Hi, and welcome to this story. This is sort of a lead-in for the big upcoming stories I'm working on, including the three-parter I mentioned on thecountsblog tumblr account, and one more big story that's a long time coming. I wanted to post this one first to get everybody ready. I wrote most of it last summer on a whim of inspiration, and spent the fall polishing it while working on the anniversary and on my book.

This one is a little different than other Count's World stories, as it actually has its main focus on other people. The story was something that just hit me, and even though it seemed less like a traditional Count's World story, I couldn't imagine telling it any other way.

The room in which Count Bleck was meeting was not built for luxury. The entire house was contained in this one room- everything from preparing meals to sleeping and all activities in between were done in the confines of this small space. There wasn't even a shower or bath; this being in the middle of the desert, water was scarce, and the whole outpost had to share a bay of five showers in a building just at the end of this street. Still, cramped as this room was, his host had taken the time to make room for Count Bleck, and as he sat across from the bed, he did not feel particularly crowded. His host, a green little mouser wrapped in desert garb, sat on his own bed across from his guest.

"Thank you for coming," said the little mouser.

"Thank you for having me."

The mouser glanced down and then back at Count Bleck's face, as if sizing him up. "I have heard tales of you. They say you are a nice guy... a very nice guy indeed."

"I'd like to think so," said Count Bleck.

"If you are truly nice, then you will listen to my plea."

"It's what I came for."

The little mouser nodded. "Yes... yes, indeed. Allow me to properly introduce myself." He cast away his concealing clothes. "My name is Moustafa, and I am concerned with the well-being of his desert."

"How so?"

"Several weeks ago, a group of foreigners from beyond the sea arrived. They claimed to be archaeologists on an important mission of discovery. In this short time they have set up an excavation site and are plunging deep into the mysteries of this desert.

"Dry Dry Desert holds many secrets. No doubt you are familiar with Dry Dry Ruins, the ancient temple that was all but lost until a hero, another nice guy, restored it to the surface and protected the treasures within."

"I am," said Count Bleck.

"So you believe this desert holds secrets... some of them dangerous ones."

"You're afraid the archaeologists will dig up more than they bargained for."

"Yes." Moustafa shifted. "And so are the locals. Any time a large group of foreigners comes here, taking up space, using our resources, and hunting for our artifacts, it makes the locals nervous. It is my hope that you can help on both of these counts."

"I can try my best," said Count Bleck. "I'll put my minions on the case right away."

Moustafa smiled coyly. "I was right. You are a nice guy."

Count Bleck stood up. "First let me pay a visit to the archaeologists."

"Let me give you the coordinates." Moustafa did so, and Count Bleck was gone.

Count Bleck arrived at the coordinates to find an already fully functional dig site. It was already nearly as wide across as the courtyard of Castle Bleck, and deeper than his shoulders. There didn't seem to be anything in the hole yet save for two dozen grad students relentlessly sifting through the sand desperate to find an artifact to write their thesis about. There were several dozen small tents pitched to the north of the site, as well as ten very large ones and an aluminum-sided trailer that seemed to have the only air conditioning unit in the camp, perched in a window.

Count Bleck guessed that the trailer was the office, so he went up to it and knocked politely. It was quickly answered by a gray-haired, balding goomba in thick glasses. "Hello? Yes?"

"Hello, said Count Bleck. I have come here on behalf of the residents of Dry Dry Outpost and beyond concerning your recent activity."

"Is this about the permits?"The goomba frowned. "I already talked to your people about this. The permits cleared weeks ago. Everything should be good to go."

Count Bleck shook his head. "No, this isn't about whether you're allowed to dig here. It's just that the locals are concerned about the impact your presence may have, and they have asked me to assuage their fears."

"Hm." the goomba frowned. "And who are you, again?"

"Count Bleck. And your name, if I may ask?"

"It's Professor Frankly," said the goomba.

Inside the trailer, a woman's voice called, "Who is it, Professor?"

"A representative of the locals!" Professor Frankly called back.

A female goomba poked out from behind Professor Frankly. This one was much younger, and she had a bright blonde ponytail under a mining helmet. She also wore a red cravat. She was smiling, and she introduced herself right away: "Hiya! Name's Goombella. You say the locals are worried about us?"

"Yes," said Count Bleck.

"I remember reading about this in school," said Goombella. "Are they worried about the increase in resource consumption? Or are they upset about us taking the artifacts they view as theirs?"

"A little of both," said Count Bleck, keeping his cards close to his chest at the moment.

"And they want you to work it out?"

"Yes."

Goombella turned to Professor Frankly. "So, why don't we let them stay?"

Professor Frankly sputtered, "I beg your pardon?"

"Yeah," said Goombella. "He doesn't seem too hostile, and it would keep things smooth with the locals. He can tell us if there are any problems and we'd be free to focus all our energy on excavating."

"To be fair," Count Bleck cut in, "It wouldn't just be me. I would bring my wife and my minions as well. But I can keep them in line."

"You'd keep them out of our way?" asked Professor Frankly.

"If there is not currently a grievance from the locals, you won't know we're here."

Professor Frankly nodded slowly. "All right," he said. "This sounds acceptable."

Count Bleck tipped his hat. "Thank you. Count Bleck will return shortly." With that, he disappeared.

"He seemed nice," said Goombella.

"He did," agreed Professor Frankly. "I hope this keeps the locals off our backs. This may just prove to be the archaeological discovery of the century."

As soon as all the minions were gathered in the meeting room, Count Bleck was ready to conduct. He had all of their attention, he could tell, looking from one face to the next. Nastasia, O'Chunks, Mimi, and Dimentio were all standing quietly and watching him, not being distracted- or distracting- and it seemed for once things were going well in the meeting room.

"I've got us another mission," said Count Bleck.

"Neat," said Mimi.

"It's in Dry Dry Desert."

"Less neat." Mimi slouched.

"We're going to be assisting at an archaeological dig site," Count Bleck continued. "We have been asked to be a go-between 'twixt the locals and the archaeologists, negotiating any disputes between them to resolve them in the interest of both parties..." Count Bleck trailed off.

"And?" Dimentio leaned forward expectantly.

"And... there are concerns that what the archaeologists dig up may be of a dangerous nature."

O'Chunks pumped his fists excitedly. "Yes! An' here I thought this was gonna be one o' them boring missions, all talk-talk-talk, no chunks whatsoever."

"There will possibly be chunking," said Count Bleck. "But I must stress that we will be out in the desert, where it is very hot and dry, and we are not to interfere in the archaeological excavation at any time."

"Well, I have been wanting to try out my summer wardrobe," said Mimi.

"And I've been meaning to work on my tan," said Dimentio.

"You can tan?"

"Certainly, if I go out in the sun. Which I never do, so it hasn't really come up."

"I've seen you in the sun before."

"Only in short bursts. I prefer places like Castle Bleck or Dimension D, where there is no sun to speak of."

"Yeah, I never think about it much, but we really don't have a sun here," said Mimi. "Remember when Nawrocki was here, and he took over, but we beat him because he didn't realize he was slowly starving without any sunlight to photosynthesize?"

"Come to think of it," said O'Chunks, "where does the light come from if there ehn't no sun?"

"What is Count Bleck, an astronomer?"

At that point, Nastasia straightened her glasses, lifted her clipboard, cleared her throat, and began to read: "Okay, so we have a lot to do in order to get ready for this mission. Item one: everybody pack a week's worth of clothes and all of your overnight supplies- toothbrushes, soaps, combs, whatever. You will be responsible for your own laundry when we get to the desert. We are staying indefinitely at the moment, so make sure you have what you need for day-to-day living. Unfortunately, due to problems with previous away missions, I'm afraid I'm going to have to limit you to two suitcases or less."

"What? That's not fair!" Mimi stamped her foot. "You're singling me out!"

"No one is being singled out. It wasn't any one thing. It wasn't you bringing your entire fall wardrobe on a day mission. It wasn't O'Chunks bringing his rock collection to the bottom of the sea mission, and it wasn't Dimentio bringing six empty suitcases just to bother everyone. Okay? We're all in the same boat. So pack light. Depending on how long the mission takes, we may come back here a few times to rotate our supplies."

Nastasia continued down their itinerary, reading over who was responsible for packing what, how they were going to secure the castle, and everything else that needed doing before they left. As soon as they were finished, the meeting broke. "Everyone spend the rest of today getting ready. We'll be leaving at six tomorrow morning."

"Six?!" Mimi said in disbelief. "Why do we have to leave so early?"

"Archaeologists apparently wake with the sun," said Count Bleck. "Or at least these ones do."

Mimi grumbled, but hopped off her meeting pedestal and began leaving for her room. As she left, she felt a quick tap on her shoulder. She turned around and saw Dimentio standing on the ground behind her. "What do you want?" She hadn't meant it to sound mean, but somehow it always came out that way.

"I'm only packing one suitcase," said Dimentio.

"Okay, good for you. What do you want? A medal?"

Dimentio glanced over his shoulder. Nastasia was currently talking to Count Bleck in hushed tones. He then turned back to Mimi. "I mean, if you wanted to wanted to use my extra suitcase. You know... for your little outfits."

"Why? What are you gonna do to them?"

Dimentio didn't answer. His facial expression didn't even change. He just looked at her, patiently, without a trace of mischief evident in his mask.

Mimi raised an eyebrow curiously. "Okay," she said. "Thank you."

"I'll bring it to your room after I'm done packing," said Dimentio. "When you're finished, just leave it outside my door. I'll carry it, Nastasia will think it's mine, and it won't make a difference." With that, he left.