[Mkguild] Plain and Simple part 3

[Chris]

   George and Misha made their way slowly through the hallways and
corridors of Metamor. The old bandit took a close interest in every
person they passed especially all the animal morphs.

   “Is there any limits to the species?” George asked as they passed a
female zebra walking with a pair of human looking children.

   Misha shook his head. “No. Any species is possible including griffons
and several that no one has seen except in old stories and legends from
far distant lands. And at least a dozen are thought to be extinct in the
wild.”

   “Where does the curse get it’s power from?” George asked.

   “The Keep itself rests on a powerful magical nexus,” Misha explained.
“Basically it’s a natural magic source. Somehow the curse has become
intertwined with it and the Keep itself.”

   “Somehow?” George asked sarcastically as he dodged a fast moving
servant headed in the opposite direction. “Meaning the mages have no
clue what happened.”

   Misha gave a yip of laughter and wagged his bushy tail in delight.
“Correct. Seriously though from what little I know of magic it might
take them a century or more to fully understand what happened. Right now
all they can do is make guesses.”

   The fox stopped in front of a door. It was a plain wooden door with
writing on it that George recognized. It read “Misha Brightleaf.”

   “You live that close to the Duke?” George asked.

   “No,” the fox explained and rested a had on the door knob. “Remember
that Metamor is magical and the interior moves around almost
constantly.”

   “How do you find your way in a building that is always moving?”
George asked shaking his head..

   “You don’t. You just picture in your mind where you want to go and
start walking. Soon enough you arrive.”

  George looked at him dubiously. “That makes no sense,” the bandit
commented.

   “I know but it works.”

   “Fair enough. That’s what matters.”

   Misha nodded and opened the door. “You’ll get used to it soon enough.
It took me a few days at first. And this is what I call home!” he
exclaimed and stepped through the door.

   The room was surprisingly large. George had expected Misha’s room to
be like most rooms he had seen in castles and fortresses; small, cramped
and cold. This one was huge with a bed large enough for two people, a
desk, a good sized table, several cabinets and even a fireplace.

   The old bandit spied a door set in one wall and opening it he saw a
small but well stocked workshop which shared the fireplace with the
first room.

   “I’m impressed,” George commented as he looked around.

   “Where did you think I was living? A hole in the ground?” Misha
picked up a small bell that was sitting on his desk and rang it. “Make
yourself comfortable. I’ll get us both a meal and we can plan our little
outing.”

   There was a soft knock on the door and a young girl of about fourteen
entered. “Sir,” she said softly.

   “Dinner for two,” the fox ordered. “Veal, vegetables, bread and ale.”

   “And wine!” George added.

   “Lots of wine,” Misha finished.

   The girl left as quietly as she had arrived.

   “All this and a servant too?” the man kidded.

   “That girl is a page in the Duke’s service. She probably rides better
then you and me,” Misha explained. The fox made his way to a cabinet and
pulled out a bottle and some cups.

   “Women knights?” George said. “I didn’t think Thomas was that open.”

   The vulpine nodded in response and placed the bottle of wine and the
two cups on the table. “The curse changed the gender of one in three at
the Keep. It’s hard to be biased against a woman when SHE was once a HE
and is better with a sword and lance than you are.”

   “How are people handling the changes?” George asked.

   Misha shrugged. “Mixed. Some love it, others hate it. The rest are
somewhere in between. Everyone is coping with it.”

   “And you?” George asked.

   Misha opened the wine and poured some into both cups. “I love it! You
can’t imagine what it’s like. I have my human mind combined with a fox’s
superb senses. I even have a fox’s bite.” He pulled back his lips
revealing a muzzle full of long, sharp teeth.

   “Do you chew on a bone to keep those clean and sharp?” George
commented laconically as he picked up one of the cups.

   Misha didn’t speak but bared his sharp teeth and snapped them
together.

   George sipped the wine slowly. “Nice.” He nodded his head. “Good
vintage. Where is it from?”

   “From the Giantdowns,” the fox explained.

   “I thought there were only Lutins in the north?” the old bandit asked
as he sipped more wine.

   “Most of it belongs to the Lutins but there are quite a few human
settlements up there too. Unfortunately all of them belong to Nasoj at
the moment.”

   George held up the bottle of wine. “And how did this get here?”

   “Smuggled of course. Every so often a few merchants wander into one
of the villages north of here with goods to trade. At least that’s what
the villagers claim.” Misha gave a short bark of laughter. “There’s
always been some form of smuggling and trade going on with the Lutins.
Even during the days of the Seuliman.” The fox shook his head. “But not
lately. The only Lutins coming here have been raiders not traders.”

   “Why barter for what you can steal,” George said between sips of
wine. “What is it like here? What do I have to work with?”

   The fox scout took a large, rolled up piece of parchment from his
desk. “There are some good people here George. They’ve been fighting the
Lutins for centuries and they’re good at it. What they need is
organization and good leadership. Most of the good leaders were killed
during the siege and we’ve just never recovered.” He unrolled it onto
the table between them revealing a large, very detailed map.

   “This is Metamor Pass.” Misha explained. “The valley is about twenty
miles long. The width varies from several miles to less then half a mile
here at the Keep. The southern part of the valley is pretty safe. But
north of the Keep is pretty wild and dangerous. Few settlements and
those that there are seem to be constantly under attack by raiders. The
raiders themselves are mostly Lutins backed by some humans.”

   George traced his finger along a line at the northern mouth of the
valley. “What’s this?”

   “Giants Dike,” Misha answered. “The remains of the old Seuilman
wall.”

   The bandit took a drink of wine. “Anything left?”

   “Nothing but a few ditches and some piles of stone. Nothing we can
use.”

   “Shame. A nice tall wall would be easy to defend.”

   Misha nodded. “I doubt the Duke would have enough people to man
something that long,” the vulpine scout commented. “It took the empire
two full legions and what the Duke has isn’t even equal to half a
legion.”

   “There are just a handful of nobles left north of the Keep. On the
west side is Lord Barnhardt. He has a good sized castle built on a lake
and three or four small villages,” Misha explained. “None are very large
and all have been raided at least a half dozen times. One, Glen Avery
has been hit so many times they’ve given up on regular buildings.
They’ve dug the whole town into the ground like a badger hole.”

   “Makes sense. Can’t burn dirt!” George commented and nodded his head.

   The fox tapped the map of one side. “On the east side we have Lord
Cybury of Mycransburg. They were hit very hard during Nasoj’s last
attack and they still haven’t really recovered.”

   He placed his finger on the map just above the Keep. “Directly north
of the Keep we have Tarrelton at the crossroads. It’s only a dozen
houses surrounded by a palisade plus a tumbled down, old Seuliman
tower.”

   “They haven’t been hit,” George said. It was a statement not a
question. “Too close to the keep. Barely an hour’s walk. Cavalry can
cover that in a few minutes and slaughter any raiders.”

   The vulpine nodded in agreement. “They’ve had some sheep and cattle
thefts,” the fox added. “But nothing worse.”

   “In some places cattle stealing is a local hobby,” George commented.
“You’re not considered a man till you’ve stolen someone’s cattle.”

   “Except here they kill the cattle herder instead of just beating them
up.”

   George tapped a small green square with a red x through it that was
just to the south of the Giants Dike. “And this is?”

   “That WAS a small outpost castle. It was razed to the ground during
Nasoj’s last attack and they haven’t rebuilt it.”

   “Why?” George asked coldly.

   Misha shrugged. “I’ve no idea but things have been pretty unsettled
since the curse took hold. And Nasoj really devastated the whole
valley.”

   The man shook his head vigorously. “No excuse. That place controls
half the valley mouth. From there we can stop raiders before they can
get anywhere near the towns and villages.”

  The fox snarled softly and shook his head. “I’ve made those
suggestions already and all I get in response is that I go back to
killing Lutins and leave strategy to people who know what they are
doing.”

   “I see your reputation with that axe of yours is still as bloody as
before. She’ll be the death of you yet.”

   “SHE,” Misha commented angrily, “has kept me alive all this time.”

   “And left most people thinking you’re an axe-wielding manic,” George
added calmly.

   “I’m just one voice, George,” Misha answered softly. “I can only do
so much. I need someone with your leadership skills and respect.”

   “Respect?”

   “George, you are a natural leader. When you speak people listen,”
Misha explained and poked his friend in the chest with an outstretched
finger. “Even Thomas recognized that and he only met you for a few
minutes.”

   George smiled at the compliment. “What’s Thomas like?” he asked in
return.

   Misha shrugged in response. “Decent but he definitely is no military
genius and he certainly has no idea how to command scouts. But he does
at least have the sense to recognize his limitations. He agrees with me
that we need to organize the scouts.”

   “He just doesn’t want you leading them?” George added.

   The vulpine nodded his head in response. “I’m a good scout but this
task is far beyond my skills George. I’ve never led an army or held the
post of commander of scouts. You’ve led armies and taken cities.”

   “Don’t belittle your own skills Misha. You’ll make a good leader
someday,” George countered.

   “Just not now,” the fox replied.

   George ran a finger around a large green patch on the map that filled
the entire northeastern part of the valley above Mycransburg. In the
middle of it was a large red skull.

   “That is Haunted Wood,” Misha said, answering the mans unasked
question. “And yes it really is haunted. Most of it is plain forest but
the center holds the remains of a Seuilman fortress and that place IS
haunted. I’ve been there and it would scare anyone.”

   The man looked dubiously at his old friend.

   “I’ve seen and heard them myself George and I’m certain that the
Seuilman left something behind. Something very nasty.”

   “Any clues to what? I’ve seen some of the nasty things the empire has
left behind,” George asked as he settled down into a seat. “And other
things that some stupid mage summoned.”

   Misha shrugged. “No idea and I’m not in the mood to get close enough
to find out more. The wizards here haven’t really studied the problem
but they do say that it’s strictly confined to the ruins and the woods
surrounding it. I know the locals and the Lutins avoid the place,
especially at night. Unfortunately the forest doesn’t go all the way to
the valley wall and they can easily get around it.”

   George nodded. “Still it does help us. It means less area to patrol.”

   The fox nodded in agreement. “Someday we’ll have to do something
about that but for the moment we can ignore it and concentrate on
Nasoj.”

   “Not ignore,” George countered. “For the moment it’s a lesser threat
but we can never really ignore.”

   “Of course,” Misha answered, “but when the house is burning down it’s
hard to worry about the termites eating through the floorboards.”

   The elder scout laughed. “And what if the floor collapses while
you’re trying to put out the fire?  And if you do put out the fire the
termites will still be there.”

   “I understand but that doesn’t change the fact that Nasoj and the
Lutins are our biggest threat.”

   The old bandit nodded in agreement. “Any threats from the south?”

   Misha shook his head. “No. Most of the people just south of the
valley are loyal to the Duke. Besides most people outside the valley are
terrified of the curse and won’t come near the valley.”

   The old bandit smiled. “The curse does have it’s good side. But I bet
that will change with time. The curse doesn’t scare the Lutins?”

   “Unfortunately Lutins are immune to it,” Misha answered. “Only human
folk are effected.”

   “Shame. A little fear can go a long way to helping us win,” George
answered shaking his head. “And nothing scares better then a fear of the
unknown.”

   The fox scout shrugged. “The Lutins weren’t frightened by the empire
centuries ago so why should a little magic stop them.” He ran his hands
across the map in a giant sweeping motion. “Remember they conquered all
of the Midlands.”

   “A lot of folks in the Midlands don’t remember that but I do,” George
said and sipped his wine.

   “The Lutins have been raiding into the valley for centuries,” Misha
commented. “They have the tactics worked out very well. The only thing
stopping them is the Keepers. The curse has made it both harder and
easier to defend the valley. A lutin might not be afraid a man with a
spear but they’ll bolt in fear when faced with a lion!”

   “Strip,” George ordered suddenly.

   “Excuse me?” Misha asked calmly. “Don’t I even get dinner first?” he
joked.

   “If I’m going to become fuzzy like you I want to see what I’m going
to get and you are my only example,” George explained.

   “The keep is full of furries like me George,” the fox countered.

   “But the only one I’ve seen nude is you,” the man explained pointing
a finger at Misha.

   “Not voluntarily. I surrendered honorably and you stripped me naked.”

   George laughed. “It was the only way I could keep you from trying to
escape again. And no one touched you did they?”

   Misha took off his shirt and dropped it onto the back of a chair.
“True. You always respected a person’s body. No one can ever accuse you
of rape.” His pants soon joined the shirt on the chair and Misha was now
only clad in cotton breeches that barely covered his genitals.

   George looked his friend over like he was eyeing a horse before
purchase. “You’re a lot thinner but you’ve lost none of your muscle
tone.”

   “I lost close to seventy pounds,” Misha explained. “This is my
balanced weight now. Any more and it just turns to wasted fat.”

   George walked up to the morph and placed his hand on the vulpine’s
head, “You’re shorter too. By more then a full hand span.”

   Misha nodded in agreement. “Foxes are naturally small.”

   “Does that mean the larger species are bigger?”

   “Oh yes! The medium sized species like wolves are normal sized but
the larger species wind up bigger. We have an elephant here who is
almost three times my height and a rat that’s a full head shorter then
me.”

   “I also see a few new scars,” George commented.

   Misha nodded. “Lutins excel at fighting.”

   There was a soft knock at the door and the page returned carrying a
tray filled with platters of food. Behind her was another page, this one
a boy carrying two bottles of wine and a jug of ale.

   The girl’s eyes widened slightly at the sight of the almost nude,
male fox but she showed no other reaction. The two pages laid out the
food and drink as Misha and George waited silently.

   Misha reached for the pouch on his belt before he remembered he
wasn’t wearing his belt, pouch or anything else. He fumbled for several
moments with the pile of clothes on the chair before producing a handful
of coins.

   The fox tossed a gold coin to each of the pages. “Thank you Cindy,
Brian.”

   The boy left quickly but the girl paused at the door and looked at
Misha for a moment, her eyes taking in the fox’s seminude form. She
smiled, then blushed from ear to ear and hurriedly left the room.

   George laughed. “No wonder you get such good service if you give the
women such a free show.”

   Misha gave a bark of laughter and quickly pulled his pants and shirt
back on. “That was my only performance.”

   “Are you always so free with your gold?”

   “Thomas pays me five gold,” Misha said displaying all the fingers of
his left hand, “for each dead lutin. And my normal pay is twice that
each week.”

   The old bandit grinned broadly. “I’m going to like this horse lord.”

   All further discussion ended as they started to eat. They enjoyed the
meal even if they did have to order more wine. Twice.

End part 3

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