it was deleted, so i'm re-posting it. this is why it's important to save things.

Interactive Fanfic – Items of Power

By Jesse Russell
CHAPTER 1 – Bedtime Story
“Ah, that is indeed a very interesting question, and it has a very long answer.
You see, there were once three great magical races: the Fairies, the Teensies and of course – the Magicians. They were the keepers of peace and harmony in these three continents. Their powers were great, and together, few evils could survive for very long.
However, each great race drew its powers from a certain source. Although they still had power without these sources, it was the powers from which they drew that made them truly spectacular. Usually, the source they drew from depended on where they resided – the teensies, mainly populating the paradise continent of the North known as Polasia, drew their power from the Heart of the World – a great power source consisting of 1000 yellow lums. The fairies, depending on where they lived, either drew their power from the Heart of the World, or in the case of the limbless fairies here in Noped -“
“Wait, you mean there are fairies that have limbs?”
“Why, yes, just about everything in the other two continents have limbs. We, the inhabitants of Noped are in fact unique in our limbless-ness. Anyway…
The limbless fairies drew their power from the Great Protoon and the Electoons. And the magicians, as they existed solely here in Noped, also drew their power from the Protoon. Oh, and it’s important to remember that the power sources not only provide the magical beings with power, but also keep order in their relative continents. But you see, there’s a problem with relying on these sources. If the Great Protoon or the Heart of the World were damaged in any way, not only would the magical ones lose most of their power, but everything else would become unstable, and the relative continent would be thrown into chaos.”
“Wow. All this stuff is amazing. But, what does all this have to do with my question?”
“Be patient, I’m getting to that. I warned you that this would be a long story. Now where was I?”
“If the Protoon thingy or the Heart was damaged there’d be chaos.”
“Ah, yes, now I remember.
The three races were aware of this problem. They were doing well at defending the world so far, but what if their power sources were taken away? So, they needed a solution. After years of searching and reading, they stumbled upon an ancient legend, one even more ancient than they themselves. It spoke of certain items of power. Thirteen powerful objects that could possibly provide a new energy source – a backup plan; they could be used as insurance, something to fall back on.
So, they decided that this was exactly what they needed. After a meeting between the heads of each race, it had been decided that thirteen of the greatest magicians would search for these items. They were not to try to bring them back – they were just required to confirm their existence and discover their locations.
One of the magicians sent on this quest was Niken. Niken was a protégée: although he had only been practicing his powers for two years, he was already the 11th most powerful magician in the world. Some of those he surpassed had been in training for decades, centuries even, and yet he was superior. And yet he was humble, modest. And although he was great, he still needed to earn the respect of the older magicians, so he thought this quest was his perfect opportunity.
But alas, it seemed he was wrong. After a decade, all the magicians had found what they’d been looking for and returned - except for Niken. The last time he was seen was during his entry into a great temple known as the Sanctuary of Death and Shadow. For another five years the others waited for his return, and just as they were about to give up on him and send someone else, he emerged from the sanctuary.
But he had emerged a different man. His eyes, once a bright, happy green and always filled with inspiration, were now a pair of soulless pits. They were completely yellow, pupil and all, and with but a glance you could tell he was no longer the kind, gentle man he once was. The rest of his face – in fact the rest of his body – now hideously scarred, was hidden completely by a pitch black coat. And on top of his head, a large black hat now rested, so that the only part of him visible was his aforementioned eyes. Indeed, he was a different man – no longer Niken, but something else, something evil. For not even he called himself Niken any longer. From that day, he was known and feared by a simple, but evil name: Mr. Dark.”
“Yes, this is all very interesting, but when will you answer my question?”
“Soon. Very soon. Just listen, I’m almost done.
Shortly after emerging, Niken, now Mr. Dark, did something that would change the course of history. Over the next year he slaughtered all the other the magicians. He hunted them individually, taking them out one by one, until only one magician remained.”
“But wouldn’t that be two? Him and –“
“No. Mr. Dark was a magician no longer. He was evil, and the magicians are not evil. Therefore he was no longer a magician.”
“Oh, I see. But how could he have slaughtered them all? I thought Niken was only the 11th best magician. What about the other ten? Wouldn’t they have beaten him?”
“Ah well, Mr. Dark was much more powerful than the original Niken. He drew his power from a new, evil source and he used his power to kill – something the other magicians did not usually practice. Anyway, after the massacre, there was only one true magician left. He went into hiding for a long time while Dark searched and searched. But the last magician was too clever, and eventually, Mr. Dark gave up and retreated to his lair – a fortress built in the candy chateau.
And so there was only one magician left in the world. And as you can see from here, that magician is me. I am the last magician. Not a magician, but the magician. And that is what I have called myself ever since: The Magician.”
The magician finished his story, and for a short time there was silence, which was then broken by the young boy.
“And…?”
“And what?”
“What about my question?”
“I have answered your question.”
“No you haven’t! What’s your real[I/] name?”
“[I] The Magician[I/] is my real name. I have no other name.”
“Well, what were you called before that?”
“That’s none of your business!” the magician snapped suddenly. Then, quickly calming himself down, he changed his angry tone to one of gentle care. “Now go to sleep, it’s a big day tomorrow.”
“O.K.” the young boy replied with a yawn. “But just one more question: how do you know Mr. Dark’s face is hideously scarred if it’s completely hidden?”
“Hmmm”. The magician thought for a second. “Maybe another time. Goodnight.”
“Goodnight.”
[I] End of Chapter
Question 1: who is listening to the magicians story?

This message has been edited. Last edited by: aeojrtfao,

CHAPTER 2 – Nightmares
Everything looks sinister in the shadows. Even a harmless turtle looks dark and dangerous when the rays of the sun are not there. Standing in the shadows was a familiar-looking limbless being. However, even as this being stepped out from the shadows, he looked just as sinister and evil, perhaps more so. This was not Rayman.
His hair was red and spiky and his complexion darker. His gloves were a dark grey instead of white and short but sharp claws stuck out the ends of his fingertips. His hood is a very dark blue, and unlike Rayman, this being actually wore it over his head, thus shadowing his face, and making it seem even eviler. The shirt he wore on his torso was pitch black and featured a red, spiked ring. And his shoes were deep blue with a purple rim and red lightning like patterns., and featured short but sharp spikes underneath.

Through his deep red eyes he viewed the landscape below the cliff on which he stood. Before him, was the Fairy Glade. Most people, if they saw this view would say it was beautiful, breathtaking. But not him. To him it was simply a place where the real Rayman could be.
He leaped over the cliff, appearing suicidal. But bear metres off the ground he revealed another similarity to Rayman, as his spiky red hair spun rapidly like the blades of a helicopter and allowed him to glide to safety. And as he landed on the bright green grass below, he did something out of character.
He smiled. It’s fun time.
He quickly powered up a large ball of black and red energy and launched it in the general direction of a group of fairies. In one mighty explosion, a large pillar collapsed and the fairies panicked and scattered. In this fashion, he set about collapsing rock formations, burning trees and houses, and causing fear amongst the fairies. All the while he laughed maniacally, but after about ten minutes of random destruction, he stopped for a few seconds. Time to concentrate.
He then began threatening and torturing random people and asking them: “Where is Rayman!” a little later, after yelling his question at a dying, bloody-faced fairy, a different voice replied: “here I am”. The evil Rayman turned to see another being much like himself but with many notable differences. And although he had never seen him before, he knew that this was his target: this was Rayman.
“Who are you, and what do you want?” asked Rayman. He was furious at this evil version of himself and the destruction he was causing.
The evil Rayman dropped the fairy to the ground. And while powering up a humongous ball of energy yelled: “I WANT YOU DEAD!”
Rayman rolled to the side to dodge the ball being hurled towards and quickly powered up and fired one of his own. The evil Rayman jumped above it and in mid-air commenced bombarding Rayman with a hail of small energy shots. Rayman ran from the balls being launched at him and they seemed to follow him as evil Rayman continued his barrage. Then, when Rayman reached a wall, he ducked under the evil volley and fired a quick shot towards his attacker.
The abomination howled as he is struck in the face and fell over backwards. As he stood up he saw Rayman running towards him. Quickly he powered up a blast behind his back and just as Rayman was upon him –
BANG!!!!!!
Rayman was struck at point blank range and was knocked off his feet and then back about ten or twenty metres and hit his head on a rocky wall. For a split second he saw nothing but black.
And after that: the evil Rayman standing over him.
And after that: only fire.
And after that: nothing.

Polokus awoke from his nightmare in a sweat. He was worried, for his dreams had created this world and everything in it, and it had been his nightmares that created many of the more sinister inhabitants. What if this Rayman-like abomination came to be? He looked down to see the four masks that once awoke him from his very deepest sleep. With this, he came up with a plan to stop the creation of evil by him.

Although not that night, Rayman had also woken in sweat the night before. For the past three weeks, he’d been having a nightmare over and over. Every night, it would be exactly the same, almost as though someone was using some sort of power to put this nightmare into his mind.
Surprisingly however, although it was becoming repetitive, Rayman actually enjoyed the nightmare, for his actual life had become boring. The world was safe from evil, but now he had nothing to do. His life had been completely unexciting since the defeat of the rabbids, and even that adventure, although rather amusing, was unexciting. Those things were far too stupid to ever pull off an invasion. If they hadn’t captured him, he probably wouldn’t have bothered with them, and his decision to infiltrate their base was mainly just for something to do.
But now he was totally bored. He missed the thrill of adventure – there’s nothing like almost being killed to make you feel alive (which is quite ironic actually). He needed something to fill the urge – to give him that rush of adrenaline. And the nightmares were the closest he could get. And so, that night he went to sleep, ready for some slight thrill, hoping it would be different to the twenty-one nights before it. However he didn’t have any nightmares that night. But Polokus did.
Shortly after, something happened in the Cave of Bad Dreams. The cave is where the creatures generated by Polokus’ nightmares are formed. The Guardian, Eig, is a terrible monster, whom most people think is there to stop people getting in. but they are wrong - he is there to stop things getting out. And inside the cave, a new creature was formed. But it was not one of the typical round, green, one eyed monsters that infest the cave. It was the evil abomination of Polokus’ most recent nightmare. It was Nightmare Rayman. And going through his mind were two words, inspired by the dream that created him:
Kill Rayman.
End of Chapter

CHAPTER 3 – A Mysterious Voice
Many people have a little voice in the back of their head. For some, it’s merely their subconscious, indicating that something your doing isn’t right. Sometimes it can be the reverse of that – something telling you to go on, to pursue something that your morals make you reluctant to follow. And then of course there are those that are simply insane – a defect of the mind that results in the affected person being insulted or mislead by the voices they here. Some of these insane people claim that they are being told this by actual people. Although they are not believed, some are telling the truth…

Patience Andre, the time will come soon. however, the chief of the black lums was beginning to lose his patience. The voice in his head had been saying this for a while now. It kept telling him to wait – but for what? He was sick of waiting, but somehow, the voice kept him in his place, virtually controlling him, restricting him from taking action; but in a calm, reassuring way that made it sound trustworthy.
He looked through the eye holes of his blue Officer outfit at the privates and soldiers around him. Nearly all of them had impatient looks in their eyes which could only mean one thing: they too were growing tired of this. It was cold in the Hoodlum HQ, as it was situated in the Icy Mountains, near the top of the tallest mountain: a great peak known as the summit beyond the clouds. It was very cold indeed, and it was getting to them. Frostbitten wings was no way to keep up troop morale, but the voice assured him that heating the base (which was usually done by filling it with a boiling red acid) would alert the outside world to their activities.
So, Andre and his Hoodlum army waited. Soon, his army would be released upon the world once again. And once he found a decent power source, he would be able to reproduce infinitely, creating a never ending and therefore unstoppable force. Not even Rayman could oppose him then. Sure, he had in the past, but that was just as he had found his power. This time he would face the full might of the black lums. Now, he just had to wait…

Admiral Razorbeard stared through the cabin window of his new Prison Ship – the ”Bladed Avenger” at the world below. Somewhere down there was a creature. A creature of unimaginable skill and power. A being capable of easily defeating legions of troops.
A puny, limbless creature that somehow defeated him and his humongous army of Robo-Pirates.
It was Rayman. Last time Razorbeard had come to the planet, he had made great progress in either killing or enslaving the majority of the population until somehow, some little limbless man got past his forces and awoke the planets god who totally destroyed his legions.
What’s worse was that he practically did it alone – one against thousands – and won.
But the very worst part was that – Razorbeard knew – even though many more would have died, eventually, god or no god, Rayman would have won anyway.
Now, he had returned, his army bigger and better than ever. Not one, but five Prison Ships, and an accompanying fleet of warships that was hundreds strong. His army had multiplied tenfold, and his technology far more advanced. But still he had doubts. “What about Polokus?” he had questioned. But the voice assured him that would be taken care of. Now, he was just waiting for the order.
End of Chapter
Question 3: What gave me the idea for Mr. Dark’s “real” name, Niken?

CHAPTER 4 – The Distraction
Upon reflection, it didn’t look like anything at all. But in his boredom, Rayman was beginning to become desperate to find anything interesting. Often he would lay on the ground and look for shapes in the clouds, but today, not even that would suffice. Each cloud was just a random, boring blob of white. He thought that perhaps, if that cloud was over there, and that one was a bit closer, and then end bit wasn’t there and…but nothing. He sighed, and then said aloud: “if something doesn’t happen soon I’m going back to the Desert of the Knaaren.”
Currently he was lying on the beach near the Minisaurus Plains. He looked over to see a little motor boat near the pier. Once, the mosquito Bzzzit had used that boat to take Rayman to the Lost Island to retrieve the first Mask of Polokus from the Sanctuary of Water and Ice. After reminiscing about that past adventure, he sighed yet again. They were terrible times, but in their own way, better than this.
Finally, he decided the only thing to do was sleep. So he got himself comfortable, closed his eyes and started to relax. As he started to tire, he began to yawn and eventually, he got to sleep.
But no sooner than that, he found himself awoken by a loud buzzing in his ear. Annoyed, he opened his eyes to the end of a mosquito’s proboscis in his face. Startled, he jumped back a metre or so and prepared to strike, but before launching noticed who it was: not just a mosquito, but Mos Kito, a friend he had made during his first adventure. “Oh, it’s just you. What are you doing here?” Rayman asked.
Mos Kito lowered his hands from his face (which he had there in defense from Rayman’s possible attack) and after recovering from shock, he began to explain. “Back home there’s a bunch of guys running around wrecking havoc.”
“Aaaaaaaaaaaaand you want me to get rid of them?”
“well obviously.”
“YESSSSS!” Rayman shouted in excitement. Mos Kito, startled, looked at Rayman in confusion. He had no idea of Rayman’s horrible boredom, and how much he needed something to do. “So who are they anyway?” Rayman enquired.
“Well,” Mos Kito began, “we’re not quite sure. But we think they may be fanatics of Mr. Dark. But there’s a problem with that: Dark hasn’t been at large for years. Why would a group like this surface now?”
“Hmmm…” Rayman pondered this for a moment. He then decided he didn’t particularly care, he just wanted a piece of the action, and so (excitedly) asked: “so are we going or what?”
“What?” Mos Kito was startled further and still confused. “What’s the hurry? Oh well…” he then turned around and pointed his back to Rayman. “If you’re so eager, hurry up and jump on, I’ll fly you there.”
Rayman happily accepted this invitation and before long, they were speeding away from the Polasian coastline on their way to Rayman’s home continent of Noped. The wind was rushing into his face, pushing his hair behind is head so that it was waving around like a pair of thick yellow ribbons. His eyes were closed once again, not for sleep, but instead to increase the excitement, to really get his heart pumping and get some adrenaline through his limbless body. This was the life!

Meanwhile, in a makeshift fort in situated in a particularly isolated swamp in the Dream Forest, a cloaked man paced back and forth, awaiting the return of his troops. His aforementioned cloak was a long, black piece of attire that was topped with a high collar that encircled the back half of the wearer’s neck. Not that his neck was visible anyway – a black hood, much like those worn by the privates of the hoodlum’s (actually, it was one of those worn by the hoodlum’s only it had been dyed) covered his entire head, neck and part of his shoulders, and unlike his cloak, which was a sign of rank, the same style of hood was also worn by the other members of the clan.
Xulk was the Clan Commander of the “Walkers of the Dark Path”. The Walkers were a large gang of Mr. Dark fanatics who had dedicated their lives avenging their idol. Their Clan had been founded quite suddenly, or so it would seem to most. Many, many years after Dark’s defeat by Rayman (who they called “The Great Light”, which to them was a terrible insult) they came together out of the blue, carrying out some (much delayed) vengeance on the inhabitants of the continent. Not even Xulk really knew what had inspired him to form the Walkers – one day, he just woke up one day and really – really – felt like the time had come for revenge. He thought the idea was a message sent from Mr. Dark himself, and this is what he told the others, and so they followed him. He felt that his clan had a real part in Mr. Dark’s grand plan for returning.
As a sign of his commanding rank, he wore his cloak. He and everyone else in the clan believed it to be the cloak worn by Dark himself. Xulk found it on the ground in picture city on the morning of his inspiration and thought it had been left by Dark for him to find so he could prove that he had been sent by him. And although it was really just an old black cloak, the others believed him like he believed himself, and the Clan was formed, and he was their leader.
At the moment, Xulk paced up and down the throne room, which doubled as a shrine to Mr. Dark. A written history of Dark’s Legacy was recorded around the walls which concluded in a prophecy that he would return and become victorious. Various paintings and sculptures of Dark and his creations and minions littered the room, each worked to make the figure look mighty.
On the back wall were three large pictures. On the left was a portrait of Rayman, with a great beam of light shining on him. However, it was done so that Rayman not only looked evil, but also puny and cowardly. Even the rays of light somehow looked twisted and wrong. Whoever painted it was very passionate about both his cause and his art. On the right was another picture seemingly made by the same artist. It portrayed Mr. Dark holding the great protoon, and in contrast to the one of Rayman, it made him look great and all-powerful – a mighty god of darkness. Again, it was painted so that darkness and shadow looked like glorious things unlike how most people think of them. And the last picture – again probably from the same artist – lay in the centre of the two, and portrayed the almighty Mr. Dark standing over the bloody corpse of the puny, cowardly Rayman. This work was entitled “Future”.
Finally, in the centre of the room, in front of six pike poles bearing replicas of Rayman’s body parts, was a great throne. Xulk never actually sat in the throne. Instead, he sat in a smaller chair next to it, as the throne was reserved for Dark himself. But as Xulk awaited the return of the task force he sent to harass the villagers in the Blue Mountains, both seats were empty. He was becoming anxious – they should have been back by now. What was taking them so long?
Just then, the massive doors of the shrine began to open, revealing a figure just outside the doorway. Xulk stared in disbelief. “Oh my…” he began “it can’t be!”
End of Chapter
Question 4: Where does the name “Xulk” come from?

IMPORTANT: (In this Fanfic) there are three known continents. They are:
Noped: the limbless continent, the balance of the continent is sustained by the great protoon. Contains all levels from Rayman 1.
Polasia: The paradise continent that Polokus took special care in creating. The balance and power is sustained by the Heart of the World. Contains all levels from Rayman: Revolution, The Fairy Council (in the fairy glade), Clearleaf Forest and the Longest Shortcut (a teensie palace).
The Waste: the wasteland continent containing hostile environments. No central power source – only strength survives. Contains all remaining Rayman 3 levels (Bog of Murk, Knaaren Desert, Land of the Livid Dead, Summit beyond the clouds (in the icy mountains) Hoodlum HQ, Leptys tower) as well as the Great Desert (the desert levels and mines in RRR).
This should help the story make more sense.

CHAPTER 5– Into The Fray
Mos Kito landed on top of a large, blue, rocky pillar. They had been told by some locals that the gang had last been seeing leaving the Blue Mountains Village in the direction of The Dream Forest. And so, they had searched, and sure enough, they found them setting up camp in a small canyon about a day’s march from the village.
Rayman’s initial reaction was one of laughter. They were some of the silliest guys he had seen – to him, they looked like a cross between a hoodlum and a hunter. But Mos Kito had seen them before, and the havoc they had caused – although it was only due to sheer mass they were so scary. They were otherwise useless – a motley bunch of poorly armed, dim-witted fools.
“I think their HQ is somewhere in the Dream Forest” he informed Rayman, “they send out task forces such as this to harass villages, burn crops and otherwise be a pain in the rear. Be careful with them, they could easily overwhelm you. Anyway, I’m outta here.”
“What!” exclaimed Rayman. “Aren’t you going to help me?”
“Sorry Rayman, but my nest needs to be protected. They tried to burn it down last week, and I like my nest the way it is.”
“Oh, Ok. Bye then.” With that, Mos Kito flew off waving his hand goodbye. Then, Rayman turned his attention to the small army below. His want for a thrill made him consider jumping down there and taking them out, but his sense of reason made him reconsider – but he’d already jumped off. He landed on his feet, courtesy of his magical helicopter-hair, but he still made a loud enough noise to attract the attention of one of the sentries, who raised the alarm immediately, before taking out his blunderbuss and aiming at where Rayman…used to be.
The sentry suddenly became confused, as the intruder he had sighted had disappeared in the second he turned away to press the alarm button. He then announced to the troops he had awoken, and who had finally gotten up, gotten dressed and armed themselves, that the intruder had run away and he’s gotten them up for nothing. Annoyed and/or angry, the troops marched back into their tents, but not for long as the sentry’s viewing tower fell on top of one, killing its occupants and the sentry.
Suddenly the whole camp was up again and searching for Rayman. After a few minutes, their anger faded to fear, as they tried to imagine what could possibly avoid them so easily – killing one minute, disappearing the next.
“It’s a ghost! It has to be!”
“He must be some kind of monster!”
“We’re all gonna die!”
“GHOST!”
“It’s Mr. Dark! We’ve failed him!”
“Please forgive us master!”
“Whatever it is, it’ll kill us all!”
“SILENCE!!!”
And then there was silence, as everyone turned to face a figure standing in the middle of the camp. In their panic they hadn’t realized that dozens more corpses of their brethren now littered the camp – a path of dead bodies, crushed tents and fallen towers leading right up to the feet of a yellow-haired man in a purple shirt.
The survivors we’re shocked. Each and every one of them stared in disbelief, some no longer able to grip their guns, others even fainting. It was the Great Light – it was Rayman. “Looking for someone?” Rayman taunted them.
With this, most of them regained their senses and suddenly a hail of bullets was flying from all directions towards Rayman. But he was quick, jumping over the hail of fire so that many of them shot each other across the camp. Skillfully twisting around and moving his body parts, Rayman managed to evade a continued barrage of firepower, slowly knocking out those who weren’t shot by their own men. Eventually, only one of them remained standing, although it wasn’t long before he was kneeling.
“Please, spare me!” he pleaded, tears forming in his eyes. “I don’t want to die! I’ll do anything! ANYTHING!”
“Ok.” Rayman said simply. “I’ll spare you if you can tell me this: Where is your HQ”
The survivor sighed with relief. Pushing his hand into his pocket (a shirt pocket obviously) he pulled out a map of the Dream Forest, clearly indicating the location of ‘The Walkers of the Dark Path: Main Fortress’. “so, you will spare me?” he questioned desperately.
“I will spare you” Rayman replied. He then began to smile as he looked over to the canyon entrance, where an angry mob of surviving villagers, armed to the teeth with makeshift weapons, was entering the campsite. “But I doubt they will.” At that, he strolled of, as the mob began killing off those that had merely fainted or been knocked out.
End of Chapter
Competition 1: Razorbeard’s new army consists of 5 prison ships. His command ship is the “Bladed Avenger” . instead of a question, the reward will go to whoever thinks of the best name for the any of the other 4 ships. Note that this will slightly affect the story, as the ships will actually be named accordingly. So remember to post your ideas, as well as you’re comments!

competition won. winner was rayman4_121 with razorcruizer.

CHAPTER 6 – Infiltration
A lone soldier wandered through the fortress doors of the “Walkers of the Dark Path”. Like the others, a big black hood sat on top of his head. Like the others, he carried a large blunderbuss in his hands. But unlike the others, he didn’t need it – it was just part of the disguise. If the others looked carefully enough, they would have seen the large bulge where the nose should be. Or perhaps if they peered through the eye-holes they’d have seen the strips of yellow hair coming over his eyes.
But rather than spending their funds on military equipment, medical advancement or hi-tech security, the Walkers instead bought the materials necessary to build sculptures and portraits of the one and only Mr. Dark. As such, there were no advanced cameras to pick up these anomalies – and they had no way of detecting that they had been infiltrated at all, let alone by their greatest enemy.
Wandering through the entrance hall of the fort, Rayman quickly gathered this for himself, judging by the grandness of the artworks and the general shoddiness of everything else. Many portraits of himself also littered the area, but they portrayed him as some sort of demonic but cowardly shrimp, bathing in a disgusting light. Shortly after shuddering at the sight of this, an actual walker approached in a worried looking manner.
“Where are the others?” he questioned. It was obvious he and the others had all been panicking.
“They suffered a fate rather similar to this”. Before the soldier could ask what was meant by this, Rayman punched him – hard – in the stomach causing him to drop to the ground in an instant. Unfortunately, another Walker that was previously unnoticed by Rayman witnessed the event and ran off and in a matter of seconds, he was back with a small squad of others. His cover already blown, Rayman quickly removed his disguise (which only obscured his vision anyway) and began dodging the volleys of shots that started flying towards him.
Due to the poorly designed nature of their weapons, it wasn’t long before his enemies started to run out of ammunition, and a few began to pull out an assortment of lead pipes, spiked cudgels and chains, and began to advance. However, they were advancing cautiously, and from what little could be seen of their faces, it was clear they were afraid.
A smile began to appear on Rayman’s face. They were afraid of him. This wasn’t going to be hard. So, he began powering up both his fists, ready to strike, which resulted in the even slower advance of his enemies. Finally, one of them, who had armed himself with a large pitchfork, charged towards Rayman screaming. But just as he was about to strike, a quick, pre-powered blow to the ribs silenced him instantaneously. But before he finally collapsed, a few more had finally decided to run forward.
The first was knocked out cold from a hit to the head, courtesy of Rayman’s powering up earlier on. The second was not disadvantaged by this and began swinging a large chain towards Rayman’s head. With no time to charge another fist, Rayman raised his head so that the chain went through where Rayman’s neck should have been and struck the one next to him, who was about to bring a lead pipe down onto Rayman’s skull. A quick volley of fireballs then reduced the chain-wielding survivor to an unconscious heap as well as continuing past him to injure a few more. It wasn’t long after that before the others were beaten up, burned or had otherwise been injured by their fellows.
After a quick “woohoo!” Rayman began running out of the hall and into a corridor. After a short walk, the corridor ended with another perpendicular hall than ran in two directions. Usually in this situation, one would be wondering which way to go, but he was distracted by the hordes of walkers that stretched to the very end of the hall in each direction and around the corner – a mass of hoods, makeshift weapons blunderbusses.

Meanwhile, in two completely different places, two completely different people heard the exact same thing at the exact same time: Now.

On sight, the entire formation yelled “ATTACK!” at the top of their lungs and began to run down the corridor. The front members of the left group threw some makeshift explosives towards their target. One exploded on impact when it hit the ground – intended to bounce, but instead just detonated several metres short, taking out another with it. A particularly bouncy one then flew right past Rayman and landed somewhere amongst the soldiers on the right. The explosion could not be seen behind the hordes of troops, but it was certainly heard, along with the screams of its victims.
It was then that he noticed two odd-looking bombs at his feet. On reflex, he kicked one of them back where it came from, having a similar but less drastic effect than the bouncy one. But just as he was about to kick the next, he realized that the fuse was just about to burn out. shutting his eyes tight he braced for impact and awaited death.
But it didn’t come. After hearing a low ‘poof’, he opened his eyes again and realized what had happened. It was a total dud. On the other hand, the twin hordes were almost upon him, so he quickly ran – backwards – down the corridor. But once he turned around, he discovered a predicament. Seemingly out of nowhere, another large force now occupied the entrance hall. After looking carefully, it became clear they had come up through some sort of trapdoor. So they did have strategy after all…
The Walkers from the trapdoor then yelled “ATTACK”, almost religiously, along with a second scream from the force behind Rayman. Now completely surrounded and confined to a small corridor, he feared for the worst. Nevertheless, he prepared for battle and began charging his accumulation fireball attack. However, he knew that it would never fend off two unending forces of the Walkers, no matter how poorly armed (one had a plastic fork!) they were. He launched his massive ball of energy towards the nearest crowd, the ones from the hall, where it exploded taking out almost ten of them. But it was no good. He was about to give up hope when he heard a much less disciplined yell:
“ATTACK!”
Surprised, both forces stopped temporarily and the hall occupants turned around to face the door. At that moment, a totally different force appeared with their own makeshift weapons, and began butchering and clubbing the front ranks of Walkers. It was the Blue Mountains villagers along with many more enraged locals. This was all Rayman needed to get him going again. He began firing balls in every direction, taking out many an enemy. He could have done this before, but if not for his reinforcements from outside, the Walkers would have gained on him faster than he took them out.
Fortunately, that little army had arrived. The corridor force was not slowed by them however which forced Rayman out into the hall, but now he had the upper hand. Slowly, the enemy force began to diminish, until the only ones remaining were Rayman and the Walkers’ old, vengeful victims. After thanking them for the help, Rayman began to run through the maze off corridors and rooms that represented the Walkers’ fort.
On the way, he encountered a few surviving guards, but they were defeated with ease. Finally, Rayman found himself before a pair of humongous doors. After destroying the outer lock, he pushed the doors, and they began to open slowly, until finally they revealed the large room behind.
“Oh my…it can’t be!”
End of Chapter
Question 5: Who received the order?

CHAPTER 7 – End of the Path
Xulk stared in disbelief and fear. Somehow, his fortress had been infiltrated, his army had been defeated and his shrine to Mr. Dark had been discovered by one man.
Rayman too stared in disbelief, but fear was out of the question. The man in the centre of the room before him was like a cross between a hoodlum and Mr. Dark. Frankly, he thought that Xulk required a hat rather than a hood. “So,” he said, “you’re the leader right?”
“NO!” Xulk said angrily, “Mr. Dark is our leader.”
“Mr. Dark hasn’t been seen for years!” Rayman replied with a chuckle.
“That may be true,” Xulk agreed, “but he will return! He will kill you himself, and then lead us to victory!”
“Yeah, well I hate to burst your bubble, but you’re the only Walker left, so if that does happen, he certainly won’t be leading you to victory.”
“Oh no”, Xulk corrected, “we will rebuild our forces! And then Mr. Dark will sit in that very throne and command us as we conquer the world! Vengeance will be ours!”
“What, that throne?” Rayman asked, pointing at the overly-decorated chair that was to be Dark’s throne. “Let’s see about that.” With that he shot a fireball at said throne, blowing it to pieces.
“Noooooooooooo!”
“And I really don’t see that happening”, he said, while destroying a portrait of himself being killed by Dark. “And those minions?” he said indicating at various statues around the shrine. “I defeated them loooooooong ago, in a fashion similar to this.”
Xulk screamed in painless agony as Rayman destroyed all the sculptures one by one with his bare hands. It wasn’t long before he’d destroyed everything else in the room, save for Xulk himself. “Curse you!” he screamed. Then he regained his composure. “Ok, maybe Dark won’t kill you after all.” Rayman wondered why he said this in such a calm manner. Wouldn’t that be a bad thing for him? Unless…
It was then that Rayman felt a something smash him in the back of the head, causing him to fall on the ground face first. Barely conscious, he turned his head and looked up at his attacker, to see one of the hammer-wielding clowns he fought once at the candy chateau. Rayman was wrong: Xulk wasn’t the last of the Walkers of the Dark Path after all. Just as it raised the hammer again for a second strike, Rayman’s vision returned to normal and his senses were regained, and he quickly tripped the clown with his left foot.
Jumping back up, Rayman realized he was surrounded by many more clowns, as well as some flying bomber-clowns above him. Fortunately for him, Xulk had also been wrong – Rayman didn’t defeat the army by himself. And proof of this fact, in the form of an angry mob burst through the door – just in time – and continued the massacre they had began back in the mountains. Unfortunately, the clowns were a lot more skilled in combat than your average Walker, and the mob struggled against their massive hammers.
But, once again, Rayman had been saved, and it was time to return the favor. Diving into the action, he began a limbless dance of destruction. In a quick flurry of strikes, he knocked the heads off several clowns (which isn’t all that hard because they’re not attached anyway) and disarmed several more. In this fashion, along with the combined force of the mob, the clowns were starting to drop like flies. However, the mob was also sustaining many injuries and even a few deaths. When Rayman stumbled across the corpse of a villager, it distracted him for a moment – which was all a nearby clown needed to knock him out with a blow to the head.

Several hours later, Rayman regained consciousness. By the look of the room, the mob had won, but with heavy losses – his ears were throbbing with the sounds of pained moans, and many mobsters had been reduced to limping across the now bloodstained floor. The healthy ones (or at least healthy enough) had either started caring for those more severely wounded or moving the bodies of the unconscious and deceased. And a few, it seemed, had tied up poor old Xulk and had begun torturing him.
“You won’t get away with this,” he announced, satisfied that he was correct, “Mr. Dark will return, and he will make each and every one of you suffer!” After that, he appeared to lose all sanity and reason and began laughing maniacally in between his pained screams.
Now fully recovered, Rayman stood up and began to leave this scene of death and pain. A lump had formed on the back of his head from where he had been hit (“wow”, he thought, “I just survived to hammer blows to the head!”) and he rubbed it gently to ease the pain. Outside the fort, he found Mos Kito again, who had apparently come to pick him up and take him back. Rayman thanked him and jumped on, and less than an hour later, he found himself back at the pier.
“Bye Rayman! Just call me if you need to get somewhere, ok!”
“Alright! Bye, thanks!”
Waving happily, Mos Kito disappeared over the horizon. It was then that Rayman came to an annoying realization: now he had nothing to do again. He then yawned, initially thinking it was in anticipation of the boredom ahead. But then looking up to see a darkening sky, he realized that night had almost come again after a busy day, and found that he was really quite tired. So tired in fact, that he couldn’t be bothered going anywhere, and just collapsed where he stood, falling to sleep instantly.

But only hours later, he woke up after hearing some familiar sounding footsteps. Realizing what had caused them, he decided not to move, and pretended he was still asleep, but listened intently. The footsteps stopped, seemingly near him, and Rayman was pretty certain they were looking right at him.
“Hey, we found someone!” a monotonous, robotic voice announced.
“Wait, isn’t this Rayman?” a second said, seemingly becoming excited.
Rayman began to feel fear creep up in him, until the first replied “nah, Rayman wears a scarf. This guy wears a hood.”
“oh yeah…” said the second, disappointed.
Then a third one entered the conversation: “should we kill him anyway?”
“No, we’ll take him back to the’ Razorcruizer’,” the first answered.
Rayman heard them begin to walk closer, and sprang into action – and into the air, kicking the head off one of the robots. Upon landing, Rayman than ducked beneath two sharpened hooks, which then collided just above his head, causing one of the hooks to detach from the robots arm.
The now hook-less robot, after recovering from the shock tried to fire at Rayman, only to realize that he had no gun arm. So instead, he tried swiping with his other (hook-less) arm only to realize it had also been detached. Completely defenseless, he decided the best idea was to get his hydraulically operated legs moving as quickly as possible, only to find he didn’t have any of those either. In fact, it appeared that in a very short time, he had been knocked into six separate pieces, just like his attacker, except that he couldn’t keep them floating together.
The surviving pirate then decided to attack Rayman while his back was turned but instead was blown apart himself by the headless robot, who had taken to shooting wildly in the hope of hitting something. Before things got too out of hand, Rayman subdued the robot, which meant blowing it to bits with a fireball. Looking around, Rayman observed the piles of wreckage around him. He then looked up to see the small, green, flying form of Murphy (his “favorite”/only instructor).
“Rayman!” the Greenbottle cried, “The Robo-Pirates have returned!”
End of Chapter
Question 6: Can you guess whose corpse Rayman stumbled across?

CHAPTER 8 – Enemies Return
“Oh really,” Rayman said sarcastically (and angrily), “I had no idea!”
Looking around briefly, Murphy came to realize what was meant by this. “oh, I see.”
The pair set off for the fairy council, where there was a small meeting happening soon to work out a plan of attack – or, more specifically for now, a plan of survival. On the way, Murphy explained what Rayman had missed while battling the Walkers.
“A new factory!” Rayman exclaimed.
“Yes” Murphy said worriedly. “Right in the middle of the Menhir Hills. Also, they’ve gotten their old factory up and running as well as most of their old buildings. In a few hours, they’ve managed to already pick up where they left off before Polokus got them, and then some.”
“Speaking of whom,” Rayman began, “Let’s go get Polokus to destroy them all again. Why hasn’t he yet?”
“Ah…well…”
“What, the pirates got him already!”
“Yeah…but…that was after he got rid of his powers-“
“What?’
“He was having some nightmares and he was worried they might make some really bad monsters, so he transferred all his power into the masks and put them back in the sanctuaries.”
After reflecting upon the circumstances Rayman came to a conclusion: “Oh dear god…this is really bad.”

Hours later, they arrived at the Fairy Council, a small city of enchanted buildings that lay in the beautiful Fairy Glade. After traversing a series of ancient passageways, Rayman and Murphy found themselves in the Heart of the World, where the meeting was to be held. The Heart was a wonderful sight. The thousand yellow lums were packed so tightly that they appeared as one massive ball of yellow light.
Gathered around it were a few teensies, including the king (or at least the one who had the crown at the moment), a few fairies including Ly, a few other assorted creatures and now, Rayman and Murphy. Each and every one had a worried expression on their face, but their expressions lightened a little when the great hero Rayman finally entered the room.
“Finally, you’re here big-nose!” the King teensie announced. “Now we can begin the meeting!”
“Hey!” shouted Rayman, annoyed, “Why do you guys always call me big-nose? Haven’t you ever looked in a mirror?”
Insulted, the king opened his mouth to rebuttal, but the others signaled to him not to. “Uh, anyway, as you all should know, Razorbeard and the Robo-Pirates have returned to our world with an even bigger army and have already gotten back everything they had before. And worse still, Polokus is now out of the picture. What are we going to do?”
“We have to protect as many as possible!” a different teensie announced, “We all know that their main objective is to take as many slaves as possible, so we should try to prevent this!”
“But how can we protect them?” said another, “We have no way of keeping the inhabitants of the world safe by ourselves! We need reinforcements!”
“From where?” the first questioned.
“The pirates have only really settled in Polasia so far” the second answered back “so we’ll just have to get help from Noped and the Waste!”
“What? Are you two mad?” a third teensie joined the arguments. The other members of the meeting shook their heads disapprovingly; can’t the teensies do anything without arguing? “We should take out the factories! Problem solved!”
“But to do that we need an army!”
“And if we protect everyone, we’ll have one”
“But-“
“No-“
“Let’s-“
The argument continued for several minutes until suddenly another teensie, wearing a hat made from thick tropical (or oasis) tree leaves, burst into the room puffing. “I bring news from the waste!” he announced, “Andre has returned with a new army of Hoodlums and has taken over most of the continent!”
“Hoodlums!” Rayman said, evidently shocked, “What’s next? More Rabbids?”
“Daaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!”
Shocked and surprised, everyone turned their head towards the source of the noise to see Murphy laughing hysterically. Annoyed, Rayman punched him out of the air, and just as he got back up, Rayman remembered the string of insults he received from Murphy last time he was in the Council, and punched him again.
“Ow…” he said to himself. “But wait, this changes everything! What if Andre finds a power source?”
“Well we don’t need to worry about that” said the king teensie, “all the power sources are over here in Polasia with a nice big army of Pirates unknowingly protecting them. I mean, the masks are back in the sanctuaries, the Heart of the World is in the newly-fortified fairy council surrounded by the pirate occupied glade. All the power sources are protected from one enemy by the other.”
“Not quite” said a voice from the back of the room. Turning their heads, the party saw the Magician. Nobody had seen him come in, so he’d probably warped himself there. “Does anyone remember our little quest for the items of power?”
End of Chapter
Question 7: here’s something you won’t find in the text. In fact, I don’t know the answer. BUT the reward goes to whoever can tell me the name of the third teensie doctor in Rayman 3. Is he ever named at all?

CHAPTER 9 – Why?
“So, why do you always wear that big hat?” the young Rayman asked.
“Well” the magician began, “it signifies me as being a magician. Also I can use it to travel very quickly.”
“But why does it cover your face? How can you see?”
“Uh…um…I can see through it…kind of…”
“Kind of?”
“It’s hard to explain.”
“But why does it have to cover your face? Wouldn’t you be able to see better that way?”
“What? Uh…no, no. Why does it matter?”
“I’m just curious as to why you cover your whole face with a big stupid hat.”
“Maybe I’ll tell you about it more another time.”
“Oh yeah! That reminds me, you said yesterday that another time you’d tell me how you know Dark’s face is scarred even though its covered!”
“Yeah…so?”
“Now’s another time! So, how do you know?”
“Hmmm…not now.”
“Why not?”
“It’s none of your business, that’s why!” This outburst managed to upset the young Rayman. “Look,” the magician said, “I’m sorry, but there are some things that I’m just not ready to tell you just now.”
“When will you be ready?”
“I don’t know Rayman.”
“Oh. Well, yesterday you also said Mr. Dark didn’t get his power from the same source anymore. Where does he get his power from now?”
“He gets his power from something inside the sanctuary of Death and Shadow. He’s been trying to get it ever since.”
“But why does he need to have it?”
“Well, it’s one thing to draw power from it from a distance, but if he were to physically hold it in his hands…well…”
“What?”
“It wouldn’t be good.”
“That’s bad.”
The magician chuckled at this. “Yes, that’s bad. Anyway, time for you to get to sleep.”
“Alright. Just one more question: you said Niken was the 11th best Magician, but what were you?”
“Hmmm…what do you think?”
“Judging from what I’ve seen you do…how many magicians were there?”
“A little over two-hundred.”
“Then you were probably the 199th!”
The magician chuckled. “So, it seems I’m yet to earn your respect! In time, I suppose…anyway, for the last time, goodnight!”
“Goodnight!”
Rayman rolled over and closed his eyes as the Magician exited the room. Outside the door, was Betilla the fairy, who looked quite amused at what had recently been said.
“199th!” she said chuckling, but so Rayman couldn’t here.
“Hm. But I do think we definitely chose the right one.”
“Huh? Why?”
“Why? Why!? Why. That’s why.”
End of Chapter
Question 8: The Limbless continent is called Noped. Why?

CHAPTER 10 – The Items of Power
“We’re not supposed to talk about that!” said the King teensie.
Different people had different feelings about this comment, but a general feeling of discomfort could be felt throughout the room. The fairies and teensies all looked annoyed, Murphy and those of others simply confused, while Rayman couldn’t understand the cause for either of these expressions. The magician however looked the same as always. His face portrayed an image of relaxed seriousness, although perhaps if his eyes weren’t covered, they would tell a different story.
“Why not!” he said. “Now it’s more important than ever! If either enemy stumbles across them, we’re in a lot of trouble!”
“What are you talking about?” a creature from across the room enquired. He had a long neck and green skin, and his head resembled that of a lizard. Apparently, he was the leader of a small colony of similar beings, all of the same species as Razoff, the rich hunter in the bog of murk.
“The items of power are 13 magical orbs spread across the three continents.” The magician answered him simply while a number of teensies and fairies looked down at their feet. This was meant to be a secret, but knowing how dire the situation was, they knew – with great regret – that it had to come out. “We were worried about the security of our power sources, and when we heard about them we decided to go find them. But the power got to the head of our good friend Mr. Dark and he killed all the other magicians and started his evil plans. It was a total failure for all three magical races, so we agreed never to speak of it again.”
“Magicians?” Murphy said, emphasizing the‘s’, wondering why a plural was added.
“I remember you telling me about this!” Rayman exclaimed. The magical beings glared at the magician, obviously annoyed that he had already told their secret before. “And you’re the last one!”
The magician quickly turned his head towards Betilla with a look on his face that said ‘what did I tell you?’ and then replied to Rayman’s remark. “Your memory serves you well! But the problem is, with hoodlums and pirates all over the place, there’s a considerable chance they’ll find at least one of them. Unless…”
“Oh no!” the king said in unison with a few other teensies. He then continued (alone) “I know where this is going and I won’t have it! We can’t have another incident like Dark!”
“It’s the only way!” The magician argued. “We have to get them before they do!”
“What? Get them?” Rayman asked suddenly.
“Them?” it was Betilla who spoke.
The magician glared at her – although his eyes could not be seen, but it was still obvious. Then, he announced: “Look, I happen to know the locations of three orbs. One is in the Sanctuary of Death and Shadow. Another is in the Iron mountains, near the former location of the Sanctuary of Thunder and Air. And the third I know of is in The Dream Forest.”
“Well,” Rayman began to think, “From this I’d say we can assume the other three sanctuaries also contain these orbs.”
“Indeed.” The magician agreed, “But…oh dear.”
“Oh god!” Rayman exclaimed.
“What? What’s going on?!” this and similar questions were asked by many around the room.
It was Rayman who answered. “If anyone goes into the sanctuaries looking for the masks which now contain a quarter of Polokus’ power, there’s a chance that even if they don’t find them they’ll find an orb instead!”
“But wait, what exactly are these things?” It was a Nopedian who asked the question.
“Ok…” the magician began, “They are items of great power. Basically, they are orbs about the size of a large marble, perhaps a little bigger. There are 13 in total, each having a relation with an element or force etc. although the powers they give only differ slightly. Only a select few draw power from these orbs, making them incredibly strong, but if they physically held them, their power would increase tenfold. The thirteen orbs are as follows: Water, Ice, Earth, Nature, Fire, Air, Thunder, Night, Light, Spirit, Life, Death and Machine.”
A teensie from the previous argument came to a decision. “We need reinforcements to protect all these power sources!” But this time, instead of arguing, the other teensies agreed unanimously, as did all others in the room.
The leader of the Razoff-species colony stood up. “We will assist in the search and protect them! We may be few, but only few can match our fighting ability!”
Then the Nopedian too stood up. “You say one of the orbs is in the Dream forest? Well no-one will get it, because they’ll find us in their way!”
Then a maroon colored glute, taller than Globox and not nearly as fat, too stood up. “Me, and the other inhabitants of the marshes will also help! Many things may be found underneath the murky waters, and if an orb is there, we’ll find and protect it at all costs!”
“That’s great guys!” Rayman said excitedly. “But there’s one army I know that will form a nigh-impenetrable wall. A force that will almost never falter, and will be the greatest asset we could possibly have!”
“Who?” almost everyone present asked this same question, even the magician.
A smile crept around Rayman’s face as he looked towards the Wasteland messenger teensie who alerted them of the Hoodlums. “I want you to take me to your place. It’s time to go to the Desert of the Knaaren.”
End of Chapter
Competition 2: Sometimes I just can’t think of a good name for something, for example, in this chapter I couldn’t think of a name Razoff’s species. The competition is: can you?

CHAPTER 11 – Reintroduction to the Knaaren
“You’re crazy if you think you can come out of there alive,” said the wasteland teensie. He and Rayman had just travelled across miles of steaming hot sand. Luckily, they did not get burnt to a crisp, thanks to a “borrowed” hoodlum balloon-boat.
The balloon-boat was a marvel of hoodlum technology. Despite utter stupidity, the hoodlums always had a way of getting things done if they really put their minds to it. The balloon-boat consisted of a simple wooden platform tied to a hot-air balloon. It was a simple but effective way carrying hoodlums – or thieves – long distances quickly and easily.
Rayman had already jumped off the boat and landed on a bony platform in front of a gigantic animal skull. Through he would find a small canyon, and in there one of the few known entrances into the tunnels of the Knaaren.
“I already have.” Rayman replied to the teensie. Surprised, the teensie almost jumped off the balloon-boat and onto the burning sands below. Chuckling, Rayman thanked and said farewell to the lucky-to-be-alive teensie and descended into the canyon.
As if the sand wasn’t deadly enough, the canyon, as well as many other canyons and pits throughout – and under – the desert, were filled with a boiling greenish acid. Last time he was here, Rayman had almost fallen in a few times but luckily hadn’t.
Usually, giant pits of acid attract attention, even from someone who’s seen it before. But Rayman was somewhat distracted by the torn up hoodlum costume that nearly hit him. Looking in the general direction it had come from, Rayman discovered a very angry looking Knaaren. It was then Rayman realized he’d arrived in the middle of a fight.
Hoodlums were everywhere. Obviously, they’d come for Gumsi’s scepter so they could give it to Andre. And last time that had happened, things almost when very, very bad. But this time, they didn’t have a vengeful Reflux to trick into helping them, so had instead decided to throw an army through the cavern door and try to run in and steal it themselves. And judging by the large amount of dissolving costumes lying in the acid pools, they’d been at it for a while.
But only a few known things could even hurt a Knaaren, let alone kill it. And not many things could survive a return strike from those iron hard claws either.
Even though they probably didn’t need his help, Rayman jumped into action, whirling his fists about in every direction, knocking hoodlums out and/or off – off the ledge and into the acid, that is. Between him and the enraged Knaarens, the current wave of hoodlums didn’t stand a chance. It was a no-stakes battle for Rayman – enjoyment and an adrenaline rush without any real cost.
And so, it wasn’t long until the hoodlum assault was finished. But, even though he had noticeably helped, the Knaarens were suspicious and untrusting. Oh yeah, and hungry. Slowly they advanced towards, and surrounded Rayman. “Uh oh.”

Rayman sighed in impatience. It wasn’t the first time he’s been carried inside a cage and taken towards the Knaaren arena. While he was still inside his portable prison, the high pitched voice of Gumsi began to echo through the room as he announced: “The prisoner will now fight our champion in arena combat!” A particular scary looking Knaaren (but not as scary as Reflux) began to stand up slowly, until suddenly another announcement was made, this time from inside the cage:
“But I’m your champion, remember?” Although his captors were confused, many of the other Knaarens present immediately recognized Rayman’s voice. “I beat Reflux, so that makes me the champion.”
“Release him!” some of the Knaarens covered their now ringing ears as the captors obeyed the (very high pitched and loud) order. “What are you doing here?”
“I need your help to save the world,” Rayman answered simply, and then continued, “Hoodlum’s and Pirates are everywhere. You guys are the strongest bunch I know, and we could use your skills to protect things from our enemies.”
“Why should we protect you?” one of the Knaarens asked angrily. “I mean, you’re our champion, right?!” he and many others cracked up laughing before an ear piercing scream of “SILENCE!” cut them off.
“I don’t want you protect me. I want you to protect more important things – things that we really don’t want our enemies to get. Besides, you want the Hoodlum’s gone, I’d assume? That’s what I want. Do this, and I’ll get rid of them.”
After short consideration, the Knaarens began to discuss the offer, which quickly exploded into a massive argument. Not even another scream from Gumsi stopped them until Rayman offered them something else: “If you disagree, then come down here and fight me.” Silence covered the room once more – most of them had seen Rayman battle Reflux, and were rightfully scared. “So who’s with me?”
The audience then yelled in agreement, although some weren’t quite as enthusiastic as the others. Rayman smiled. “Let’s go bash some hoods in.”
The audience cheered so loudly that the ground vibrated. Or so they thought, until they all stopped and the ground kept vibrating. A Knaaren then ran into the hall. “They drilled their way in!