Las Vegas Lion.

"Why is it always showtime around here?"

Since his act of jumping on the table and spoiling Arrakis' performance at the inn, Ice was viewed as a nut. People glared at him or scampered away. Ice thought Crystal was decidedly mad, she still liked to wear the short black chaperon and pirate's underclothes. The other women weren't much better. And Shadow was still a frozen black statue with little black eyes like apple pips.

Ice thawed him out a few days after his jumping-on-the-table act, but Shadow promptly jumped into the river when he saw Crystal walking around in a bikini! Straight in front of Pete, who was still fishing. When Ice jumped into the river after him, Pete merely remarked, "Is there giant wolf bait in the river, buddy?"
Ice popped his head out and sputtered, "My wolf! He keeps jumping into the river when he sees any woman wearing next to no clothes. Shadow Storm!"
"Weird, I'd check out the ladies if I had been him."
"He's -blub- not that -blub- sort of wolf," Ice bubbled and dived under. He managed to catch Shadow, who had successfully drowned himself. The blue Dire climbed out with the limp, dark companion floating behind him in the air.

Ice was walking around in Battleon, thinking hard about how to convince everyone that swimsuits were bad armor, when he ran across a shortie with bulky orange armor that seemed to sparkle. "Hi!" Ice barked.
The orange shortie looked at him. 'Yes?" the shortie asked. It was a woman! But the armor looked like Thok's armor repainted bright orange.
Ice was shocked, this shortie was Arrakis, the showgirl on the day he jumped on the table. What happened to her? Her eyes had gone puffy while her crew cut purple hair looked out of place with her thin face. The ice Dire howled and ran away. "If that's a long time showgirl offstage, Crystal's going to look awful!" thought he.

He didn't see where he was running to, he just wanted to find the Lion and tell her about what happened to Arra. Ice ran painfully into a wooden door. "OW!" he howled. He sat down, rubbing his head, and looked at the sign. "Pet shop," he read it. "I'd better check if Aria's head is screwy like nearly everyone else on Lore."

Ice opened the shop door a tiny crack, and peeked in. Aria wasn't at her counter. He opened the door a little wider and put his head in. "Hello! Fancy a fuzzy companion?" an orange-haired woman wearing a plain apron, a shirt, and a green skirt asked him. Ice saw the skirt wasn't salacious, much to his relief. It was a simple pencil skirt.
"Actually, I wanted to ask you, how come you have the tamest costume in Lore when nearly all the other women look like showgirls?"
"No idea, but I never really wanted in on the gogo life. Animals need me to take care of them. What was the howling about?"
"Just me," Ice admitted. "I didn't see where I was going."
"It must be hard to be a giant, Ice."

Ice asked in a quiet voice, "Do you know why every lass must wear swimsuits except you and Valencia?"
"Erm, no, sorry. But I think whatever made my hair orange instead of red has forced Crystal to dress in Vegas clothes," replied Aria as she twiddled with her formerly red ponytail.

"Miss blacksmith, do you know how to make the others wear clothes that don't look like a go-go dancer?" Ice asked the brown-haired girl wearing heavy trousers, an apron and a brown t-shirt.
"I know how to make no-go-go clothes," the blacksmith said in a gurgly accent and pointed to a pile of cloth on the floor. "My not go-go clothes are very, very special," she continued. "Only two of them in existence. I cannot make more because a law was passed saying tailors and blacksmiths must either quit work or stop making no-go-go clothes."
"Are the pizza girl's clothes your creation?" asked Ice.
The blacksmith smiled, "Yes, she is the only person besides me to wear long trousers of my creation."
"Thanks anyway, miss," Ice walked out of the helmet shop and towards the pizza hut.

"Good afternoon, miss pizza!" Ice greeted the pizza girl loitering outside the shop. She was wearing heavy long pants, a pink tee-shirt and her hair was cut in a Cinderella style. A pizza was balanced precariously on her head. "Do you know why every lass except you and the blacksmith walks around in a swimsuit?" Ice barked at her, striding up to the short woman.
"If I were you, I'd talk to the elder in Willow Creek. He seems to have a better idea of why your friend is walking around in leotards," the pizza girl stuttered in reply to Ice's question.
"Oh well," Ice turned on his heel and walked off.
The pizza girl stared at him in confusion. "He's a tad crazy, that one. Why doesn't he check out the leotard ladies?" she asked herself.

As soon as Ice reached Swordhaven's gates, he broke into a quick run. With his long skinny legs, he arrived in Willow Creek in about fifteen minutes. He passed by the farmers' houses and made for the church. When the giant arrived at the wooden doors, he realised that he was as tall as the doors. He stooped and pushed the doors open slowly.

An old man with a long orange braid was standing near the doors. "Good afternoon, son. What brings you here to the church?"
"I need to think, father," muttered Ice as he made of the altar. He knelt down and started whispering, "Why did you gods force my friend to go walking around in nothing more than a swimsuit? Are you all insane?

"Where are your brains? Even if she's not wearing a swimsuit, she must bare her thighs, every single hour of the day, even though she's very embarrassed," Ice forgot about the old man and started shouting at the top of his voice. The elder jumped up and moved cautiously towards him. He put a hand on Ice and the giant turned around. "What is it?"

"You said your friend's forced to wear nothing but clothes which show off her thighs?" asked the elder.
"Yes, and I was told to look for the church elder of Willow Creek, he would have a good idea why."
"Son, I am the church elder. My name's Calafalas."
Ice stood up and bowed towards Calafalas. "Father, do you know why my friend and all the other young women of Lore must wear swimsuits?"
"You see, son, there is a spell on our world," sighed the elder.
"What sort of spell?"
"It makes almost everyone complacent, and compels all the women to wear clothes that are better suited for dances of sin, the spell also makes everyone think dressing like harlots is normal, and forbids anyone from attempting to make modest clothes for those poor misled folk," the elder explained to Ice.
"You don't seem affected. How? Why am I not affected by this spell?" the giant asked.
"I can tell that you're from a place where everyone must be modest, just like me. It was cast long ago, son. Anyone who spent their childhood in modesty will not be affected by this spell as badly as other folk."
"Do you know how to break it?"

"Son, I know of no way to break the showtime spell. But if you were to fight your way through the Inquistion at the citadel in the mountains, I'm sure you'll find a cure among the scrolls they have locked away. Seek out Murray the mage, he can tell you what to do next." the church elder said solemnly.
Ice bowed slightly. "Thanks, father," he said and left the church. He still couldn't tell if the elder was really a woman.

It was a really long trek from Willow Creek to the mountains, even for Ice's stick legs. "It's a good thing I'm an ice werewolf, at least I can stand the cold. Perhaps I can just run up the mountains in a shirt and trousers instead of my mage uniform. I feel sorry for Crystal though, she hasn't got fur and must wear a swimsuit or bare her legs even when it's much too cold to do so," thought Ice as he climbed up the mountain. "What's in the name of miss Lion? Not much, I guess. Just because she's named Lion doesn't mean she's the animal in a girl's form. And lions without fur on a mountain equals frozen furless lions in swimsuits."

Stop the Showspell, quick, to the Inquisition!

The old mage looked up at him through watery blue eyes and coughed, "You're the giant who helped me some time ago with a black-haired chit and a pink one, right? What happened to them?"
"Nothing!" Ice answered rather tersely. He started glaring at Murray before he checked himself. "Do you have any idea why Lore's ladies must needs dress in almost nothing?" he asked.
"Nay, Ice. I don't have any idea, besides the theory that a huge spell was cast over Lore. If you want to explore other realms to find your answer, I think the grand inquistor has a teleportation spell somewhere among all the other spells he stole."
"What does a teleportation spell look like?" Ice asked.
Murray coughed, "It's a light bluish sort of spell in the shape of a scroll with glowing dots on it. You must pick it up, hold it in your hand and use it. You can go to other planets with this spell. Why do you want it anyway?"
"I just thought I'd go to other realms and see if the women of other worlds still have free will in clothes."

"I see," Murray said.
"So, how do I get in?" Ice asked.
Murray muttered, "You must lie and say you're not a mage. For goodness' sake, don't use your giant power, the inquisitors tend to mistake inborn abilities for magic."
Ice gulped. "Right. I'll be careful in there," he said.
"Good luck, boy," the old man coughed. Ice walked slowly to the citadel, feeling apprehensive.

A young crusader jumped out at him. "Halt, mage!" he shouted.
Ice kicked him in the stomach and dodged the shorter man's strikes quite easily. Then the giant felt a sharp pain in his rear. He howled, picked up the crusader that had poked his butt and flung him down. The shorter fellow got knocked out and the first crusader ran away.

"Okay, he's rather tall for a human. I need a disguise too. Guess I'll borrow his clothes for a while," Ice thought to himself when he pulled off the breastplate, tabard and hood from the knocked out crusader. He put them on rather hapazhardly. The tabard looked more like a tiny shirt on him. Ice took off his own blue shirt, but kept his pants on as they were a plain brown pair. The blue shirt was stuffed down the metal armor. When he was done, Ice created a piece of ice for a mirror and looked in it. He adjusted his hood so that his light blue eyes were covered and pushed his fringe back. He left the ice mirror standing on the footpath since it would melt after a while.

No one else bothered the young giant as he made his way past burning stakes and ruined columns. He finally reached a grand archway. Two guards were stationed there and looked warily at him.
"Your business?" the one on the left inquired.
"I wish to enter," Ice replied.
The one on the right muttered, "You'd have to join our order first. What are your thoughts on magic?"

"I hate mages!" Ice barked. The second guard nodded slowly and pointed his spear silently.
He said, "You know, if you wish to join the order, you have to wait until the grand inquisitor finishes his summoning. He's having trouble right now."
Ice took a few steps and the inquisitor called out to him, "By the way, watch out for the grand inquisitor's son, GK. He doesn't take kindly to titans!"
"I'll keep that in mind!" Ice called back.

"So you wish to join my order?" the grand inquisitor asked, not looking carefully at Ice.
Ice lied, "Yes." and stealthily moved towards the pile of scrolls in a corner.
"If I were you, I wouldn't touch those spells. They're for destruction," the grand inquisitor remarked, still working on his summoning. "Including teleportation spells," he added.

Ice waited until he was absorbed in his summoning, then quickly shifted the pile of spells until he found the one that was described by Murray.

Just then, a voice yelled, "Sir! That tall man knocked one of our men down and fought me tooth and nail!"
"What!?" the grand inquisitor shouted. "But he said he wanted to join our order!"
"He's a mage! We have to exterminate him."

The grand inquisitor shouted, "Get him then! He's a big liar!"
Ice grabbed the scroll and ran away on his long legs. He fled past a crusader clad in gold armor, who tried to stab him and missed. He heard loud footsteps behind him and angry voices calling for him to stop.

"Surrender, big boy!" the crusader snarled.
"I won't!" Ice barked. The inquisitors crowded around him.
"Now what?" asked one of the lower-ranked inquisitors.
"Corner him," the crusader whispered.
Ice took a step back, and another step. His foot slipped on some loose rocks. The inquisitors stood back.

The giant's heart almost stopped before he fell off the cliff. "After him!" shouted the crusader.
"We can't, sir! It's all downhill from here," replied the captain.
"Imbecile! He's a filthy mage, he can surely save himself. The fall must be a ploy to trick you all!" the crusader bawled at him.

In the meantime, Ice bounced all the way down the cliff. "Oof!" he barked. He crashed through a pine tree growing on the cliff and continued rolling. His pants were full of pine needles and they pricked him. Ice tried to scratch himself while rolling down the hill. He came to an abrupt halt as he managed to pull out some of the pine needles.

Ice took out the scroll and read it quickly, his belt almost snapping from holding him up to the branch. He read the directions and thought, "Right, say the place and year you want to go to? Simple enough. Where did Shadow say I ought to go? What world didn't force its women to dress in swimsuits?"
The branch couldn't hold his weight for long. He had to think quickly. "Wait! Terra! Terra! I've got it! Terra's the only place where swimsuits aren't compulsory," Ice wuffed. He saw that his belt was going to snap, so he nearly panicked.

"1846! 1846!" Ice yelled just as his belt snapped. He fell straight down into a blue glowing portal that seemed to be a pool of water. He let go of the scroll when he hit the cold water, sputtered, and dived below the surface.

The pool continued shimmering for while, then seemed to dry up. The inquisitors looked at each other. "He's a goner, for sure. That spell can take someone to another world," one of them said regretfully. "He won't be able to come back."
"You sure about that, GK?" his companion asked him.
"Yeah, he's done for."

On the Role of Wolves.

Ice was falling. The portal felt like the icy weather back where he used to live before he set foot in Battleon. The icy cold surroundings lulled him into thoughts of simpler times as a pup...

"Mom, why are there giant werewolves on Lore?" a young Ice asked his mother as he was tucked into bed. A strong wind was blowing outside their den. His dad was near the entrance, keeping guard over his family pack.
Ice's mom wuffed softly, "We were placed here as ambassadors of the elemental lords, Ice. Dire werewolves were one of the few species trusted to relay the elements to all corners of the lands. Also, we had to ensure that Lore's cultural identity of true free will never be overruled by a cultural dictatorship."
"Mom, I'm not sure I understand," Ice said and pulled up the blanket over his nose.
His mother whistled, "When you are older, you'll understand what is a cultural dictatorship as well as why it's so important we defend the cultural identity of Lore no matter what. Good night, my son."

Ice looked at his mother, then at his cousin Breezy, who had kicked off her blankets in her sleep. He leant back and closed his eyes, listening to the howling wind.

After what felt like ages, Ice opened his eyes. For a moment, he thought he was a dire pup in the tundra again, but a look at himself proved otherwise. "Now I remember why I'm crusading against showgirl uniforms," he mused. The giant stood up and looked around. "I'm not on Lore anymore!" he barked in fright, but calmed down when he remembered the spell. "I teleported myself away."

Ice noticed that the road under his feet was paved with stones, something not done on Lore. Also, the buildings were made of stone, despite being small. It was snowing and everything was covered in white. The titan headed towards a building which had a few mannequins on display. When he got nearer, he looked at the dummies. A cardboard sign proudly proclaimed, "Winter wear! 20% off!"

The dummies were properly dressed for winter, in thick coats and pants. A few of the dummies wore long full skirts, short capes and bonnets. "So this is Terra, where burlesque does not reign supreme," Ice said in awe. He saw a rack of clothes and wondered, "Are all the clothes proper?"
He shot out a telekinetic hand through the window and moved some of the clothes. It seemed that almost all the clothes fully covered the body, and there were no showgirl swimsuits to be seen. Just then, someone screamed, "The clothes are moving by themselves!"
Ice immediately stopped moving the clothes when he saw a very pale sales woman pointing a trembling finger at the rack.

An elderly looking woman with very long black hair entered the shop and said something to the saleswoman. The latter seemed to calm down and the elderly woman left the shop. Ice noticed that the old woman had purple ears sticking up from her head. Her extremely long black hair was rather wavy and there was a bun on top of her head between the ears. "Ahoy there," said the old woman.
"Erm, hello, madam?" replied Ice.
"Scared the sales lady stiff, didn't ye?" the elderly woman smirked. She flicked her head from side to side. "What's your name?"
"I'm Ice," was his answer.
"My name is Purpure, but you can call me Pur if you like," the woman held out her hand. "I'm actually not as old as I appear, master Ice."

"So, how old are you?" Ice inquired. "Not to be rude, but I thought you were forty."
"I'm twenty one. People seem to think I look twice as old as I really am, even though I'm a catgirl," Pur laughed bitterly at the last sentence.
"Why so?" Ice was curious. He had never seen a catgirl who looked twice her age before. Terra was full of its oddities after all.
"God knows why I'm like this," Pur sighed. "What brings you here? I thought giants only existed on Lore?" she questioned him.
"I teleported myself here with a spell. Wait, how do you know about Lore?"
Pur flicked her head. "My ancestors were from that world and my step uncle used to tell me stories of a legendary Crystal Lion. How's she, by the way?"
Ice sighed, "She's a showgirl, Pur. I have no idea what happened to Lore."
"Showgirl!? Lore's in the middle ages. Burlesque didn't appear until my time!"
Ice groaned, "All my friends seem to have lost their heads. They think wearing swimsuits to battle is compulsory for women and the latter must become showgirls! I recall that Crystal didn't have any interest in wearing swimsuits until recently."

"Tell me the name of the most populated city in Lore and its neighbouring city," Pur ordered.
"Battleon, Swordhaven is its neighbour," said Ice.
"Some disaster must have happened," thought Pur. "Lore didn't have a city called Swordhaven in it. Granaemor* was Battleon's neighbouring city."
The half-catgirl then asked, "Where's Cap'n Rhubarb?"
"Who's that?" Ice answered.
"The pirate captain of Lolosia in your time, have you forgotten?"
"I never heard of anyone named Rhubarb in my entire life. Elissa Keelhaul's the captain of the pirates."
"What of Blackhawke?" Pur asked again. Ice still looked blank. "Aquella?" Pur tried.
"For goodness sake! I don't even know who they are!" Ice replied snappishly and folded his arms.

Pur sighed, "Nevermind. It's not right for a giant to stick around outside, you could be put into jail for not having a house. Come over to my uncle's place. We should be able to better figure out how to get Lore back to normal there."
The half-catgirl slunk off. Ice hesitated. "What are you waiting for, master Ice? Come on!" Pur said impatiently.
"Sorry, miss Pur," Ice replied and followed her.

"If miss Pur has the guts to speak to a giant so boldly, surely she can stand up to all of Lore and convince them to go back to their former identity?" Ice thought to himself as Pur led the way to her uncle's house.

*Pur's ancestors were from the timeline of the original Adventure Quest, not its burlesque parallel world.

In the Lair of Lions.

After a while of walking, Pur turned around a corner into a lane with trees along its sides and stepped aside. Ice stopped and asked, "What's the matter, miss Pur?"
"Behold my uncle's house, master Ice," was Pur's reply. She gestured towards a fine building made of yellow stones with a red roof. There were gargoyles in the shape of wild animals arranged in front of the building, giving it the impression of a wildlife sanctuary.
Ice looked and his eyes widened. "I didn't know your uncle lives in a mansion," he gulped.
Pur snorted, "Lived."
"He's passed away?" Ice asked. Pur didn't reply, so he added, "My condolences."
"He isn't dead, he went to the future to prevent the past from being thoroughly muddled by future ignoramuses," the half-catgirl explained. "Not by himself, of course. He's doing this with a group of other people who I shouldn't name."

"What does this future group do?" wondered Ice. He looked at one of the gargoyles that was shaped like a giant wolf.
"We should go inside and talk. The outdoors have ears," Pur said and walked briskly to the front door. She took out a brass key and stuck it into the keyhole. The door opened after she turned the key. "Guests first, Ice," she remarked and bowed Ice into her uncle's mansion. He crouched to enter the small doorway.

When the two were indoors, Pur took off the heavy jacket she wore earlier and put it on a rack. She lighted a match, put it on some tinder and logs in the fireplace, grabbed a poker and poked the fire alight.
"They help to preserve the events of history as they have already gone. One of the most common meddlings is trying to force medieval women to wear nothing but revealing clothes. The middle ages isn't the right time for burlesque, as you would know, master Ice," Pur talked at length, poking the fire. "Ignoramuses are not only meddling with your time, but also other timelines and perhaps even the future as we speak. Enough! If I stand here talking all day, I won't be able to stop Lore from turning into Rune-Midgard."

"Where's Rune-Midgard and what's so bad about it, miss Pur?" Ice inquired and sat down on a sofa. The sofa was much too small for him, but sturdy enough to hold his weight.
"It's a world that claims it's based on Viking and medieval times, but the costumes smack of the cabaret of my time. In fact, all the skilled archers wear nothing but skimpy underwear and bellydance in battle. The lady knights? Pah! Their uniforms are worse than the hussies of England! The magicians are just as bad, if not worse than the lady knights," Pur grumbled and jabbed the fire viciously.
"Those women are soft in the head," Ice groaned.
Pur looked up. "Not their fault. All the women of Rune-Midgard have been brainwashed into thinking scanty clothes are superior to proper armor," she replied. She noticed that Ice looked very uncomfortable on the sofa he was sitting on. She said, "Sit on the floor, master Ice. I'll get a carpet."
"No, really, ma'am, I'm fine," Ice answered. "I don't want to trouble you," he continued, but Pur had already left the room.

"It's no trouble to me," Pur stated, returning with a soft carpet and some cushions. She put the carpet on the floor, unrolled it, and placed the cushions on top. "Go on, sit down. It's much more comfortable than sitting on that small sofa," Pur laughed. Ice got up from the sofa and moved to the carpet. He sat down, avoiding the cushions. Pur took out a long stick of incense from the jacket she had hung up, lighted it by sticking it in the fire, then began smoking it.

Ice asked, "Just how exactly are you going to stop Lore from turning into a cabaret of your day, miss Pur?"
The half-catgirl took a long puff of her incense. "I can't stop it completely, Ice, but I can make it so that it never becomes as bad as Rune-Midgard. You'll have to live with Crystal being a showgirl, although if I succeed in my counter-spell, she'll regain the sense to wear full armor to battle, not her showgirl clothes."
"I can tolerate Crystal dancing in a cabaret if she had the wits to dress properly for war," Ice growled. "Whoever put Lore under a spell clearly was so dim-witted as to think women must wear underpants and only underpants to battle!" he shouted and slammed his hand on the floor. Pur backed away from the enraged dire werewolf. Ice's body shivered in rage, he looked up after a while. "Is there a way to track the idiot? I want to give him a piece of my mind."

"I don't really have a way to find out who's the culprit, but I can tell if it's the work of one person, or many just by looking at your world with my own eyes," Pur explained. She put out her incense and went upstairs. "I'm dressing for adventure, master Ice. You can read the books if you want."
Ice noticed a large encyclopedia on the side table. He looked at the cover. "Encyclopedia Britannica," he mouthed. Ice took the heavy book and flipped through the pages until he reached the page for burlesque. "A form of entertainment that makes mockeries of well-established works such as Shakespeare? Who on Lore's Shakespeare? Burlesque is characterised by bad puns, revealing uniforms and salacious dialogue? What the heck? Has Lore turned into a worldwide burlesque show?" Ice put his head in his hands, his thin fingers ruffling his straight black hair.

Pur came downstairs to see Ice in an angry fit all over again. He was muttering, "How come I'm not affected after Shadow drowned himself? How come he knows that Lore has turned into a strip show? Why didn't I sense it at the same time as he did?"
The half catgirl said, "I have no answers yet, Ice. It would be better for us to go back to your own time."
Ice looked up at her. She was wearing pure purple trousers, heavy purple boots and an orange shirt. Pur took long steps across the drawing room and grabbed the orange jacket she hung up before. She put on the jacket and buttoned it. "I'm sure, Ice, that this is decent, even if it's not armor."
"It is decent, Miss Pur. But what about a weapon?"
Pur quipped, "I'm so bad at swordfighting that I'd skewer myself long before stabbing others in a fight. My hands are my weapons."
"Oh, I see." Ice stood up and closed the encyclopedia. He put it back without using his hands. Pur observed the book floating to its place on the side table.
"So it's true, the titans are telekinetic," she thought, shaking her head. Her very long hair swayed slightly with her movements.

Pur walked to a door carved with insignia of clocks. She flung it open to reveal a long corridor lined with doors. Ice tailed her and saw that each door had insignia of different times. He saw a door with a sphinx as its doorknob. "Ancient Egypt," Pur said. She moved to a door which had a pair of swords crossed over a shield. The shield had a design Ice recognised instantly. "The guardian dragon!" he exclaimed in surprise.
"This door leads back to your time. Come on!" Pur opened the door and stepped in. Ice followed suit. The tunnel was quite chilly, he recalled bitterly, remembering the spell he filched to arrive in Terra. Pur closed the door after he stepped in, cutting off all return to Terra for him. Now he was going home with a stranger who said she could prevent his world from worsening.

Braving the tide.

The two animals ran through the tunnel. At the end of it, Ice smelled his home world. Pur slowed down to a walk and Ice nearly crashed into her. "Be careful!" Pur exclaimed and dusted herself off. She looked around and sniffed the air. "Smells like cheap cabaret perfume," she said.
Ice groaned, "That's what all the dancers at Yulgar's spray on themselves when dancing during dinners."
"Since when did Yulgar have a cabaret service?"
"I truly have no idea, miss Pur," Ice answered. "One thing's for sure, we're very close to his inn," he continued and began walking slowly. Pur followed him.

They made their way to the inn, where Crystal, Blezzo and Meg were waiting for them. Ice noted that Crystal was now wearing a light gray leotard with enormous dragon-shaped pauldrons. "What is she wearing?" Pur whispered to Ice.
"A so-called warrior's uniform! I thought she had more wits than to bare her legs in battle," Ice grumbled.
Pur sneered in Crystal's earshot, "She'll be legless before long, if she wears nothing but leotards in a war-ridden world."
Crystal frowned but did not reply. She looked at Pur and said, "Aren't you improperly clad yourself?"
"At least I'm not making my body an obvious target!" Pur snapped.
"Please, ladies, calm down," Blezzo mewed and waved his hands. "Besides, Ice's back to enjoy our show," he grinned. Ice growled snappishly at him. "Alright, don't get angry because you missed our show, Ice." the burgundy cat said.

Blezzo gazed at Pur, then meowed loudly when he saw the catgirl's ears sticking up through her very long curls. "You should be a dancer, miss!" he said. "That big heavy jacket is inconvenient," the burgundy cat continued.
"So? What do you think I should wear, then?" Pur asked.
"Dress like Crystal!" Blezzo pointed at the pale lioness.
"Are you crazy!?" Pur almost shouted. "What makes you think I should dress like a cabaret dancer away from the cabaret? What happened to Lore's reputation of dressing modestly!?" she hissed.
Blezzo scowled. "Pur, Lore did not have a reputation for dressing modestly, as you put it."
Pur placed her hands on her waist. "Well, wouldn't you remember a thing or two about your past customs? Or has some entity brainwashed you?" she asked in a mocking tone.
"You're the one who's mistaken," Blezzo meowed. "Please wear this?" he asked and held out a leotard with a lot of holes in it. The leotard had tassels stitched on the bust. Pur shook her head. Ice watched the whole thing with growing dread.

Blezzo hissed, "I'll make you wear it, come hell or high water! Every single woman on Lore must dress like a showgirl!" and leapt on Pur. The taller half-catgirl dodged, then punched him with all her might. She kicked the burgundy cat for good measure. Meg and Crystal were rooted to the spot. Blezzo tried to claw through Pur's clothes, but failed, as the thick cloth couldn't be torn by his claws.

"Miss Pur, run!" Ice thought frantically to the half-catgirl, who started running away. "Everyone's bananas!"

As the two misfits ran away, they passed by a tall sequioa tree. A blue-haired woman with sticks in her hair was waiting under the tree. She was wearing a red leotard with a big hole over the chest, red high boots and a blue scarf about her neck.

"What! That woman in the red swimsuit's a ninja? Ah hahahaha! She must be a rubbish swordswoman then, look at how she holds her katana, and what sort of ninja is idiotic enough to wear a red swimsuit? It's not like she's at the beach."
"Stop it, Pur! She's an assassin."
"A rubbish, dumb assassin then, what sort of assassin wears a swimsuit during her assassination mission?"
"What about you? Your dress isn't exactly assassin's clothes either."
"I have the sense to wear pants and a full shirt when adventuring, at least. Also, my hands are my weapons, not a sword. I think I have told you that."

The burlesque ninja looked very angry when she heard Pur's mocking remarks. Ice gulped, "Ninjas are quick, miss Pur," and pushed her on. Alas, on the way, every single one of the female adventurers the two met were either baring their legs, their chests and basically did not seem to know that bared body parts would only result in grave injuries. Some drunk youths called out to Ice, "Your girlfriend?"
Ice snorted peevishly and didn't deign to reply. "She shouldn't be dressed like that, it's against the rules," one of the drunks slobbered at Pur.
"What rules?" Pur challenged him.
"Oh missy. Everyone worth their salt knows that women must bare their legs, their chests, or both. Those places must never be covered up."
"And why should I do as you ask?" Pur turned up her nose.
"No one knows, but it's the rule of Lore."

After a while, they arrived in the part of the forest where Shadow's carcass lay. Pur stepped up to the corpse and placed a hand on Shadow's thick fur. "How did he die?" she asked.
Ice looked away. "He jumped into the river to drown when he saw Crystal suddenly dressing like a sleazy dancer."
"I'm sorry to hear that," Pur replied. She thought to Ice, "From what I've seen, this is the work of one very powerful hypnotist."
"How can you tell?" Ice thought back.
"Didn't you notice that every single one of the women, regardless of age, wore clothes that bared their bodies in the exact same manner? The men too, were behaving rather oddly, in the same way. Even the boys acted the same way as the men. Whoever hypnotised Lore must have a very one-track mind."
"Are we going back to your time, then, miss Pur?" Ice watched Pur as she opened her pocket watch and pointed it at the ground. A shimmering puddle formed at the place she pointed her watch.
"We'll have to, in order to begin breaking the trance Lore's trapped in. Only Terra has decent clothes despite having cabarets. Even then, women on Terra aren't forced to wear cabaret costumes all the time," Pur finished her thoughts just as she opened another portal. She prodded Ice. "Go in. It's back to my time."
Ice did as she said and fell again. Pur stepped in carefully. After the duo entered the portal, the shining puddle vanished, leaving hardly any trace. The gigantic fuzzy corpse remained still.

*Blezzo's behaving like this (Forcing Pur to wear burlesque) because he's been hypnotized by the spell put on Lore.

Beginning to Break.

Pur and Ice entered the portal. The two walked in silence towards Pur's time, lost in their own thoughts. After a while, they reached Terra and appeared back in the time travel hall. Pur walked out of the hall, saying, "Would you like to rest, master Ice?"
Ice didn't know what to say, so Pur continued, "If you wish, you may use the spare bedroom upstairs."
"Thank you, miss Pur," Ice replied, looking outside. It was already night time in London. Pur nodded and went upstairs.

Ice sat down on the floor and looked outside. Only a few elderly men were taking late evening walks. The giant yawned and stretched himself. He stood up and carefully walked upstairs, fearing that he might ruin the steps with his sheer weight alone. Nothing untoward happened on the stairs, and he made it to the spare bedroom without breaking anything. A bed at the far end of the room had been made for unexpected guests. It was too dark for Ice to see the bed's color, but he could tell that it might not be able to hold his weight for long. So he telekinetically grabbed the blankets from the bed and settled down to sleep on the floor, wrapping the blankets around himself. The giant soon fell asleep listening to the sounds from outside the window.

When Ice woke up, he shook himself and went downstairs. Pur was sitting in an armchair. An elderly man with long black curls and yellow eyes was facing her, sitting in a wooden chair. The man turned his head right to the back when he heard Ice enter the room. "He's part owl," Pur explained.
"If he's an owl, how can he be your uncle?" Ice was bewildered.
"I said that he's my step uncle, not a full uncle!" Pur shouted at him.
The owl piped up, "It won't do to give a bad impression of yourself to a giant, would it, Purpure?"

"Who are you, master-," Ice didn't complete his sentence.
The black haired, yellow eyed man looked at his pocket watch. "You can call me Prince," he said. "What is your name?"
"I'm just Ice, sir."
"A pleasure to meet you. You're one of Lore's giant werewolves, yes?"
"I think it would be pointless to ask how you knew I am from Lore?" Ice asked.
Prince laughed. He said, "Pur told me what she knew about you, and your errand here. You wish to remove a powerful spell placed on Lore that caused all the women to think they're cabaret dancers, right?"
"Miss Pur?" Ice asked quietly. When the half-catgirl faced him, he asked, "Why is your step uncle here?"
"He has a solid idea of what happened to Lore, Ice."
Ice then inquired, "Uh, master Prince, what do you think has happened to Lore, or rather, who's the dimwit who thinks Lore's ladies must not wear full armor to battle?"
The part owl sighed and clasped his hands. "Ice, have you ever heard of hypnotism?"
"Isn't that used for mind control?"

"That's one use for it," Prince nodded. "But what I meant to say is that there's a powerful entity that appears in the form of a person every hundred years. This person is known as the Master Hypnotist. His, or her hypnosis is so powerful that hardly anything can prevent it, and the Master can hypnotise many people at once. I do not doubt that one such entity has wormed its way into Lore and forced nearly everyone to act like they lived in a cabaret," the elderly part owl leant back into his seat.
"Uncle, surely you're not implying that a demigod has taken over Lore?" Pur asked anxiously. Ice looked worried as well. "How are we supposed to break the trance, then?"
"The only way I've heard that is the most effective is to prove that the Master is completely wrong. Which means that one of you must fight a woman wearing burlesque clothes and trounce her nicely, proving that scanty armor is useless. Likewise, Pur, you should wear as much armor as you can and fight in it," Prince replied. He sat up suddenly, his yellow eyes appearing to glow. "But, if Ice does not keep up his efforts to break the Master's trance, Lore will be lost. He must garner support from anyone who is free from the spell and confront the Master when he's ready!"

Ice was scratching his head. "May I know more about the Master Hypnotist?" he asked.
Prince looked up. "Besides appearing only once every hundred years, the person that it takes the form up may be good, or completely selfish. Many of the hosts have nothing special about them, save for being powerful hypnotists. I, personally, have never heard of a good host of the Master use its hypnotism for the greater good, but every single one of the evil hosts will satisfy their most selfish desires. If the Master is undefeated, it will remain all powerful until the next century, where it will enter another host, leaving the old one to die. This force is not one to be taken lightly, Ice. No man has ever managed to break a Master's trance," the owl said.
"Do you really think we have a chance, master Prince?" Ice gulped.
"I have faith in you, but I cannot be certain. Rumor has it that very religious and morally upright people like you may be actually able to completely resist the Master's hypnosis. Alas, such people are scarce. All I wish to say to you, and my niece, is good luck," Prince replied and stood up. "My time here is up. I must go back to where I am hiding, or the Victorians will be suspicious. Guide him, Pur. Your ancestors' fate rests in your hands," Prince said and strode off to the clock-decorated doorway. He entered the hall and the door shut behind him.

Ice broke the silence, "What should I do, miss Pur?"
"Wait here," Pur said. "Before you woke up, I took some designs for clothes which Lore's women might be fond of, if they can get out of their rut of dressing like burlesque dancers, that is. I'll go get them."
A few moments later, Pur returned, holding an armful of clothes.

Pur first held up a streamlined bodysuit with a long skirt attached to its waist. "A new swimsuit design from where my uncle is hiding," she said. Ice looked at the swimsuit. It was far more modest than any of the showgirl uniforms of Lore, since it resembled a long body suit and didn't have gaping holes where it was completely unneccessary.
"What on Lore is that for?" he asked.
"Your friends seem to really like tight clothes, but lack the ability to make suits that cover more than the leotard pattern implanted into the tailors' minds. It's a swimsuit, to answer your question. Only good for swimming, or so I heard. I thought the rogues of Lore might want to give this a try, instead of the blue low cut leotards that are their current uniforms."
"Do you have any full armor for them?"
"Ice, in the time my uncle's hiding, metal armor has gone out of fashion, but I have some designs from that era on paper."
"Maybe we should go? I really don't want Lore to be a compulsory cabaret," Ice sighed, looking at the door Prince had gone through.

"You're right, we'd better leave right now," Pur walked briskly to the door and entered the hall. Ice followed her to the door that led to Lore. He looked at it uneasily and Pur folded her arms impatiently.

"Now go!" Pur badgered Ice. The giant stepped forward, now familiar with time tunnels. Pur went after him. They returned to Lore carrying armfuls of clothes and another large basket of clothes was following them, floating on thin air. The two animals stepped out near Yulgar's inn, again. This time, more people were waiting outside. "What's the matter with them?" Pur asked. Her question was answered when several women wearing nothing but leotards stepped out of the inn. Ice slapped his forehead in disgust. "Are they mad? Lore's still not peaceful enough to have burlesque shows all the time," Pur whispered to Ice. The giant merely gulped in fright.
"What's your plan?" he asked, when he got over his shock. Pur looked grimly at the performing women, who were shaking their back ends and doing high kicks.
"I'll give them a little sensible fashion show," she said sarcastically while quickly changing into her trousers by pulling her orange skirt off and stuffing it into one of the baskets. She was already wearing the heavy orange jacket that reached her knees. After dressing, Pur sauntered off to the showgirls.

She raised her voice and shouted, "What in Lorithia's name are you thinking, wearing things that'll just get you dead!?" The showgirls and the audience stared at her. Pur continued, "You'll have no legs, no arms and no heads if you try to fight in such ridiculous leotards!"
The audience yelled back, "Shut up! No one cares what YOU think!"
Pur wasn't cowed so easily. She sneered, "People like you will drive your fellows to extinction."
A thin woman with crew cut purple hair, wearing a pirate showgirl uniform strode over to Pur. A golden lion tamarin clung to her shoulders. "Arrakis, could you deal with that heckler?" Blezzo meowed to the purple-haired woman. Arra nodded.

Pur and Arrakis looked at each other, then exclaimed in a creepily synchronized fashion, "Shiver me timbers! Another purple pirate!"
Arra laughed. Then, Pur looked at the other pirate's somewhat puffy eyes. "Is that a showgirl without the makeup?" Pur inquired.
"Makeup, me? My eyes are already like this," Arra replied. "Why are you shouting such mean things during the performance?"
"Because such things make no sense," Pur replied simply. Ice observed Arra and saw that her manner seemed to be very stilted, as if she was saying things against her will.
"Performing is our culture, I tell you," Arra said stubbornly. Pur shook her head.
"Hopeless dunces," she thought to Ice. "At this rate, I'll have to fight someone to prove my point," her thoughts continued. She said acidly, "Who, exactly, taught every single one of you to behave in such an idiotic manner?"
Arra looked very angry, so did the others. Another woman with short blue hair jumped in front of Pur, pointing two daggers at the catgirl.

"Oh, look. Another foolish woman who can't even dress properly for battle," Pur smoked her incense as she said this. "Stupid people. Whoever's got Lore in a burlesque show trance is really going to regret his decision," the purple catgirl smirked and looked down her nose at the blue-haired woman, who was wearing only a brown split corset, brown pants and brown boots with a blue scarf about her neck.

"I, Metrea, challenge you to a duel for insulting our culture!" the blue-haired rogue yelled. Pur smirked, put out her incense and balled her hands into fists.
Ice stared as the half-catgirl sneered, "You're on!" and dropped into a fighting stance.

Full Speed Ahead!

Metrea snarled, "Not so fast, stranger lady! We'll fight on the hill in an hour's time."
Pur relaxed. "Why didn't you say so?" she said, rubbing her hands. "You'll regret it, though, if you don't change out of that corset. Surely an intelligent rogue like yourself would be smart enough to wear a shirt under her corset, at least?" she continued. "Oh, right, Lorians are morons where women's armor is concerned," the catgirl finished with a nasty sneer. Almost everyone was glaring at her after that remark, some of them were staring at Ice. The giant shuffled uneasily on his feet. Metrea twirled her daggers and put them back into her belt. She snorted and stalked off. Pur stuck her smallest finger at her and shrugged. Then, she strode to Yulgar's inn in order to get ready.

In the inn, Pur asked Ice politely, "Where's the dressing room?"
"It's upstairs, first door on your left, number forty two," Ice replied, pointing upstairs. Pur nodded and climbed the stairs. The giant climbed up after her. He saw the half-catgirl enter the backroom with a lot of wrapping cloth. He waited outside the backroom. Behind the wooden door, Pur was getting ready for her duel. She tied her huge bust so that it looked somewhat smaller, put on a thick long-sleeved shirt and her jacket over the shirt, then put on some light long pants that stopped just above her heels. Pur's tail trailed after her. The half catgirl moved her tail in a few loops and curls, and was satisfied with its prehensile properties. She opened the door and stepped out.

"Miss Pur, are you sure you want to fight miss Metrea? She's the fastest woman on Lore," Ice asked the half-catgirl as they were walking to the hill, where quite a crowd had gathered.
"Is there any other woman who agrees with you that showgirl leotards make bad armor?" Pur inquired. Ice shook his head. "Besides, you can't beat up Metrea yourself, it would be considered foul play to have a giant fighting a human."
"I suppose you're right," Ice sighed. "Good luck."
Pur saluted him and climbed the hill. Metrea was waiting, her daggers already in her hands. "So you arrived. Don't you regret insulting Lore's culture?"
"Pah! Lore's culture isn't to force its women to dress like showgirls in battle!" the catgirl snapped. "I want to prove Ice's point, so let's not waste any time!"
"He's mad!" Blezzo mewed, leaning against the tree behind Twilly's sentry post.
Pur mocked the burgundy cat, "Oh, he's not mad, he's the only sane one in Las Vegas."

The crowd stepped back, and a swarthy woman with bright blue hunting dog hair wearing a burlesque dress stepped forward. "In this end," Arcana announced, "Stands our rogue trainer Metrea. Her challenger is a stranger that dares to make fun of our uniforms and our culture."
Ice couldn't resist adding silently, "You're the ones going against Lore's traditions."
"Stuff it with the formalities, you've already done away with armor ettiquette anyway!" Pur snorted.
"So rude!" Arcana sniffed. She whispered to Metrea, "Trounce her good, you hear me?"
The blue-haired rogue nodded and crouched, ready to strike. Twilly banged the gong next to him and squealed, "Commence the fight!"
Ice looked at the audience and saw Crystal watching the fight. She was still wearing a leotard and looked a bit bored. The giant sighed and sat down to watch the fight.

The two women faced off and glared at each other. First, Metrea rushed at Pur. Pur stepped aside quickly, keeping her eyes on the twin daggers. She quickly shrugged off her jacket and held it like a matador's cape, waiting for the older woman to dash at her.

Pur flung her jacket at Metrea when the latter approached her at full speed. The thick orange cloth snagged on the rogue's twin daggers and Pur jerked her jacket back to her body. The purple catgirl then flung her jacket out of the ring. It landed with a soft thump and the daggers clanked as they landed. Ice saw that Pur really wore as much clothing as she could to the fight. "Now, what do you have up your sleeves, huh?" Pur taunted Metrea, grinning widely. All of a sudden, Metrea seemed to vanish from view. Pur gaped and rubbed her eyes. At that moment, she felt a blow on her back. Pur toppled forward, crashing onto the grass. "Knockout?" Arcana asked, but Pur got up.
The catgirl smiled nastily. "Not that painful. You'll need to do better than that!" she said, then jumped into the air, striking Metrea's neck and head with her strong feet, one blow on each part.

"Whoa! That catgirl can really fight!" Meg gulped. "I sure wouldn't like to be in the ring right now."
"True," Crystal muttered. "But Metrea is the fastest woman on Lore, faster than Valencia, even. Her opponent's a bit slow."
"She seems to be much stronger, though. Could it be that the full clothes she wears absorb the shock of Metrea's punches?" Meg looked at Pur in amazement as she said this.

The rogue was stunned. Pur moved closer, intending to scratch Metrea's chest, which was exposed by her burlesque corset. Metrea recovered her wits and stepped back, but not far enough to avoid Pur's claws. The purple catgirl's claws cut the three tiny straps holding the corset closed. Pur finished up by giving a powerful kick to the blue rogue's middle. Metrea doubled over, and quickly stood up. What happened next was thoroughly embarrassing! The burlesque rogue's corset fell off, exposing her bust. Metrea yelled in embarrassment and covered her chest. Pur smirked and began smoking again. "Told you that corset was a bad idea, but you refused to believe me."

Ice turned around in embarrassment as nearly all the guys whistled at the rogue trainer. The dire turned his head warily and moved the older woman's scarf so that it covered her upper half. "Thanks," Metrea said harshly, but she didn't know it was Ice who helped her without using his real hands.
"Now, do I need to prove how bad your designs are? Every single last one of the women's uniforms, you'll get killed wearing those, by being stabbed in the chest, by losing both legs, and if you don't die in battle, you'll die embarrassed."
The blue-haired rogue scuttled away to change, and the people went back to their homes, too. The other trainers looked at each other, then walked off, muttering among themselves.

After the fight was officially over, Ice and Pur went to where the latter had opened the time portal. A shimmering puddle appeared in front of them after Pur recited the spell from her memory. "Do you remember what my uncle said, master Ice?" Pur said warningly before she stepped into the portal.
"That I must keep up my efforts to prevent Lore from decaying again?"
"Yes, and I want to tell you one last thing. You can't expect everyone to change overnight. But, if you work at it, Lore will go back to what it once was. Don't force it, you'll find the spell more difficult to break if you do force Lore to change immediately."
Ice replied and bowed, "I understand, miss Pur. Goodbye."
"Good luck," Pur bid him farewell. She jumped into the portal and it closed after her. Ice turned to face Shadow's corpse.
"I suppose I can find someone to resurrect you?" he asked the dead giant. He heard a loud puffing, then a happy bark in his mind. Ice smiled. "Then I'll take you to see Bal Gravestorm in the marsh, Shadow!" he exclaimed and walked off quickly, carrying the fuzzy body in front of him...

Aftermath.

Ice teleported himself and Shadow's stiff body to the marsh where Bal Gravestorm was staying. The white-haired, glowing-eyed necromancer was looking out at the marsh, waiting for something. Ice greeted him with, "Good day, master Bal."
"Good evening. What do you want?" Bal looked at the dead body floating beside Ice. "I suppose you want me to resurrect that giant wolf?"
"Yes, sir."
"Fortunately for you, I can raise your pet wolf from the dead, for a price of seven thousand gold coins."
Ice handed Bal the money as well as Shadow's corpse.

What exactly happened during Bal's resurrection of Shadow wasn't something Ice could blurt to anyone else, being a trade secret, but strangely enough, Shadow didn't become a zombie. Perhaps it was due to his body having been frozen and his spirit always hovering around his own corpse.

Though Ice was really happy when Shadow opened his tiny black eyes and barked happily at him. Then the ice giant hugged his four-legged best friend as the swamp necromancer looked on. "I'm proud of you, Ice," Shadow wuffed to his owner. "You managed to prevent Lore from hurtling into a compulsory burlesque trance. Now I can help you since I'm no longer overly disgusted by Las Vegas burlesque shows."
Ice couldn't find any words to reply to his pet, so he just stroked the latter's thick black fur.
Bal interrupted, "It's better if both of you went back to Battleon. I've got stuff to do in the swamp."
"Oh, alright, Bal. Thanks for resurrecting my pet wolf."
"You're welcome," Bal replied to the giant. He watched as Ice led his pet wolf back to Battleon.

It was night time when they approached the town, so the two giants slept in the forest. At sun rise, Shadow was the first to wake up. He shook his fuzzy fat body and scratched his ears, waiting for Ice to wake up. When his owner woke up, the fuzzy giant barked loudly and rushed around him happily. "Ok, boy, ok," Ice laughed. "I know you're happy to be alive again, but," Ice suddenly looked serious. "I wonder if my efforts to free Lore are working."
Shadow barked and wagged his tail while taking a few steps to Battleon. Ice dusted himself and followed his pet.

Ice was dismayed when he saw that all the women were still dressed in burlesque. Shadow glared at him, then growled, "I thought you broke the spell!"
"No, wait, Shadow. Please give it some time," Ice pleaded with his pet. Shadow stopped glaring, but his little black eyes watched the womenfolk suspiciously. He barked loudly and scuttled to the inn. Ice entered the inn with him.

"My costume? It's a surprise. All I can say is that it's different from my usual ones," Crystal answered, still combing her curly black hair.
"Is it a leotard?" Ice couldn't resist asking.
"Not a leotard. Just wait for tonight's show, Ice."
"Fine, and good luck, miss Lion," Ice took leave of the showgirl and left the inn.

Meg ran up to him as he left the inn. "Did you know that Crystal wouldn't perform for a week since you disappeared. She also refused to perform although you came back with a strange tall lady who kept making fun of Crystal, and you kept disappearing and reappearing!" the swarthy girl looked up and chattered at length. "We thought you were planning to leave Lore for good."
"How can I do such a thing to my friends, Meg? You know that Lore is my home, and it used to be the home of giants, well before humans arrived."
"Well, yeah, sorry for jumping to conclusions, Ice. But we were rather worried about you," Meg looked down. Shadow looked at her. The hunting dog was wearing a complete robe, without any unnecessary high slits.
"Ice, I think your efforts are showing," Shadow barked to Ice. Ice nodded. At last!
"What are you planning to do, now?" Meg asked him.
Ice looked around before answering. "I think I'll take Shadow for a long walk," he said, turning around and calling the dark giant to heel.
"Take care of yourself, then!" Meg waved her hand at the giants as they walked off.

That night, Ice was among the people who went to the inn to watch the cabaret performance. He brought his pet as well. The dark giant wasn't very happy and showed it by growling at every single one of the audience. "Please stop being so peevish," Ice told his pet.
"The spell won't be broken until there are no more cabaret shows!" Shadow barked angrily. To the humans, it seemed like Shadow was just being bad-tempered. Ice stared down angrily at his pet.
"If you bark and bark about immediate changes, Lore will never go back to its former state! Please be patient!" Ice snapped at his pet in wolvish. Shadow put his tail down and whined apologetically. Ice patted his head. "Come, let's see the show. At least we can leave if we don't like it, now."

It was a full house when Ice and Shadow entered the inn. Blezzo was standing on the stage, announcing who would perform next, as Emily stepped down from the stage. She was wearing a rogue's burlesque uniform. Shadow rolled his little black eyes at her. Blezzo noticed the dark giant sitting at Ice's feet and asked, "Didn't he die?"
"Yes, but he came back to life."
"I can see that!" the burgundy cat mewed crossly. He said into the microphone he was holding, "Up next is Crystal, the lion of Las Vegas!"

Ice stared when Crystal went up the stage, for she was wearing a full black dress that resembled Pur's. Shadow barked and wagged his tail very quickly, shimmying as he did so. "Now that's a nice costume!" he barked along with the audience's cheers as Crystal began performing. Ice put his head in his hands, smiling a little. If he could completely break the spell on his home world, Lore's reputation would not be too tattered. His eyes watered a little, he was overwhelmed by the fact Lore was taking baby steps towards its old traditions.

The End.