Narrator:
This work is an independently made audio-play of Book 1 of The Piper Wars saga by Lillian Ashcroft and Co-Authors Will Spears and H.L. Grey. This work is dedicated to the author's beloved wife and to all the love and warmth she has given them.
Now, before we begin, let us first give a quick comment concerning canon and context relevant to this work. This series of books assumes as mostly canon: the original Peter Pan and the novel; Alice's Adventures in Wonderland by Lewis Carroll (with the exception of an alteration made to the ending of Alice's Adventures in Wonderland in which our dear Alice fails to wake up from her dream) and thus must accept that Wonderland is very very real.
The events of this book pick up exactly where these two original works leave off, with Alice fleeing the courtroom during her trial with the Red Queen. In the Neverlands, we pick up with Hook about an hour or two after being swallowed by the Ticking Croc.
Now, before anyone in this beloved audience assumes that because we take as canon these two previously established works that this audio-play will be a long drudging stroll down paths already worn through a land of the dull and already familiar, let us assure you the journey will be a fascinating and intriguing path through elements both nostalgic and unexplored… through both the known and the unknown, and it will be unlike any journey you have ever gone on… Whether your partaking of this grand quest is for better or ill is a distinction we leave up to you, our dear travelers.
With all that out of the way, please just let us say it is an honor to present this story for your enjoyment, thank you for joining us on this adventure, and please enjoy the story.
Narrator:
Chapter 1: Washed Ashore… The year is 1911 A.D., Siren's Shore, The Far
North-Eastern Coasts of the Neverlands in the Realm of Ishrakie. Small bits of shell roll to and fro as the churning waves of the sea heave starfish, seaweed, and a half-digested man onto the sunlit sand. Captain James Hook digs his bloodied digits and stump into the coarse sediment.
Captain Hook:
[ Disgusting coughing fit followed by growls of pain, rage and determination until the growls give way to heavy panting of exhaustion ]
Narrator:
The brutalized Captain drags his decimated frame further up the beach before collapsing. His coat, pants, and boots were lost in the churning gut of the crocodile. His sword is not lost, but rather left on purpose, sticking halfway from the creature's belly. It had been the key to his escape from the Croc's putrid stomach.
Shivers and spasms squirm through his body. His torn white underclothes cling to his burnt and lacerated skin. The once beautiful hair is now eaten by stomach acid.
Narrator:
The captain coughs blood and seawater as sharp pain slices through him with every breath. With blurred vision, he scans the stormy sea as his mind fades out, wandering back to the moment of his bitter defeat.
Peadar Pan shimmers in his typical arrogant splendour, and they do their battle dance around each other, both of them looking for the right moment to strike as the boy continues to smirk at him.
Captain Hook:
Pan. So cocky, so smug… The little puke!
Narrator:
Their blades clang jarringly as they trade blows. Hook stands firm on the deck as the boy leaps from a barrel onto a nearby railing. Rage burning, Hook charges. His blade leans in for the fatal kiss; Pan spins to the side, landing a glancing cut below Hook's knee, sending him stumbling over the edge of the ship. Hook meets a geyser of saltwater and beastly teeth as the croc leaps up from the waves below. The Croc's bite takes his head and shoulders whole, pulling him in. Hook and the Croc both fall back into the sea as he is swallowed completely.
Captain Hook:
"Peadar blasted Pan! HE WAS MINE!"
Narrator:
Savage pain jolts from Hook's cracked ribs and weeping abrasions, pulling him back to the present. His eyes flutter, finally sensing the touch of rain upon his face. Stinging droplets whip in sideways from the gale storm, forming out at sea. He tries to wipe his eyes with his hand, only to find it stiff and unmoving. He lies a broken man without the strength to move as each receding wave laps life away from him. Iron-willed, he summons up the last of his strength. He shoves with all his might, warring against the searing pain consuming him as he manages to roll onto his back.
As he stares up at the scorched sky above, the numbness takes him. A powerful boom erupts above him as great searing light bolts and builds within the blackened clouds. Another loud crack shatters the heavens as a searing white-hot plasmatic bolt of energy tears from the sky, igniting the coastal waters.
Captain Hook:
Hook growls and snarls in agony as the radiant flash burns his retinas.
Narrator:
Captain Hook tries to rub away the prismatic phantoms left behind in his eyes, but his arms refuse him. He shakes his head weakly to avoid the burning of the brilliant light in his eyes, causing a wave of nausea to wash over him. Even with his eyes closed, he feels it until at last the sensation dulls, and he re-opens his eyes and his vision clears. Staring in bewildered at the sight before him. Atop the thrashing waves strolls a figure. At first, the being seems to be a tall flame, orange and twisting through the veil of rain before abruptly sharpening into the form of a man. He appears gaunt with starvation, garbed in a pumpkin-orange suit with black pinstripes. A long row of coal-black buttons punctuates his jacket. A wide black leather belt clasped with a large golden buckle cinches his clothing tight at the waist before allowing the orange cloth to flare out over matching trousers. Black shiny dress shoes flash in unison with the lightning.
The man steps onto the land before strolling cheerfully over to the beached and battered Hook, crouching beside him. The jaunty man flips back the end of his scarf as it comes loose in the wind. His garment appears to be composed of hundreds of intricately cut and sewn rat pelts, giving it a heavy but dexterous nature. It clings like a lover to the man's neck.
The Piper:
Warm greetings, James. I hope I'm not coming at a bad time (teasingly followed by a brief but maniacal fit of guffawing).
Captain Hook:
(Hook snarls angrily in response, but as the pain surpasses the rage, he feels his snarls turn to whimpers.)
The Piper:
"Oh my. Dear me, oh dear, oh dear… You seem to be dying and without your sword or your good hand. Tisk Tisk. Look at you! How pathetic. Unarmed and whimpering. That's no way for a man of adventure like you to die, now, is it? Crying and weak like some prepubescent boy… breaks my heart… or at least it… Well, no matter.
You truly are a tearful sight. No, this won't do, no sir, this won't do at all. No, a man, a man like you ought to die in a feather bed upon a pile of plunder. Cozy in ill-gotten luxury while being pleasured by a gaggle of young girls and tender boys trained in the art of debauchery," ( keep in mind The Piper is teasing him and not being serious in that last sentence, is sort of making a meta / 4th wall breaking joke about some of the rumors that have circulated about the Captain Hook character for a long time ).
Narrator:
The stranger strokes Hook's cheek tenderly, examining his ravaged form with a sadistic smile before locking his eyes with Hook's. The strange being stares deep into Hook's soul.
The Piper:
"(crazed laughter)… oh my my my how careless of me. Where are my manners? I never introduced myself. You probably have not heard of me. My exploits were made famous in, shall we say, a place your ships cannot sail. You may call me the Piper."
Narrator:
The orange-clad twig of a man jumps to his feet and gives a mock bow before kneeling back down and leaning in close to Hook. His face so close to Hook's that he can see that where there should have been a face the man had only condensed swirling cosmos with the top of half of his head garbed in a shimmering crimson skull-style death mask and the bottom where there should have been a mouth of flesh was instead lips made of nebulous dust and universe molded into form. He pulls from within his sleeve a rolled-up document, which he whips open with a flourish. He presents the document to the dying captain, summoning forth a long quill with thin black plumage. The Piper maneuvers the pen into Hook's bad hand.
The Piper:
"If you are indeed not ready to meet your watery compatriot Davy Jones, you need only make your mark upon this parchment. You will be erased from the Book of Death and granted the power to dangle the Neverlands from the tip of your… hook." (should be read in the tone of a soft, loving whisper).
Narrator:
The Piper places a kiss on Hook's stump where his hook would normally be.
Captain Hook:
The... terms? (should sound strained and croakish due to his acid and sea-salt scorched throat).
The Piper:
Mistrustful to the end. (insert a quick fit of delighted giggling) That's good! I don't need a broken child as my general in the Neverlands. I need you fighting. One day I will require your sword for a great and glorious battle, and when it's done, we will be square. So… Is it a deal?
Narrator:
The Piper bends his brow and grins, waiting for an answer as Hook continues to lie on his back, bleeding out. His body is weak, bloated from saltwater absorption, anchored to his frame by the two chunks of blue glacier hatred in his eyes. The Piper holds his gaze on the captain. Then with a sudden violence, Hook stabs the quill into the end of his stump and begins to sign Capt, but the Piper lays a hand on the effort.
The Piper:
"Your proper name, if you please,"
Narrator:
Hook nods as the letters drag themselves out on the blotched and sea-sprayed parchment. Captain James W. Fordon. As the 'n' completes, his hand collapses to the sand. The last of his mortal strength spent.
The Piper:
"Yes, yes… right as rain deed lee de. Oh, very good, sir,"
Narrator:
The Piper claps excitedly for a moment before straightening up and rolling the parchment, slipping it back into his coat. The Piper procures a small, black flake and a thumb-sized clam from one of his coat pockets. Bending down with a shrug and a shake, he presses the clam into Hook's palm.
The Piper:
"These are for you, but to get us started, grasp this, my boy… use with care for this is no ordinary mollusk,"
Narrator:
The Piper's words are to no avail as the barely breathing captain fails to respond, slipping in and out of consciousness. The Piper frowns as his head rotates a full but slow clicking 360-degree rotation before snapping back into proper position. The Piper shakes his head in deep dissatisfaction.
The Piper:
"Oh, now this won't do. No, not at all. You are too engrossed in death's requiem to get your orders, what to do? What to do? Well, desperate times and all that."
Narrator:
The Piper smiles maliciously as he mashes the black flake into the end of Hook's bloody stump. The black flake sinks deep into the pale flesh of Hook's wrist-nub, causing phantom wisps of dark blue and purple energy to bloom from the spot. Thin black tendril-like veins shift and twist, growing out and in. The tendrils burrow into the bone and muscle, crystallizing into an ebony lattice that spreads up above his elbow.
Varicose charcoal veins stretch further up Hook's arm from under the newly formed lattice through his shoulder and into his chest.
Captain Hook:
(Painful growls and raging)
Narrator:
The purple and blue surges of color streak through Hook's veins as his entire body convulses. Chasms of torn flesh knit together. Sagging muscles become piano wire. Dark hair sprouts from his scalp, stubble on his chin, and a thick black meadow of hair down his chest. After several moments, the spasms calm down to mere twitchings.
Hook's closed eyes toss and turn as though he's suffering nightmares, and then an unfathomable calm sweeps over him. His breath steadies, and his eyes open. The Piper straightens up, gesturing for Hook to climb to his feet. Hook rises with a newfound strength. The Piper unbuttons the top of his coat, reaches an arm into the elbow of his coat, and pulls out an impossibly long item.
The Piper:
"When you face Pan again, you will probably want this,"
Narrator:
Captain Hook's rapier sings its legend to the wind as the Piper drags the shining blade through the air before turning and offering the blade back to its rightful owner. Its song continues to echo through Hook for a moment, resonating deep inside him.
Hook reaches out, reclaiming the cherished weapon he had thought lost forever. He re-tightens what remains of his belt around his torn underclothes with his stump and his bad hand before securing his sword to it. He looks up at the Piper and shreds out a grimace-grin.
Captain Hook:
"Bloody good form,"
Narrator:
Hook looks down at the clam the Piper gave him, tucking it into his belt as the Piper sidles up, holding his hat down against the ferocious gusts of wind.
The Piper:
"Don't lose that clam, Captain, it will be your guide through the P… Pa… Pale Waters."
Captain Hook:
"The Pale Waters? What would Captain James Hook…"
Narrator:
The captain pauses as he lifts his now black lattice-covered stump, sees his good hand… his hook missing and frowns.
Captain Hook:
"... want in those accursed waves?"
The Piper:
"Your throne, of course. Hold the clam to the horizon, and it will show you the way,"
Narrator:
Hook carefully listens before nodding. Looking out to sea, Hook scans the coastline out to the storm-scorched horizon.
Captain Hook:
"The wind was blowing East by Southeast when last Pan and I battled near Marooners' Rock. So, we must be on Mistmoon Island or Siren's Shore."
The Piper:
"Very good, Captain. This is indeed Siren's Shore. I'm afraid to say the storm was pushing your body ahead of it, but now that you are stationary, it will be upon you shortly."
Narrator:
Lightning streaks overhead, illuminating the rain like diamonds, sketching the silhouettes of mountains in the distance. Clouds roll in over the white caps, bringing solid darkness ever closer.
Captain Hook:
"How long do I have before you require my steel?"
Narrator:
The Piper strides over and slaps him on the back playfully before putting an arm around Hook's shoulders.
The Piper:
"Plenty of time, my boy. Enjoy yourself. Take a merboy to bed, drink yourself into a stupor and get into a nice brawl or two. (End with amused chuckle)"
Captain Hook:
"Best we head inland,"
The Piper:
"You go ahead, chum. My business draws me elsewhere. I trust you understand what you need to do, hmm?"
Narrator:
Hook nods as he turns and begins making his way towards the treeline, leaving the Piper alone on the beach without another word.