[Mkguild] A Contest and a Dark Surprise.

[Mark Ewing]

Well here we go again. I'm still tryinng to get all of my stories that I
wrote while waiting for the posting for the story A Friend in Need posted on
the list. I hope you all enjoy this story. As always comments are welcome as
they help me improve my writing.




The Contests and a Dark Surprise



Oberon Snowcat



            I woke up early in the morning as the sun just began to creep
through the curtains in my room. I slowly pulled myself out of bed in a most
languorous fashion before I stretched out to my full length and yawned. The
stretch and yawn routine felt good in the morning, just like sharpening my
claws felt good. For some reason the feline in me enjoyed those sorts of
activities. Once I had those things taken care of I got dressed in my full
combat armour and collected my weapons, including the new monster bow that I
had finished the other day. I also made a point to grab the other bow that I
had also managed to finish. I slipped it into a soft brown leather case
right beside a quiver full of arrows that I had made myself.  Once I was
satisfied that I had everything I headed out of the Keep and down to the
Festival Grounds where I knew that Misha would be either in his FADGER
booth, or down at the archery range practising his aim and range work. I
found him just as he was apparently getting ready to leave the booth to Will
Hardy.

            "Ho Misha! How are you this fine morning?"

            "Good morning Oberon, how are you doing?"

            "Oh pretty well." I carefully un-slung my own brand new monster
of a longbow and held it out for him to look at. "What do you think of this
new bow that I finished last night?"

Misha took the bow from my hands and carefully examined it. "Powerful and
impressive."

I smiled. "No magic in this bow except for my craftsmanship."

            "This bow's almost a foot taller than I am!" The fox exclaimed.

I grinned and then picked up the other bow, the one that was still in its
brand new case with its quiver of arrows at my feet where I had concealed
them before I had called out to Misha, and held them out to him.

            "Misha this is a small token of my gratitude for what you have
done for me since I got here in February."

            "I'm..I'm...touched." he took the bow out of my hands gently,
but I could tell that he was thunderstruck. "Thank you. This is beautiful
and amazing!"

            "It took me more than three weeks to make, and there was a
period of more than a month and a half when I didn't get any work done on it
at all." I touched the ogre thumb that hung from the middle of my necklace.
"I was doing something else at that time."

Misha nodded his head. "I am glad to see you back to making weapons."

            "As opposed to using them?"

            "Yes." He answered before he walked around the counter and
patted me on the back, though I hardly felt it through my heavy armour.

            "Well I do enjoy using them."

            "As long as you don't use them TOO much, there is more to life
then fighting and killing."

            "I know there is but I'm glad that you reminded me of that
fact."

            "With little Guy around I have the feeling that you will be kept
busy away from your weapons." Misha joked.

            "Well I do want to do more work around my forge, when I have the
time. Wouldn't you like some armour like this?" I rapped my knuckles against
my left breastplate to demonstrate my armour.

            "I'm happy with my armour, but can you make some armour for
George? The old jackal needs a new set." the fox asked. "Something fancy and
well decorated." I raised my left eyebrow and ear before I replied

            "I'm not all that good at fancy. My armour tends to be stark and
utilitarian, though I can try."

            "Fair enough, As long as it's solid and dependable. I can have
some gold and silver decorations added to it."

            "Solid and dependable is exactly the kind of armour that I make.
Let me guess who is going to decorate it." I motioned to Will Hardy who had
just stepped behind the counter of their booth. "Will can do the
decorations, if I pay him adequately."

            "What are you going to have me doing now?" the old badger asked.

            "Help decorate some armour." the fox explains

            "The armour that needs to be decorated isn't -."

            "It's hard to explain Will but I think that both of us can do
it. I'll have the metals in time and you can apply the gems." the fox added.


I looked at both the fox and the badger before I asked Misha, "Does George
know about this or are you going to get me his measurements so that I can
make this armour?"

            "This I want to be a surprise. A gift for him." Misha explained.
"I should be able to give you his basic measurements."

            "Can you get me precise measurements, I can't make the kind of
armour that I make with just basic measurements. I need as many precise
measurements as I can possibly get."

            "I can get them for you easily enough." Misha answered. "I'll
just take a set of his clothes."

            "That should work just fine Misha. How long until you need this
armour to be completed? The reason that I'm asking is because there are
several things that I want to do for the next month. I also have my duties
when I get back to the Keep. There is also the object of how much you are
willing to pay me for this suit."

            "I want the finest quality. Money is not an issue here. And two
months or more is a good enough time limit."

            "I should be able to turn out one of my better quality suits in
that amount of time. It will follow my standard composite pattern of
construction featuring hardened leather, chain-mail, and several
strategically positioned plates. However the cost will be considerable, I
would estimate that it would be close to a hundred and fifty garrets or if
you prefer seven hundred and fifty suns."

Misha nodded. "I can afford that." He said.

I nodded my head before I asked, "Misha I see that you are about to head out
to the archery field to get some practise. Do you mind if I come along,
since I have to get a few shots with my new bow in myself?"

            "Sure. You're welcome to join me on the range." the fox
answered.

I grinned and then turned and began to stride to down the makeshift street
until I reached the archery range and pulled out my bow and began the
difficult task of stringing the bow.

Misha watched me string my monster of a bow before he asked, "Just how
powerful is that bow?" He asked me as he strung his own weapon.

            "Oh roughly three hundred and five pounds, give or take a pound
or so." I replied in a nonchalant manner.

            "THREE HUNDRED?" he asked surprised. "That's incredible! I'm
lucky to pull one hundred and thirty pounds."

            "The bow that I designed for you has pull of one hundred and
fifteen pounds. I wanted your new bow to be a practical weapon of war and
not just a decoration."

            "Good! That is what I need. That powerful tiger body of yours
will let you shoot an arrow twice as far as anyone else."

I nodded my head silently before I asked, "Why don't you try out your new
bow?"

            "I intend to," he says and slowly strings his new weapon. Slowly
he hefts it and nocked an arrow. "Powerful and smooth."

I watched him for a moment before I pulled out one of my four and a half
foot long arrows and nocked it before firing. This bow was definitely close
to my limit when it came to a bow that I could use. I watched as Misha
pulled back the string to his new weapon and released. The arrow flew
straight and true, thunking down in the middle of the target that was set up
two hundred yards downrange.

            "Is everything you use massive or oversized?" Misha asked
looking at the large arrows that were sticking out of my quiver.

I laughed as I finished my draw and released. I watched as the arrow
over-flew the target and kept on going for a least a hundred more yards
before thunking down into the turf.

            "Impressive! Very impressive. Just beware of where those arrows
might land," he pointed out.

            "I built this weapon as a competition weapon. Otherwise I will
use my two hundred and fifty pound draw weapon."

            "There are very few people who can beat that range except for a
few of the more powerful morphs."

            "I intended this weapon as my ace in the hole."

            "Oh? What do you mean?"

            "How many people are going to be here that will be able to draw
this thing at all?"

            "Well the distance event usually draws around a hundred people.
The accuracy competition a little more."

            "Of those hundred how many will have the strength to pull a
three hundred pound bow?"

            "One or two perhaps. There is an elk I know who pulls a two
hundred pound bow that I know of."

            "How is his technique?" I asked letting a little of the concern
that I felt show in my voice.

Misha shrugged. "I've no idea. But last year I beat him with a more powerful
bow of my own. I pulled a mass of muscles in the process and couldn't shoot
for a month."

            "Ouch."

            "I used words a lot more powerful that that!" he laughed. "But I
did win."

            "Well this year I intend on winning."

            "I believe you will win, but it might be a tough fight."

            "I always look forward to a competition, otherwise what would
the point be?

            "True! I am going to try the accuracy contest too but Caroline
will probably beat me as she usually does."

            "Personally I won't enter that competition, I'm just not quite
that good of a marksman."

            "Caroline and Padraic are the best archers in the Keep. There
certainly are the best in the Long Scouts."

            "Personally I use my bow and atlatl to whittle down the odds
before I go in with my swords. They are my best weapons, though I can use an
axe or a mace in a pinch."

            "Caroline and Padraic can and HAVE killed people at some
incredible ranges. Their skill is scary sometimes."

            "Well my bow is for long range work, my atlatl is for closer
ranges without the noise of the bow, and my swords are for up close and
personal work."

            "Everyone is different. The rabbit's style is to the archer. He
believes in the old line One Shot, One Kill."

            "That works for some, but for me I prefer to get in close where
I can do more damage. I can kill faster with my swords than many people can
kill with a bow."

Misha laughed. "Padraic would say the same thing about his bow."

            "Someday maybe we should work together, see how many of those
little monsters we can take out."

            "A contest of bow versus sword to see who will kill the most?
Interesting!"

            "In my case its plural, swords."

Misha looked me up and down before he asked, "Oberon. Just how many weapons
are you carrying on you right now?"

            "Oh nine, if you don't include the projectiles for my atlatl and
my longbow. Though when I'm out on patrol I carry four more knives, and I
replace my short-sword with a broadsword."

            "You are carrying more weapons now then most whole patrols
carry. Why so many weapons? Going to fight a war?"

            "Well I never leave the Claw anywhere, and I'm going to be
competing with my longbow and atlatl. As for the rest, I'm just used to
carrying them around with me."

            "Just?" Misha said. "We're in the Keep surrounded by several
thousand fellow Keepers. I doubt you'll need them all."

            "Sorry it's an old habit. I can't break all of my habits just
because I have moved to a safe place."

Misha just laughed. "And people think me carrying just my axe was strange."

            "Well I do admit that I'm probably one of the more unusual
people that has come here in recent memory. After all how many other seventy
two year old mercenaries do you see here that are in my kind of shape?"

Misha let out a yap of laughter. "You are one of the strangest people here
indeed, and considering how strange people are here at the Keep that's a
considerable feat!"

I nodded my head and then put down my longbow and indicated that I was going
to go fetch my arrow that lay roughly three hundred and ninety yards away.

"All right." Misha said and put down his own bow down before falling into
step beside me. "I'll go get mine. I just don't have as far to walk as you."


I grinned at his comment and then used my highly flexible tail to reach up
and tap him on the shoulder.

Misha looked around to see who had tapped him on the shoulder and to no
great surprise sees no one there.

When I saw the puzzled expression on his muzzle I had to muffle a laugh,
though I couldn't keep the tip of my tail from twitching in silent feline
laughter. In so doing it tapped him repeatedly on the shoulder.

"I don't believe you just did that and I fell for it!"

In between muffled chuckles I managed to say, "Sometimes the old ones are
the best ones."

Misha could do nothing more than shake his head wryly.

A short time later we both lined up for real in the competition.

I turned to Misha and said, "May the best man, or rather animal win Misha."

Misha extended a hand to me and I shook it as he said, "Good luck!"

I nodded my head and then watched as the umpire of the first round of the
competition

            For me that competition was actually a lot of fun because I had
by far the most powerful bow in use in the contest. Even Misha had to
concede that he really didn't have much of a chance against me. Seeing as
how last year he had only managed to win by using a bow that was really
beyond his own personal limits. My only real opponents were the elk that
Misha had mentioned and another cat like myself, though this one was smaller
than I was since his pattern was based on a southern jungle cat.

In the last round we all shot impressively but I still managed to get an
arrow some fifty yards further than the elk man managed. My prize for
winning the contest was a quiver that could hold a hundred arrows without
being too bulky.

The next contest that I entered was the spear-throwing contest, and once
again I had built some special spear darts and an atlatl for the express
purpose of entering and winning the contest. Once again I managed to win the
contest, though this one was much closer and I only managed to pull out the
victory because of the mechanical assistance of the atlatl.

When I walked up to the tent that held the entry box for my third contest
the judge of the contest curtly informed me of the rules against weapons and
armour in the contest. This contest was the wrestling contest, and since I
wanted to enter this contest I would have to strip down to my kilt so that I
could compete in the contest.

I stepped out of the tent and looked around at the stands before I saw
someone that I could trust to hold onto my armour for me.

It was George, the Patrol Master. Sheathed at his side was the sword that I
had made for him before I had gone out on my killing spree.

I quickly stripped down to my kilt and piled all of my weapons on my armour
before I stepped out of the tent and walked over to where George was sitting
in the stands. "George could you hold onto these for me? I don't really
trust anyone else in the crowd here."

            "I am honoured." The Jackal responded sounding amused. "I'll
watch over them most diligently."

            "I would appreciate that very much." I told him before I placed
my stuff in his arms. That revealed my massively muscled white furred white
torso.

            "You go around bare-chested like that and every female in the
Keep will chasing after you."

            "They told me that I had to take off my armour to compete in
this event."

            "I know that, but you have a body that a lot of women would die
for Oberon. Women will find you very handsome."

            "I wonder why they didn't find me handsome before I came to the
Keep when I was still human? I was, pardon the self aggrandization, quite
handsome according to the standards of my people."

George laughed. "When did you go around back then with no shirt on? And
besides most women love cats!"

I rolled my eyes at his insinuation before I turned around and head back
towards the registration tent where I signed up for the contest. As I left
him behind I heard George laugh again, much to my chagrin.

My first opponent in that contest was a small wiry man with a sneaky look in
his green eyes. This was, in my opinion the most difficult kind of person to
fight because they weren't above using devious tricks in order to attain a
victory over larger, stronger opponents. This man was no different and he
tried numerous tricks, only to find that I was aware of every single one of
them. Finally after much tumbling and dodging I managed to corner him and
throw him down to the ground and pin him.

My last opponent in the contest was much more of a challenge. He was a
well-trained boar of a man; literally, he was a large pig morph with jutting
tusks and small brown eyes.

He looked up at me and then snorted and mumbled, "You watch yourself kitty
cat I am going to wrap you around my knee with one hand."

            "You should never brag about what you are going to do to your
opponents until you have discovered the limits of their capabilities." With
that reply I took up a defensive stance and prepared to receive his first
charge. I didn't really have to wait long because after a moment he charged
me with full violence. I met his charge with outstretched arms and then
deflected the energy of his charge to the left and past me; at the same time
I stuck out a foot and tripped him up so that he landed on his muzzle in the
dirt.

He roared in fury, jumped up and tried to grab me with his hands. However
that failed and he only got himself into more trouble as I used the energy
of his attack against him making him fall down again.

Each time that he attacked me I used his own energy against him flinging him
down into the dirt. However, he wised up to my tactics and began to try and
trap me in my own counters. That was when the fight began to get more
serious. As we fought I could see that this man had his own code of honour,
though it wasn't as strict as my own. We fought for at least five minutes
trying to find a weakness in each other's defences. He didn't possess my
sheer speed or my phenomenal strength, but he did have stamina and a thick
skin that allowed him to shrug off blows that would knock down any normal
man. Finally he pulled a trick that I wasn't expecting that put me off my
balance and his follow-up move brought me down to the ground. There we
wrestled about for a few moments, but I was rapidly tiring because of how
long we had already been fighting.

Finally he managed to pin me and gain the victory, though I had given him a
run for his money. As second prize I was given a pair of bracers that gave a
man increased in endurance to allow him to beat his enemy in hand to hand
combat.

When I went up to George and collected my armour and weapons from him he
didn't say anything until I had put on my stuff and turned to head back to
the Keep for a couple hours of rest before I engaged in the next
competition, for me the most important competition of the day.

            Three hours later I arrived back at the Festival grounds, much
refreshed after my nap, and much lighter because I was no longer carrying my
quiver, longbow, or atlatl. I was now fully ready to compete in the
swordsmanship contest and I was determined to win this one. In my arms I
carried a pair of specially made swords that I had constructed at the same
time that I had made George's cutlass. These swords were neither enchanted
with any Kelmar God Runes, nor sharpened to any great extent however, they
were superbly balanced and designed specifically for me.

Since the last contest in the spring Equinox Festival I had been determined
that I wouldn't fight ever again with someone else's weapons again.

The marshals of the contest checked over the two swords and then one asked
me about the two swords on my belt.

            "They stay where they are. I will not draw them other than if
the person facing me is a real threat to my existence."

The two marshals considered it for a couple of seconds before they finally
acceded to my desires. My first four fights were relatively easy, and this
time I didn't end up injuring people in order to secure my victories. As far
as I could tell the contest was going just the way that I had planned it.

That all changed on my fifth fight. This man was almost identical to the way
that I had been before I had arrived at the Keep four and a half months ago.
Maybe five foot eleven, with dark brown, some would say even black, hair,
and the impressive build of a career fighter. When we faced off I looked
into the man's glimmering golden eyes and saw something in them that I
didn't like at all. It was a desire not just to win but also to completely
crush his opponent.

I prepared myself for the contest that was to follow mentally before I
finally got tired of waiting for the other man to move first and lashed out
with my longer weapon. The man moved with uncanny speed and blocked the blow
with his sword before he tried to riposte with his long dagger. The fight
was on and this one was proving to be quite the challenge. It was as I
locked both swords with the man and got in close that I finally realized
that I wasn't up against a normal man. This man's breath reeked of narrelat,
the drug of the Racteganect. This man was an assassin, sent out to hunt me
by the Clanlord of the Bleeding Sun Clan.

I kicked him in the chest with my right leg while I stepped back and drew
both of my real swords from their scabbards. This wasn't a contest this
fight was deadly earnest right now and I wanted to win, because loosing
meant loosing more than just a little prestige, it meant loosing my life. I
weaved the Claw back and forth in front of me I a menacing pattern while the
assassin dropped his own weapons and drew those that were hanging in their
scabbards from his belt.

Now that we were both armed with real weapons that really could kill each
other we started to fight once more, but now we were using Kelmar blade
techniques that had been perfected through centuries of constant warfare.

 As I fought this assassin I looked around for the other three member of the
cell, since the Racteganect didn't operate alone. Then I spotted them making
their way through the crowd with their weapons already drawn and ready for
battle.

Just as they reached the boundary to the small square that I was fighting
their comrade in they were accosted by three Keepers, Misha with his
terrifying black axe, George with his new cutlass and dagger in his hands,
and Finbar with a pair of daggers in his hands.

The three assassins paused for only a second before they launched themselves
at their opponents in a high-speed narrelat fuelled frenzy.

I would've loved to give my friends a hand but unfortunately I already had
my hands full with my own opponent.

As we fought I quickly learned his deficiencies and worked to exploit them.
For some reason I was even quicker than he was even though he was on
narrelat, perhaps that was because the form that I had been gifted with by
the curse of Metamor Keep was that of a Snow Tiger, an animal that was
renowned in the Clanlands as being able to move like silver lightening.
Another reason was maybe because the narrelat in his veins was wearing off
and he was slowly coming back down to earth.

Whatever the cause of his lack of speed was I utilized it ruthlessly making
lightening fast jabs and feints at his body until he made a small mistake
and I took a full powered swing at the hole that that mistake had left in
his defences. The Claw sheared down through his chest from shoulder to hip.

With my opponent taken care of I flipped my heavy short sword around and
then heaved it at the man who was facing Finbar with a long-sword and a
dagger in his hand. By now Finbar was similarly armed with Misha's sword in
his right hand and a dagger in his left. The thrown short-sword embedded
itself into the assassin's side just below the ribs the man clutched at his
side with one hand leaving himself open for a thrown dagger and a slash to
the throat, though the slash was really just an afterthought since the
dagger penetrated the assassin's right eye and embedded itself in the man's
brain. I whirled and pulled one of my throwing knives out of its sheath and
threw it George's opponent. It struck the man in the back of the skull just
as George skilfully removed the head from the shoulders of the assassin.

Misha I looked at Misha who was standing with his axe grounded panting
slightly. His opponent was split in two from crown to groin from a massive
blow from Misha's black axe Whisper.

            "Misha now do you understand why I carry these weapons with me
even when I am here at the Keep?"

The fox slowly nodded his head. "These assassins can be really annoying."

            "You're telling me Misha. You're not the one who has to keep a
constant eye over his shoulder to see if there is an assassin back there
behind him." I replied as I knelt down with the Claw in my hand to remove
the thumb from the man who had tried to kill me.

            "But this will make me their enemy," the fox answered. "At least
they aren't as formidable as I had expected."

            "You had that monster of an axe to help you Misha. To people
that are limited to normal weapons in the Clanlands these assassins are the
deadliest things on two legs, the fact that almost no one survives their
attacks only makes them all that much more frightening."

Misha shook his head. "Axe or no axe I've been through far too much to be
frightened by a man with a knife. They all die just as fast when you cut
them in half."

I shook my head as I completed the operation and dropped the severed
appendage into one of my belt pouches before I cleaned off my sword and
stood up. "I know what you mean Misha, for some reason this man here wasn't
quite what I expected either."

            "What do you mean?" the fox asked. "What was wrong?"

            "The man I faced didn't seem to be all that skilled, or at least
he wasn't up to my level of skill. Nor was he as fast as I was expecting."

            "A second rate assassin? Why? Perhaps they are tired of you
killing all of their best ones?"

            "I've only killed a dozen of them so far in the past thirty
years."

            "Maybe it's not that they are getting worse but that you are
getting better," George commented calmly from where he was just standing up
from cleaning off his cutlass.

I shook my head before I replied; "I was getting close to the limit of my
skills when I left my homeland thirty years ago. After all back then I was a
Bladelord of the Bronze and there are only two more ranks of Bladelord that
I could possibly become, and usually there is only one Bladelord of the Gold
in a generation."

            "So?" the jackal answers. "That was thirty years ago. Trust me
you are a very skilled warrior."

            "Are you trying to tell me that you think that I could possibly
be a Bladelord of the Gold? That is something that I will never assume until
it is confirmed by a Kelmar Bladelord like myself."

            "The nearest Bladelord is thousands of leagues away." Misha
said. "Hard to find one closer."

I grinned at his comment as one of the judges of the contest came over to
where Misha, George, Finbar and I were standing and told me quite bluntly,

            "Sir I am afraid that since you drew your real swords you are
disqualified from this event. Please leave the square so that we can clean
up and continue with the contest."

Misha laughed. "He does have a point. You got blood all over the nice clean
duelling ring."

I looked at the mess and then joked. "Don't forget all the dismembered body
parts."

            "You really know how to have a wild time." Finbar comments
sarcastically.

I looked over at the ferret and rolled my eyes before I walked over to the
corpse that he had killed and tugged to get my short-sword out of the body.
"What did you think of that sword that you had to use Finbar?"

            "Nice, a well balanced and very sharp blade. But it's too long
for my liking. I prefer a shorter blade."

            "A short-sword like this one?" I asked him holding out the hilt
of my short-sword to him, as soon as I finished cleaning the blood off of
the blade with the dead assassin's cloak."

Finbar took the weapon from me and carefully swung it to check the balance
and weight. "Now THIS is the right size blade for me."

            "Would you like me to make you one like that?"

            "YES! But I don't have all the money that Misha has."

I nodded in understanding before I told him. "I can make a simple stock
blade for you that is made to a pattern, much cheaper to make since it isn't
really sized to fit you specifically. Instead it is designed to fit a wider
group of wielders, or I could quite possibly sell you one of my older blades
that I have in stock. Even though they are older they are still quite
serviceable and will serve anyone who buys them for many years to come."

            "I wouldn't mind an older blade, but I want to see it before I
buy it."

            "Of course. I wouldn't have it any other way Finbar. Tell you
what I am also going to give you a discount because of what you and Misha
have done for me today and in the past."

            "Good!" the ferret comments.

I grinned and went over to where George's former opponent was lying on the
ground in two pieces. I had to tug hard to get the knife out of the assassin
but it wouldn't budge. "Finbar can you come over to my forge in an hour and
I'll get you all set up with a sword for you."

            "Good! I'll be there." The ferret answered.

Finally I managed to get the throwing knife out of the skull with a crunch
of bone as I wrenched it out. I cleaned it off one the dead man's cloak
before I stood once again and slid it into its sheath behind my back.

            "How's about we all get a bite to eat?"

            "Good idea," George says stepping over the body. "I know of a
stand that is selling great chicken!"

            "How are their prices?"

            "Reasonable, but why should you worry. You and Misha have all
the money you'll ever need?"

            "I don't know, maybe because I believe in getting good value for
my money." I said as I stepped around the split assassin and then followed
George as he made his way away from the stands around the square towards the
venders' tents.

            "Great! I'm hungry!" Misha said out loud.

I swiftly nodded my own head in agreement as we all began to smell the
products of the chicken stand. At that moment Caroline and a female Pine
Marten joined us. I had recently seen her hanging around with Finbar so I
had assumed that she was his current romantic attraction.

Finbar looked up at me and then said in a serious tone of voice, "This is
Danielle the mage and fellow Long Scout."

I bowed my head to the pine marten and purred, "It's a pleasure to make you
acquaintance Danielle. My name is Adon Naharel, though most people around
here simply know me as Oberon."

She smiled and then curtsied to me before she replied, "I am pleased to meet
you honoured sir."

            "Now how about we get something to eat, my mouth is starting to
water." That much was true, and I didn't have an easy time keeping saliva
inside my mouth as the smells reached a small sensory organ on the roof of
my mouth.

            "Dinner will me served shortly." Misha commented. "The Duke does
serve a lot of good food." I licked my lips, trying futilely to keep my
slobber inside of my mouth. Instead I only succeeded in giving my friends a
full view of my fearsome teeth.

            "Lets not keep the ferocious tiger hungry for too long all
right." Caroline said jokingly.

            "Hahaha very funny Caroline. If you were as changed as I am you
would understand some of the problems that I have to face."

            "Unless you failed to notice I DID change, I'm an otter. I never
liked fish till the change."

            "At least you can eat cooked meat without stomach troubles. I
prefer my food only slightly cooked to raw." She shivered.

            "Yuck. At least I prefer my fish cooked!"

            "Trust me those cooked meat pies that I had yesterday didn't
treat me so well later on."

Misha shook his head. "Those meat pies were terrible. I hate to think of
exactly what type of meat was in them! If it WAS meat at all."

            "I think that they were made with beef, pork, venison, and
chicken. At least that is what my sense of taste and smell told me."

            "Just avoid those meat pies," Finbar warned. "They're worse than
our trail rations."

            "You don't have to tell me twice. Especially after I spent three
quarters of an hour in the latrines dealing with the after-affects of them."

            "Serves you right for eating those cheap meat pies," Misha
commented. "Stay away from those cheap vendors."

I nodded my head before I said ruefully, "That is probably why Guy exploded
so soon after he demolished one of them."

            "NO DETAILS!" Misha ordered. "None! We are going to have
dinner."

            "Are you going to be at the Duke's Feast tomorrow evening
Misha?"

            "Yes, We are all invited."

I shook my head before I said, "It will take me hours to get ready for it."
I flicked a dark patch of fur on my left arm that still retained some of my
black hunting dye. The dye hadn't come out during my last trip to the
bathhouse but I needed to make sure that it came out this time.

            "So? It will be you first chance to meet the Duke." Misha
explained.

I nodded before I grinned at him and commented, "I just hope that his guards
aren't overzealous that night. Otherwise I might not even get in."

            "You intend on carrying as many weapons as you can like usual?"
Misha asked. "Couldn't you limit yourself to a dozen?"

            "I plan on carrying three, four if you count the by-knife in the
same scabbard as the Claw. Other than the Claw I will carry a short-sword
and a dagger."

            "Only three?" Caroline answers. "Don't you ever carry just one?"

            "No. I always have at least three, unless I am having a bath."

            "I know I don't want to hear this answer but do you take a
weapon with you into the bath?" Finbar asked.

            "I usually bring a dagger with me, though I leave it on the
bench with my towel."

            "At least you don't take it into the bath with you." Finbar
commented

            "In the bath I have these." I held up my right hand and extended
all five two inch claws from my fingertips."

            "Why bother with the sword at all. Those make a perfect weapon.
And you can never lose them."

            "I like my swords, and they mark my status as a Kelmar Warrior.
No peasant carries a weapon like these back home in my homeland."

Misha chuckled. Never underestimate a peasant. A peasant with a simple spear
can be deadly."

"A group of peasants armed with spears and pitchforks coming up against a
trained force of Warriors with swords and armour will almost always lose."

            "But a group of warriors who are too proud for their own good
can simply charge straight at the spears and get impaled." Misha explained.
"I've seen knights do that more than once."

            "Those knights were foolish and stupid, not taking advantage of
their mobility, armour, and weapons."

            "Never underestimate anyone."

            "I have seen that before back home. During the Clan Wars there
was an engagement where out opponent underestimated our forces. He had his
forces charge our main force, or rather our ruse we were able to surround
and annihilate them to the last man."

Misha smiled, baring a lot of teeth. "The stupid die fast in battle."

I chuckled as we arrived at the chicken booth and George walked up to the
vendor. "I was in charge of that battle, and I knew my enemy so I knew that
I could get away with that ruse."

Misha chuckled. "That was an easy victory."

            "I will take any victory, even one so cheaply won as that."

            "Me too." Finbar added. "Any tactic that works is fine with me."


I nodded and then stepped up to the counter and sniffed before I asked the
vendor, "Can I have some pieces that you just put on the fire?"

            "It's still raw!" The vendor answered. "You don't mind?"

            "If it's a little raw I don't mind. In fact well cooked meat
doesn't really agree with my system any more."

            "All right. As long as you don't want the meat still moving." He
joked as he handed me a large pile of meat on a wooden platter.

            "I've had a few times when my meat was still warm when I began
to eat, as in really fresh."

The man waved his hand.

            "I don't want to know." Misha shook his head." I like fresh meat
but that is TOO fresh for my liking."

I chuckled at Misha's comment and then turned my attention to the pile of
slightly warm meat on my platter.

Caroline and Misha both sat down near me with their own chicken, which was
well cooked. "I like being a fox, but I draw the line at raw meat." Misha
pointed out.

            Don't you ever hunt in your full form Misha?" I asked him after
I finished my second piece of chicken.

            "No. I do too much hunting as a Long to do more in my leisure
time."

            "You should try it some time, I intend to after this Festival is
over."

            "Hunting as a fox?" Misha asked. "I prefer to stay in town and
have my food brought to me."

            "Misha haven't you ever tried it. You might never know you might
enjoy it."

The fox shook his head. "No I really have never gotten to like the taste of
rats and mice. YUCK!"

            "You should spend a few days with me out there, and I promise
that there will be more to eat than rats and mice."

Misha looked dubious at me. "I prefer to stay home."

            "Oh all right, but I could probably show even you a few things
about being an animal."

            "I don't doubt it. You really have taken to being a tiger very
well."

            "I had some help." I said in a manner that told all of them that
I was in no mood for them to probe more deeply. As soon as I had said that I
focussed my attention on demolishing the rest of the chicken on the platter
in front of me. The sounds that emanated from my feeding were definitely not
the most civilized in the clearing where the lunch tables had been set up.

            "Help from what?" Misha asked curiously.

I looked at him with the cold blue eyes that my soul guide had given me when
we had merged and in a glacially cold tone of voice told him. "That is
really none of your business."

Misha stepped back "All right. Everyone is entitled tot his own private
life."

I nodded my head, stood up and told all of my friends that I had some things
to attend to in my forge.

            Within ten minutes I was back in my own private place where I
began to pull out things to get ready for the next day.
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