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The Sovereign of Monkey Island
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Chapter 3: An Old Hope
The damage to pillage was minimal at best. A few waterlogged trees, but nothing to worry too much about. The whole island was, basically, hill shaped although the volcano in the middle technically made it a floating mountain, but people settled there anyway. The shape of the island let the water subside very quickly, which was a godsend to those who wished to run away from erupting volcanoes.
Some people had noticed the good couple of minutes when the entire island was submerged in water, but didn’t really think too much about it. They went to the commode and by the time they had gotten out, the water was gone.
The Caribbean sun made sure that everything was dry in the morning. An hour after sunrise, everything was almost back to normal, but then again the people of pillage were normally too drunk to know what normal was so there was really no trouble. Then again, some people had wondered how a fish had been able to fly so far into land and make its way into the outhouse.
Sitting on a nicely dried beach was a retired pirate with a very unfortunate name. A name that only cruel parents would have given him this name, and he had extremely cruel parents. His name was Mancomb Seepgood.
He sat quietly watching the sea, not really thinking about anything at all. There was absolutely nothing on his mind.
Half an hour into doing this, a rock hit his head. It had come from the sea and had apparently been fired from a cannon about a mile off the coast. Mancomb, without any worry of concussion or any annoyance towards the pain on his forehead, picked up the rock to find a note attached to it. He took the note off and read it. It was addressed to a Guybrush Threepwood. Mancomb read the name again. He couldn’t believe it. He read it again. Then again, for a fourth time, Mancomb Seepgood read the name “Guybrush Threepwood” and laughed. It had been the first time in five years, but he laughed anyway, and didn’t stop for a full half an hour.
Guybrush’s sword hit the ground again. It had been the fifth time that morning. They had been practicing all night and through to the morning. Rider was actually amazed at how alert Guybrush was, he hadn’t slept a wink in more than twenty four hours and yet he was still fighting hard. But Guybrush still hadn’t measured up to Rider’s standards. Of course Rider wasn’t expecting Guybrush to be as good as him, but he did have certain standards he had fashioned for people who fought along side him.
Then again, Rider had never had any fighting partners, or any other partners for that matter, but he still had standards and they were pretty tight.
“Again!” bellowed Rider, it wasn’t a question, or even an order, it was more of a premonition, as if he knew it was going to happen so he just stated it.
“We’ve been fighting all night. Isn’t it time for a break yet?” as said before, Guybrush had amazing stamina, but got very annoyed when his tasks were mindless and remedial… oh how he’d hated Monkey Kombat.
“When you beat me, you can have a break.” Of course, this was like giving an angel its wings when it learns to fly. Guybrush sighed, there was no arguing with Rider. Guybrush had only known Rider for a few hours, but already he knew that there was no arguing, bargaining, or wooing (that was extremely embarrassing) with Rider.
Guybrush picked up his sword, but as soon as he turned around, Rider had knocked it out of his hand.
“You were not ready, you should always be ready,” Guybrush was getting annoyed.
“Why are we doing this again, I just want to get back to my island and mansion.” He was getting used to saying that to people, he wanted to know how they’d react to finding out that he lives in a mansion, most didn’t seem to care be he still beamed about it, because he lived in a mansion.
“There is no doubt,” Rider went on without regard to the mansion, “that Largo and Ozzie want you dead, you have to be ready for when they come for you. Plus the prophecies foretell a great battle for you.”
“I’m really starting to hate prophecies, all kinds, who comes up with these anyway?”
“Mostly Voodoo Priestesses, the one I got yours from has a House of Mojo in town, she comes all the way from Mle Island.”
“Hmm, I think I’d like to see her. She sounds interesting.” Guybrush tried the most sinister smile he could come up with. Rider looked at him in curiosity.
“Do you need to use the commode?”
“Uhh, no never mind.”
But before they could even think about going to see the Voodoo Lady, (or at least before Rider could object to them seeing her before Guybrush beat him in swordplay) a man came rushing through the door. He was an elderly man with a walking stick and dark tan. He came with a smile on his face and a note in his hand. He also came with a free walking stick, but no one bought him at the charity bachelor auction.
“What is it Mancomb?” inquired Rider.
“It be a note for mister Guybrush, sir, he be havin’ some problems at the home he be.” Rider took the note and read it.
“Hey, I think the message is addressed to me!” said Guybrush.
Annoyingly, Rider just responded with a stare that was to say something along the lines of “Why are you talking?” and carried on reading.
“Mancomb, how did you know Guybrush was here?”
“I asked down the local and they be sayin’ they saw you with him.”
“Umm, which local would that be Mancomb?”
“The INSANE Bar.”
“Hmm, seems you have problems with the wife,” said Rider.
“That’s private and its an insecurity thing, she said I could get some kind of herbal remedy for that, its common in all guys, is what she said!”
“I mean she’s been kidnapped.”
“And you will forget everything I just said ther-what?!”
“LeChuck kidnapped her,” said Rider without any expression
of concern crossing his face.
“Won’t that guy stay dead for more than two seconds!”
“H.T. Marley, hmm.”
“Hey, you know what, new thought, let me read the note.”
Rider looked at Guybrush up and down as if he were a piece of prey to a hawk. Then he sighed and handed him the note. Or at least tried to except Guybrush attempted to snatch it from him in disgust and failed when he simply knocked it out of Rider’s hand and onto the floor. Guybrush coughed and then picked it up and read:
“To Whom It May Concern:
First of all, to whom-so-ever finds this, if yer not Guybrush Threepwood, stop reading now and go find him, if he ain’t on this island, burn the letter and disregard it.
Now, if you are Guybrush Threepwood, it’s me, Grandpa Marley, you left the candle burning in the Mansion and burned the house down. In the midst of the fire, LeChuck appeared, threw me out the window and kidnapped my Elaine! I’m injured; you’re the only one who can save her. I don’t know where LeChuck’s gone, but he’s probably taken her to his stronghold back on Monkey Island. You must do something. And I must warn you LeChuck seems to be more powerful than ever before, or else he wouldn’t have beaten me and Elaine. Be careful, but please, bring back my granddaughter, I will do whatever I can to help you too. Help us Guybrush Threepwood, you’re our only hope.
“Oh my god, we have to help her!”
“Not without the right training. You’re staying here until
you master the sword, then you can face LeChuck.” Rider bent down and picked up his sword. He turned around and Guybrush knocked the sword out of Rider’s hand with his own. He looked at Rider full on; it was almost a staring contest if Rider wasn’t able to outstare an eagle.
Rider leapt and grabbed his sword and then turned to face a whole load of air where there used to be a Guybrush. He raised his sword to block a blow from Guybrush’s sword and then started to fight full on.
Rider found that even at his full ability, it was difficult to catch Guybrush out at times, but Guybrush still came back as hard as ever. Guybrush had been fuelled with anger and agitation of not being able to stop. His wife had been kidnapped, his Archenemy had come back from the dead, again, and he hadn’t slept in more then twenty four hours. This time, someone was going to pay.
He fought hard, with all the skill he had accumulated among the years, he had fought the Sword Master of Mle Island and won, he had fought Captain Rottingham, and won, and now, he was fighting Rider, and he was going to be damned if he wasn’t going to win.
Finally, the sword flew out of his hand. And then they both stopped. Whose hand had it flown from? They each looked at one of their hands, nothing in them; they looked at their remaining hands. One of them was still clutching a sword as if his life depended on it. They still couldn’t believe it.
Guybrush held his sword up high above his head in triumph. His trousers fell down. He got the strange feeling of deja vu.
Rider looked at him, mostly in surprise that he had been beaten.
But in his pride, he decided not to mention it. “Hmm, shall we go to the Voodoo Lady now?” He grabbed Guybrush by the arm and dragged him out of the door. As the door closed, it revealed a sinister figure behind it. It was elderly and well tanned.
Mancomb looked around. “I’ll, er, I-I-I’ll just let myself out, will I?”
The building was one of the very few buildings on the island that wasn’t a bar, although vast quantities of grog could be found on the premises because it was always handy to have some around for guests, or no guests, whichever came first. It wasn’t a large building, but big enough for what it was used for. With tiki torches on the outside, giving the place a very authentic mojo/voodoo feel, an effect of great power and foresight was given by just the outside of the building. From that first impression, one could walk through the door to find a complete waste of space and still feel he was getting a good service from the lady there. This wasn’t the case at all, the inside was just as richly decorated as the outside, as you walked in, piles of bones and skulls in the corner gave the place a feel of real occult power whilst also saying that chicken bones could be used in a decorative fashion. Shelve after shelve of jars and bottles filled with various coloured liquids almost cried out “drink me”, whilst some of the quieter ones were given labels saying “drink me” on them.
At the end of the room, was almost a throne, again with more tiki torches around it, horns and bones protruding from all sides giving Guybrush the very distinct memory of what LeChuck was planning to do to him at some point in his adventures. The chair was at this moment empty but looked as if someone should be sitting in it, as if something was missing and that something was a lady of the Voodoo arts.
Guybrush didn’t seem to notice any of this as he strode up to the door of the building, kicked it, and then failing it actually opening under the sheer force of his foot, turned the handle, and then in a very dramatic way threw the door open, stepped in, held his head up high and shouted:
“Ah ha!” to absolutely no one.
“Um, Guybrush?” said Rider, poking his head through, “What
are you doing?”
“I-er, thought I heard something.”
Rider knew how to act with respect to the island’s witches and occult workers such as the lady of this house. He knocked on the already open door and called for her with the only name she went by :“Voodoo lady?”
Incense burned around the place producing a blue coloured smoke. The smoke seemed to move towards the throne in a gentle way, as if naturally, but in a world like the one Guybrush has been living in the past few years, he was willing to go on a little faith and believe that this wasn’t the natural course for the smoke.
The mist created by the incense covered the throne and made it almost invisible, were it not for the outline of the chair only just visible beyond it. Smoke didn’t want to fill the room; it seemed to be attracted to that end of the room only.
Funnily enough, this all happened in about five seconds, which was quite fast for smoke to travel and yet seemed like it was travelling at about the right speed.
After the five seconds, there was a flash of light protruding from somewhere inside the cloud of smoke and outwards creating a brilliant light around the room and momentarily blinding Guybrush and Rider. When they opened their eyes again and got used to using their eyes again, both of them looked at the throne. The smoke was completely gone without a trace and now sitting in the chair, was a woman.
The best description for the woman would be round, she was very round. She wore a turban on her head and beaded necklaces of all sorts. She also had long dangly earrings, bracelets and rings, which basically added a good pound onto her.
“Welcome, Guybrush Threepwood, it hasn’t been long since we last saw each other has it?”
“You know her?” asked Rider, who for the first time seemed to be surprised.
“Yes, she always seemed to turn up when I’m in trouble.”
“If I recall,” said the Voodoo Lady, “I was always there to help you with your problems.”
“Yeah, I guess so. So tell me, why have you now moved here?”
“I was brought here.”
“The wave got you too?” Rider put his head into his hands in shame
“No Guybrush, my foresight told me that I needed to be here to help you once again. Maybe for the last time. Rider, I think you’ve heard all of this, maybe it would be better if you went outside and watered my plants for me. There’s a good lad.” Rider left obediently, he normally wasn’t one to take orders from anyone, and while this, strictly speaking, hadn’t been an order, the Voodoo lady wasn’t someone you’d want to disagree with.
“Lemme guess, some time in the near future, I’m going to die,” said Guybrush after Rider had left.
“No, Guybrush, some time in the near future, you will look death in the face and stand up to you’re enemies-“
“- and then the prophecies of the Caribbean will be
“What prophecies? I keep hearing about these and yet never seem to now what they are.”
“It was a long time ago, on an island far, far away.”
“Could have just said…”
“It’s more dramatic this way. Anyway, a long time ago, on
Monkey Island, some people made a promise to the monkey people that they would help them if ever in their time of need. Now Guybrush, that time has come and you are the one who has to help them.”
“Because Guybrush, the people said that only the one
destined to do so will be the man who will face and overcome three tasks, each one more horrible than the last.”
“You mean the pirate trials?”
“No Guybrush, much harder trials than that.”
“They were pretty hard.”
“Please, the treasure had a huge X over it, the idol was
guarded by poodles and Carla was drunk when you fought her.”
“Yeah, but it was still hard.”
“Anyway, no, these trials are much different and it seems
you have completed all of them, mostly by accident.”
“What, what do you mean I did it by accident.”
“Meaning, you’ve been doing it without you knowing it.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Let me explain, the prophecies are very clear.” She suddenly stared off into space, not making contact with Guybrush's eyes, but more, beyond him. “It’s written in an ancient tongue, but roughly translated, by me, I have found out the requirements.”
“The prophecies state that the man to fill them will: Devastate A Militia With Flames From The Water.”
“I don’t remember doing that.”
“Meaning, fight evil people with some kind of liquid.”
“Again, I don’t remember doing that.”
“You fought the skeletal horde with the Root Juice.”
“Oh yeah!” said Guybrush reminiscing himself at the pinnacle of his career when he first defeated LeChuck, and everyone knew the first time was always the most important time.
“He Must Seek Prosperity In Stolen Realms Under The Sea,” she said with that far away look on her face, Guybrush was feeling uneasy, like most, he liked to talk to people whilst keeping eye contact.
“Big Whoop, it was connected via tunnels under the sea between Monkey and Dinky Island. Remember?”
“Ah don’t remember that,” he said with a smile on his face as if to show absolutely no expression whatsoever
“Yeah, no trust me. And finally, He Shall Wield The Definitive Attack Of Morale And Defeat His Toe With The Stolen Arts Of Old.” Her eyes were really starting to annoy Guybrush.
“I’ll defeat my toe?!”
“Umm, sorry, foe, he’ll defeat his foe,” She said,
straining her eyes slightly, but still looking away from Guybrush.
Guybrush tried to follow her eyes and slowly looked behind him and up near the top of the wall behind him. “You’re reading off of the wall?!”
“Hey, you cant expect me to remember them all!”
“There’s only three of them!”
“I tend to have better things to remember, like at what temperature to cook the gumbo, and when to know when the figgin’s about to explode on the grill.”
“Whatever, I still can’t figure out the last one, what’s the definitive attack of morale?”
“Ah, gotcha. So, what does all this mean, do I get some
kind of special powers?” He asked hopefully, like a child waiting for his Blood Blizzard 2000 for Nintendo because he cleaned his room.
“Hmm, unfortunately, the prophecies have been very tight-fisted this time around, they only give one power, the ability to hold your breath underwater for ten whole minutes.”
“I’ve been able to do that since I was five!”
“Oh, never mind then.”
“So, what do I have to do?”
“Save the world.”
“That’s a little cliché isn’t it?”
“You’d be surprised.”
“What must I do?” The voodoo lady shut her eyes and tried
“An army, you must raise, an army.”
“You’re reading this off the back of the wall again aren’t
“No, I am envisioning your life, I am reading the books of
“I am seeing the future.”
“Oh right, and uh what do you see?” She opened her eyes sharply and stared straight ahead, with an almost surprised look on her face, and then in a shrill, quiet, frightened look said,
“I see dead people.” There was a slight pause.
“Uh-huh, yeah, me too, and what else.”
“Monkeys lots of monkeys.”
“I think I saw enough in the last game.”
“Um, sorry, I-I-I meant, adventure.”
“This time there are going to be a lot more monkeys.”
“I swear I’m developing a phobia.”
“That will be the least of your worries. I’m seeing more.”
“I don’t think I want to know about my future anymore.”
“It’s not about your future, it’s-it’s about your past. I
am remembering things I have not seen.”
“Now there’s a talent.”
“There was-no, there is a door, a door to the most foulest
of things, and it must be conquered, it must have a master, a king.”
“He who is told in the prophecies.”
“And why must this doorway have a king?”
“Soon, the door will be opened, the ghosts of the past
will arise and the entire world will be consumed.”
“And thus we get back to the saving of the world. Okay, so
how do I find it and become its king?”
“It will be found on the island of the monkey.”
“Not the Monkey Island monkey head again?”
“But, that was a robot! It’s gone now!”
“The Monkey robot was no more than a simple scaring device
created by the cannibals before they left the island. It was created to scare away unwanted visitors, but when LeChuck arrived, he hid it underneath the giant monkey head.”
“You mean LeChuck carved the giant monkey head?”
“No, he just hid the robot under it. The head has been there for centuries.”
“Has, you mean it’s still there?”
“Seeing no form of transportation, the power of the Ultimate Insult was passed on from the giant monkey head to the nearest silver monkey head, the robot. The Giant monkey head was not destroyed though, just buried, deep underground, and now must be found.”
“What do I do when I get there?”
“If you get there.”
“How hard could it be?”
“Harder than you know. If you do get there, you must find
the ancient voodoo Icon of Oloddumare, the keeper of the gate, it is there to make sure the door does not open.”
“You mean like a doorstop?”
“I think its a bit more fabulous than a doorstop. But beware, the icon can only be touched by those whom have proven themselves worthy.”
“You mean me?”
“But beware, this will give you the power to open the door
to these spirits and control them to your will, or you can destroy the door forever and save the world. You must destroy the door, otherwise others may come in the future and use it for themselves.”
“I thought I was the only one who could do this, because of the prophecies…”
“We can never be too sure, just close it, okay?”
“Okay, okay, I will. So what is this, the whole boat, crew and map business?”
“I fear this will all be arranged for you this time, fate will bring these all together and you shall be on your
“I see that you already have another quest to embark upon
before you do this.” And suddenly, it hit him like the boom of a ship to the back of the head, and Elaine came rushing back into his head.
“Elaine! I have to save her! You have to tell me where LeChuck’s taken her!”
“She has been taken to the place of a thousand-“
unfortunately, Guybrush had already drawn a knife from his belt and pointed it towards the Voodoo Lady.
“No riddles, just tell me flat out.” The Voodoo Lady was a little flustered, she was never easily threatened, but even she saw the essentialness of the situation and knew how impatient Guybrush would be right now.
“She has been taken to an island by the name of Cavalier, there is a hideout where LeChuck is plotting. This time he has some kind of voodoo wall around his hideout so I cannot see inside, but I’m pretty sure that Elaine’s there. Take Rider, he’ll know the way.” Guybrush put the knife back.
“Thank you.” He said quietly and sincerely. He knew this wasn’t going to be easy, but this was all the help he would be able to get from the Voodoo Lady. And then, without another word, or a second glance, he turned around and left the House of Mojo.
Then Rider walked in from the back.
“Did the plants, should I- where’s Guybrush?”
“Out front,” she said without looking up. It seemed to her that her and Guybrush had left things on unfriendly terms and it unsettled her. She just sat, watching the door, expecting nothing.
“Thank you,” he said. He tried to catch her eye, but no matter where he went, she was always out of eye shot. Sometimes you don’t have to try to not to look at something, you just don’t. Rider walked past her chair and walked outside. He stepped out and found Guybrush waiting for him.
Only he wasn’t, he was just standing outside, he had stopped there when the door had shut behind him after he left the house, and then just stared at the road ahead of him. It went through a thicket of trees and some rocky areas, around the volcano and down to the beach. He couldn’t see past the thicket though. Even still, he knew what was coming. He too had felt unsettled about his parting with the Voodoo Lady. He’d known her all these names, and without even knowing her name, she was one person he knew he could look back to. But now, somehow, he felt that she was gone, he couldn’t go back to her again. And she was just through that door behind him. Behind him. But it was the unknown path before him, that’s the way he had to go, he knew that, it’s what the Voodoo Lady would have said.
Before this moment, he had never thought this clearly in his life. But now, his wife was in danger, his arch nemesis wanted him dead, he had many enemies and no way of knowing what to do. This had happened before, but he’d never been this angry about it. Before, it had mainly just been annoyance and shame. But this time… how dare he. This time, it was almost definitely, and without a doubt personal.