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Fallout, The Wurymmar Story: Part Four

by scarrift


Fallout: Scar's True Colours

"Well, what do you have to report?" the dark faerie's face leered from the swirling surface of the crystal ball. "And it had better be good mister."

     "Aye it is milady," the old man said slowly into the sphere. "Within this month, my grandson and I have adopted and corrupted two Neopets before sending them back to that Dr. Death. I have heard they have already been adopted."

     "That will be enough, for now. Remember old man where your loyalties lie or I'd rather not think about it. Now get out of my face!" the image clouded over instantly to be replaced again with the dull black surface of the sphere. The figure picked up the crystal ball and replaced it carefully on the shelf.

     "Oh, I will, Jhudora, I will remember that. Now where is that grandson of mine?"


     "That would be enough for today, Wurymmar," Scar bade the blue Lupe. Obligingly, he took off his Iron Lupe Helm and walked up to Scar's side.

     "And don't come back, ya hear!" Punchbag Bob screeched in the background. "Take a hit at me, that's all they do! Cruel Neopians!"

     "Is he always that cranky?" Wurymmar asked inquisitively. Scar just shrugged.

     "I suppose getting slashed, punched, burned, frozen, polymorphed and plastered with snowballs would give anyone a temper," Scar reasoned. "Now let's go get something to eat." With that, Wurymmar and Scarven left the Battledome and exited into the fresh air outside. Scar was just about to point out the Food Shop when he felt something icy cold shaking inside one of his pockets. His face turned pale.

     "Scar, what's wrong?" Wurymmar asked when he saw the expression on Scar's face. Scar's expression never changed as he turned to regard Wurymmar.

     "It's … nothing. You go on ahead. I've got something to do first. Go," Scar ordered with no conviction, pointing to the Food Shop in the distance. Wurymmar shrugged, not at all surprised at being told to go away, and started towards the circular building that was the Food Shop. Scar watched Wurymmar disappear into the crowd before quickly darting into a nearby alley. He stuffed his hand into one of his pant's pockets and withdrew a small orb swirling with a milky substance. "Scarven Dessan of House Dessan", Scar said clearly. The substance swirled violently and a face slowly came into focus within the sphere.

     "Tardiness is just one of your better qualities, isn't it Scarven?" a sarcastic voice emanated instantly from within the sphere. The glowing orb floated a foot into the air, coming to rest an arm's length from Scar's face.

     "I would have contacted you sooner but I was … preoccupied," Scar replied deferentially. "And I would prefer that you call me Scar, grandpa."

     "I will stand no more of your excuses," the old man snapped. "And I will call you whatever I want, Scarven.

     "And must I remind you what I said a week or so ago?" the man said quickly before Scar could interrupt. Scar's face screwed up in an effort to stay calm.

     "Yes, I do remember the orders you gave me grandpa," Scar said.

     "And did you forget your regular duties?"

     "I told you I was pre -"

     "You are to go to my place," the old man said calmly before Scar could continue. "And I would expect you to not take your sweet time doing so. Goodbye, Scarven." With that, the orb clouded over and fell to the street with a clink.

     Scar threw a look of contempt at the milky orb rolling to a halt beside a pile of trash, his hands clenched into fists from anger. Sometimes I wish I could … Scar didn't complete his thoughts. With a steady hand, he picked up the orb and stuffed it back into its pocket before beginning his slow walk through the crowds towards the Food Shop.


     "Thanks, Scar, for the nice food. It sure beats eating omelettes all the time."

     "Don't get used to it, I can't spare that much Neopoints only on food," Scar reprimanded. Wurymmar shrugged and rolled his eyes.

     "Oh well, I'll always remember the time I ate a simply delicious, expensive cheese burger."

     "Sarcasm doesn't look good on you, Wurymmar."

     "Sure, sure. Hey, where are you going, Scar?" Wurymmar stared as Scar started walking the opposite direction of Winding Wood Drive. Scar just waved his right hand absentmindedly.

     "You go on back to the Neohome, I have something to do first. See ya later," Scar called to Wurymmar. The blue Lupe stared as Scar's figure retreated farther and farther away, eventually getting swallowed by the falling darkness. Wurymmar then looked up at the evening sky and hurried back to the Neohome before it got too dark to see.

     Meanwhile, Scar walked resolutely down the darkening street, proceeding down a path he knew all too well. Soon he came to the end of a small side street and Scar looked up once again at his ancestral home. Framed eerily against the blood red sunset, towering three floors up and set in sharp angles, a large manor loomed eerily before Scar, a testament to the Dessan family's legacy. A legacy that Scar would give anything not to inherit.

     A grim look was set on Scar's face, like one who was about to descend into a grave, as he rapped sharply three times on the heavy oaken door. A minute passed in silence before the door creaked open large enough to allow Scar to enter. As he stepped over the threshold he heard the door snap shut behind him, accompanied by the clicks of some unseen mechanism. Recalling the way by heart, Scar proceeded up the grand stairs to the upper mezzanine of the cavernous hall, all covered in tasteless but expensive carpeting, and headed towards an ornate door at the opposite end of the landing. Scar hesitated for a moment before knocking on the door.

     What if I just leave and never come back … No, I couldn't do that. Scar breathed a sigh. I guess I have to enter then.

     He tapped on the door, just like he did at the entrance, and a muffled voice came from behind it.

     "Come in, and don't take all day about it." Scar pushed open the door and entered the dimly lit room. The flickering flames from a fireplace at the end of the room were the only source of illumination and shadows from the fire danced all around the large room. A figure sitting in a high backed armchair facing away from the flames glared through the darkness straight at Scar, who was now walking across the room.

     "I see you have finally decided to grace me with your presence, Scarven," the old man, voice dripping with sarcasm, said. Scar nodded respectfully.

     "Greetings, grandpa," Scar began. "And I apologize if I am a bit late but I was -"

     "Preoccupied," Scar's grandfather finished impatiently. He pointed an intricately carved walking stick at Scar. "Now you will explain why you have taken so long to find me a Neopet. Is it that hard just finding one specimen for me, or do you perhaps require some glasses?"

     "No, grandpa, I do not require glasses, nor am I having a hard time finding a Neopet for you," Scar said in a quivering voice, barely concealing his anger, his frustration of being treated like an errant child. The old man's eyes narrowed.

     "Then why do I not see you with a Neopet, Scarven?"

     Scar's back straightened. Finally a question he could answer.

     "My journey to Tyrannia has revealed that there are no suitable candidates for you," Scar said stiffly. "Most wild or disowned Neopets there possess minimal intelligence and at times low physical strength. I assumed that you would not want to be troubled with pathetic subjects. Thus I have returned empty handed." The creases on Scar's grandfather's eyes deepened, his hawkish eyes narrowing even further.

     "You are lying, Scarven. I can see that you are not telling me everything," he said in a low voice. "Half a month ago you told me there were no longer any Neopets in the Pound. Then there was none in Meridell. Now you tell me that there are no worthy subjects in Tyrannia. I don't think that you've been very truthful with me. Don't tell me you actually feel sorry for the wretched things?" Scar diverted his eyes for a second before returning his gaze at his grandfather. The old man smiled wickedly. "I knew it, you're going soft on me. Didn't I tell, no, train you not to get attached to those Neopets? They'll only bring you trouble."

     "Surely," Scar replied incredulously. "There must be something the Neopets are worthy for. Surely even the lowliest Neopets in the Pound are capable of something good." The old man's smile lingered for a moment before being replaced with a frown.

     "There is and it's in the service of Jhudora," Scar's grandfather said. "Do you not see the power her subjects possess? Why, I am but showing those pitiful, neglected Neopets another path, a purpose greater than just serving as lap dogs. If you wish to deny them the power that they deserve then it is you that is to blame, not me." The old man leaned back with a smug smile on his wrinkled face. "Power which even you and I can share in allegiance with a powerful being such as Jhudora." Scar laughed sardonically.

     "Power? Wasn't it power that brought you here, power that chained you here to this place? Again you wish to tempt fate and ally yourself with one of the foulest creatures in the world." Scar snarled angrily. "I wish to have none of it! I do not want to be shackled by the same greed that has gripped you, grandpa." Scar was taken aback by his grandfather's sudden laughter.

     "My, my, it seems you have forgotten who has raised you these past few years," the old man said in a mocking tone. "In fact, without me, your only remaining blood relative, you wouldn't be standing before me right now. All I demand is for you to carry out my wishes and yet you disobey and question me, just like your father did." Scar's grandfather leaned back in his armchair, not showing the slightest hint of any anger. Scar bowed his head, his hands clenched into fists.

     "I had no intention of disobeying you, grandpa," said Scar in a cold tone. "I will carry out what you ask of me." His grandfather suddenly smiled.

     "Then you will bring me that Lupe of yours."

     "What did you say?" Scar started, his heart skipping a beat. His grandfather pointed his cane at him.

     "Do not think I'm blind, Scarven," he said calmly, his eyes closed serenely. "I may not be able to leave this place but that doesn't mean I'm totally helpless." His hawk-like eyes suddenly snapped open. "I want that Lupe. He would make a perfect subject for Jhudora. You will bring him to me."

     "And what if I don't want to?" Scar scowled, his hands moving for his sword. His grandfather laughed and snapped his fingers. A pair of red lights flashed in a dark corner and a Sloth Clone emerged from the shadows to move between Scar and his grandfather.

     "What is this?" Scar spat as he unsheathed his blade. The robot immediately raised its hands, its deadly fingers with concealed weapons pointing directly at Scar.

     "That is a gift from Jhudora, amazing isn't it? A Sloth Clone, stolen and reassembled to my specifications," Scar's grandfather stated before fixing Scar with a measuring gaze. "I don't wish for the Lupe to be hurt but I can and will recover him, you can be sure of that."

     "This is wrong, grandpa. You can't keep doing this to him, to anyone," Scar snarled, moving closer to the robot, whose mechanical body tensed up immediately. His grandfather smirked.

     "Remember your pledge, Scarven Dessan." That stopped Scar dead in his tracks. For a moment his eyes were livid with frustration, then they dulled, replaced instead with resignation. Slowly Scar replaced his sword into its scabbard and moved towards the exit.

     "I shall do as you command," said Scar over his shoulders, one hand on the door handle. "I will bring him tomorrow."

     "I knew you'd see things my way. Maybe I won't replace you with this Sloth Clone. Goodnight Scarven," Scar's grandfather called, a wry smile on his aged face as he watched the heavy door slam shut, knowing that his grandson would not disappoint him.


     The next day dawned cold and windy, an overcast sky covering Neopia Central in a gloomy shadow. Dry leaves fluttered in the strong breeze and swirled around Wurymmar's feet as Scar and him walked along the peaceful streets of Winding Wood Drive. The Lupe quickly caught up with Scar, who was resolutely trying not to meet his gaze.

     "Err, is there something wrong, Scar?" asked Wurymmar concernedly. Scar shook his head, cringing slightly at the sound of the Lupe's voice.

     "Nothing … it's nothing Wurymmar. Let's just keep going …" Scar's voice trailed off and Wurymmar decided to keep quiet for a while.

     Maybe he has a lot on his mind, Wurymmar reasoned to himself.

     Scar led the way to his grandfathers Neohome in trepidation. What am I doing? I don't want to hurt Wurymmar. I can't consign him to grandpa's tests. But what choice do I have? I have to honour the pledge I made, no matter what the outcome. By Jhudora, why must it always end like this!

     Wurymmar saw his owner's hands clench into fists and saw the pained look on his face. Wurymmar nudged Scar with one paw.

     "Hey, you really sure that you're all right? You look tense."

     "No, I'm just fine. Don't worry about me, I think we're nearly there."

     Wurymmar turned his head left and right as he walked, taking in the large, creepy trees on either side of the ill-used path and the silence of his surroundings. Then, through the gloom cast by the trees, a huge manor came into view. The blue Lupe couldn't help but whistle in amazement.

     "Wow, does anyone live here?" Wurymmar inquired for even with the scant rays of sunlight the Neohome still looked dark and forbidding, as if swallowing all light into itself.

     "You'll find out soon enough," Scar said emotionlessly, pushing open the front doors without even knocking. "Unfortunately," he added under his breath. Wurymmar hesitated at the door as Scar crossed the entrance hall.

     "Don't you think the owner will mind us just walking in?" asked Wurymmar haltingly, looking up at the dark, cobwebbed ceiling. Scar just shook his head and motioned for the Lupe to follow with his left hand. Wurymmar watched as Scar started fading away into the shadows of the room and cautiously started following. I don't like this. Scar could be attacked in the dark, Wurymmar thought. I'd better follow him before he gets into trouble. And with that Wurymmar bounded off into the darkness after Scar, blue tail swishing behind him.

     Scar heard Wurymmar's running paws behind him and quickened his pace up the grand staircase. Let this end now, Scar thought pleadingly. Get him now before he catches up.

     "Hey Scar, where do you think you're going?" Too late. Wurymmar caught up to Scar at the head of the stairs and restrained him by grabbing the edge of his jacket. "This is stupid, you could get hurt Scar. Let's get out of here."

     Wurymmar's concern made Scar's heart sink with guilt. That's it, Scar decided. I've had enough of this. I'm getting Wurymmar out of here.

     Scar turned to say something to the Lupe but a glass cage suddenly appeared above Wurymmar and fell with a dull clunk, trapping him. The Lupe reacted with surprise at first but his training soon took over and he immediately started ramming into one side of the glass cage.

     It didn't budge an inch. Wurymmar shouted, "Hey, Scar get me out!" all the while banging his paws on the unyielding glassy surface. Scar barely heard the muffled shouts but guessed enough from Wurymmar's frantic slams on the transparishield and was about to lift the enclosure when he heard a cackle from the shadows to his left. Half a dozen candles flashed to life and Scar shot one hateful glance at his grandfather and the Sloth Clone standing obediently at his side. Even Wurymmar stopped pounding the glass walls and stared at the figures.

     "Congratulations, Scarven, and thank you for delivering me yet another exquisite subject," Scar's grandfather said with a clap of his gnarled hands. "This Lupe will do just fine."

     Scar glared spitefully at his grandfather but Wurymmar, on the other hand, stared at Scar in shock.

     I don't believe this! Wurymmar thought incredulously. Scar can't be helping this old man, he just can't. Scar's grandfather and the Sloth Clone sauntered over to the glass cage, ignoring Scar, who just stood rooted in his spot.

     "Yes, Lupe, I'm sure you didn't believe my grandson could lead you into a trap, did you?" said the old man coldly. "Ah, but of course Neopets can be so trusting. You're no different from the other Neopets Scarven has led to me, Lupe.

     "And soon," Scar's grandfather continued dramatically. "You will be no different from the other Neopets I have turned over to Jhudora's side. Think of it Lupe, power over your enemies and riches beyond measure, all at the cost of losing what makes you weak: compassion, kindness, sympathy. And you have Scarven to thank for it." The old man laughed in a cracked voice. Wurymmar turned and started shouting at Scar.

     "Get me out of here Scar!" Wurymmar's voice, muffled by the glass, echoed through the glass walls. "Please get me out of here! Help me Scar!" But all Scar did was turn away from him. It was then that Wurymmar realized that Scar would not help him. The realization of his mistake sunk in deep. I was stupid to trust a human, Wurymmar thought bitterly. How they have warned me about this. What a fool I was for not believing the truth about humans.

     "Take him away," Scar's grandfather said with a satisfied voice and the Sloth Clone moved to lift the glass cage. With its great strength, it heaved the case onto its shoulders and disappeared into the darkness beyond the limits of the candlelight.


     "You're a traitor, Scar!" Wurymmar spat from behind the thick glass of his new cell.

     "I'm sorry, Wurymmar, it's true that I've turned dozens of innocent Neopets evil but it's not what you think," Scar said quietly a few feet away from the glass wall. Wurymmar huffed in disbelief. "I really am your friend."

     "Right, a true friend indeed," Wurymmar snarled with sarcasm. "A friend who would rather turn his own friend in rather than stand up for him, a friend who would rather mislead his friend rather than tell the truth, a friend -"

     "Why don't you shut up and listen to me for once?" Scar interjected angrily.

     "Listen to you? NO, I've had enough of your lies, Scar."

     "Get it in your thick skull, Wurymmar, I'm bound to serve him as long as he needs my services. I made a pledge to my grandfather!"

     "And a pledge is more important than me?!"

     "To me it is! I gave my word to him and I find that a promise is much more important than anything! What about you Wurymmar? You gave me your word to follow me on my journey and if words are not important to you then I'll be happy to be done with you, friend!"

     Scar turned on his heels and stormed up the stairs that led out of the basement in frustration. He ran across the entrance hall and out the front doors, only slowing when he had reached a small clearing in the middle of a small clump of living trees. The clearing was a small neglected garden on the outskirts of the Dessan estate until a Fire Faerie burned away the vegetation. The grass had grown back, eventually, and the trees showed signs of growth and a serene atmosphere hung in the quiet area. This was the place Scar usually came when he wanted to be left alone from his grandfather.

     Scar plopped down on the short grass and laid back on the ground, trying to clear it in vain. That stubborn, ignorant Lupe! Does he really think I have a choice in the matter! It's not my fault that grandpa wanted him. And he thinks I'll go back on my word. HA! I wish I never met that Wurymmar, Scar fumed silently, staring up at the cloudy sky. Then his anger faded away and Scar's expression softened. Or do I? Do I really wish Wurymmar were gone? Ever since he came along I actually had someone to talk to for once, someone I could actually confide in. And he is, kind of a good companion to have around.

     Unfortunately, Scar suddenly thought despondently. I can't do anything about him now. It's too late to take anything back. Scar sighed. All of a sudden the short bushes to his side rustled violently and, before Scar could get up, a blurred figure leapt from them and landed directly on top of Scar, pinning him painfully to the ground.

     "What th -"

     "It's me Wurym … you're not Wurymmar!" said the bewildered Lupe as he stared down at Scar.

     "Would you kindly get off me?"

     "Oh, sorry sir," the white Lupe replied in embarrassment as he got off from Scar. Scar rubbed his sore back and glared at the Lupe who bowed his head apologetically. "I apologize for that, sir. I really thought you were someone I knew. Strangely, you smell a lot like him. Well, I'll be leaving now …" The Lupe turned to leave but Scar quickly grabbed a hold of his shoulder.

     "Wait, how do you know Wurymmar?" Scar blurted. The Lupe's eyes widened.

     "I'm his old friend, Vrynian, from the Endless Plains," Vrynian stated. "I followed his scent all the way from the Tyrannian Plateau and ended up here … it's a long story."

     Scar sat down and leaned on a tree trunk. "Why don't you enlighten me about what happened to Wurymmar and you, Vrynian?"


     "And so here I am," Vrynian concluded. Scar nodded in understanding and looked up at the barren branches above him.

     "That's quite some tale you just told me, Vrynian," Scar muttered. "But I'm not so sure Wurymmar would be too happy to see you here." Vrynian saw the pained look on Scar's face and his blood ran cold.

     "What happened to Wurymmar?" Vrynian said haltingly, fearing the worst. Scar sighed and proceeded to tell the whole story about all that had happened the past couple of days.


     "So that's what's happened to him," Vrynian said evenly. He looked straight into Scar's eyes and Scar, expecting an accusatory glare, was surprised when he saw Vrynian's knowing look. "I don't blame you Scar, seeing as you weren't in a good position in the first place.

     "But, as his friend, you should have stood up for him. Wurymmar was my friend too, as he was yours, and I would have at least tried to get him out of trouble."

     "Don't you think I've tried that? I can't go against my word," Scar snapped at Vrynian, who just held up one paw.

     "I know, I know, but didn't you give your word to be his owner?" Vrynian said, slightly stressing the last word, as if in disgust. "And his friend? Was your word then of no importance?" Vrynian saw Scar's brow wrinkle in concentration. "You … we have to rescue him. You gave your word and I think he'd be more than happy to see you and I breaking him out of that cell."

     Scar pondered all that Vrynian had said and found out that it all made sense. And, Scar thought wryly, if I had to choose between grandpa's word and Wurymmar's … Scar straightened up. I'd choose Wurymmar. Scar looked up at Vrynian and gave a slight smile.

     "You're good," Scar admitted sincerely. "You win. Let's go get Wurymmar."

     Vrynian laughed loudly and walked to the edge of the clearing and said, "I know I am, Scar," before the both of them started running in the direction of the Dessan family mansion.

To be continued …

Author's Note: Wurymmar's in a tight pickle. Will Scar and Vrynian get him out when all looks hopeless? Is Scar's grandfather smarter than Scar takes him for? You'll have to wait and see in the next and final part.

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Other Episodes

» Fallout, The Wurymmar Story: Part One
» Fallout, The Wurymmar Story: Part Two
» Fallout, The Wurymmar Story: Part Three
» Fallout, The Wurymmar Story: Part Five

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