This one takes a strange turn as a new effect of the dragon's powers are introduced. Much like Konall's earlier story, it has a surreal feel to it- but this one's no dream! Dash and Catrina are split up - will they be able to reunite in time to attack the dragon? And will Dash be able to sort his sudden memory problems out?!

"The Mysterious Island of Mystery."

From the name alone, it should come as no surprise that it's quite the hotbod of odd activities and unusual residents. A general home to outcasts and weirdness, basically.

Dash was having problems remembering why he'd chosen to come here for a vacation in the first place. Probably for solitude, he figured. Mistake. For as long as Dash could remember this morning (not very long, although that thought hadn't yet occurred to Dash), he'd been filled with an anxious desire to get off the island, and back to life in the Kingdo.. no.. down south of the border.

Why did the Kingdom enter his mind?

Dash tried to shake the sleep off. Even though he knew he had been up for a while, it felt like he'd been sleeping for hours, if not days. Like something was out of place.

As soon as he realized that, he was overcome with a sudden sense of serenity, and then indifference. That bugged Dash most of all. His mind drifted, as Dash reflected on the long boat trip over here. There'd been plenty of Gnolls and Dyspepsi soldiers on the way over, and Dash made enough profit from selling that key to pay for the boat trip over.

(Wait, how'd he get on the boat and then pay for it? Dash wasn't quite sure..)

Dash reached for another drink, then realized he didn't have any with. With an indifferent shrug, he tried to remember where he'd left his luggage when he got to the island. So relaxing, so comforting on the Island of Mystery.

An urgent rush pounded at the back of Dash's mind when he noticed his items scattered across the beach he vaguely remembered landing at. Dash shrugged, wanting to chalk it up to Knob vandals but knowing that didn't quite fit.. There might be Orcs- and fouler things than- but no Knobs. Knobs weren't good with water, bath or otherwise.

Dash took in the smell of the island again. The seawater smelled better than most of the rest of the island. The Orc camp smelled of moderately priced booze and unwashed, in general, and the hippie camp smelled of . . . . . well unwashed druggies. Dash could smell the patchouli oil from here.

A face flashed through Dash's head as he went about picking his supplies up, but it quickly faded from his memory, somehow refusing to stay there long enough for his mind to focus on it.

Dash ignored the tattered remains of Orc Soriety t-shirts and crushed beer cans as he went about picking up his own items. Dash's attention snapped back as he heard a sharp crack of thunder in the distance- at least, Dash thought it had to be thunder. He wasn't sure what else it could be. The thought it might be a battlecry never entered his mind.

No, wait, that's not quite right, Dash realized. The perception that the idea it might be a scream not entering his mind had flashed across the corners of Dash's perception. Weird. Probably just thunder. They'd hit some rough seas on the way over on the raft.

Dash stopped dead in his tracks, closing his eyes. Whatever was wrong here, it was giving Dash quite a headache. After all, he didn't take a raft over, yet he kept thinking he and her had. Who 'her' was, Dash had no idea. Maybe it was the sea's wind messing with Dash's head.

Dash quickly worked to finish gathering the items that'd been casually tossed around the beach. Nothing seemed to be missing, although Dash wasn't quite sure he could remember everything he'd brought over on the trip. A few of the items had been lost at sea. That hit Dash as strange, since he didn't remember any particular disasters aboard the boat trip over.

Dash took what he'd gathered over to one of the bags he brought with him. Should be the one with his Cloaca Cola shirt in it. Dash smiled to himself, and opened the bag to stuff the scattered provisions into. Dash wasn't sure why he hadn't brought anything more suitable for a vacation with him to. . .

The shirt was missing. A strange feeling ran down Dash's spine, possibly starting from his gullet or something. Dash felt totally out of place. He was sure he'd brought it. In it's place were two unfamiliar katanas.

Dash had no idea who they belonged to, and that fact in of and by itself sent a feeling of confused terror down Dash's spine. Something was wrong here- something was seriously, terribly wrong.

Dash reached hesitantly for one of the two katanas. As soon as his palm gripped the hilt, his mind was flooded with . . . . images? Memories? Dash's vision dulled then blackened, as his mind found interest only in the images unfolding in his mind, just out of his eye's sight.

Dash instantly know he was supposed to know this person, this girl in his vision, and he knew something was wrong. Images of her and him engaged in battle with Moblinos and Stallish troops, as they surrounded the two. An image of Dash saving her life, and her pledging her unending support in return.

He could even see them traveling over on a roughly made, hardly safe raft to the islands, a few hours ago. It all seemed like it'd been dulled by years and years of forgetting.

Just pondering what could have made him forget what was happening made Dash's head ache. There was only one thing Dash could figure here. They were out to stop a new wave of Dyspepsi invasion, with Dash falling victim to one of their infamous attempts at mind controlling drinks. The Dyspepsi Mind Twist program, aka Operation Mindless Brew. The new soldiers looked like a throwback to the age of the infamous Cola Wars.. Maybe a counter to the rumors of a Cloaca Cola Classic army being founded?

Dash attached the katanas to his bad, pulling his own broadsword, "Bad Beats," into Dash's hands.

Whatever was going on didn't matter. Dash couldn't remember her name, or what she looked like, or anything else other than the fact she was probably expecting Dash to rush to her rescue.

That was all he needed.