HK: Chapter 1

I woke with a hacking cough, expelling the water that filled my lungs as I sputtered and tried to figure out how I wasn't dead if I'd effectively drowned. Could I breathe water? It was possible, though I wasn't certain. At any rate, it seemed like I couldn't breathe both water and air at the same time. I had to pick one or the other, hence the coughing fit that was currently wracking my body. Of course, once that was over, it was time to figure out where I was. Looking around revealed a wooden room with textiles that were woven in various bright colors, along with cushions and wooden furniture. The Windows outside revealed it was some time in the afternoon, but even still, wicker lanterns hung from the ceiling with candles inside that could light the room at night.

"I am glad you have awoken." Spoke an aged male voice from nearby.

I turned to see an older man, wearing the robes of a Vedic Brahmin. He was likewise speaking in Vedic Sanskrit, which I seemed to be able to speak, though that was honestly one of the least surprising things that had happened to me today. The Man was carrying a calabash gourd with something inside it that smelled heavenly. Given I had at least some memories of a literal God, that wasn't just hyperbole. The Man walked over to where I was sitting up, which turned out to be on a sort of bench along one of the wooden walls, and offered me the Gourd. I took it and took another whiff of the contents. It smelled sweet, like honey and Hibiscus with a distinct tang that made me think of fermentation.

I took a sip and was instantly greeted with a mouthful of mead. That was interesting, but also welcome, and I tipped the gourd back, drinking greedily from the honey-based alcohol inside. Distantly, I was aware that this could be dangerous, and that I'd have to watch out for signs of developing alcoholism, but I didn't care. I drained the entire gourd in moments. The sweet, intoxicating booze was just too good not to drink all of, by the time I finished the gourd, tapping the side to get the remainder out, I felt like I'd just filled an ache that hadn't been filled in a while. Was I an alcoholic already? I wasn't sure. Regardless, I turned back to the Old Brahmin, only to find him on his knees.

"What's this?" I questioned in Vedic Sanskrit.

"Please, Lord, I beg of you, aid my village! You are our only hope, as we are no warriors ourselves!" Beseeched the Old Brahmin.

"Your Village?" I queried.

"Yes, Lord. Apsadanam Village, that is where you are and where I have the privilege to be the Elder. We sit on the banks of the Gadah River as it winds its way through the Mrudutalam Marsh on its way to empty into the sea." Answered the Old Brahmin.

"And just who are you, then?" I asked.

"Of course, Lord. How thoughtless of me. I am Shastri Tripathi, of the Brahmin Caste, Elder of Apsadanam Village. It was I who sacrificed the Buffalo to beg the Devas for an answer to my Village's plight, and they sent us you." Informed the Old Brahmin, Shastri Tripathi.

It seemed that while half of my memories belonged to those whose inclination was to use them to carve out a life among the criminal underworld, the half that was more benevolent was winning out here. Apparently, the way Shastri Tripathi talked seemed to also trigger something in my Trito Memories, which also helped seal the deal. With that in mind, there really wasn't a choice to say no here, especially as it seems that Shastri Tripathi's village was the one to fish me out of the Drink. I could only nod at Shastri Tripathi and make a gesture to begin talking before agreeing to his plea.

"All right, I think you'd best start at the beginning. If I am to help you, I'll need to know everything you do about the situation." I sighed.

And so he began to speak, telling me about how his village normally supplemented their meager diet of fish, mushrooms, and fruit with game hunted in the marsh, only for the last group of hunters that had been sent out to vanish without returning. Then, some of their small herd of sacred water buffalo had been found mauled to death, with large chunks bitten out of the carcasses. How the birds, small frogs, and other animals that were endemic to this area had gone almost completely quiet in the past few days, and how Shastri Tripathi believed that, taken together, this was all a sign of a mass migration of the various deadly beasts that lived deeper in the Marsh. How he figured that something was pushing them away from the areas that were drier, closer to where the marsh turned to plains along the banks of the Gadah River as it wound its way down from the Lagushreni Mountains near where the Yavana Peoples lived, and into the sea beyond the Marsh.

"Please, Lord. We have no great warriors, and with the beasts that are coming, we would barely be able to handle some of the Baddhahpralayah with their massive jaws and clutching claws, much less the swift-moving packs of sickle-toed Drutpanja or the Mighty Vajradantah, whose hides resist the best spears and arrows we can craft. Will you help us?" Pleaded Shastri Tripathi.

While I didn't know these names, I could hazard a guess as to what the Drutpanja were just from Shastri Trapathi's description. Sickle-toed, fast-moving beasts that hunted in packs sounded an awful lot like velociraptors to me. Were these all dinosaurs or megafauna of some description? If so, it was no wonder that these people weren't able to handle them. Looking around, I didn't see any evidence of ironworking, just a bit of bronze here and there. Likely, they either hadn't picked Ironworking up or doing so in the swamp was considered far too economically non-viable. Either way, Bronze Weapons of middling quality probably wouldn't be enough when wielded by people of middling ability, let alone against a mass migration, as Shastri Trapathi had implied was coming. If they were overwhelmed by that sort of thing, I was willing to bet this entire village would be lunch.

"All right, I will help you." I confirmed.

"You will? Thank you, Lord!" Exclaimed Shastri Trapathi, bowing again.

"However, it is unlikely that this will stop just after killing several beasts. To truly safeguard your village, I will have to find the source of this migration and put an end to it." I warned.

"I am certain that if anyone can do it, it will be a Deva like yourself, Lord." Bowed Shastri Trapathi again.

"Another thing. Stop bowing to me so much. There is respect and there is sycophantism. One should not come with the other." I intoned.

"Of course, Lord. As you say." Agreed Shastri Trapathi.

"Now, where are my robes? I distinctly recall having them on my person when I arrived. And my sword as well. I will need them all in order to help your village. Where are they?" I questioned.

"Your robes were soaked through by your fall into the ocean and trip down the river. They are currently drying and being attended to by Amala, my Granddaughter." Informed Shastri Trapathi.

"And my sword?" I queried.

"I took it into my bedroom to keep any of the villagers from seizing it while you were asleep, Lord." Answered Shastri Trapathi.

"Do you often have random villagers enter your dwelling unannounced?" I asked.

"Not often, no. However, some wished to have a look at the sleeping Deva who fell to Earth." Opined Shastri Trapathi.

"I suppose I can't fault their curiosity." I sighed.

"Would you like me to fetch your sword, Lord? I am afraid your robes will not be available for another hour yet, but perhaps I can scrounge up a suitable outfit?" Questioned Shastri Trapathi.

"Please. Something durable for an excursion into the marsh, if you would." I nodded.

"Of course, Lord. Our Hunters have suits of armor made of leather, wood, padded cloth, and woven cord. I am afraid that what bronze we have tends to go toward tools and weapons, and we have no nearby sources of Iron, unlike the Yavanas, Romaka, or the Asuras of the North Coast." Offered Shastri Trapathi.

"That will be fine for the time being." I agreed.

"I will fetch them now, Lord." Intoned Shastri Trapathi.

As he left to gather my blade and scrounge up some of this Swamp Hunter Armor, I paused as I thought on the implications of what he had said. Yavanas and Romaka were the ancient Indian Words for Greeks and Romans, coming from the words Ionia and Rome, which were what the first Greeks and Romans introduced themselves to the Indians as. Seemingly, the same thing had played out here, assuming there were Greeks and Romans on this Island as well. I was curious about the Asuras he mentioned on the Northern Coast, though. Asuras were a type of Malevolent Divine Being, similar to Demons, though not as hostile to humans or the Devas as something like a Rakshasa would be. To label an entire population as Asuras implied not only that they were hostile, but also that they had some kind of extranormal powers.

The memories of Gabriel Ward informed me about the way that Parahumans worked, at least in general. They triggered from extreme circumstances, which wound up granting them superpowers. It had something to do with nodes in the brain. Not everyone could trigger. Of course, there was also the twist that some especially dedicated normal humans could also compete with low-grade Parahumans, though training their minds and bodies, along with utilizing specialist equipment. The PRT and some of the more successful villain organizations were full of such normal humans among the rank and file. However, I doubted that whoever the Asuras were, that they had access to the kind of specialist equipment it would take to truly train your mind and body to that level, or to be able to compete with some of the lower-end parahuman powers. That could only mean that these Asuras had Parahumans among their ranks.

It honestly made sense. If my theory was correct, and these Asuras were some sort of raider society, then they would likely trigger a number of Parahumans, just from the constant low-level warfare. There couldn't be many of them, but I wasn't sure there needed to be if they had the right powers. Unfortunately, when thinking about what those powers could be, my Gabriel Ward Memories were somewhat less than useful. Honestly, they could theoretically be anything, even something esoteric. I just wouldn't know until I ran across an Asura Parahuman. With that in mind, I decided that the best course of action open to me at the moment was to just head out into the Marsh and do a little recon.

Of course, I couldn't exactly do that in the Loincloth I was currently wearing. I suppose I could, actually, but it wouldn't be pleasant. Instead, I decided to have a look around. Peering out the window revealed the layout of the Village of Apsadanam to me. It was a village of wooden stilt-houses, with some that were on portions of more solid ground being multi-tiered. Wooden walkways crisscrossed the village, allowing passage over the more damp and flooded areas. When Shastri Trapathi had said that they were on the banks of the Gadah River, he had undersold it, if anything. Half of the village was jutting out onto a series of small islands in the river itself. Shastri Trapathi's Home seemed to be on the top floor of one of those multi-tiered Stilt Houses.

Looking down below, various villagers in brightly dyed textiles were milling about in the village square, which was really more of a series of shops and restaurants built on stilt platforms with wooden bridges connecting them, their brightly advertised wares and well-carved buildings all part of the advertisement to potential customers, both local and merchant alike, even as wicker lanterns dyed various colors threw up interesting shadows and lit various wares in new and exciting lights. Of course, as I looked down at the Economic Heart of the Village, it became evident that these people, while eager to trade, primarily traded fruit and both linen and cotton textiles. None of which could be considered a luxury trade good. There was the makings of something greater here, but as they were penned in by the beasts of the swamp, unable to truly branch out until help came along, that likely wouldn't ever change. Not unless I helped them.

Walking out of the main room of Shastri Trapathi's home revealed a small space on the rooftop of the tier below, with a wooden ladder leading down to a lower tier. Out here, a mid-twenties Woman was using a wooden drying rack to dry my robes, while nearby, a water-filled basin that smelled of ash and some sort of alkali mineral that I couldn't place, but which likely was thrown in as a disinfectant. The Woman, meanwhile, was currently weaving some sort of saffron cloth out of dyed cotton threads on a handloom. This, then, had to be Shastri Trapathi's Granddaughter, Amala.

Her skin was a shade lighter than Shastri Trapathi's, speaking to a potential foreign mother. However, her eyes were the same chocolate brown that sparkled with intelligence, while her long, black hair was pulled into a single pleated braid, interwoven with white flowers near the back of her head. She wore an orange and pale green sari that was embroidered with little yellow lotus flowers here and there, while her ears were adorned with delicate ivory earrings that jangled slightly as she worked on her weaving.

"What are you making?" I queried.

"You are awake, then, Lord? Good. Grandfather insisted you would save our village. However, I do not know how you plan to do so in just a loincloth." Smirked Amala as she looked back over at me.

"Your grandfather is gathering up armor for me to wear, and then I'm headed into the Marsh to try and do a bit of intelligence gathering." I informed.

"And what sort of intelligence do you plan to gather with half the day already gone?" Asked Amala.

"For one thing? Whatever it was that devoured your hunters should still be close by. Besides, I am more than capable of surviving in the wilderness for a night on my own should the need arise." I shrugged.

"With muscles like those, I believe you." Smirked Amala.

"You never answered my question, though." I pointed out.

"This will be a veil for my cousin Saumya. She is to be married to the Leader of the nearest Yavana settlement. It is supposed to allow us to begin forging Iron Tools, as the Yavanas have plenty of Iron and know how to forge it, while we must make do with bronze." Explained Amala.

"Your Grandfather agreed to that?" I questioned.

"Foreign Marriages are not so uncommon these days, though they used to be in the distant past. The hazards of the Beasts that roam these lands have long since put paid to such notions of rigid castes and other such things. We all must survive as best we can, after all." Shrugged Amala.

"Your grandfather also mentioned something about Asuras on the Northern Coast." I added.

"Those only began to be a problem in the past twenty years or so. When my father was a child, the Naards were ferocious raiders, to be certain, but the Romaka kept them largely in check, and the Naards had no Asuras among their people as they do now." Admitted Amala.

"So what changed?" I queried.

"I do not know. No one truly does. However, we know it began with a war between the Romaka and the Naards. Before that point, every now and again, an Asura would develop, though it was rare. Usually, one or two every five years, and while the Naards had a few of their own, so did the Romaka. So did the Yavanas and the Boat People of Qart-Yatsad, as well, along with the City Dweller of Vipani near where the Marsh and Plains meet, who are kin to us, but much more populous. It was the War that truly caused the explosion of Asuras. That was less than a decade ago, and now it seems the Naards have redeveloped an entire society around their Asuras while the Romaka lost a good deal of their own Asuras as well as territory in the War." Informed Amala.

"I see." I frowned.

It certainly sounded like these Naards had suffered a massive defeat at the hands of the Romans early on that forced a number of their Troops to trigger and become Parahumans, which then slaughtered the Roman Forces in revenge, winning the war before restructuring their entire society around their Parahuman Members. Honestly, that sounded like a nightmare scenario. Gabriel may not have known the reason why, but Parahumans tended to be extremely conflict-prone. Not even just in terms of violence, but in general too. From the memories I had of his life, I could count on one hand the number of Parahumans he knew about that decided to do something constructive with their powers. Most apparently decided to either become Supervillains or Superheroes, with the number of the former far exceeding the number of the latter.

"Regardless, my cousin's marriage will supposedly bring Iron and Ironworking to our village." Continued Amala.

"But you're not certain of that?" I asked.

"No. Vipani's Markets are ever hungry for such trade goods, and they have no shortage of coin to buy them with. Any shipment of Iron to us will have to arrive at Vipani first, meaning more potential for the Merchants of Vipani to purchase Iron meant for us. The Ironworking Techniques may arrive, as Vipani already possesses smiths capable of working Iron, but that will do us little good without the Iron to use them with. I fear whatever Iron arrives down the river will be a trickle compared to what was promised. However, father insisted." Sighed Amala.

"Surely a trickle of Iron is better than no Iron, though? I think your father was right about that, at least. After all, you could use Iron weapons and tools to defend yourselves against the beasts of the Marsh." I pointed out.

"You haven't seen the Yavana that Saumya is to marry. He's an odious brute of a man who obtained his Lordship by beating his brothers into submission. I fear he may do something similar to Saumya should she refuse him too much. Father tells me not to worry, and Grandfather agrees, but I think they are too caught up in what this marriage might do for our Village and not what it might do for Saumya." Admitted Amala.

"Perhaps there is Iron closer to home you might try exploiting? Just in case this marriage does not work out. Divorce is preferable to death, after all, and you cannot return knowledge gained as a dowry like you can property. If I remember correctly, if Saumya is in fear of danger, a Brahmin like your grandfather could grant such a divorce." I tried.

"That is true. However, the only source of Iron close enough and large enough to be worth digging up is guarded by a Man-Eating Naga of immense size, Lord Kundalani. His lake is deeper in the marsh, and even the Vajradantah tread lightly around it. He would need to be slain in order to be able to obtain the Iron in that part of the Marsh, and Father forbade any of our hunters from trying that ever since the first group attempted it." Refuted Amala.

A Naga was a type of monstrous or divine serpent that could take on human form and tended to rule over waterways. They were roughly analogous to dragons. However, my Gabriel Ward Memories revealed that they weren't a thing here. Nothing supernatural, demonic, or divine truly was. It was more likely that this Lord Kundalani was actually some sort of Megafauna Snake. A Titanoboa or something similar. While I was still too weakened by my rebirth to feel confident dealing with a Noble Naga, an oversized and entirely mundane snake with delusions of grandeur was another matter entirely.

"I could deal with this Naga for you." I insisted.

"You would need to speak to Father for that. He is our Chief and handles the day-to-day running of the Village while Grandfather handles the rituals, prayer, and long-term planning." Shrugged Amala.

"Perhaps I will." I mused.

"Not in just a loincloth, you won't." Smirked Amala.

Fortunately, at that point, Shastri Tripathi returned, bearing not only my sword, but a set of rugged leather, wood, woven cord, and padded cloth armor. It looked primitive, but then, given how there wasn't even any bronze in the construction, I suppose it would look that way. Shastri Tripathi helped me into the armor, though when he handed me the helmet, complete with a wooden faceplate, I demurred. I wanted an unobstructed field of vision and unobstructed hearing for this. By the time I was suited up and ready to go, I looked up at the sun and judged it to be around two o'clock in the afternoon. It was time to head out into the Marsh now. Daylight was wasting, after all.

Bidding Shastri Trapathi and Amala farewell, I hefted my blade and headed out into the Marsh, hoping to figure out what was going on before things got too out of hand with the mass migration. . .

XXXX

Meanwhile, far across the sea in Brockton Bay, New Hampshire, Colin Wallis, also known as Armsmaster, was going over the recent reports from the Jamestowner Incident. It had only taken a few hours, thanks to the overwhelming Protectorate Response coordinated on a large scale by Alexandria herself, but Jamestowner hadn't managed to abscond from the Beaver Valley Nuclear Power Plant with any fissile material. Of course, he had managed to evade pursuit for long enough to virtually disappear, and that was troubling. Colin was going over the reports now, trying to figure out if the team on-site for the pursuit had missed anything, and come up with some way to rectify the situation.

By all accounts, the team led by Chevalier had only lost sight of Jamestowner for a minute or so. True, that was more than what was needed for some Parahumans to vanish, but Jamestowner wasn't known to have any such capabilities. His profile suggested a radiological specialty that was focused on blaster and master effects, shooting radiation to kill or to convert others into mutated minions that he could command. There had been no hint of a mover specialty, and Colin had already checked to see if any anomalous radiation had been recorded in the minute that they had lost sight of Jamestowner. The answer had been a resounding no, even with Dragon keeping an eye on the area via drones that were specially calibrated to detect Jamestowner's anomalous radiation.

"Theory: Jamestowner did not escape alone." Mused Colin, speaking into a recording device of his own design.

It was a good theory, and as Colin frowned over the reports, he found it to be the only truly logical explanation. There was no possible way, given Jamestowner's specialties and the forces that had been brought to bear against him, that he could have evaded capture by himself. The question then became, who aided in his escape? More importantly, why would they aid in his escape? Jamestowner was a noted megalomaniac. He did not do team-ups, even with other villains who might otherwise consider it. What would it profit anyone from helping such an antisocial Tinker with such a potentially dangerous specialty escape? Colin didn't know, and that scared him, even though he would never admit it.

"What if I'm asking the wrong question? Instead of asking what the purpose of helping Jamestowner escape would be, maybe I should be asking who benefits from having him out of the Birdcage." Frowned Colin.

There were a number of groups and villains who might benefit from forcing the PRT to waste resources trying to track down Jamestowner. However, Colin could narrow the field somewhat to just those in the Northeastern United States. He could safely rule out the Elite. Chaos didn't fit their motives, and Uppercrust wouldn't allow a loose end that was capable of what Jamestowner was capable of to factor into any of his plans for New York. Similarly, Colin could rule out Accord for many of the same reasons. Both tended toward more traditional Organized Crime methods than the sort of madcap supervillainy that had become so popular once Capes had become a thing.

At the same time, organizations like the Teeth or the Slaughterhouse Nine tended to do things in a lot less convoluted way than some circuitous scheme involving creating chaos via a third party. While Colin believed that Jack Slash might be arrogant enough to think he could break Jamestowner mentally enough that the Tinker would obey him, he also knew that the Nine would have publicly taken credit for something like this already if they'd done it. Meanwhile, the Teeth wouldn't bother with distractions. If they needed a Protectorate Hero out of their way, they would simply try to kill that hero. The Butcher might be a psychopath whose powers constantly jump hosts, but the one thing all of the numerous Butchers have had in common was that they would 'prefer to stab you in the face than stab you in the back', as Ethan had once said.

That left the Organizations that were both willing to tolerate a certain amount of chaos and willing and able to pull off some sort of circuitous plan involving third parties. In Brockton, it was possible that the Empire Eighty-Eight might try something like this, but they did not have the reach. Not without asking their backers in the Gesellschaft for help, and Colin had already checked with the Meisters in Germany, and the Gesellschaft hadn't made any moves across the Atlantic recently, as they were too engaged with dealing with a probe from the Kaliningrad Bratva into Rostock under the guise of protecting German National Interests. Meanwhile, Lung wouldn't bother with Jamestowner. Instead, he would simply act as the distraction himself. Meanwhile, while the Merchants had actually begun taking things seriously, their interest was primarily in the Black Markets they had begun setting up around the Northeast. Jamestowner causing chaos would definitely disrupt the illicit commerce.

That just left one organization, one that both had the ability and wherewithal to utilize a distraction like Jamestowner. Beatz and his Organization. It even fit somewhat, as Kunoichi was known to have a number of Stranger Powers which would allow her to sneak someone like Jamestowner past the PRT Cordon that Legend had set up. It was an unsettling prospect, especially given how problematic Beatz was as an opponent. The question was, what plan could Beatz be attempting that would require such an unstable third party to act as a distraction? Something big, obviously, the question was what. Colin had no idea, and he needed more data to truly test this theory.

"Theory: Beatz helped Jamestowner escape to use as a distraction for some as-yet unknown plan." Spoke Colin into his recording device.

Then, Colin put the recording device down and got up to do some work on his Halberd. He was hoping to incorporate some form of fusion blast technology into it. He'd recently managed to requisition one of Hero's old weapons, and though the power source was depleted and it was no longer functional, as Tinkertech was wont to be after so many years without maintenance, just studying the remains had given Colin some idea of how to make the Fusion Blaster he had originally designed more efficient. He had been close to a breakthrough before the whole Jamestowner situation had interrupted his tinkering and was eager to get back to it. After all, he would be unable to test his theory regarding Jamestowner and Beatz at the moment, so why not finish improving his primary weapon?

It was certainly a more productive use of his time than forming theories with no real data would be. . .

XXXX

AN: All right, found some time tonight to work on the next chapter. Here we have both Trito waking up, and a bit with Armsmaster going over the after-action report of the Jamestowner Incident. He believes that Beatz, one of the other SI's, and the one who replaced Coil after being inserted early, is responsible for Jamestowner's escape. Meanwhile, Trito is heading into the Swamp to go track down the Beasties that slaughtered the Village's hunters and possibly figure out what is causing the Swamp Critters to get all agitated and start moving into territory inhabited by people.

At any rate, the next chapter will include Trito's first foray into the Mrudutalam Marsh and his first actual engagement against some of the various Megafauna that reside on Insula Damnatorum. I'll also have a few more images out before then as well.

Stay tuned. . .