Eight years ago, an old golem-maker named Caradon had brought Threadbare to life. But due to some mishaps, a crucially-and-tragically low wisdom attribute, and bad luck all around Caradon had not recognized Threadbare as a sapient creature.
He had been left on a shelf. And at the mercies of Caradon's cat, an enormously fat creature who was the uncontested lord of his domain, a legend in his own mind.
They had battled at first, bitterly and without mercy. But in their struggles they awoke a far greater foe, and survived it only through doing the unthinkable and allying together against the greater threat.
The cat's name was Pulsivar. And he was one of Threadbare's dearest and oldest friends in all the world.
They had been through a lot since those innocent, early days. They had survived bad odds, seen a nation crumble and rise again, and had been deciding factors in the fall and in the rise.
And sure, Pulsivar looked a little different now, but he was still Pulsivar, and when Threadbare realized that he had run to his old friend with joy, and laughed as the big, catlike creature scooped him up in his mouth, and run off back to the woods, purring so hard that it was all Threadbare could do to keep the pins from falling out of his hat.
They stopped at a pond not far away, a little place where the runoff from the rains collected and met a bubbling brook, and the horse-sized creature that was Pulsivar gently deposited Threadbare on the ground...
...and instantly Threadbare saw the big cat's shape flicker and shift. Now he appeared to be a full five feet away.
Pulsivar made licking motions in the air, still purring, laying his paw down, and Threadbare felt that same paw invisibly close over him, as a raspy tongue slopped against his fur over and over again.
This was only to be expected. Pulsivar had started out as a cat, but as he gained experience he had ranked up, as all creatures who survived long enough usually did. Once a cat, then a tomcat, after that a bobcat, and now he was a creature of legend: A Misplacer Beast.
Threadbare laughed and stroked the air at about the right height, and watched the fur on Pulsivar's neck ruffled. The feline left off licking for a moment but kept on purring, and Threadbare got that spot right where the chin met the head that Pulsivar always needed scratched.
After a few minutes, Pulsivar stiffened, poking his head up, ears flicking as he turned to stare back through the sparse trees.
“Sir?” Apollyon shouted. “Are you all right?”
Pulsiver eased around, just in case he had to pounce a bitch.
Threadbare stood up, straightened his hat, and put his paw on Pulsivar's flank. He drew in a lot of air, to make sure that they heard his shout. Small voiceboxes didn't always do well over distance, after all. “I'm fine! He's a friend! Come forward carefully, please!”
Then he clambered up Pulsivar's fur, hoping that his oldest non-human friend still remembered how to be a steed.
He did, thankfully, and the cat ambled forward to inspect the newcomers, looking unimpressed in only the way that felines could.
Apollyon got a sniff and complete dismissal. Buttons got a long look, and a tail swish. Glub got a purr, and a nuzzle. But Dracosnack, unexpectedly, got a nuzzle so hard it pushed him down, and the enormous black cat happily sat on him and groomed while the little dragon squirmed. It was an odd sight, since Pulsivar's butt was a good ten feet from the writhing plush dragon that was being slowly pushed into the mud of the stream's bank.
“I think Pulsivar remembers you from before,” Threadbare explained. “I remember Celia telling me that he used to sleep on her toys a lot before I showed up. And you were definitely one of those.”
“I could do with a little less... hm... nostalgia,” came Dracosnack's muffled voice. “He's getting my book all muddy.”
“This is THE Pulsivar. Holy shit,” Buttons said, moving forward and trying to stroke the cat's side... and falling through his image. “Right, right, I read about him. Just gotta find the guy.” she shook her head and found her way over to Dracosnack, then squealed in joy as she got a face full of fur. Soon she was petting the cat, and his purrs got louder.
“Is he coming with us too?” Apollyon asked, keeping his distance from the big beast, and glancing from it to the Outpost just visible over the treetops.
“He wasn't supposed to,” Threadbare said, “At least I think that Garon would have mentioned him if this was the case. But Pulsivar goes where he pleases, so he might come with us. But before he does, we'd better go collect our last two party members. Come on Pulsivar, up up.”
It took quite a bit more persuading before the big feline consented to rise. After all, it was sunny out, and this was the perfect place for a nap. But once they started heading to the Outpost he seemed to perk up, and with Threadbare on his back, Pulsivar loped ahead.
Shouts from the stockade towers at each corner indicated that they'd been seen, and as they got a hundred meters out, the gate rolled to the side, ropes and wood creaking as the hinged counterweights did their job.
Of course they all had to stop while Pulsivar stretched on the edge of the gateway, stretch upward, and claw a few times on the wood. Just to show everyone that he was in charge here, of course.
Threadbare used the opportunity to hop off his back and jog inside, rod under his arm, head turning as he looked around for a familiar figure...
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...and for the second time inside of an hour, a black-furred form charged him with glee.
This one, however, was somewhat smaller than Pulsivar. Smaller than Threadbare too, and he caught Mrs. Fluffbear as she hurled herself into his arms, almost literally hugging the stuffing out of him.
“Brother!” she squeaked. “They told me you were coming! I missed you so much!”
“Oh my goodness!” Threadbare said, spinning her around, before setting her down. Her plate armor was poking into him a bit much, but he was too polite to say anythign about it. “I had no idea you were out this way before Garon said we'd be picking up our last party member here.”
“He told you I was here? Oh no!” The eight-inch tall teddy bear's hands flew up to her mouth. “That was supposed to be a surprise!”
“He didn't tell me that,” Threadbare assured her. “I figured it out from some other things he said. He's not as good at keeping secrets as he likes to think. But I didn't expect to find Pulsivar here, too.”
“Oh he's not here for the quest!” Fluffbear told him, taking his paw and leading him further into the outpost. “He's just visiting Mopsy. It's Springtime so they spend a lot of time making kittens.”
Threadbare looked around as they came into the courtyard of the outpost. It was a simple stockade with a few small log buildings inside. About a dozen people, mostly humans with a few raccants and golems, were pretending to work while they examined the newcomers. And his sharp ears caught the murmur of his name, and the widening of eyes as the garrison realized who was visiting them.
“Hello,” he said, waving, and for his troubles he got a few chuckles and returned waves.
A little bit later, after resting and getting Apollyon a hot meal from the outpost's kitchen, Mrs. Fluffbear came bounding over to meet with the rest of the group properly. She was so small that she'd long ago found it more efficient to hop from place to place rather than trust to her stubby footsteps to get her there in time. She landed on the low, round table that had been carved from a single slice of tree trunk, and turned to look at the various toys and their human friend.
“Hello! I'm sorry I didn't come over earlier, but I wanted to make sure all the paperwork was done for the day so we could have a long sit down and talk about things!” she said in a squeaky rush. “It looks like I'm going to be going with you so I want to know all about each of you!”
“Holy shit,” Buttons said. “I mean... wow. You're... give me a second.”
“Oh no problem! People tell me I'm a lot,” said the tiny toy.
“No, no, it's just... It took me a while to get over the fact I'm gonna be fighting alongside THE Threadbare. Now I find that you're part of this party too? Geeze. Yeah. No pressure, right?”
“I suppose I'm just chopped tuna,” Glub said, putting his feet up on the table.
“No, no, you're pretty awesome, it's just—”
“Ha! No worries. I get it, man,” Glub said. “Just fake it till you make it, that's my advice.” Then he turned his goggle eyes over to Fluffbear. “So how you been little Fluffy? Why don't you start? Tell us what you've been up to?”
“Well I was running around all over the country after the war ended,” she said, rubbing one fuzzy ear with a paw. “You remember that, Threadbare! I was helping fight monsters and protect people! Um... then Garon said he needed me training some juveniles so I did that a while. Then when the RAGS started really getting out there with all the exploration, I volunteered to help out! Mopsy gets nervous around too many people. The wilderness is a more comfortable spot for her!”
“Mopsy?” Apollyon asked.
“My Knightly mount! She's a mountain lion.”
“And I'm guessing she's going to be our seventh party member,” Threadbare said.
“Of course! I can't leave her alone. And we're a team now. I'm pretty sure she's really close to ranking up into... something...” her voice trailed off. “I really hope she is. It's been a few years.”
Threadbare clambered up onto the table and hugged her.
Your Adorable skill is now level 92!
“I know what you're worried about, you don't have to say it,” Threadbare whispered in her ear. “It will work out.”
“I hope so. I really hope so,” she hugged him back, then pulled away to look over the group. “Wow! That's a lot of adorable skill ups! Thanks everyone!”
“On the house!” Buttons gave a thumbs up.
Apollyon coughed and looked embarrassed.
Dracosnack merely nodded, as if he'd expected nothing less.
Glub just laughed. “Man, you toy golems got it easy. All wood guys get is the ability to give splinters to people.” he paused. “Mind you, that saved my butt when I got swallowed whole once. Ever had splinters in the gills?”
“I can assure you I've never had that problem,” Apollyon grinned.
“Trust me, it is NOT fun.”
“Are you well, though?” Threadbare asked, settling back onto his bench.
“I am!” Fluffbear bounced in place a little. “Like I said before it's pretty good out here. The monsters get scary sometimes, but they're good exercise for the recruits.”
“Hmm... speaking of that,” Dracosnack said, and proceeded to tell her about the matterhorn attack.
“Oh wow! That is pretty close. And it's weird to run into three Matterhorns so close together. But then I guess it's mating season so it makes sense, you probably interrupted some married time for them.”
“Oh, that makes sense,” Glub said. “I'm glad we just ran them off, then.”
“They probably won't attack the wagon train when it comes, but I'll send a golem bird east to make sure they know there's 'horns on the route,” Fluffbear nodded. Then she stopped and considered. “Or I could go out there and tame one! Having a solidhorn around would help us build proper roads out this way!”
“That would be perfect! We could go and do that in a few days, and it would be very helpful,” Threadbare agreed.
Then he paused, as he remembered Celia's face. Remembered how she'd hugged him goodbye. “No. No, wait. We have a mission that we need to finish first. I need to go back home first, to make sure that everything's all right.”
“And we might want to tell her about that black wagon,” Buttons reminded him.
“Black wagon?” squeaked Fluffbear.
That was another story entirely, and she was frowning by the end of it. Well, as much as she could. Her eyebrows just weren't built to be angry, and her teeny little face could only scrunch so much.
“Some of the recruits came here with some pretty strange ideas,” Fluffbear said. “It didn't take a lot to teach them that they were wrong, but it still took time. I think someone's trying to pretend that we're doing some really bad things.”
“I think so too,” Threadbare nodded. “This is a very different sort of attack than we were expecting.”
“Attack?” Dracosnack asked.
“It's... difficult to explain without sounding horrible,” Threadbare said. “But basically we knew we didn't have to just win the war, three years ago. We would have to win the peace, as well.”
“Boss,” Glub said, gently, “maybe this is a story for another day. Got a mission to focus on first, yeah?”
Threadbare glanced around, and kept his thoughts to himself. He knew why Glub had cautioned him, and though he'd agreed with the others when they made the pact, he still wasn't comfortable about it. Keeping secrets, especially from good people, was against his nature. Toys were made to play with, and play was ultimately a form of education. In that sense, he had been made to help children learn, and he was surrounded by oh so many of his children.
“You're right, of course,” he nodded to Glub, and tapped his rod on the table. The clack made everyone jump, and he looked over to Fluffbear. “I don't suppose we can get a map? I think we can spend tonight putting together a plan, and head out in the morning...”