I’ll ask Yohg.

“Hey Yohg, it’s me again.” As the words left Caster’s mouth, the grey and white box appeared.

You can just think about asking me for assistance and invite me into your thoughts. I am telepathic, after all.

That’ll be useful for later if I’m around crowds.

“What should I do with this thing? Won’t other Gods be able to tell what it is by looking at it?”

There are many odd structures within Perdita, this one may confuse humans, but it’s hardly out of the ordinary to higher beings. Only me, Spooky, and you have seen its form. So no, no one else would recognize it. However, it would be wise to hide it well, say under a false floor inside a shack within the village.

“Is it possible for me to shrink it? It looks a lot smaller than it did when it was in the Cosmic Center. I think it would be a good idea to carry it with me for now since I doubt the villagers have stuff like that.”

Hmm, yes, the villagers here are using a couple of 2x4s to hide their water source after all. You can do such a thing as changing its current size. As you think, so it shall be. But beware – as I mentioned before the Zz’Wrath is not indestructible. If it is broken, your link to your Elder God would be severed, making you mortal once more.

“Gotta keep my one Horcrux safe, got it. Thanks,” Caster nodded, and Yohg’s box disappeared.

Clever – Knowledge is Power, Activated! +1 Arcane!

Caster stepped out of the Zz’Wrath, and nearly jumped as he came face-to-face with Sherman.

“Forgive me, m’Lord! For a moment I thought you’d abandoned us! Shame on me.” Sherman nervously sighed.

What? I was only gone for a few seconds.

“Why would I do that? Like it or not, you’re stuck with me!” Caster laughed.

“Oh, heavens, thank goodness. After an hour I was getting worried. Phoebe and Abel are ready to accompany you into Buckley’s Wood.”

Both of the two younger villagers were standing side-by-side only a few paces away, looking back at Caster.

An hour? What does he mean an hour? He must be speaking metaphorically. These people are like puppies, I can’t leave them to themselves for long. I need to get that craftsman and come right back as soon as I can.

Caster turned back, putting his hand against one of the Zz’Wrath’s arms. The thing shrank instantly, and he caught it in the palm of his hand.

“Does anyone have a string?” Caster asked.

Sherman, Phoebe, and Abel dug into their pockets, searching for a string to give Caster. Phoebe was the first. She’d reached into her potato sack shirt and pulled out a necklace. She undid the tie and took off a brooch hanging on it. She handed it to Caster without a word.

“Thank you,” Caster awkwardly nodded, and Phoebe nodded just as oddly back.

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He wound the string in a simple knot around the tripod base of the structure. It would hold just fine. He put the string around his neck and tucked it into his hooded shirt.

“We’re ready to head into the forest with you, Mr. God,” said Abel, giving Caster a salute.

“Well then, let’s get going. Sherman, we’ll be back with that Wood Elf as soon as possible.

“I will take command with pride and honor!” Sherman joined Abel’s salute.

The three-headed up and out of the crater, heading into and past the tree line.

Caster looked at his handiwork – the dozens of trees that he felled when he gave Lord Griffin his warning laser shot. He’d burned many straight through, leaving many polls of felled timber in its wake. But soon enough, they passed the nature carnage and the noise of villagers shoveling behind and headed deeper into the center of Buckley’s Wood.

Abel walked at the front, gleefully hacking at every branch that reached remotely into their mostly wide-open trail.

Phoebe walked behind Caster; she never made a sound the entire way.

Caster kept a suspicious eye on the peaceful and beautiful surroundings. The last time he’d let his guard down, he got shot with a beam of light. Caster felt the middle of his chest. The mark that would have been there was gone. Though this time he was carrying the one thing that could revive him on his neck.

I can’t let something crazy like a rabid, psychic giant bear kill me again - and for good.

But after the second hour passed, their journey remained surprisingly peaceful.

Snap. They froze, as a noise came from deeper inside the forest.

Looking to their left, they couldn’t see anything beyond the trees between them and the noise.

“Stay 20 paces back, I’ll go first,” Abel dove into the thicket without hesitation. Caster tried following him closely, but the boy was too fast. Phoebe kept less than a pace between herself and Caster.

Snap. The noise rose once more – much closer this time.

What is that? It sounds like someone hitting a tree. Could it be a rabid, psychic giant bear?! Caster began to sweat.

Snap.

They were right on top of it.

Caster didn’t realize he’d gotten so close to Abel, who’d stopped right before the thicket ended and was peering around his tree. Caster ran into his back, and the two tumbled forward out of their cover.

Looking up from the ground, Caster realized it was a wide clearing. Many tree stumps stood around a single shack that stood at the center of the clearing. Between them and the shack, however, was a woman.

She was tall - taller than a man and a half. She had ember-like hair and was kept back in two ponytails and freckle spots all over her face. She was wearing shatter-plate armor and had a wood-chopping ax in her hand.

“Elenore?” Caster murmured.

“How’d you know my name? Who are you?” She asked right back.

Elenore dropped her wood ax and slowly reached for the hilt of her battleax - but didn’t take it off her shoulders. Abel stood and did the same, holding onto his sword while stepping back. Phoebe strode in front of Caster with her hands open and fingers apart, each finger facing the other. A strange field of energetic sparks began weaving and crackling between her hands.

“Elenore, it’s me!”

“I don’t know anyone who goes by ‘Me.’ You best start talking before I kick you back to whoever you’re working for.” Elenore narrowed her eyes.

The three Challengers glared at each other, ready to strike each other at any sudden twitch.

“Elenore no! We didn’t come here to fight you. We came here to ask for help,” Caster pleaded one last time.

What’s gotten into her?!

“My help? What fer?”

“These two are from a small village in the Badlands. I came here to find the Wood Elf and ask him to build the defenses.”

“Oh, you’re looking for Woody? How’d you know he was here?”

Caster cocked his head.

“Woody?”

“Yeah. The fella that builds cities? He lives here now, and he asked me to make sure no one bothers him. He’s retired now, so you’re outta luck. Now git!”

“Elenore, listen, it's me, Caster! You know me!” Caster sighed.

“What did you say?” Elenore asked, the harsh look on her face faded.

“Caster, the Minion! I’m back! After I di-” Caster caught himself.

I shouldn’t tell her I died. The other two will hear me. What should I say?

“I DIDN’T die back then! I’m still alive!”

Genius.

“No. That can’t be. Prove it right now or else I’m kicking your ass.”

Prove it? How does she not remember me? Oh! It must be my new form; I don’t look anything like the way I did when I was a Minion. But how do I show her… oh!

Caster took a long, deep breath. Then opened his right hand, firing an azure-colored ray into the afternoon sky. Phoebe, Abel, and Elenore jumped back in surprise as Caster let the torrent of energy surge for several seconds before he cut the beam short.

“Eleee! What are you doing this time? You disturbed my…” a new voice shouted from inside the shack.

The door swung open, and a man stepped outside.

He was an older man whose head was covered in long grey hair. Like a silver mane, it flowed halfway down his back and bare chest. His mustache and beard covered everything but his eyes, old brown eyes that were sunken from time. His voice reminded Caster of what a rough, retired old pirate would sound like. Someone who’d seen history and was living proof of it. With black gloves and pants to match, he seemed more like a down-to-earth great-uncle than a fabled man who’d rubbed shoulders with kings.

“Sorry to bother you, mister. But are you the Wood Elf who’s built nations?” Caster said as the man neared their gathering.

“No. That’s an old urban legend. There never was a Wood Elf that built what you young folks call City-States. In the old world, there were two kinds of Elves, Wood Elves, and Woodn’t Elves. I ain’t neither.” His shouting became calmer by the second, as he realized there wasn’t a widescale wizard battle happening outside his home.

The old man sighed as he sat on one of the nearby tree stumps. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small wooden duck. He also took out a tiny blade of metal and began carving its rough design.

“Shooting lasers and whatnot while an old man’s on the privy. No respect these days…” he mumbled.

“So… you’re not the one who’s built nations?”

“Oh no, I am. I just ain’t an Elf. I’m a human. The name’s Woody Andre. The Elf legend was a mistranslation.”

Well, that’s a relief.

Objective 2 - Updated! You've found someone that can build things - now try employing him!

“I’m Caster. I and Elenore knew each other before I came to the Badlands. I came here to ask you for your help to help us build our village and help save the Badlands from people like Lord Griffin.”

“You’re telling me you’re the same ‘Caster’ that started all this ruckus from way back then? He telling the truth, Elie?” Woody glanced at Elenore out of the quarter of his eye.

“Well, I think he is. But I’ve never met him before. I think he’s got me mixed up with someone else.”

She doesn’t remember me? Wait, maybe she’s Elenore’s sister or something. She did say she had a big family. This has to be one big misunderstanding. I should probably start over.

“Elenore, we met just a few days ago. I was the one in the Minion body, remember? We were outside of Boyerton? I shot the Mimic with my disintegration ray and saved us when we were trapped inside that cabin! You and Keith were there when…” Caster trailed off.

“Oh... oh bless... I think he might really be telling the truth! Meemaw never told anyone outside our family that part of the story! Not even The Agency!”

Meemaw? I don’t remember anyone named Meemaw. Was that Elenore’s nickname back home?

“Heh! I’ve heard lots of tall tales throughout my years. Never in a million of ‘em did I expect ‘The Minionborn that started The Great War’ to be the one that’s real,” Woody grunted with a chuckle.

“Golly gee, and you used the same energy beam she said you had. It really is you ain’t it?! Meemaw Elenore told me about y’all’s adventure a hundred times during bedtime!”

What?

“Elenore, who is Meemaw?” Caster asked.

“My grandmother, silly! She’s the one that helped you way back when! Everyone knows who you are!”

What.

“I didn’t mean to get mad at you before, y'all just scared me coming out of the woods like that.” Elenore let go of her ax’s hilt and took several steps forward, completely ignoring Abel and Phoebe, who were both standing still in pure confusion. She outstretched her hand for a shake.

“Pleased to meet you, Mr. Caster! I’m Elenore Sharon-Rose Amberkirke the 3rd!”