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Iskaria: The Big Green	By : Collip99 Category: +S through Z > Thundercats Views: 3510 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the ThunderCats or any character or events associated with it. I do not own or make any money from the ThunderCats or from this fiction

Chapter List
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The inn was bustling and crowded. The large log fire crackled in the stone inglenook. Songs were sung, jokes were laughed at and beer was swilled in copious volumes. The inn was lively and business could be described as 'upbeat'. The 'Smokepit' was a strange place, for sure. A mostly amicable blend of feline, human and 'other'. Here business we done, arrangements made and explorations undertaken.
The Smokepit sat in a moderately size community that say on the very edge of the Big Green, a forest like no other. Pristine, ancient and spread over thousands of miles. Most residents of the town only travelled a dozen or so miles into the forest my for hunting, wood and other gifts of nature. To the felines the forest was sacred space; home to spirits, gods and ancient memories. To the humans it opportunity for the brave or foolish. One man's business remained his business within the forest; and plenty of 'businessmen' simply never returned. And this, dear reader is where our story begins in earnest.
“What brings you back to town then?” Glaudus asked.
“Ah, my friend, opportunity...” he nodded “Opportunity”
“Hmmm”
“You sound doubtful? You should know there is always opportunity for those with initiative”
“What I know is that there is trouble deep within”
Elas snorted at this response.
“And that, my friend, is how they control the trade on this world. They tell you stories of bogeymen and goblins to stop decent folk from running honest, fair business.”
“Your business is neither honest not fair!” Glaudus responded cynically and honestly.
“That's harsh, my friend!”
“Bollocks” he snorted. “Pretty much illegal in most places... and then there is the risk”
“You let me worry about the risk” Elas assured.
“Oh! Don't you worry about that! Consider me totally untroubled!” Glaudus took a long sleep of dubious looking cheap ale.
“So you'll do it then?”
“No! No I won't!” he sat back in his chair.
“What? You're killing me here... OK, OK ...Standard price plus five percent on top.”
“Five percent buys you fuck all...twenty!”
“Ah ha...so you are interested, it's just a matter of economics!” Elas smiled. Glaudus also smiled.
“It may be economics to you, but your economics are very different to mine.”
“Seven and a half percent”
“Get a Ranger to do it”
“You're only the transport!”
“You're talking about four hundred miles!!”
“Yeah, four hundred miles…no more, no less…and hey, you have a copter…so what, and hour and a bit, then three days later, come and pick me up, that’s all. Easy. Right?”
“Sure, sure, sure. Oh, you happened to forget about the forest!”
“Mmm, the forest. Yes. So, which hobgoblins are you scared of this time?” he goaded.
“Listen, punk! I have taken seven humans into the forest, four of them came back. The other three happened to travel over the one hundred mile mark! Bollocks to your hobgoblins and ghost shit! This shit is real.”
“Right, and I’m paying you for this journey, OK, ten percent on top! Final offer!” he sighed.
“Agreed. Your funeral. We leave at sunrise and seeing as I like you, if you don’t show then I'll only ask for a five hundred holding fee, no questions asked.”
“Sure. Why not? I'll be there.” He finished his drink and stood. “Until sunrise…’ he held his hand out. Glaudus declined. “It’s bad luck!”
Elan rolled his eyes. “Whatever” and he left the Smokepit.
Elan spent a restless night. This wasn’t insomnia, no, this was his usual preparations before he undertook a mission. The bed had a different use. It became a soft furnished table, upon which he spread out his extensive collection of ‘gear’. He carefully inspected each piece of equipment again and again. This wasn’t OCD, this was a human who knew how much his life depended on no equipment failure. Elan pored over every knickknack twice, sometimes three times. He got out his greasy cloth and started making love to his gun, his ‘old faithful’, his ‘mistress’. Midas Elan stroked the smooth black barrel with the cloth, a gleam in his eyes.
Now, dear reader, I know what you’re thinking…that this is some sexual allegory! Well, not entirely. Elan wasn’t thinking in sexual terms, but psychologists would probably have quite the debate on what they saw.
Now fully ‘maintained’, Elan placed the gun back inside the case and closed it gently. He had used his weapon for twenty years now. It was, in truth, an amazing weapon. It was able to shoot live rounds and tranquiliser darts. This was a very useful feature, as his line of work required targets both the dead version and, at times, the live version. The aim of his next mission, in the Big Green, was live prey. It was inherently a lot riskier, but the reward for a successful return was incredible. The gun now safely stowed he went and started checking his food supplies. This was bulky and took the majority of space. It consisted mostly of nuts, dried fruit and jerky-type meat. It would’ve been far simpler to hunt for food and forage in the jungle, but, there was a problem. Considering Elan made most of his business in jungles and forests, he was no native. He did not like the forests of the planet, he did not know what was safe to eat in terms of vegetable matter, he did not know what animals were safe to eat. In many respects he was a pampered hunter. But then again, he was rich enough to not need to ‘rough it’.
It was 4am and he was finally satisfied with everything he was taking. He lay on the floor and closed his eyes for sleep. An hour later his alarm sounded, he showered, dressed and got a cab to the heliport with his gear.
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Iskaria: The Big Green