James Stone's Timedancer:

A Gargoyles Fan Series

This is a Gargoyles Fan series that coincides with the New Gargoyles Canon established in the 2006 Comic series by Slave Labor Graphics. With a few deviations from the Canon, this series attempts to chronicle the gargoyle Brooklyn's Journey through time after getting caught by the Phoenix Gate in Issue #10 titled "The Gate." Dixie Productions does not take credit for creation of any characters used in the series and does not claim the rights to Gargoyles. All credit goes to Disney, Buena Vista Television and other Gargoyles Producers.

Time Dancer - Season 1 - Episode 1

"The Gate"

Pilot Part 1

By: James Stone


Previously…

"Constantine: "Long live the king."

"Avalon Part1"

Magus: "This book is as good as a map to Avalon...If Constantine or his

soldiers get a hold of it-"

Finella: "Leave the book with me Magus, I will protect it with my life"

Mary: "I'll stay with Finella, a woman alone can run into

trouble...two women can cause plenty of it."

"Avalon, Part1"


New York City, U.S.A. - November, 1997 A.D.

Brooklyn let out a large sigh for what seemed the fifth time in as many minutes. The crimson gargoyle looked off of his perch at the pair who were happily embracing each other in the courtyard below. He didn't mean to stare, but somehow he found it hard to look away. He stayed in the shadows for several minutes, mopping, until he shook himself out of the trance.

"Come on you stupid... - JUST - try to be happy for them!" he thought, angry at himself for feeling like this. It wasn't like this was anything new to him though. He had had feelings for Angela as soon as she had come back from Avalon with Goliath, Elisa, and Bronx. For him it was like love at first sight. "Yeah, like one of those cheesy love movies," he thought bitterly. But, it was how he felt. Not just because she was beautiful, with her flowing black hair and well formed figure, but because she was smart, strong, and ferocious when she got into a fight.

He had tried to win her heart when she had first showed up, but his rokery brother, Broadway, had seemed to snatch it before he even had a chance. Here he was, the second-in-command to Goliath and probably the best fighter of the trio between himself, Broadway, and Lexington, but he would give that all away if it meant Angela would look at him once like she did Broadway.

"Leadership can really suck," he thought before standing up on his perch and glancing at the moon. It was a crescent moon and he could see it was high in the sky, almost midnight. "I have plenty of time until sunrise, I just need to get away from them for a little while." He gave one more glance at the couples direction, he could see that they were still embraced and were chatting affectionately to one another, and jumped from the tower before gliding away from the castle.

He had been doing this more and more lately. Flying around the city, with the wind under his wings, the fresh air flowing through his nose, just him and the chaos of the city- "COUGH," suddenly he gagged.

"Okay, maybe scratch that second one," he thought, after getting the crud out of his mouth. "Yeah, Maybe FRESH air isn't the right word. There is the occasional rough patch."

Nethertheless he continued to fly until, a couple of hours later, he landed having exhausted his wings, on a gray skyscraper about 60 stories tall. He surveyed the area for several minutes. It had been a remarkably quiet night. "Almost, as if all the criminals and dirtbags got together decided to take the night off," he said to himself, chuckling at the thought.

Seeing nothing of note, he was about to take off and head back to the castle when he heard a familiar voice call out to him. "Hey, Brooklyn whatcha up to?" asked Broadway who, worst of all, had brought Angela with him. "You're kidding me?" thought Brooklyn. He had been in a good mood and had all-but forgotten about the lovebirds until he saw them. Now he somehow felt worse than before. He had a sinking feeling in his stomach that he wasn't gonna be able to run away from them this time.

"Are you all right Brooklyn?" asked Angela. Brooklyn, realizing that he still hadn't answered them, replied, "Yeah, I'm fine." He turned away from them and stared into the sky. "I'm not doing anything, just killing moonlight."

"Yeah, It's been Dullsville with Lex and Hudson away in London," said Broadway as he tried to figure out where exactly Brooklyn was staring at, "wish they would come home already."

"Yeah, that's one of my wishes…," Brooklyn murmured under his breath. Broadway was about to ask his brother what exactly he meant by that when Angela called out. "What's that?"

All three of them were now focused on the bright small dot that seemed to be getting closer to them. Suddenly the dot grew bigger, as Brooklyn realized, whatever it was had exploded far up in the sky. Broadway noticed a small fire trail. It seemed a piece of debris had come loose and was arching through the sky toward them.

"LOOK OUT!" Brooklyn shouted. As the debris flew toward them, they all dogged the small fireball that landed on the roof. Brooklyn and Broadway immediately looked into the sky and saw that the fireball was dissipating. "What was that?" asked Broadway to noone in particular.

"Can't say," said Brooklyn, "What do you think Angela…"

Brooklyn broke off his sentence as he turned to Angela. She didn't appear to even hear him. She was staring at the piece of metal on the ground. At first glance they could see it was intricately carved and golden, forged in the shape of a shield, and appeared to have a blue background and what looked like a dragon carved into the center. The two brothers joined her and stared at the object, equally confused about what the object's purpose could be. "Oh, No..." said Angela after a few moments, "It's the Gate! The Phoenix Gate!"

"Phoenix?" thought Brooklyn, "Hmn, that's probably what that dragon is on the front." "Phoenix Gate?" asked Broadway, also confused by Angela's outburst. Turning to the two she said, "The Phoenix Gate is a very powerful talisman that can transport people through the time stream."

"OH, that Phoenix Gate." said Broadway, still not totally understanding. "We should tell Goliath immediately!"

"Well, sure…" said Brooklyn nonchalantly, "it's not everyday a magical time travel talisman falls out of the sky."

"You don't understand," Angela said distressingly, "Goliath released the Gate into the timestream because it was too dangerous…"

But Brooklyn was only half paying attention as he reached for the golden talisman, still smoking from the fire, he jerked his hand back momentarily as a small flame flew out from the object, nearly burning him, before it finally seemed dormant. As he picked it up and held it to his face he could clearly see many faults in the piece of metal, all of which snaked back to a large crack in the center of the talisman.

"Um, Brook, you sure that's a good idea?" inquired Broadway as he eyed the object with distrust having seen it shoot fire near Brooklyn. The crimson gargoyle flipped the talisman over, still warm in his hands and inspected the back, "Well, if I remember Goliath's story right, we need a magic spell to get it to work don't we? Besides, it seems dormant."

Angela also cautioned Brooklyn, "Careful please. We should take it to the castle, Xanatos might have something that could contain it."

"Yeah.." said Brooklyn, half listening as he traced the large scar in the talisman with his claw. "Say, Angela was it damaged when you had it last?"

"What?" she inquired, having not seen the new marks until now, "It must have happened afterward." Suddenly her face contorted into a scowl. "Something feels off, maybe we should leave it and come back."

"Well, we can't just leave it here for just anyone to pick up-" Brooklyn was abruptly cut off as the talisman grew warm in his hands. His attempts to drop the object were futile. It stuck to his hand as if it were held there with superglue. Fire began to appear around him and the blaze quickly overwhelmed him. Angela and Broadway both looked on with horror as their friend was engulfed in fire and disappeared before their eyes.

"BROOKLYN!" cried out Broadway in vain when he finally found his voice. He stood there in stunned silence as Angela voiced his worst fears with a tear in her eye, "We've lost him...maybe forever."


Scotland - June, 977 A.D.

She could hear the clunking of the men-at-arms' boots hitting the cobblestone road outside the monastery. She risked a peek outside the window and saw two men, arms over each other, walk up too and greet another, who was propped up against a shop across the street from her. All of them had a tankard in hand and, she surmised, they had all wondered over from the nearby tavern. She watched as they entered the store and proceeded to take what they wanted, laughing and singing the whole time, while the kindly owner with a graying beard watched in despair.

"There is nothing you can do for them, my lady," said Mary who had walked over to her when she wasn't looking. Lady Finella, former noblewoman to the murdered King Kenneth's court, embraced her lady-in-waiting Mary with a tear rolling down her face.

"Oh, Mary, if only I hadn't been so selfish and blind, I could have seen what Constantine was doing and tried to stop it."

Mary Pulled away from the blond lady and looked her in the eyes with a steely gaze, "Now, stop. We've talked about this before. You couldn't have possibly known what he was up too, and he would have killed Kenneth with, or without you."

"Yes, you are right," she said now, her resolve restored, "and Mary, you don't have to call me a lady anymore, Finella is just fine."

The older woman smiled at that. This was not the first time that Finella had asked her to stop calling her by her title, but to Mary, it had become a habit. "Now, you know I can't do that," she said jokingly.

Suddenly the door to the small room, in which they had been staying for the last couple of weeks, was flung open, before quickly being closed. Turning to them was Brother Gareth, an older monk whose hair was beginning to show signs of his many years. He wore a large brown cloak, which was tied up with a simple rope at his waist. He had no beard and the top of his head was bald, with just a ring of hair around the edges. Unlike most monks, he carried a staff for self defence, as he had once been a soldier in the late King Kenneth's army before he had dedicated his life to worship.

"Finella...Mary," he said, greeting the lady's, "I apologize for the intrusion but I'm afraid it could not wait." The two women walked toward the monk, "It is no longer safe for you here in the city, another company of men-at-arms arrived an hour ago. It seems that Constantine knows that you are here somehow."

Both women looked at him, startled as he continued, "This poster was nailed to a building a few doors down. You should read it." He handed the sheet of paper to finella. "What does it say, milady?" asked Mary.

Finella's face quickly resembled one of disgust, "WANTED ALIVE by order of THE GREAT KING CONSTANTINE THE III…" "He wants us alive, How kind of him," commented Mary.

Finella continued, "... for the murder of our beloved KING KENNETH II… He lays his crimes at our feet...and at the feet of the Magus and your boy Tom!"

"At least they're safe on Avalon with Princess Katherine," said Mary.

"We're to blame for her disappearance too!" Finella exclaimed "For the ABDUCTION of his highness's royal cousin and the theft of the King's Grimorum…" "Of course, he wants to get his dirty hands on the magic book as well," Mary mocked. "He claps you and I WITCHES….says we're in league with "DEMON GARGOYLES," exclaimed Finella.

"Don't worry Finella, I don't believe a word of what that devil says," assured Gareth.

Finella turned to the kindly monk and put her hand on his shoulder with a smile, "Thank you Brother, you might be the only one on this side of Scotland who does. Lord knows what would have happened had we not found you."

"My lady, we cannot stay here, we must flee soon before it gets too risky for us to leave," said Mary who now peaked out the window at the soldiers below. Finella seemed to think for a moment before she turned to the two of them, the beginnings of a plan starting to form in her head. "I have an idea. Mary we must pack our things. Brother could you sneak us out of the city if we were disguised?"

The Monk looked puzzled for a moment before he understood what she was getting at, "Yes that's it, pilgrims journeying home after a long stay of worship at the monastery...yes...there is a chance that it could work. I'll make the necessary preparations to accompany you." But Finella was already shaking her head, "No Brother, I must insist you let us out near the woods at the edge of the county then return to the city. If you are found out to be involved with us, Constantine would kill you."

Father James wasn't listening though, "My dear, the day of my death will come when the Lord so chooses. I want to accompany you on your journey. It will look more convincing if you actually have a monk with you and I can help you to navigate."

Finella wanted to protest, but she knew that he was right and he also likely knew the land better than they did. He could be a guide. "Very well, but it will be dangerous."

"Not to worry milady, it's not the first campaign that I have been on," he said with a grin. He then turned toward the door and opened it, stopping in the doorway to say one last thing, "It would be best if we left tomorrow afternoon, so that I have time to prepare transport for us. I'll see you two then?"

"Yes, that would be splendid. We shall make west for my cousin Findlaech, we should be safe behind his walls." Having heard this the monk left the two women alone in the discreet room.

"Are you sure Findlaech will aid us, milady?"

"Don't worry Mary, my cousin was fiercely loyal to Kenneth. As soon as he hears the true story of the king's passing, he will not rest until Constantine is off the throne."


"That is the cave ahead sire!" yelled the royal guardsman at the front of the group. The party came halt at this and the riders dismounted from their horses. Towards the front of the group, riding a white stallion warhorse, the scheming King Constantine III called out to his men.

"Commander! Send two of your men in to see if the beast's are still there! They should be powerless during the day, but want no surprises."

"Yes, Sire," acknowledged his Commander, Mail Brigti, who proceeded to pick two guardsmen on the edge of the group. He pointed to the two men, who were both around their mid-thirties, and gave a single gesture toward the cave. The duo hastily worked their way up the hill, both eager to be out of the sight of the, quick to anger, king for a few brief moments. They reached the mouth of the cave. One lit a torch he had pulled from his saddle bag, the other drew his sword, before they disappeared through the mouth of the cave.

While Constantine was watching them, his Commander's son, Gillecomgain had walked up behind him. The king turned to the boy and, not for the first time, studied his scarred face. He had been attacked when he was younger by a "rouge gargoyle in search of food," as his father had put it, and had developed an insatiable hunger for the blood of gargoyles. Even now the boy had a look that was a mixture of rage and excitement. He would become an asset to Constantine's rule in the coming years.

"Always send two," declared the King out loud.

"I beg your pardon, your majesty?" asked Mail.

"I was speaking to your ward Commander," at this the boy turned to him. "Young Gillecomgain here should know propper scouting etiquette. Tell me boy, do you know why you always send two scouts?" The young ward shook his head. "If you sent one, and he was captured, then he would not be able to deliver his message. If you send three, they would be spotted a mile away. But, If you send two, then their chances of being spotted are less, and if they are, one would only need to run faster than the other to get the message to his superiors. That is why you send two. Remember that."

"Don't worry my lord, I will," he answered with a hint of determination. At this time the two guardsmen reemerged from the darkness of the cave.

"They are here, sire! You were right, they be stone statues!" The King and his party began walking up the slope toward the cave. As they reached the entrance, the two guards went back into the cave ahead of the king. Constantine held out his hand and one of the guards immediately deposited a lit torch into it. The King surveyed his men, most had swords, a few had spears, but a select few including himself, Mail, and Gillecomgain were all armed with large war maces. Perfect tools for smashing stone statues to pieces.

"Good hunting," he declared before turning and entering into the cave, his men right behind him.

The cave snaked back for almost twenty feet before opening into a large chamber. In the light of the group's torches light danced off the figures before them, creating twisted shadows. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he could clearly make out almost twelve statues of varying size, shape, and gender. Gargoyles.

He walked up to the second figure over from the entrance. He could see it was a female, who had horns protruding from it's chin and forehead, and whose wings were draped around itself.

Without a second thought he brought up his warmace and slammed it into the gargoyle, taking off its left-half. The second blow was more definite and knocked the beast's head clean off. A few more swings later and all that remained of the creature was a pile of rubble.

As he stopped to take a breath, he saw his men destroying the other statues. Out of all of them, the young Gillecomgain seemed to have the most passion for the cause. He watched as the boy moved from one statue to the next, his berserker rage only growing stronger with each blow he landed.

"DIE, DEMON! DIE!" he yelled.

"Your son has a talent for this, Brigti," he said to the Commander.

"Aye your Highness, Gillecomgain can be quite single-minded, when the situation requires it."

A few minutes later, all of the statues were now small piles of rubble on the cave floor. A quick inspection further into the cave yielded nothing. They had destroyed all of them.

As the party made its way out of the cave Constantine turned to one of his men. "You, put a poster on that tree there, let people know that a small victory was won here today." He turned to Brigiti, "Let's return to the command center, we shall see if any word has come in of our elusive witches."

With that the party mounted up, and turned to galo away from the now empty cave. Posted outside the entrance on a tree was a lone sheet with a warning, "DEMON CAVE: By order of THE GREAT KING CONSTANTINE III it is forbidden to enter. Trespassers will be PUNISHED to the highest extent of the law.


The captain of the city guard was making his rounds. His chainmail rattled against itself as he made his way up the streets. He had just checked up on the guards on the western wall and was now heading to the mess hall to get his report for that day. Like always he expected a relatively uneventful day, with a few pheasants being taken in to work for not being able to pay for the entrance tax.

As he entered the hall, he walked up to one of the men sitting down on a bench, eating his evening meal of soup. "Evening, Walace, anything to report." The older guard with a graying-black mustache looked up at him slightly annoyed at being interrupted.

"Come on Captain, you ought to know that nothin' of note ever happens ere'."

"Report Walace," he insisted sternly. The man rolled his eyes before spouting out a quick answer.

"Nothing of note to report, the gate was calm today. We picked up a few people for disturbing the peace, but other than that, nothing."

He had expected it but, like always, he was a little disappointed. Tipping his helmet to the guard, he trudged over to the food and poured himself some soup, before he sat down and began to eat vigorously.

He ate so loud and fast he almost didn't overhear the conversation on the bench behind him.

"...so I walk up to the dame, who I can see is pretty as pie under her hood, and she gives me that look like she wants me to go away. I see right away that she's gonna play hard to get. So I decide to make the first move, the ladies like that doncha know, and I say "Miss, you're not going to believe me but, there is no other reason for us meeting here than divine intervention."

"Oh yea, I bet you almost got her didn't you," mocked one guard.

"Aye, I almost did," he said pointing a finger at him, "but she must have misunderstood me because she gave me one of those stares that let me know she was not interested. Ahh, but I'll get her next time she rolls through that gate, mark my words, her and her soft hands and beautiful blond hair."

The Captain suddenly turned around so fast he almost spilled his soup all over himself. "You. You said she was blond, pretty, and had smooth hands?" The man was confused but nodded his head. "What was she wearing, who was she with?"

"Well Captain she was a pheasant, probably on a mission for the monastery because she was with a monk and older woman. I assumed she was going along to learn the ropes. They rode out on a simple carriage pulled by a donkey."

"Two women? One older than the other? One blond and obviously trying to stay out of plain sight?" thought the captain, "it's too much of a coincidence."

"You need something Captain," asked Walace as he now walked over to the growing commotion that everybody was staring at. "Yes, Walace there is." He turned to the younger guardsman "You, gather six others, tell them to mount up and to meet me by the gate. Oh, inform them there's a reward in it for them. Walace, the walls are yours until I return."

"Captain, where are you going?" inquired the confused Walace. "To catch us some traitors, my good friend, and catch the king's attention if we can. Inform the King's troops in the city, tell them to send word to Constantine, we've found his "witches."


Brooklyn found himself falling through the air. He had no time to recover as he slammed onto the side of a hill and began to roll down it. To slow himself down, he threw out his wings, arms, legs and tail and managed to stop himself rolling. On his back, he came to a halt having almost hit a tree. The very confused gargoyle picked leaped up and took a battle position, only to be met with no opposition whatsoever.

"What the…what just happened?" Stepping out of a defensive stance, he scanned his surroundings and noted that he appeared to be in a thick forest. The fall had shaken him slightly and he tried to remember how he got there. He remembered Angela saying the gate was dangerous, then him not being able to drop it, then a ball of fire…

"THE GATE!" he realized, "where is it?" He frankly searched the area around him, to no avail. At this point he inhaled deeply through his nostrils, showing his frustration, and noticed that he could smell almost everything around him. He was surprised at himself for almost forgetting he could do that, though to be fair, he had found early on that in New York City, it was better not to take in all of the natural smells.

He smiled, as he breathed in the fresh air. He smelled the game, like rabbits and deer, that had walked over this area. He smelled the trees and the small amount of grass that was on the side of the hill he had rolled down. He also smelled….burning?

"No," he said to himself, "not burning, not fire anyway." He worked his way through the woods several feet from where he had landed and found the source of the mysterious smell.

"There it is." The phoenix gate had lodged itself several feet up into an oak, having been thrown by him during his fall. He sank his talons and claws into the tree and climbed up to the metal trinket. Grabbing the object he found it was logged in farther than he originally thought. Grunting, he wiggled the gate, eventually pulling it free. He jumped back down to the ground and inspected it. He noted that it appeared to be unaltered though still quite damaged.

"What has this thing been through to get it this banged up?" he wondered.

Shrugging, the gargoyle deposited the Phoenix Gate in a pouch on the back of his belt and once again surveyed the area. "Well Brooklyn...Where are You?" The gate had no doubt transported him someplace else. "Maybe even a different time," he thought worryingly. He needed to figure out where he was.

Sniffing the air once again he searched signs of civilization, but smelled no fire or even pollution. With no notion of which way to go, he eventually decided to just head away from the hill in a random direction.

Through the cracks in the tree canopy he could see the moon was at a half. This confirmed he was indeed in a different time. "Well it's about midnight, If I keep moving forward, I'll find civilization eventually."


The cart bounced as one of the wheels rolled over a rock. The three passengers, not for the first time grabbed onto the sides of the cart to keep themselves from falling off. Brother Gareth murmured under his breath. The cart was well past it's "glory" days, if it had ever had any, and they all realized that at one point they would have to stop and fix it for the third time that night. They had been more interested in covering ground from the city, than having a smooth ride and they were starting to suffer for it.

"Be ready, lady Mary, that wheel is going to go again," he said turning to the passenger in the back. "Aye, I can feel it loosening back here as we go along."

"Brother Gareth, how much further until we reach the next town?" asked Finella in the front bench next to him.

"Well, if we go along here...um...there should be a stream near here." If there was a stream they couldn't see it in the dark or hear it over the creaking of the cart.

In an attempt to get his bearings, the monk pulled on the reins and they gradually slowed to a stop. They all tried to listen for the body of water but, they could only hear the sounds of crickets and night birds in the forest.

"Do any of you remember which fork we last went through, did we go left or right?" Mary piped up, "You took a right on the last fork but a left on the one before that."

"Oh, well then we should be close then... or farther away." It was Finella's turn to be worried now, "Brother, you do know where we're going don't you?" Her frown quickly became deeper, "you do know where we are, don't you?"

The monk turned to the women with an honest face, "I never was good at navigating at night, or day either really. My apologies but i'm afraid we're lost."

"Lost eh!" a voice called out suddenly from the gloom in front of them. "We might be able to help, who are you?"

The three watched as an armed party emerged from the shadows of the forest. Each man had either a sword, mace, or spear. The man who was apparently their leader addressed the trio once more.

"Well, who are you?"

Finella thought quick, "We are pilgrims on the way to the next village. If you could point us in the right direction we would be most thankful."

"Would ya?" muttered the captain of the guard. He turned to a younger man and pulled out a sheet of paper and pointed to it, "well, lad, is it them?" The guard nodded his head, absolutely sure that it was the same group he had seen earlier that day.

"Alright "pilgrims" you can drop the act, we know who you are, your likeness isn't exactly subtle. Now, step out of the art nice and easy and we promise you won't be hurt."

Mary instinctively reached for the Grimorum. Brother Gareth stood up in the cart, but did not dismount, instead reaching for his staff.

"I'm afraid we can't do that, sir, " he said defiantly.

The soldiers got a few chuckles out of this. The captain was holding back a grin. "Very well, we'll have to come to you then." He gestured toward the trio and several of the guards advanced on them.

One unlucky spearman was caught off guard as the monk suddenly lashed out with his staff and struck him across the chest. It didn't hurt him badly, but it knocked the wind out of him and he fell back out of his reach. The monk had now jumped down off the cart and was jabbing at the guards in a defensive stance. They looked to their leader for what to do next.

"Well, we gots a fighter here, don't we! Don't worry men, he's not on the poster. GUT HIM!"


He had been walking through the forest relatively quietly when his sharpened ears picked up the voices. At first he thought he had imagined them, but he soon realized they were real and coming from close by.

Moving with quiet speed he eventually found the source as he creeped behind a large tree. A group of men was surrounding the front of a horse-drawn...scratch that donkey-drawn buggy in which were three people, one of whom looked familiar to the gargoyle. He saw the glint of metal as a man with a spear walked toward the robed figure, who batted him away, obviously trying to protect the others in the cart.

It was the next words that caused Brooklyn to tense up, "...don't worry men, he's not on the poster. GUT HIM!"

It was clear the only reason the man had not been cut down yet was because they had intended to take him alive, that did not appear to be the case anymore. Brooklyn's instincts to protect took over as he charged out from cover, eyes aglow and roaring a terrifying battlecry.

The first man barely had time to react as Brooklyn grabbed him. Using his momentum, the gargoyle grabbed the man, spun around, and hurled him into another. The two men were both thrown back several feet. One landed on a rock, his helmet keeping his head from turning to mush, but knocking him out. The other went full force into a tree, Brooklyn could hear the cracking of ribs as he slammed into it.

The group, startled at the sudden appearance of the gargoyle, drew back in fear. "The witches have summoned a DEMON," cried one. At this the gargoyle gave a deep growl, daring them to get closer.

The Captain however, was determined, "Come on, it can be hurt. If we all attack at once we shall slay it."

This seemed to snap the men back into it as they brought their weapons back up and charged.

Another spearman reached Brooklyn first. He easily side-stepped his jab, grabbed the spear and ripped it from the man's hands before swinging it back around and whacking him hard in the back of his head. The guard slammed into the ground and laid still.

Turning around, he brought up the wood of the staff to block a sword stroke down. Pushing the sword back up, he caught the guard off balance and he brought the handle of the spear to hit him in the side of the head.

Not waiting to see him fall, he turned to two others. Holding the spear in the same way once more to block, he found the man had a mace and his swing broke the weapon like it was a toothpick. Throwing down the broken spear, he turned to another man with a sword. He lashed out with his tail, and wrapped it around the throat of the man with the mace, throwing him face first into the dirt, whie he grabbed the hands of the man with the sword and squeezed. The man howled in pain at the sound of his bones cracking. He let go of his weapon, and collapsed to the floor. A well placed kick knocked him out cold.

By now there were only two left. Unfortunately by taking down the last man, he had taken his focus off of them. He barely sidestepped another man with a mace, grabbing his weapon hand with one claw and his throat with the others. Suddenly, he felt a sharp pain on his left side. Blood poured out a sword wound that ran down his arm. As the swordsman came back for another swing, he could see that it was the leader of the group.

As the Captain swung at the gargoyle once more, Brooklyn made a decision. He let go of the man with the mace's weapon hand, moved his already wounded left arm against it's protesting, and caught the sword before it could do major damage.

By now the man with the mace had slipped into unconsciousness after being strangled by the gargoyle and Brooklyn released him, letting his body hit the ground. Using his adrenaline and strength he pulled the sword from the leader's hands and used his other claw to land a blow on his face. The captain reeled back in shock as Brooklyn took the sword and held it in his good hand.

Walking forward, the gargoyle grabbed the captain by the head, spun him around, and threw him face first into a tree. The man, like his goons, was out cold.

Holding up the sword, he inspected it, "hmn..not a bad piece of kit." He quickly scanned around the area to make sure he had indeed got everyone, when he noticed that the humans he had been trying to save were still there.

This was strange. At the worst, he had expected them to attack him, at the best, they would have run away, but they had not moved. He studied them for a moment, eyes still glowing to ward them off. Maybe they were his enemies too.

Suddenly one of the humans got off the carriage and walked toward him. She was beautiful by human standards, her picturesque features not contrasting well with the simple pheasants cloak she wore. This, however, was not the most startling thing about her, it was what she said next that caught him off guard.

"Thank you," she said, "for saving our lives."

Brooklyn was momentarily struck speechless. He had rarely been thanked in this manner before by any humans. Even in Manhattan the humans rarely stopped to thank him for saying them from muggers, choosing instead to run away in terror.

She didn't stop there either. Noticing that he was still bleeding from his open wound, she walked back over to the cart and brought back a few clean rags and bandages. "You're hurt, I can dress that wound you have there, if you'll allow me. It could get infected." He saw nothing but compassion in the womens eyes. Nodding his head he reached out his arm for her.

She began wrapping the clean rag around his arm. She flinched a few times when he growled in pain, but it seemed to be over fear of hurting him rather than fear of him.

When she was done he inspected it. There was now a large cloth wrapped around his arm and hand, where he had caught the captain's sword. Finella once again showed her appreciation, "You didn't have to help us and you've endangered yourself by doing so. So once again, thank you."

"You're...uh...you're welcome. Why were they attacking you?"

It was another woman who answered, "There is a price on our head good sir. My name is Mary. This is the Lady Finella, former consort to King Kenneth, and out guide Brother Gareth."

"Good sir?" he thought, "I'm moving up in the world."

"As for those men," Mary continued, "they are likely hunters trying to get rich from the bounty put on our heads by King Constantine."

He didn't quite know the contexts of the situation but he decided to try and play along. "King Constantine? Last I heard, Kenneth was on the throne."

At this the lady called Finella tensed up, "King Kenneth is dead, murdered by Constantine's hands. He is searching for us as we carry the knowledge of his true fate and the location of Princess Catherine."

"Murdered? Princess Catherine? What year is it?" When his comment brought blank stares he quickly said, "I've been in the forests hiding for a while, I've lost track of time." It seemed that they bought it, for the monk answered, "It is the year of our Lord 997."

"997! So three years after the massacre... and a thousand years from Manhattan, great."

He turned to the group again, "You said you know where Princess Catherine is?"

Finella answered, "Yes, we believe that the king wishes to go to Avalon, kidnap Princess Katherine, and destroy her precious gargoyle eggs in punishment for spurning him."

This caught the gargoyles attention. If Constantine destroyed the eggs on Avalon, then Angela would never be born. He didn't want to get involved in history but realized he had no choice. He had to get these people to safety or risk his own future. It was apparent that they did not know who he was, or that he was of the same clan whom Katherine was protecting and he saw no reason to tell them...yet. He was stuck in the past now, with no idea how to get back to the future, and with no other options or goals before him. His next decision was an easy one.

"If what you say is true, then there will be more men like these," he pointed to the incapacitated guards, "searching for you. I pledge myself to your service and ask for you to accept, for the sake of the eggs and to see Constantine's downfall."

At this the three humans seemed to brighten up. None of them had expected this warrior to appear but he was there now, and he would be welcome on the journey ahead. "Very well warrior, do you have a name that we may call you," asked Finella.

The gargoyle almost said Brooklyn as a reflex, but stopped himself. It would be better if his name didn't end up in the history books. He decided to simply reply, "No." He then turned to the whole group and said, "we should ride now and put as much distance between ourselves and these men," whom he could see were starting to wake up.

First though there were things to do. Brother James took out his hammer and banged on the wonky cart wheel in an attempt to get it to stay on this time. Brooklyn found the soldiers' horses tied up not too far away. Some were scared of him but others weren't. In one of the saddlebags he found a series of ropes that he guessed had been meant for the group he had just saved. He gathered the men together and tied them together around a big tree, but he tied the captain up all by himself. After scattering their horses and throwing their weapons far away in every direction, he thought that he had done enough to slow them down, but he decided to do one more thing, just in case they got ambitious.

By now the Captain had partially woken up and was noticing for the first time that he was tied up. Before he could attempt to break free, he saw that the moon was blocked out. Standing over him was a powerful looking, devilish gargoyle that was holding his own sword in it's good hand. With its eyes aglow, the captain watched as the creature uncliped his sheath from his belt and clipped it around it's own waist, before inserting the sword into it.

The monster then reached down with his good hand and grabbed his throat, before speaking. "Listen up, these people are under my protection. I have been kind enough not to kill you, but your good health could come to an end should you choose to follow us. Do you understand what I am saying?"

The captain, not able to form words, nodded vigorously. "Good, because with me there are no second chances."

With that the gargoyle released the man, walked over to the wagon, and climbed in the back with Mary. Once again he found himself trying to figure out what was so familiar about her.

He quickly lost focus though when the cart hit it's first bump, he decided that he would try to fix it tomorrow, right now they needed to focus on distance.

As soon as they were out of sight the group of men turned to their captain for direction. Beaten and humiliated the guard shrugged his shoulders and said, "Let's get out of these bonds, find our things, and go home lads. I don't know about you but I don't want to die to some witches and their demons tonight.

The men silently all agreed, knowing that they were better off going home with their tails between their legs then not going home at all.


To Be Continued...