Isle of the Damned

Friendly Company

Prologue pt 2 of 3: Friendly Company

*3,000 years later- 1914*
The general was desperate. For years he had been searching for a way to the Isle and now he had finally found one, The Briarwoods.
The Briarwoods were well renown for their exploration excellency, being the authors of the series 'Better Than Your Backyard: A guide to the world outside England' and envied collectors of some of the rarest items on Earth.
Yes, the Briarwoods were expert adventurers, well at least they were before the birth of their daughter, Scarlett. The birth of their daughter had slowed down their voyages, but their status had remained as prominent. Besides, they had studied the Isle for nearly a lifetime, it was quite possible that no one else on Earth could help him better than the Briarwoods.

And so the General, along with a few men of his militia traveled to England to ask the Briarwoods of their knowledge of the Isle.

Prior to their arrival, they had not informed the Briarwoods of their visit , leaving them in utter disbelief to find a pudgy white haired man, along with a dozen or so agile men belonging to his militia, at their doorstep.
"Ehm, sorry arrive on such short notice, but we need your help.", The General spoke while chuckling nervously here and there in between his words.

Behind the door were Mr and Mrs Briarwood. They had lustrous black hair, and Jade green eyes. Mrs Briarwood had an assortment of freckles on her face whereas her husband wore glasses.

Mrs.Briarwood wore a coy smile on her face as she looked between the General and her husband. Mr.Briarwood raised a brow at the men before speaking,
"Well General I must admit, some sort of warning would have been nice. Your presence, although appreciated, isn't warranted.", he stated cheekily with a tight smirk at the end.
The general could only chuckle and clear his throat, "Yes yes, well you see I uh- I sent a letter but it must've gotten lost in the mail. Damn that pesky postal service!".
Mr and Mrs.Briarwood could only snicker before welcoming the General and his men into their home.
"Tell me General, what brings you here so unexpectedly.", Mr.Briarwood began as his wife brought out tea for the guests.
"Why David, can't an old soul stop by for uh..uhm, friendly company?", The General remarked cooly, as he sipped tea.
"As nice as that sounds, I've always known you to be perfectly capable of entertaining yourself. Seeing as you're always off to war or some other.", Mr.Briarwood responded indifferently.

The General had to get to the point quick, before Mr.Briarwood lost intrest in him altogether.
"David, you've caught me.". Mr.Briarwood smirked while looking down at his habds before looking back to the General.
"I've actually come to pick your brain. Well you and your wife's brain that is.".
Mrs.Briarwood had finally sat down after ensuring each guest had a cup of tea. Mr.Briarwood rested his left hand upon her right knee before proceeding, "We're listening...".
The General had set his tea down and stood up, "My men and I are traveling soon and we require information regarding said location. Seeing as you and your wife are well renowned adventurers yourselves, who better than you to aid us in our journey.".
"-And where are you going, may I ask?", inserted Mrs.Briarwood.
"Well i'm glad you asked..", The General paused before completing his sentence. "We're going to The Isle of the Damned.".

Mr and Mrs Briarwood's  green eyes grew wide. They looked to each other then back to the General. No way were they to believe that this stubby, old war veteran was to lead a group of men into an ancient jungle of death.
"Very funny General, now please be serious.", Mr.Briarwood retorted, shifting uncomfortably.
"I know i'm a humorous man, but this is no laughing matter. My men and I are set to venture to the Isle. We have matters to resolve, that must be done so there.".
The Briarwoods remained silent.
Growing bored of the silence, the General decided to speak, "That is unless of course, you two know nothing of the damned island.".
"Please..", Mr.Briarwood scoffed, "...don't insult us.".