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The Chronicles of John Breasly: Book One was created by John Breasly.


The Chronicles of John Breasly: Book One
TCOJB1
Author King John Breasly II of England
Publication date 22 March 2011
Published by Royal Publishing Company
Publication Order
Preceded by
What If: The Death of John Breasly
Followed by
The Chronicles of John Breasly: Book Two


The Chronicles of John Breasly: Book One



The Magic of Venice


In this story, John finds himself on an emergency trip to Venice, due to a distress call the king sent him. What he discovers is almost more than he can handle. Only John and his friends can overcome this. What will the future hold if they cannot defeat the magic beneath Venice, and it's evil nature?

Chapter 1: Answering the Call

It was a late weekend night. John was in the Royal Museum, studying a magical book called the Krokonomicon. He was just about ready to go to bed, when Admiral Edward Sharktooth of the HMS Empire barged in the room. "Sir," he said, "a message has just arrived from the King of Itlay's brother." John replied, "Soar? What does he need?" Admiral Sharktooth handed him a piece of parchment. It was written in haste. It read:

John,

Shadow has gone missing. I can't fill you in on the details. Come to the Venice as fast as you can. Do not stop for anything. I fear for my brother's life!

-- Soar

Shadow? Missing? John grabbed the Krokonomicon, a few other books, and ran down into the galleries. What should I bring, he thought? He went into the weapons gallery. No, he thought, weapons won't do it. He went down a side walkway, and emerged in an underground warehouse. He ran through rows of boxes, until he found one decorated in purple that said Flourish and Botts. He pried it open, grabbed a few books, and went for another case. This one was in green, labeled Slug & Jiggers Apothecary. John opened it, and pulled out a few strange looking bottles and a book. He then rushed out of the museum.

By the time he reached his house, Big Ben was ringing. John knew this meant midnight. He rushed into Hampton Court Palace, and found his sons Matthew Darkskull and Jack Cannonhawk, in the drawing room. "Boys," he said, "we need to get going. King Shadow is in trouble!" Jack jumped up at once, muttered something about being right back, and darted out of the room. Matthew sat, rolling a quill through his fingers, and said, "Why do we need to save him? He's done nothing for us." John scowled and retorted, "He's saved us more times than you can know, Matthew. Now come on, or I'll throw you off Tower Bridge!" Matthew's eyes widened. He stood up, said, "I'll start packing," and walked off, stiff.

By the time they were ready to leave, it was almost sunrise. John and his sons took a carriage to the docks, where they would board the HMS Imperial. There, standing at the helm, was Robert Mcroberts. He and his lieutenant, Jacob Dylan Anglefin, were reading navigation charts. John climbed aboard. "What in the name of George the First are you doing, Mcroberts?" asked John. Robert, barely looking up, replied, "Making sure your not sent to Davy Jones, my king." Jacob then grabbed his telescope and put it on a brass tripod. A sexton hung from a hook next to the telescope. "Go below," Jacob said, "we'll leave soon."

Jacob was right. Within ten minutes, they were sailing down the Thames, escorted by the HMS Empire and the HMS Mercenary. They trio made their way down the English Channel, and took to the high seas. It took them a few days to finally reach the Mediterranean. Then, disaster struck, in the form of voodoo.

Chapter 2: Sidetracked

A freak storm glistened on the horizon. What was this? And what was even stranger: green lightning. The clouds were tinted purple. Jacob, who was at the wheel, called for the sails to be raised, in order to slow the boat. The crewmembers did as they were told. So, they sat in the temperous sea, awaiting a deadly storm. Then, at impossible speeds, the storm took towards them. Robert ran to the top deck, and held up a maroon flag. The Empire and the Mercenary both went south, towards North Africa. John understood they meant to port at Gibraltar first. Then, all hell broke loose. Lightning struck the mast of the Imperial. A whirpool started at the eye of the storm, and the three ships began to be pulled in. John looked up, and saw a glowing purple orb, sitting at the center of the storm. What was strangest, is that not a cloud touched it. Just when the ships seemed ready to be sucked into the Abyss, a savior came. Out of the depths of the whirlpool, came a grimy figure. It was Slappy, son of the Angler Lord! He rose his sword, and a bolt of enery, shaped like a trident, struck the orb. The storm shattered, sending everything away in a shock wave. The three ships tumbled towards North Africa, and John fell unconcious.

John woke up in a large room. Jacob was over him, tending to John's wounds. In the corner of the room, a three foot wide fountain of water sat. Then, a figure shot out of it. It appeared the fountain was deeper than imagined. Slappy walked towards John, in his true form. Slowly, he morphed into human form. He sat in a wooden chair, and smiled at John. "What... did you do?" John asked. Slappy replied, "Oh, just saved your life and your ships from being swallowed into the Abyss, and then saved them from beaching into the surf of North Africa. Nothing much." John smiled, and thanked Slappy. "Oh yeah," Slappy said, "here you go." He handed John a scroll, then morphed into his true form, and jumped into the pool of water. After it swallowed him, it closed, and a sand dollar lay in it's place. John picked it up, and the crest of Atlantis became visible on one side, a trident on the other. John unrolled the scroll, and inside was an identical copy of the sand dollar, except printed. It was so accurate, it looked as if the sand dollar was made after the painting. That didn't reassure John.

The door to the room opened, and Jack stepped in. "Father," he said, "we're in a fort called Fort Desert Storm. The ship... well... we won't be traveling soon." John stood up. He walked outside, and found himself in a small camp, enclosed by stone walls. An unfamiliar African soldier aproached John. "My leige, your ship is in drydock in Oran, along with the escort ships." He had to have understood John's dumbfounded look, because he frowned. "Oh, m'lord, I apologize. I'm Paapa, sergeant of the British Royal Navy." John replied, taking in the fort, "Greetings, Sergeant Paapa." Paapa explained this was an EITC operation that the Navy had started, and he was overseeing local forces. "Before we go into town, I must warn you, it is a pirate stronghold. Dress towards their kind." So, five minutes later, John walked out of his tent. He wore a turban, a tunic, a long robe-like covering, and several silky garments. They were all purple, and had several golden anchors mongramed into them. Paapa and Jack weren't dressed much better.

They left the fort, walked a long, thirty minute path through the desert, and came into the town of Oran. They traveled to dry dock, and what John saw horrified him. His magnificent ship was now timbers and kindling. It was held together by temporary boards and iron bars. A mast was missing. The left side of the boat was gouged. The wood-and-stone carving of the Virgin Mary on the front was the only thing undamaged. John looked down to the next two docks, and saw equally as damaged ships. "We're trapped in a pirate sanctuary," John said. Then, a hand shot out of the water. It grasped the air, then, went below. Slowly, a figure rose from the water. He had a long, crustacean-like face. "Dr. Skull, I presume?" asked Jack. He gave Jack a disfigured smile. Maybe it was a growl. John couldn't tell. "Why, how kind of you to notice," Dr. Skull replied. His voice sounded like carraige wheels over loose gravel. Then, a scream echoed from behind them. John swung around, and saw a middle-aged man in a turban, with a scimitar at his side. "Monster!" the pirate screamed. Dr. Skull snapped his fingers. a bucket of water fell from a nearby rooftop, and washed over the pirate. It totally encased the pirate in a cocoon of water tendrils. Where it pulled away and melted into the sand, a Lophian soldier stood. It's scimitar was now grimy, like it had spent years in the ocean. He walked forward, into the water, and disappeared. "Let's talk somewhere more... private," Dr. Skull suggested.

They found an abandoned fishing hut along the port. "Inside, before the pirates find us," whispered Paapa. He closed the door behind him, grabbed a nearby crate, and stacked it against the door. He then drew his dagger and took watch. "Excuse me, Mr. Skull, or whatever your name is, but can you change into human form?" Dr. Skull growled, "It's Dr. Skull, thank you. And, I prefer to be in a stronger form when in private." Dr. Skull then turned to John. "Do you have that scroll with you?" Dr. Skull asked. John reached into his robe and extracted the gift from Slappy. He unrolled it, and placed it on a table. "Now, the gift," Dr. Skull asked. John had a strange feeling it was the sand dollar. He handed Dr. Skull the sand dollar, curious. Dr. Skull placed it equal with the drawing. He then flexed his fingers, and a staff made of driftwood grew into his hands. The head of the staff was the head of an Anglerfish. He held the staff high, and brought it down on the sand dollar. The head made contact with the sand dollar, and a blast of sea water exploded. Everything was soaked, including John, Jack, and Paapa. The only thing dry was the map. Wait, map? The scroll was now replaced with a large map. Dr. Skull smiled, picked up the map, and handed it to John. He grasped it, and the map shrank back to the sand dollar. "The seafarer's guide," Dr. Skull began, "is a gift only the sons of the Angler Lord can grant. Slappy did not have the energy to activate it so far inland. It is a map that will grant you guidance through any port, ocean, or lake. Use it well." Dr. Skull winked, which looked odd, seeing as his head was diagonal. He then swept his hand and dried everyone off, though they stunk of thousand-year-old barnacles. Then, Dr. Skull turned to sand, and fell to the floor. Out of the sand crawled a small, white crab. Jack picked up the crab, walked outside the hut, and laid him in the surf.

Chapter 3: Finding a Route

As they were leaving the hut, a yell echoed across the port. Gunshots came from everywhere. "Curse Wolfe, and his feudal raids!" screamed Paapa. They ran for their life. They made it to the edge of town, when Paapa stopped. "Gather your men, your Highness. Go southeast, into the desert. I will arrange transport about, but I must stay here for now. Stay at the southern outpost until your transport comes." Paapa ran off into the battle. John and Jack ran back to the fort. They met Robert and Matthew, who had already packed everything onto camels. In all, they had seven camels. They all mounted. Admiral Sharktooth had apparently survived, and would be traveling with them. The rest of the soldiers were staying behind. The seventh camel was mounted by John's old friend Simon Treasurehawk. "Simon, how did you get here?" John asked. Simon smiled. "Well, I was visiting Melilla, and heard tale of your ship crashing. I just arrived." So, they set out.

It took them half an hour, but finally, they were a kilometer south of Oran. They reached two small huts, a wooden tower, and several traders. A sign above the larger hut read: Southern Outpost. They stopped there, and waited for several hours. Finally, over the horizon, a Navy soldier on horseback appeared. He approached John and said, "Oran is in turmoil. We are moving your ships to Gibraltar, but it will take time. Head northeast, and travel until you find Algiers." Robert shuddered. "Algiers," he said, "bad place. I was imprisoned there for a time. I guess we're safe, as long as they keep the treaty." The soldier nodded. "So, once you reach Algiers, there will be a navy transport waiting to bring you to Venice." "Thank you," John said. "Did Sergeant Paapa send you?" The soldier's face turned solemn. "No," he said, "General Wolfe did. Paapa is dead."

They traveled for several days, until finally reaching the city. As they rode through the town, the people stared in awe. John kept his head low, as the "surlier" groups emerged from the alleyways. They rode to the port, where they met a Navy soldier. "My lord, you boat is ready when you are," he said. They dismounted, took their items, and climbed aboard. Not as classy as the Imperial, John thought, but it will do.

When they finally spotted the Italian Peninsula, a blow of relief crossed the ship. They took their time, and finally made it to Venice. As they approached the city, deeply carved with canals, they stopped. John walked on deck to find Robert arguing with the captain of the transport. "We'll run aground, you imbecile!" screamed Robert. The captain retorted, "My ship! I call the shots! We're docking!" John walked between them. "Stop it both of you. Captain, we'll send a landing party. The bulk of the guards stay aboard," John said, happy to find an agreement.

So, within ten minutes, they were docking their dinghies in Venice. Admiral Sharktooth stayed aboard. As they climbed off their dinghies, a group of men ran forward. No, not just men. East India Trading Company members. Leading, was Samuel Redbeard. "My king!" Samuel yelled with delight. "You made it! I thought you were trapped in Oran!" John replied, "No, we got out. Barely." Then, another man stepped forward. "To business, m'lord?" asked Usman. John nodded. Usman led them all through the maze of Venice. Finally, they found a boarded-up theater. Gunshots and explosions rang from inside. "Um, is it safe to go in there?" asked Matthew. Usman nodded grimly. He tapped a brick, which fell into the building. Between the space of the theater, and the walkway, was a small niche. Usman grasped it, and pulled. The entire section of wall opened like a door. "Right this way," he said. They climbed through, and edgar closed the door behind them. He slid the brick back into place. "Weclome," Usman said, "to Il Treatro de Michelangelo!"

Chapter 4: An Entrance to the "Underworld"

The group walked through narrow, medieval passages. Finally, they found a thin wooden door. Guarding the door, was a man masked in the shadows. "Password," said the man in a raspy voice. Samuel stepped forward. "Sotto mondiale," he said. The man masked in shadows stepped forward, and John had to suppress a gasp. It was Johnny Cothern. He had a disgusting scar running from his forhead, across his eye, and down to his chin. It was red and gruesome, as though it had been cut using a jagged rock. Cothern opened the door, and waved his hand to let them through. "Thank you, Scarface," Samuel said. Cothern gave John a gruesome smile as he passed. "Well, well, your Highness. Been a long time, hasn't it?" Cothern asked. "Y...yes it has, Johnny," John managed. Cothern gave a short, cold laugh and said, "My nickname's Scarface now. Just call me that, okay?" Cothern, or Scarface, asked.

The room they entered was sloped inward. It was a half-circle, with no roof. There was an overhang for the rows of wooden benches making a half-circle around the stage. But what was on the stage was stunning. There, on the stage, was Chris Swordbones and Ryan Blademonk. They were talking intently, and kept glancing at the wall behind the stage. Then, they stopped, and walked off the stage, into the area between it and the seats. Several EITC members grabbed barrels, and hoisted them up in front of the wall, then climbed off stage. "Fire!" yelled Swordbones' voice. The bulk of Skull's Marines, in the area where Chris and Ryan sat, fired at the barrels. A huge explosion shook the theater. When the dust cleared, the wall was scorched, but not totally. There was a vertical rectangle, trimmed with gold, that was unscorched. The gold faded. Then, the wall slowly began to heal. Ryan cursed. "Hey, Hermit!" cried Usman. Chris spun around, grinned, and ran up the stairs. "Rob, John!" he yelled with delight, "good to see you!" Robert smiled, "Good to see you too, my friend. Say, Jacob, go aid the Marines, would you?" Jacob saluted Rob, then Chris, and said, "Sir!" then walked way. "Jack, why don't you go with him?" John requested. Jack muttered, "Always get to do the important stuff, don't I?" and followed Jacob.

"So, blowing up walls is a habit of yours?" Matthew asked. Chris looked back and glared at the wall. "Not exactly," he replied, "but it would seem so." Matthew took a little step back. Ryan then yelled from the platform, "Scarface, two more barrels!" Scarface left the room. "So, what's this about?" John asked. Just then, a door slammed, and the sound a nimble feet padded behind John. John spun around to see the young, 17 year old Soar running towards him. "John!" he screamed. He gave John a fierce hug. "I was so worried you'd be stuck in Oran!" he screamed. John, who was a half-foot taller, padded his head and said, "Well, we made it. What's wrong, Soar?" Soar looked up at John, tearful. "It's my brother. About a week before you got my message, Shadow got reports of strange lights and sounds coming from the theater. He and a few men went to investigate, and I haven't heard from him since!" Soar said with agony. Chris then looked at Soar with pity and said calmly, "Soar, we still have a chance, we did get it open once. We'll get it open again." Soar looked up hopefully, then muttered something about checking on scouts, and scrambled off. "Opened before?" Robert asked. Suddenly, Hermit, Usman, and Samuel looked down, grief-stricken. "Skull... he offered. The door was only open for a moment..." Chris muttered. Then, John, Robert, and Matthew heard a soft crying. They looked into the right corner of the seats, and spotted Cherie, from Skull's Marines. Her face was buried in her hands. Chris waved his hand, symboling for John and Matthew to follow. Rob held up his hands, and said, "I'll help with the troops. Hey, you! Yeah, you, grunt! Get over here..." John and Chris gave each other a smile, and a silent joke passed between them.

"Hey, Cherie," Hermit said, "The Navy is here. They're gonna get Skull out." Cherie looked at John, tearfully, and said, "You will, won't you?" Her voice cracked, as though she hadn't talked in a while. John replied, "Definitely. and to whoever did this... I'll have his head brought back on a silver platter." Cherie tried to say something, but started to cry again. John looked up, just in time to see the door open.

BAM! An explosion shook the room. The wall was now smashed open. The doorway that was sealed earlier had now opened. "Now!" Ryan screamed. Samuel thrust out his hand, and an eletric blue bar spanned vertically, keeping the door from closing. John saw he was struggling, and cast his own: a maroon bar, which circled around the blue one and strengthened it. Then, the doorway stopped trembling, and stood open. Soar burst out of a doorway and screamed, "Get ready!" He was in his full gear. "Wait, where's our stuff!?!" Matthew complained. Suddenly, it appeared upon them: They all wore their combat outfits. Samuel winked at John, and grinned. "Here it is," said Usman with delight, "an entrance to the underworld of Venice." Then the doorway began to flex. Ryan and Jack jumped onto the stage, and held it open. "GET IN IT, YOU MINDLESS IMBECILES!" screamed Ryan. So, John, Matthew, Hermit, Robert, Samuel, Edgar, Soar, Jack, Ryan, and Simon ran towards the door. Together, they all plunged into the underworld of Venice, with Ryan and Jack following.

Chapter 5: History is Bitter-Sweet

They walked down the dark stone path for what seemed like hours. It was dark, damp, and cold. Finally, they came to a fork in the tunnel. One path was completely collapsed, and a little too much moisture was coming from the cracks. "Maybe if we move those-" Usman suggested, but Simon cut him off and said, "No! Look at the cracks! There's a canal crossing it. Open it, and we'll get more then a little wet." Robert motioned to the other path and said, "That fog isn't promising. Think that's better?" Samuel stepped forward, into the mist. Tendrils began clasping to him, and pulling him forward. "Samuel!" Hermit yelled. Samuel looked confused, and replied, "They're not forceful. They're barely pulling me." Usman walked forward, scratching his head, and the tendrils grabbed him too. He backed up, and they loosened. "Strange," he said. Suddenly, the tunnel began to shake. The blocked off part began to let water through. In about ten seconds, they were knee deep. "This isn't good," yelled Simon. Then, the boulders gave way, and the water came like a typhoon. "AH!!!!" they all screamed. Jack, and Matthew ran back the way they'd came. "No!" screamed John. Then, the rest of them plunged into the dark corridor, now at their waists. They ran for what felt like miles, until they reached a door. It was locked. Simon and Hermit charged forward, and slammed it open. Everyone jumped in, then they closed it.

"We should make camp," Edgar said. The room was pitch black. Hermit's voice called out, "Can we see where we're setting up, first?" A burst of fiery blue light lit up the center of the room. "Samuel..." John called out. Samuel retorted, "It wasn't me. Plus, I'm wet, you think I really could light a fire?" John looked around the room. It was circular, about as big as the grand foyer in Buckingham Court Palace. The cieling was domed. Marble pillars and arches held up the ceiling, creating a forest of stone. Along walls were mosiacs of Roman gods and myths. "I don't think this is your average underground cave," Usman muttered. "Huad, is est, non," said a new voice. It sounded like knives against rock. "Who said that!?" yelled Blademonk. The voice replied, "Is eram ego Xenophilius, vestri vinco, quod vestri pessum ire." Samuel then called back, "Licentia nos Xenophilius, vel nos mos pugna vos!" The light flickered. In front on them stood a man, masked in robes. Just the tip of his chin ws visible. No, not a chin, a mask. He walked forward, until he was five feet away. "What are you?" Simon asked. It's hand rose up, and a purplish light began to glow around it - the same that was in the center of the storm that crashed the Imperial. Then, a gunshot echoed out. John spun around, and Robert held a smoking gun, aimed at the man. John spun to face the man, who had fallen to the floor. They all ran up to the body, but when Usman inspected it, it was just robes.

"He had a mask," Ryan said. Soar glared at Ryan. It had been an hour since their encounter with the Latin-speaking man. Soar spat, "Of course he had mask, tu idiota!" They had set up camp in the large room. The blue fire had stayed lit, so they could see the room fully. In the center was a pool, with a fountain in it. Hovering above the fountain was a ball of blue fire, their light. Samuel had magically erected a few tents they would be staying in. "Look at the bright side," said Usman, "he's history." John looked at Usman, and said, "If he's history, it would feel sweet. I'm afraid we've not seen the last of that bitter man."

Chapter 6: The Maze

The group awoke about four hours later, gathered their things, and left the room. A small bandana had fallen from Simon's pocket as they left through a door. Simon spun around to get it from the room, but when he opened the door, a wall of stone stared back. Simon closed the door, and called, "Um, we won't be going in there for a while." They all looked back and rolled their eyes, then continued on.

The tunnels were not always stable. However, several times, they were able to here the voice above them, and wondered what if the tunnels collapsed? They continued for several days in the maze. They found hundreds of skeletons everywhere. They were spending their fourth night in the maze, when someone went missing.

The group awoke to a scream, and searched everywhere. Ryan was nowhere to be found. Samuel finally called out, "Blimey, look at this!" They ran over and saw Samuel standing over a bloody dagger, and torn EITC wear. It was clear that there had been bloodshed. "Let's just... keep moving." John led them on for several days in the maze, until they got another clue as to where they were searching.

Soar was holding the lantern that night. As he was walking, he stumbled. John caught him, but not before the lantern shattered. "Oh mio Dio, Sono cosØ spaciente!" cried Soar. John calmed him down, then looked for where the item that Soar tripped on was. Finallly, Hermit and Simon called out, "Trapdoor! Right here!" Everyone rushed over. They decided to stay above the door, and sent someone down the passage to see what they could find. Hermit volunteered.

It was twenty minutes before Hermit returned, and he was sprinting when he did. "IN THE TRAPDOOR!" he screamed. Simon heaved the door open, and shoved Soar in first. John looked behind Chris, and saw what he was running from. A humungous snake-like creature was slithering down the passage at unimaginable speeds. It took up the whole passage, and bricks were falling in around it. Samuel stared in awe, then whispered, "Drakon." John grabbed Hermit and jumped back into the trapdoor. From what John could see, Simon pulled a grenade from his bag, and Samuel drew his wand. Usman then jumped in from nowhere, pulling the supplies down with him. There were several loud bangs, and Simon dropped down.

"Where's Samuel!?" he cried. They looked up at the slithering belly of the drakon. Simon grabbed the door and slammed it closed. They looked around in the room they were in. It was a torture chamber. Soar closed his eyes, while Robert drew his sword, and chopped a path through the disgusting things in front of them, until they reached a doorway. It led down a dark, narrow staircase. "I'm the one who dirtied my blade," said Robert, "I'm not going first again." "Nor I," spat out Hermit. Simon was clearly upset he couldn't grab Samuel, so he offered to go first down the winding staircase.

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The Chronicles of John Breasly are fiction stories written by King John Breasly II of England. If anyone wishes to become a character, please send John a message, or comment below! Thank you!

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