A Home for Heroes

[Mickey Mouse]

Starting Quest - Gold Cross Volunteers!

Speaking of displaced kings, Mickey thought idly as the trio stared at Nippur.

The city had regained none of its lost majesty in the absence of its main assailants. Though the members of LAW had largely dissolved their occupation there before Proto Man and Mickey Mouse had left, little had been done to reignite the New Babylonian fervor that burned through the streets during the time of Gilgamesh’s rule.

Now, from their exterior viewpoint, the city-state looked just as derelict and sad as it had when the mouse and his boy had slipped quietly away through the cracks in its walls, supposedly never to return.

Mickey let out a sigh laced with the slightest bit of resentment—he wouldn’t be back here if it weren’t for his goshdarn wife and her insistence on following him wherever he went. He could take care of himself, for gosh’s sakes. He supposed that would never be good enough for her, though; she seemed quite content to worry about him forever. And Mickey would admit that, despite the frustration he caused, it didn’t bother him all that much.

After all, it was good to know someone cared.

“Shall we go in?” the mouse piped up, breaking the silence that had blanketed the group.

“I don’t see why not,” Mireya shrugged, brushing past the two pint-sized heroes and beginning the trek down the sandy dunes towards Nippur’s front gate. Behind her, the mouse and the preteen machine shared a tentative glance.

They could see plenty of reasons to avoid the place.

Still, the former King bounded down after Mireya, Blues right on his heels. The desert separating them from the once-majestic walls of the New Babylon capital shrunk between them, until finally they found themselves face to face with the gates of the city and a rather engorged troop of soldiers standing guard.

As they approached, Mickey adjusted the desert garb he had summoned for himself and Proto Man when they’d first entered the Endless Dunes. It wasn’t much of a disguise, but perhaps garbing themselves in clothes that looked similar to the ones adorning the natives of Nippur and Carrefore would, at least, help them to avoid immediate suspicion. He stuffed his big ears into the large red fez on top of his head, and then stood at a distance from Mireya as she engaged the gate guards in conversation. Blues stuck close to him.

“State your business,” one of the guards droned.

The night-elf glanced back at her associates, looking for some semblance of guidance. Mickey and Proto Man had nothing to offer her; so, with an irritated grunt, she turned back and started making things up off the top of her head. “…we’re, uh, seeking refuge,” she started.

“That’s vague,” Mickey chuckled.

“She’s not the best at talking to people, as you might have gathered,” Proto Man shrugged with a slight giggle. Ahead of them, Mireya began to make up some lie about their merchant caravan being swept away by a brutal sandstorm. The half-night elf began to grow more and more visibly frustrated, though, as the guards rebuked her every effort to convince them that somewhere in the Endless Dunes, a sandstorm had taken place.

“This is a huge desert,” she protested, “there’s no way you can say that you know with certainty that no major sandstorm occurred last night.”

The guard huffed. “Listen, lady, we have the technology—”

“Ay dios mio!” Mickey screeched, breaking away from Proto Man and approaching the guards. He turned his attention up to Mireya. “Diles que somos perros perdidos en el mar.”

Mireya blinked. “No tienes sentido,” she growled.

He didn’t make sense? The mouse searched his brain—okay, so maybe he was fluent in Spanish, but still didn’t completely know the best way to say some sentences. He bit his lip, trying to think of something else he could say that would make sense, but before he could think of something, the guard spoke up once again, grabbing the night-elf by the forearm.

“Your bosses speak some strange foreign tongue?” he barked. “You’re definitely not getting in now—Nippur is under lockdown following an attack by a major faction of terrorists. We can’t take any chances on foreigners like you.”

The soldier tossed Mireya to the ground. The night-elf collapsed, barely catching herself before scrambling back up. She brushed the sand off of her hands before reaching and letting her mauve-skinned fingers wrap around a dagger in her belt.

“Mireya!” Blues shouted from where he stood behind them.

“Pendejos,” the night-elf muttered, taking a step forward just as Mickey lunged and grabbed her by the wrist. “Let me go, sir,” she spat, playing the part of the dutiful bodyguard even still.

“Now, now, there’s no need for violence.”

Heads turned to find the source of the new voice. Standing behind the gaggle of guards that denied them entry into Nippur, a tall, slender man looked down upon them with narrow eyes. Dressed in red and black robes that dropped all the way to the sandy ground, he leaned menacingly on a golden staff capped with the bust of a cobra. Mickey yanked his robes up to cover his face more, and retreated behind Mireya. He couldn’t exactly place it, but something told him that this man posed more of a threat to them than any man he had yet met here in the Omniverse.

“Let them in,” the lanky man smirked, twirling his moustache. “I don’t think they mean trouble, do you, little men?” The grin on the man’s face brought a swelling feeling of discomfort to Mickey’s stomach.

“No,” Mireya replied, stuffing her dagger back in its sheath, “No trouble at all. Thank you, sir.”

“Of course, milady,” their newest acquaintance nodded. “Nippur is your refuge for as long as you need it. I hope it will suffice.”

“I’m sure it will.”

With that, the moustache-sporting man turned around and began to walk back into the gates. Mickey leaned up on his tip-toes.

“Ask his name,” he whispered into Mireya’s ear.

“Sir,” she called after him immediately, “Might we know the name of our benefactor?”

He glanced back, a devilish smile forming on his thin lips. “Of course,” he started, before turning full-on to the mouse and his companions. “My name is Jafar. I certainly wish I had time for more introductions, but I’m here serving as an adviser to the leaders of this broken civilization and I must be going. Perhaps we’ll meet again soon.”

Mickey had a feeling he planned on it.

With that, Jafar turned and disappeared into the crowded streets of the New Babylonian capital. And after a few moments of hesitation, the contingent of gate guards parted, allowing Mickey Mouse, Mireya, and Proto Man to do the same.