(FIC) REPOST: World Without Shrimp (1/?)

[PChazzman@xxxxxxx]

Yes, it's been a while but I finally managed to get a second chapter out on this one.  I figured a refresher on the first chapter would be needed.
Chazzman

TITLE: World Without Shrimp (1/?)
AUTHOR: Chazzman
E-MAIL: PChazzman@xxxxxxx  
DISCLAIMER: BTVS characters belong to Joss and the WB network. XXXenophile characters belong to Phil Foglio.  Please don't sue.
SPOILERS: Season 5.
SUMMERY: X-over with XXXenophile comics and maybe a few other things.
RATED: PG-13 at the moment.
DISTRIBUTION: Just ask me, please...
FEEDBACK: Is very welcome.



Chap 1

Sunnydale, Aug. 29 2001

She stared to the gravestone in front of her.  The hollowness inside her still resounding after all these months.  

"You should go home now.  I have to start patrolling soon, and it is not safe for you to be out," said a voice from behind her.

Willow closed her eyes and took a breath.  It hurt every time she saw or heard the Buffy-robot, but it was necessary to keep in check the vampire and demon population on the Hellmouth.  A tentative hand slipped into Willow's left hand and she gave it a squeeze in acknowledgement.  

"You've been gone for hours.  I got worried," murmured Tara as she stepped up beside her.

"I was gonna tell her about the courses we were gonna take but it just didn't seem important when I got here," a listless Willow whispered.  She turned towards Tara to embrace her, but Tara's gasp and look of fear stopped her short.

"W-what?"

"You're bleeding!" a horrified Tara stared at Willow.  Blood was dripping from her nose. Her shirt was saturated, as was the front of her pants.  Willow apathetically looked down and stared uncaringly at the puddle of blood at her feet.

"Oh.  Oops."

"Honey, what did you do?" gasped a frightened Tara only now noticing the paper in Willow's other hand and the empty vial at her feet.

But Willow couldn't answer as her body suddenly stiffened, her head arched backwards and her eyes went black.

"Willow!" cried out Tara as she grasped her lover with both hands.

Suddenly, there was a flash of light and the two witches disappeared.

The robot stared at the place where the two witches had been mere seconds ago.  It ran through its protocols to determine what it was supposed to do.  

It was an 'Undefined Incident' and the procedure was to 'Report to Willow'.  But Willow had disappeared along with her 'Tara = Lover'.  The robot switched to emergency contact mode and found 'Giles = Watcher' listed as the next person to contact after Willow.

Twirling her stake she set off for the Magic Box.

****

Mowbri smiled as she refilled the Dread Lord Hagamen's cup for the sixth time tonight.  She let out a giggle as she expertly twisted out of his grasp and moved on to fill Mogwain the Bloody's flask.  His tentacles were even more difficult to avoid, especially since he had close to a hundred of them.

Along the wall of the immense conference room, the 7-foot tall dark elf Feljikk gripped his giant broadsword harder and barely suppressed the growl that rose up from the sight of the diminutive Mowbri being so blatantly molested by the villains at the table.

"Easy, Elf," whispered the guard next to him.  "She's fine.  Don't go getting all worked up and blowing it."

"That's easy for you to say, Klazzmat," he growled back. "Your Mistress isn't the one being grappled by those bastards."

The Lizard-kin smiled, displaying a mouth filled with more than seemed natural sharp sparkly teeth. It was true, after all, as his Mistress Natch was one of the 'bastards' sitting at the table with 12 other warlords and masters of evil.  She had received an invitation to this gathering and had agreed to attend due to her curiosity over what Lord Fislgurp was after and who else might accept his proposal.

The other warlords were happy to dine on the massive repast that had been set before them, but they had to listen to Fislgurp's idea.  It was insanity, of course.  Each leader thought that the idea of a joint war force was fine as long as 'they' were the one in command, however none of the warlords present was in the slightest bit interested in taking orders from another.

The dread Lord Emperor Fislgurp sat at the head of the banquet table.  He stuffed another large slice of roasted Kimet beast into his mouth as he continued to speak, "No, no, no!...We've been over this. Only by joining our forces can we defeat the Palavium Collective."  Hamvar the Gronig leaned back to avoid the spray of food particles from Fislgurp as he spoke.  Fislgurp paused to shovel three small potatoes into his mouth before continuing with his speech.

Suddenly a flash of brilliant white light appeared over the table.  A portal appeared and a figure fell from into crashing to the table and splattering food in all directions.  

All of the warlords leapt away from the table, throwing themselves away from the possible danger and drawing their weapons.  The figure lay still upon the table and all eyes were fixed upon it until the sudden banging from the head of the table.  There the dread Lord Fislgurp was turning a rather unpleasant shade of reddish-purple as he toppled over, choking upon the piece Kimet beast that he had been eating.

"Treachery!" screamed someone and suddenly all was a blur as warlord fell upon warlord and mages fired off spells of protection and attack.  Personal guards of each warlord charged into the room, weapons drawn.

"Mistress!" yelled Klazzmat as he charged forward to extract his beloved from the fray.

"Mowbri!" called Feljikk as he cleft a troll guard in half with his 6-foot broadsword.

Fireballs, lighting and icestorms erupted in the room causing the even more chaos as tapestries were set on fire, furniture exploded into splinters and the floor became slick.

Mowbri peaked out from beneath the main table.  Everybody's attention seemed to be elsewhere so she peered over the edge to look at the figure on the table.  It appeared to be a human girl.  Although her hair was now mostly covered with gravy, she looked blonde and rather cute.  She also looked rather dead.  The eyes open and unblinking stare kind of gave that away.  That and the discoloration of her skin, although that could have been from the food.

Maybe Sooja or Otaz could do something about that.  Mowbri wasn't sure why but she was certain that the girl was important.

She heard Feljikk call her name again and gave a whistle.  Feljikk broke through the mob and charged to the head of the table where Mowbri had taken shelter.  

"Klazzmat! Natch!" he bellowed to be heard over the noise of the battle in the room.  The Lizardkin Klazzmat broke free of the mob with his Mistress Natch held over his shoulder.  Natch continued to hurl spells and epithets at the various other warlords and wizards as she was carried from the immediate battle.  Her sharp pointed teeth gleamed as she smiled maniacally in her battle rage.

"Natch, snap out of it," shouted Feljikk as he grabbed Mowbri with one outstretched hand and Klazzmat's tail with the other.  "Get us out of here!"  

Mowbri, realizing what Feljikk wanted Natch to do, lunged across the table to grasp the girl's hand just before she heard Natch cry out the spell command to teleport the group of them from the bloodbath in the castle.

****
End Part 1
TBC...