[Mkguild] Two for the Price of One. Part 3 of 4

[Kamau]

AUTHOR'S NOTE:
It took far less time to do the rework I found necessary after the chat 
on #MKGuild the other night.  There will be a small change to part 2 as 
well but that will be done when the story is sent up to the web site.

Enjoy part 3
----------

Two for the price of One - Part 3

Before sunrise Rorlyn was up and found the master mage working on a 
series of lines about where the vine covered body of Jay lay.  It was 
obvious from the amount of growth overnight that they were being fed by 
some magical force and not by sunlight alone.  As Master Jesse finished 
the last line he turned to the younger mage.

"All is ready," he said brushing the last of the colored earth from his 
hands. "I would like to do this just after dawn so that the natural side 
of the plant has its own strength."

"What can I do to help," the feline asked.

"The spell is not one of strength but more of intricate manipulation," 
he replied as he thoughtfully stroked his beard. "I will need to weave 
the threads of my spell within that which the potion has produced.  Once 
I have them in place I will then need to tie them to Jay's mind so his 
conscience can flow out into those threads and remain a part of the 
plant once his body is gone."

"That sounds like a very complex casting Master," Rorlyn commented as he 
considered the speed and skill needed for such a thing.

"Rorlyn, you don't need to be so formal while we are in this setting," 
the mage said with a smile. "Jesse is fine unless we are among others. 
I have a question for you while we wait for the dawn."

"I will answer as best as I can," the leonine morph answered.

"What manner of magic did you use on the Lutins during the battle?"

The feline mage gave Jesse a puzzled look as he considered the question 
and his answer.

"I've never truly considered classifying it.  Certainly arcane magic, 
not rune or divine magic.  What I cast is that which was taught to me by 
my Master."

"Have you embellished it yourself?"

"In some small ways," the lion mage nervously replied, not sure if he 
had violated some code he was unaware of by this. "I did follow some of 
my Master's aggrandizements as I recalled them.  Mostly to refine the 
control of the spell, their strength stems from what I apply to them."

"For a mage as young as yourself you have been able to tap very strongly 
into the magic then.  Either that or you draw from another source as 
well.  Tell me have you ever heard of Ethereal magic?"

"Yes, my master spoke of it often but never formally trained me in it. 
He said it was as dangerous as it was powerful.  While he never admitted 
it I believe he may have used it some himself."

"Perhaps you are not formally trained but you may have found ways to tap 
its power.  The destruction you caused in the midst of the pass should 
have rendered the caster unconscious if not killed you yet I am told you 
fought on after that.  Not only that but your protective medallion which 
feeds off your own magic absorbed several of the mages spells and yet 
did not fail completely."

"I'm afraid I don't understand," Rorlyn said shaking his head. "It was 
only an energeya spell that I applied more force to."

"Yes, exactly.  That spell would lend itself to enhancement from an 
elemental source.  We will need to speak more on that later.  I have one 
last question for you however."

"What is that?"

"How long have you been in the valley?"

"We only arrived here yesterday morning," the leonine mage answered.

"No, how long have you been in Metamor?"

The question jolted Rorlyn for a moment.  He pondered if this might have 
some bearing on spells he had cast.  Did the length of time someone had 
been cursed affect their magic?

"It's been a couple of years," Rorlyn replied giving his standard answer.

"No lad, I know that is not true," Jesse said eyeing the feline 
intently. "Despite your appearance you have not been taken by the curse. 
  You know how long it takes for the curse to claim people I'm sure. 
Now how long?"

"About ten days counting today," he answered lowly as shame filled him 
at the discovery of his deception. "How did you know?  No one has ever 
seen through the spell I crafted to protect me from the curse."

"Perhaps that is because no one had need to examine you closely as I 
did.  You know there is no protection from the curse," Jesse told him 
firmly. "Simply looking like a Keeper will not protect you."

"But you are unchanged," the feline countered. "What spell have you used 
to protect yourself?"

"You are mistaken," the Master Mage told him. "Recall the curse can 
result in three changes.  My change was the same that befell the one you 
call Kate save that I became a man."

For a moment the lion morph simply stared at the man who stood before 
him, trying to force his mind to accept what he knew had to be true.

"Come," Jesse said before the feline could ask more questions. "It is 
time to cast the spell."

The pair of mages moved to the edge of the circle and Master Jesse gave 
orders to those who were near to stand clear.

"Open your mage sight and watch what I am to do," he instructed. "but do 
not disturb me until I complete the casting."

Rorlyn nodded and as in the battle he expanded his vision to include the 
lines of magic that ran everywhere for those who knew how to see them. 
As he looked at the circle he could see a number of magical cord 
swirling about like eels in a current.  Looking down at Jay it was clear 
that the potion was working strongly upon his body.  Even more tightly 
then the vines, cords of magic wove over his body some pulsing with a 
strange energy he had never seen before.  Master Jesse entered a smaller 
circle that intersected the larger one.  With a few broad gestures the 
mage brought this circle to life and was soon engulfed in a wall of 
magic.  Where they met the circles opened to one another.  The mage 
reached through this opening and began pulling a thread from the wall. 
He guided this thread downward until it entered the web about Jay's 
body.  With great care Jesse guided it until it began snaking its way 
through the tangle of cords formed by the potion.  As it came to the 
antelope's head it slid under the cords there not reemerging.  As soon 
as this was done another cord began doing the same thing slowly working 
its way toward the Keeper's head.

Looking at Jesse he could see the mage himself had a number of magical 
threads streaming off his body and into the far reaches of the woods. 
About his lower body there appeared to be a coil of these same magic 
cords that twisted and spun like a pod of eels.  Rorlyn returned his 
gaze to Jay's transforming body and saw that the master mage had added 
several more threads to his ever growing web.

Suddenly something caught his attention to the side near the edge of the 
circle.  Several vines from the mage who had first fallen to the potion 
were inching toward the circle.  As the nearest drew within a pace of 
the magic wall a tendril like cord of magic reached out and attached 
itself to the side.  Immediately one of the cords within slid down and 
connected to it soon to disappear.  Rorlyn knew he had to stop this but 
also knew that to use a spell could disrupt the work Jesse was doing. 
He glanced about for a weapon that he might use to cut the vine but 
instead saw Cal standing not far away.

"Cal!" he cried out to the lupine warrior. "Here, hurry!  Cut that vine."

For a moment the rabbit stared trying to make sense of the mage's 
command.  To his untrained eyes the vine was still a distance from the 
circle.

"Cal, now!" the lion commanded, pointing to the vine. "It's draining the 
magic Master Jesse needs to save Jay."

These words jolted the small warrior into action.  Seconds later the 
rabbit's glave severed the vine from the larger mass and the threat to 
the circle ceased.

"What was that all about?" Cal asked looking at the remnants of the vine 
as it curled up like a wounded snake.

"I don't know but it was drawing off magic from the circle wall," the 
lion morph explained. "Keep an eye on it and if any other part comes 
near hack it off."

The young mage returned his gaze to the Master at work.  The new web was 
growing thicker with every moment and there appeared to be some 
interplay of lights between it and the one woven by the vines. 
Tirelessly the blond bearded mage worked drawing cord after cord of 
magic from the wall and adding it to his weave until the last thread was 
gone and only a translucent wall remained above the circle.  Then 
drawing his hands close to his body Jesse closed the smaller circle and 
stepped free from it.  Moments later the large circle faded from both 
mage's sight.

"It is done," Jesse said to Rorlyn. "I only pray that it will work."

"How will we know?" the young mage asked.

"We may never know," the Master replied wiping his brow. "There was 
nothing I could add to the spell to assure he will be able to speak to us."

"Won't that be worse then death?" Cal asked having overheard the 
conversation. "To be alive but trapped as a plant alone out here, it's 
like torture."

"That is why I propose that he be brought back to the town and placed 
where others may at least speak to him," the bearded mage told the 
rabbit warrior. "In time he may be able to speak or we may be able to 
give him that ability.  Only time will tell."

"Something happen while you were casting the spell," Rorlyn told Jesse 
as he turned back toward him. "The vines from the enemy mage attempted 
to drain the magic within the circle."

"I felt a disturbance but had to keep my focus," the human mage said. "I 
assume you were able to stop it."

"Yes, Cal cut the vines that were near the circle," he explained. "It 
appeared the magic could not be tapped without the vines being close by."

"What did they look like?" Master Jesse asked.

"The vines were no different then any other part of the plant save they 
moved more quickly," the lion mage continued. "That which touched the 
circle was simply more cords of magic that braded themselves into a 
larger cord.  That is what attracted and fed on the threads within the 
circle wall."

"Most interesting," Jesse said walking to the fallen mage, now little 
more then a mass of interwoven vines. "You took a great many secrets 
with you.  Even your name remains hidden to us."

"If it's important I can ask the other scouts if they heard anyone call 
him by name in the battle," Rorlyn offered.

"Any additional information beyond what you told me yesterday will be 
helpful," the blond bearded mage replied. "Did you break your fast 
before coming to the circle?"

"No, I never gave it a thought," the lion morph acknowledged.

"Nor did I," Jesse added. "Let us go and see what food might be available."

Moving back to where the fire had been they found most of the scouts and 
several guards readying their packs for travel.

"Is there anything left from breakfast?" Jesse asked.

"Over there," one of the guardsman answered pointing to some bread and 
cheese.

"Thank you," the mage replied drawing his knife and cutting a slice off 
the remaining wedge. "Rorlyn, what will you have?"

"I've some jerky in my pack," he told the other mage. "That will do well 
enough for me."

"Yes, meat is the core of the feline diet," the bearded man said with a 
slight laugh. "Once you've taken your meats I'd like to speak with you 
more.  Perhaps we can walk together on the way back to Mycransburg."

The lion mage nodded and moved to where his pack lay.

As he removed a strip of jerky he heard a voice from behind him.

"There's a couple of people who would like to talk to you," said a voice 
he recognized as that of Gina.

"Is Kate awake then?" he asked closing up his pack and turning toward her.

"Yes," the healer replied, her smile revealing her sizable front teeth. 
"As well as Ed and Dan."

"Dan?" the young mage questioned.

"Yes, his head wound was a bit more then we first thought.  He's still 
very groggy but wanted to speak to you," she told him. "Come."

The two made their way to where three litters were laid on the ground, 
each bearing a familiar form.

"Good to see you Rorlyn," called the bear that lay on the first litter. 
"I don't know if anyone else has done so but I want to thank you for 
saving us."

"Saving you?" the mage replied, whiskers straight in surprise. "What do 
you mean?"

"There is no way we could have survived an attack from that many Lutins 
and a mage," Dan said from next to the bear. "If it had not been for 
your barrage of spells we all surely would have been killed."

"Yes, I for one want to apologize for doubting your ability as a mage," 
Ed added. "And I'm sure that's true for everyone else."

"But if it wasn't for Cal I would have died as well," Rorlyn objected. 
"He's the real hero."

"No, and he told me what you did," Dan rebuked him. "That you were about 
to use whatever you had left even as that mage was about to kill you. 
He may have struck the killing blow but you were the one that had 
reduced him to where he could do so."

"That was simply luck," the feline mage replied. "If his weapon had not 
been charged by the spell I threw at him earlier the mage's spell would 
have taken him too.  I did not create that on his weapon with any 
purpose in mind."

"Luck is a part of any battle," the boy said cutting him off. "But that 
you had drained so much of his power and distracted him was not luck. 
It allowed the team work that enabled us to win the day."

The lion morph felt his ears warm in embarrassment.  Had he really done 
so well in this battle?  He doubted it but still all they said was true.

"Thank you," he finally said. "I just did what I felt needed to be done."

"You did far more," a new voice joined in that drew the feline's full 
attention. "You acted in a way that showed you to be a true warrior."

"Kate!" the lion mage gasped moving to her side. "You're awake."

"Yes, thanks to you," she said in a weak but clear voice. "You kept your 
head about you even as we were overrun.  You knew just who to take out 
and how to aid each of us.  There is no battle mage in all of Metamor 
that could have done better."

The lion's ears flushed again from these words of praise.  He winced 
from the pain in his leg as he knelt down next to her.

"And I know of no other female warrior that could have done as much as 
you did in that battle," he replied then asked. "And how are you feeling 
today?"

"Sore, very sore," she answered. "Still considering I took a mace to the 
chest I'm just lucky to be alive."

"That is Gina's work," the lion told her as he stroked her hair.

"That and a certain lion staying by my side," she said her eyes beaming 
with appreciation. "She told me you wouldn't leave until you knew I was 
safe."

"I was simply returning the kindness you had shown me," the mage 
replied. "Besides I still need someone to train me with my staff."

"That will have to wait a few weeks," Gina's voice broke in. "And it 
would be best if she were allowed to rest for now."

"Certainly," Rorlyn said looking down at the female warrior. "I'll see 
you when we get to the town."

He gave her hand a gentle squeeze and stood slowly, his leg trembling as 
he did so.

"Your leg is causing you some trouble this morning," Gina said to him. 
"May I look at it?"

"It's really nothing," the feline told her. "Just sore from where the 
mage struck me with his staff."

"Let's see," the gopher said bending down even before he replied.

After she had examined it for a moment she stood and went to her pack.

"I'm going to spread this on your leg," she told the lion. "And I want 
you to drink something to ease the pain as well."

"Oh," Rorlyn exclaimed as the salve reached his skin. "That burns."

"For a moment," Gina said as she picked up a small bottle and poured it 
into a tankard. "but soon it will bring a soothing warmth to the leg."

She filled the rest of the tankard with water and handed it to the feline.

"Drink that," she ordered. "It will also help to ease the pain."

"Why all the fuss over a sore leg?" the mage asked.

"That sore leg was nearly broken," she replied. "Undoubtedly that mage's 
staff was enchanted to enhance its damage.  You are lucky still to be 
standing."

Silently Rorlyn once again thanked his medallion for protecting him.  He 
wondered if he would be able to modify or recreate his Master's work so 
that it would not drain his own strength.  His thoughts however were 
interrupted by a shout that echoed throughout the camp.

"Company, we move out in ten minutes," barked Sean's voice.

Rorlyn quickly downed the bitter liquid and picked up his pack.  Looking 
down to where Jesse had preformed the spell earlier that day he saw a 
dozen of the town's guards stationed.  Some were working under the 
direction of Jesse on clearing the ground between the enemy mage and the 
fallen Keeper.  The lion mage made his way to the master's side to see 
what was happening.

"After what you saw earlier today I thought it would be prudent to be 
certain the vine could not reach Jay again," the mage explained. "I've 
also had them flush the ground again in case any remains of the potion 
allowed the vine to move more freely in his direction."

"Do you think the mage is in control of the vines?" Rorlyn asked.

"Perhaps," he replied. "You did say a victim would still be conscious 
for three or four days.  A skilled mage might be able to control the 
vine before his mind was absorbed by the plant."

"Will simply clearing the dirt prevent that?"

"No," the mage said with a shake of his head. "But it will allow them to 
see it move in his direction.  Should it begin to cross the bare ground 
they can cut it as your friend did."

Just then the order was given to form up for the march back to 
Mycransburg.  As the guard assembled Sean came to Master Jesse.

"We received word from one of our night flyers that Lord Avery's scouts 
have intercepted the remainder of the Lutins," he reported. "What little 
is left of them is being pursued to the north so we should be free to 
return."

"Night flyers?" Rorlyn questioned.

"Yes," the weasel commander told him. "We're lucky to have some owl and 
bat Keepers who can patrol at night."

"That is good news," the mage agreed. "Is there word as to what their 
ultimate goal was?"

"No, but seeing that this force was moving in our direction I would say 
Mycransburg was likely their target," the weasel stated firmly. "The 
mage's presence only strengthens my belief in that."

"But a force of sixty Lutins and a single mage against a fortified town 
such as ours; they were far too few to cause great harm," the human mage 
said stroking his long beard and looking in the direction of the enemy 
mage. "There was something more, something deeper going on here."

The command to march ended their conversation and the two mages joined 
the guardsmen who formed up to return home.  As they began to move Jesse 
and Rorlyn took their places near the midst of the formation while the 
other members of the patrol walked close by their wounded friends being 
carried on the litters.  In about an hour they came to a road leading to 
the south and to Mycransburg.  As they traveled the two mages conversed 
on a variety of topics, ranging from magic usage to Rorlyn's home and 
his future as a mage.

It was mid afternoon when they broke out of the forest not far from the 
eastern mountains.  Before them lay a plain that was covered with fields 
and cattle grazing.  Above this was a plateau that seemed carved from 
the mountain itself.  Its granite sides sloped steeply upward to a flat 
surface which itself gently rose toward the rugged mountain behind.  At 
various points waterfalls sprang out of the steep sides of the plateau. 
  These joined together at the base and formed a stream that flowed to 
the south.  A massive gate and tower were at the foremost part of the 
plateau, like a man might stand on the prow of a ship guiding it through 
uncertain waters.  From them spread out a wall with bastions every 
seventy or so paces.  The lion could also make out remnants of another 
wall in places but by their size they most certainly were from another age.

As they came closer and turned onto the road that snaked its way to the 
main gate Rorlyn could see that the gate and the tower were certainly 
not from the same builder.  The gate with its two protecting turrets was 
finely build of well fitted stone and parts were still faced with marble 
and carvings.

As they turned the second of the bends in the serpentine path the 
defenses became more visible.  The turrets left no doubt that anyone 
storming this place would pay a heavy price as they reached a good sixty 
or more feet into the sky.  The sides were covered with arrow slots on 
four different levels.  Above the gate themselves a huge ballista was 
mounted that most certainly would have laid waste to any machine 
designed to breach the defenses.

Making the last turn the road now went straight into the gates over a 
drawbridge that was at least thirty paces long.  Rorlyn now had a good 
view of the tower that stood to the left of the gate.  It appeared to be 
a solid structure with walls that ascended another twenty foot higher 
then the turrets of the gate.  The walls were course with none of the 
fineness of the gate it sat beside.  It was simply a tool of war and 
built accordingly.  Each corner had a smaller turret on which he could 
see men standing watch.  The highest of these was where the wall met the 
gate itself.  This towered some thirty feet above the gate's own turret.

"Impressed?" Jesse asked breaking the lion out of his gaze.

"Ah, yes," he stammered as he turned to face Jesse. "Not as fine as 
Metamor but I'd say a good defense none the less."

"While scarred over the years Metamor has never had its walls razed to 
the ground," Sean's voice broke in. "When Nasoj was done with us there 
was hardly one stone left on another."

The weasel gestured to the wall on the right of the gate.  Rorlyn could 
see that this was certainly of the same construction as the gate but it 
ended in a ragged edge just beyond one of the cruder bastions that 
appeared to be built over it.

"The anger he unleashed on us may well be the only reason Metamor 
survived," Jesse added. "Had he been satisfied with our defeat and 
released the troops he used to destroy our city the outcome might have 
been different at Three Gates."

As they passed within the gates the leonine mage was again impressed at 
the defenses of the city.  Once inside Sean excused himself to make his 
report to the Mayor of Mycransburg.  Jesse led Rorlyn down what appeared 
to be the main street.

"I have one errand to run before we go home," he told the lion morph. 
"Will you be able to manage a few more minutes of walking."

"Yes," the young mage replied. "I won't deny I'm sore but I can keep going."

Soon they were in the midst of the market place with stalls and shops 
lining each side of the street.  If the lion had not known better he 
would have thought he was in the Keep again.  Jesse stopped at a couple 
of stalls and when into one shop before continuing up the street.  As 
they reached a crossroads Rorlyn noticed a large round building at a 
distance off to the left.

"Is that some of the old city as well," the lion asked the human mage.

"No, that's a reminder of the siege," he told him.

"So it's a monument to the fallen, just as in Metamor," the maned feline 
commented.

"No, it's darker then that," Jesse explained. "During the siege, while 
our walls still held, Nasoj's forces used war machines to throw 
projectiles at us.  For the first day we took little notice as they were 
few in number, small and caused little damage.  The night however 
revealed something far different.  They glowed sickly green, like the 
waters of a swamp."

"Fearing some evil magic we sent mages and men to deal with them.  The 
mages saw no magic about them but cast a protective spell over the men 
who began to remove them.  Despite there being no magic any man who drew 
near enough to touch the object became deathly sick and died within a 
matter of hours.  So we fenced off each one to keep people away.  But 
within a few days anyone who had come near these glowing stones began to 
vomit and their skin blistered.  By the end of a week most were dead. 
It was then that we walled them up so no one could get near them.  What 
you see now is the permanent buildings we have erected to shield our 
people."

"You can't get rid of them?" Rorlyn asked in surprise at the tale.

"No, not even a dragon can withstand whatever they possess," Jesse 
explained as he began to walk again. "Until we can discern a safe way of 
removing these blistering stones they will stay as they are."

Rorlyn noticed a great difference in the streets that they were now 
walking.  While before the city seemed pleasant this part had an order 
to it he had never seen in his life.  The streets were straight and 
hard.  The crossroads were equally precise and looking down each street 
he could see that the houses were almost identical.  This part of the 
city was so well ordered it was like a giant clock maker had put it 
together.

"Is this an old or new part of the city?" the lion mage asked no longer 
able to hold his curiosity.

"This is part of the old city," Jesse said as they came to the last 
intersection before the wall. "The only reason it survived was that 
Nasoj housed his troops here.  Everything here dates back to, if not 
before Suielman times"

"That old!" the lion gasped looking at the building.

"As best as we can tell, yes," The mage said stopping to get a drink 
from a fountain near the street. "Would you like some water?"

"Yes, thank you," the feline replied realizing how thirsty he had become.

"These are also from those times," the mage added handing Rorlyn his 
cup. "The entire city has an endless supply of water that comes from the 
mountain.  We couldn't turn them off if we wanted to.  That's why you 
saw the various waterfalls on the side of the plateau as we approached. 
  That's the run off from the wells and the sewers."

"This place is one of endless amazement," the leonine mage said 
returning Jesse's cup. "I will most certainly have to spend some time 
exploring here."

"Perhaps on your next trip," Jesse told him as they reached a fine 
house. "For now we should sup and you will need rest for the journey 
tomorrow."

Even before the mage reached for the door it swung open for him.  Inside 
a skunk morph stood smiling broadly.

"Master Jesse!" she cried. "Thank the gods you've returned safe."

"There was little work for me this trip Sib," the blond mage replied 
giving her a scratch behind the ear as he passed. "Rorlyn had taken care 
of most of the work before I arrived."

"Greetings Master Rorlyn," the female skunk said with a curtsy. "You 
look weary from your work."

"Yes I am," the young mage answered as she shut the door behind the 
pair. "It has been a very long few days.  But I am not a Master Mage Sib."

"However he is a highly skilled journeyman.  Treat him accordingly," 
Jesse told his servant then asked. "Are there sups ready yet?"

"Yes Master," she replied moving to the other door. "We have some ham, 
bread, cheese and some peas.  All will be ready very shortly."

"Will that do Rorlyn?" Jesse asked his guest.

"That's fine," he replied holding on to a chair so he could take weight 
off his leg.

"I can set the table here in just a minute," Sib suggested.

"No, have Mika do that," the Master ordered. "I can see you've been 
doing most of the work today."

"No, not all Master Jesse," Sib began to explain. "Len has done some of 
the house chores and been working on the lesson you gave him before you 
left."

"And Mika?" pressed the mage.

The skunks tail twitched nervously as she tried to reply.

"He's been out in the yard."

"Doing?" the master asked, his voice showing some irritation.

"Fire polishing iron, Master Jesse," her head dropped as she answered 
her Master's question.

"Mika!" roared the human mage causing Rorlyn to fold his ears flat 
against his head.

The sound of one door opening and slamming shut preceded the appearance 
of a short raccoon in the doorway to the other chamber.

"Yes, Master Jesse," the masked servant said, his tail sweeping the 
floor behind him.

"What have you done of your chores today?" the mage asked glaring down 
at the small Keeper.

"I, ah," he stuttered. "I swept the room."

"Is that all?" the mage inquired. "What of your lessons?"

"I've been practicing my fire spell," he said. his ears sliding downward 
and whiskers drooping.

"Meaning you've been blasting iron until it was shiny," the Master mage 
replied placing emphasis on the last word. "Am I correct?"

"Yes, sir," the raccoon answered so lowly it was barely audible.

"Very well, it is getting late," Jesse said walking toward the now 
trembling ring tailed servant. "Produce a pair of wick lights to 
brighten the chamber."

The raccoon extended his hand and with muzzle twitching produced a small 
sphere that was hardly brighter than a firefly.  Trying again he produce 
another sphere that was little more then a crystal bubble with ribbons 
of light passing over it.

"Mika, it is plain you are not even an apprentice mage tonight," the 
blond bearded man said sternly as he towered over the furred form. 
"Therefore make yourself useful by being a servant and setting the table 
for myself and my guest."

"Yes Master," the raccoon replied weakly.

"Tomorrow we will talk about your training and your punishment for 
disobedience," Mika's teacher continued. "Now go."

The raccoon left the room so quickly that Rorlyn swore he could feel a 
breeze.  Sib looked at her Master about to say something but he held out 
a hand and stopped her.

"He has to learn Sibylla," he told her. "If he can not discipline 
himself and concentrate he will never be a mage."

"I understand Master," the skunk said as she produced two wick lights of 
her own and removed the weak excuses her fellow student had made. "But 
he is constantly fighting his animal nature.  That is what distracts him."

"You had to do the same at your change Sib," he reminded her. "Yet you 
have overcome them and are doing very well."

"Thank you Master," she replied. "But it's so new to Mika."

"No more Sib," Jesse said firmly but gently to her. "We'll talk more 
about this tomorrow.  Don't worry, his discipline will not be severe."

As Sib turned to leave the room she was almost bowled over by the 
raccoon racing in with table linens and plates.  Shaking her head she 
returned to the kitchen while Mika did a reasonable job of setting the 
table for the meal.  Soon all was in place and Sibylla brought out the 
finely prepared food for Jesse and Rorlyn to enjoy.

Toward the end of the meal the matter of Rorlyn's true form came up again.

"While there is much more I would like to speak to you about," he told 
the young mage. "my greater concern now is to get you out of the valley 
before the curse truly takes you."

"I still have confidence that my spell protects me," the leonine mage 
said trying not to sound arrogant.

"And what makes a mage of your level believe you have accomplished 
something that has been beyond the greatest mages in Metamor?" Master 
Jesse objected with a bit of sharpness in his tone.

"That I have spent this long in Metamor in the past and not been 
affected by the curse," Rorlyn replied remaining submissive to the 
Master Mage. "Would not the curse have taken me if I'd been here for ten 
days before?"

"Perhaps, perhaps not," Jesse countered. "The norm seems to be a week to 
ten days.  There has never been a case of someone staying more than a 
fortnight without being taken.  This is the reason for my concern.  Even 
if you leave tomorrow you will be only two days short of that by the 
time you leave the valley."

"So you would have me abandon those who I have fought beside?" he asked 
feeling more emotion in that statement then he himself would have expected.

"They will understand," Jesse told him.

"But they do not know my secret," the young mage objected. "And I would 
just as soon leave it that way."

"They need not know," the blond bearded mage assured him. "I will simply 
say that I have sent you on urgent business related to the attack.  That 
will be enough for them to understand."

"So you feel I must leave then," the lion asked as he saw this was not 
an argument he was likely to win.

"So strongly that I have considered forcing you to go," the Master Mage 
replied. "Indeed if I had the means I would create a portal or summon a 
dragon to take you there.  Rorlyn there is only one other that I have 
seen that showed as much promise as I see in you.  Fortunately he was 
transformed into a child and still became a powerful mage.  I do not 
want anything to happen to you that will prevent you from gaining that 
potential.  What you have done few other journeyman mages could have 
accomplished.  Indeed if you did return I would gladly take you into my 
home and aid you in refining your skills.  The curse acts different on 
each one it touches.  There is no way of telling what it might do to 
your ability to use magic."

The young leonine mage was taken aback by the compliment that Master 
Jesse had paid him.  He had never been given his journeyman stature due 
to his Master's disappearance.  Yet this mage placed him beyond most of 
them and even offered him a position within his own house.  Still the 
young mage continued his argument.

"But you said you were a mage before the curse took you," Rorlyn 
observed. "And you are still a Master Mage."

"True, in my case if anything it did enhance my ability," the 
transformed man replied. "However there are those whose change greatly 
diminished or totally destroyed their ability to use magic."

"Very well Master Jesse," the feline mage said resigning himself to what 
he must do. "I will leave tomorrow for the south."

"Thank you," Jesse said. "I'll see you have all you need to make the 
journey.  Are you able to ride a horse in that form?"

"I never have," the maned cat replied. "I've driven a team on a regular 
basis but not ridden."

"It's best you not try now then," the mage told him, his brow wrinkling 
in thought. "I do not have a horse broken to harness so I fear you will 
have to make the journey on foot.  Is your leg well enough to do so?"

"It troubled me some on the trip back," Rorlyn admitted. "but not so 
much so that I could not have traveled farther.  Once I'm in the Keep I 
have a team of horses that I can use to leave the valley."

"Ah yes, Rorlyn the merchant," the Master Mage remarked with a smile. "I 
doubt that after this you will be able to resume that role.  I will see 
to it that Gina gives you the medicines you need for the trip back.  But 
it is late and you need rest."

Turning to the door the Master called out. "Len, come here."

Immediately a lad of some twelve years came into the chamber.

"How may I help you Master?" he asked.

"Show Rorlyn to the guest room," the mage instructed. "See that he has 
whatever he needs for the night."

"Yes Master," the boy replied.

"You are also to be up before dawn to aid him," Jesse continued. "He 
will be leaving at first light."

The boy nodded and bowing to Rorlyn said.

"Follow me sir."

He led the lion morph up the stairs and to a finely furnished room with 
a sizable bed.  There was nothing else he needed so Rorlyn dismissed the 
boy and soon was sound asleep.  Awaking before the sun was up the young 
mage dressed and quietly descended the stairs where Len greeted him and 
said breakfast was ready.  Just as the night before the table was well 
laid and the feline delighted in the food set before him.  As he 
finished his meal the boy brought a package to him.

"Mistress Gina sent this for you sir," he told him. "She said you should 
apply the salve to your leg for another five days and take the tonic 
thrice a day."

"Thank you Len," Rorlyn said pouring a small bit of the tonic in his 
tankard and filling it with tea. "Len tell me something?"

"Yes sir," he replied. "whatever you desire."

"Are you truly a child," he asked gesturing to the boy's body. "or is 
this the work of the curse?"

"Tis the curse sir," he answered. "I was an apprentice to Master Jesse 
when I came of the age for the curse to take hold of me.  I am now 
forever a child and shall never be a man."

"Did the change affect your practice of magic?"

"Not greatly sir," Len told him with a shake of his head. "It does make 
it somewhat more difficult for me to reach things if the spell involves 
ingredients or the making of runes.  Beyond that I find little difficulty."

"Thank you Len," the feline mage said as he stood and shouldered his 
pack. "Please give Master Jesse my thanks for all his kindness."

"You can do so in person," a voice called from behind him.

Turning about the lion morph saw the Master Mage standing by the stairs 
with a staff in his hand.

"I do thank you Master Jesse," Rorlyn said with a slight bow. "I can 
never repay you for your kindness to me."

"Yes you can Rorlyn," the mage replied. "Firstly, by returning to me 
safe and sound a month hence.  Secondly by accepting this replacement 
for your staff and beginning to work with it."

"Thank you Master Jesse," the lion mage said gingerly taking the staff 
from the man's hand and feeling the power within even as he did so. 
"Return I shall.  But the staff is so far beyond what I did have."

"Yes, and that is why it will take you time to learn it," the Master 
Mage said cutting off his objection. "First listen to it, feel it, and 
look upon it.  Once you have done these things take it to a secluded 
place and allow it to become one with you.  Now be on your way."

"Thank you Master," the lion said bowing again. "I shall do as you say. 
  Until next we meet be well."

"And you Rorlyn," replied the mage as the lion stepped out the door.

It took Rorlyn much longer to reach the Keep then he had anticipated but 
he still made it well before they closed the gates.  Somehow the streets 
of Metamor looked different to him now.  The various morphs were now 
people not just victims of some evil curse.  He could see this place for 
what it truly was and not just as a place to make money.

"Rorlyn!" an unmistakable voice called out from behind him.

Turning around the lion saw George walking toward him.  He was relieved 
to see that the jackal did not seem angry and was in fact smiling.

"We got the report about midmorning," the patrol master began. "That was 
a nice piece of work."

"Thank you sir," Rorlyn said his tail twitching nervously.

"I'll have to remember you for some future missions," the old bandit 
told him. "How are the others doing?"

"Ed and Kate will take some time to heal," the lion reported. "I think 
the others should be back shortly."

"I'd like to get your account of what happen if you don't mind," he told 
Rorlyn. "Why don't we go to my office and do that now?"

The mage thought about finding some excuse for not doing what the jackal 
wanted but he knew that the sooner the commander had this information 
the better prepared he would be to deal with further threats to the 
north.  So the pair retired to George's office and spent the next few 
hours going over every detail of the mission.  By the time they were 
through all Rorlyn wanted to do was get some supper and go to bed.

As the tired lion morph entered the common room Jami shouted a greeting 
to him.

"Master Rorlyn," the great bearded man called out. "Welcome back.  How 
went the patrol?"

"It was eventful," the lion said. "I do hope you have a good meal set 
out tonight."

"Have I ever failed you before?" the inn keeper replied. "One I'm sure 
to your liking, a fine roast of beef."

"Yes, that will do quite nicely," he said moving with a slight limp 
toward a table. "I will have that with a good picture of beer and some 
of your fine dark bread."

"Yea, I can provide all of that for you sir," he replied noting the 
limp. "I see the patrol was not without cost.  Is there anything I can 
fetch to ease that?"

"No, thank you," the feline answered as he fell into a chair. "I have 
all I need in my pack."

With a nod the inn keeper shouted his guest's order back to those in the 
kitchen.  Moments later a lad of about ten hurried to the table with the 
mage's drink.  Setting the picture and a tankard on the table the boy 
poured the lion's first drink.

"You are certain your leg does not overly trouble you Master Rorlyn," 
the boy asked.

"No, Darion," he told the boy he knew well. "the healer at Mycransburg 
gave me salve and a tonic to ease the pain.  But for this night this 
beer will be my tonic."

"As you wish sir," he replied. "I shall return shortly with your meats."

And with that the boy darted back into the kitchen.  Rorlyn lifted the 
tankard to his muzzle and drained the better portion of it before 
setting it down.  He gazed at the fire as his thoughts raced in a 
thousand different directions.  The last ten days had changed his whole 
perspective of Metamor, of his life and the world for that matter. 
Never had he been in battle, seen its gore or felt the pain of those 
involved.  Never had he wielded magic so freely nor with such power. 
And never had so many died at his own hand from that power.

"May I join you?" asked a voice that jolted him back to the present.

Looking up the mage saw a familiar feline standing near the table.

"Yes, certainly Marquez," he said. "Please have a seat."

"I heard you just came back in from a patrol to the north," he began, 
taking a short sip from his own tankard. "How did it go?"

"It was long and bloody," the lion morph replied. "I've never been on 
one like that before."

"Some full pitched battle then," the tabby said looking at the lion's 
drooping whiskers. "about how many did you engage?"

"On the entire patrol?" the lion answered. "I'd guess between seventy 
and eighty."

"Seventy or eighty!" the feline replied. "I've never been on a patrol 
that encountered half that number.  You must have been fighting every day."

"No, I think all together there were only two days we came up against 
the Lutins," the lion mage said draining his tankard and refilling it.

"Amazing," Marquez exclaimed, his ears erect in surprise. "Tell me was 
one of the members of your patrol a gray shorthaired feline called 
Tricia by any chance?"

"Yes," Rorlyn replied in surprise at Tricia's name. "She was part of our 
group.  Do you know her Marq?"

"Yes, we've met," he said, his tail giving away some anxiety about the 
answer. "Did she and the others come back with you?"

"No," he told the other feline. "I came back alone to give a full report 
to George.  Tricia stayed with the others who were wounded."

"Was she wounded?" Marq asked nearly leaning across the table as he 
waited an answer.

"She took some cuts to her arm," the lion told him. "But they were 
minor.  She is fine."

The tabby relaxed considerably and lowered himself back into his chair. 
  Rorlyn noted this and guessed that the relationship between Marq and 
Tricia was more then he was letting on.  Just about then the roast beef 
and bread arrived.

"Would you like some of this?" Rorlyn offered cutting a large slab off 
for himself.

"No, thank you," Marq answered. "I had my sups some time ago.  How did 
Tricia get wounded?"

"It was in the big battle we had just a couple days ago," the leonine 
mage told him, tearing off some bread. "She handled herself quite well 
but between the number of Lutins and the mage they had with them it was 
a blessing that none of us were killed."

"Tell me about it," Marq said, his whiskers twitching with excitement or 
concern.  Rorlyn couldn't decide which.

Between bites of meat and sips of beer the lion mage recounted for him 
the story of the battle.  At the peak of the story the lion thought Marq 
would lose his tail for how violently it swished behind him.  By the end 
of the story he had relaxed into his seat once again.

"Yes, I see what you mean," the feline remarked draining what was left 
of his own drink. "Thank the gods that you could counter the mage's 
magic and win the day."

"It was team work that won the day," Rorlyn said. "I was but one member. 
  If anyone deserves the title of winning the day it would be Cal who 
slew the mage in the end."

"Perhaps," Marq countered. "But without your magic none would have 
survived."

"You make too much of it my friend," the lion mage replied dropping the 
last of the meat into his mouth. "Had I not been there I'm sure Wade 
would have changed his tactics so as to have delayed them until the mage 
from Mycransburg could have arrived."

"No matter, I am very glad you were there," he told the lion.

"I did my duty, nothing more," Rorlyn answered and downed the last of 
his beer. "Now if you will excuse me I need to get some rest."

Marq nodded and the two felines stood.  Rorlyn dropped some coins off to 
Jami for the meal and then headed for the stairs and his room.  His own 
words echoed in his ears.  He had done his duty.  A duty that he had 
tried to escape before being cornered by George.  Yet he felt better 
about himself now then he had in many a day.  Was this something he 
should do again?  Did he even have a choice considering the praise 
George had laid on him in their meeting?  Should he seek out another 
mage who could teach him how best to use his magic in battle?  He was 
too tired to consider these questions tonight but he was certain he 
would reflect on them as he journeyed to the south tomorrow.  Opening 
the door he sent a small wick light aloft and entered.

Rorlyn laid his robe on the chair and stretched his large feline body. 
The bed was going to feel exceedingly good tonight after all those days 
out in the field.  He thanked all the gods that there had not been more 
trouble and that all would recover despite the injuries.

Settling into the soft bedding and drawing the covers up he was soon asleep.

His sleep was short lived however as a twinge of pain on his arm awoke 
him from his slumber.  Pulling back the covers and looking down his 
feline vision saw something sticking out near his elbow.  Reaching down 
he felt a feather and wondered how it had come through the bedding. 
Grasping it and giving a tug he felt a pain like someone grabbing a hand 
full of fur.

"What?" he gasped as the pain fully awakened him and he realized that 
the feather was far too large to be bedding.

Quickly he cast a wick light and saw that indeed the feather and several 
others where coming out of his upper arm.

"No, no this can't be," he cried bounding out of the bed. "The curse 
can't take hold on a non human, it can't affect magic."

Yet even as he said this he felt more changes in his other arm.  It was 
changing, growing longer and sprouting feathers as well.

"My spell must have been weakened in the battle," he thought and began 
reinforcing his morphic spell.

The changes continued however and he could see more golden brown 
feathers pushing out from his limbs and now parts of his chest.  He 
could also feel his muzzle changing and, lifting a hand to it, 
discovered it was losing its fur and becoming hard.

"No, I'm turning into a bird," he gasped. "Not that.  I need my hands, I 
can't cast spells without my hands."

Frantically he began more casting to reinforce and strengthen his spell 
in hopes of stopping the curse.  More and more he gestured with his 
hands and recited the ancient language needed to draw the magic threads 
together and bind his form.  Yet the more he tried the more the change 
progressed.  His fingers began to lengthen causing him to put more and 
more effort into forming the intricate gestures and patterns the spell 
required.

He could feel his body move and reshape.  Sometimes forward to the 
avian, at other times back to his feline shape.

"Focus, don't lose concentration," he told himself recalling his Masters 
counsel when doing the type of intricate casting his form required. 
"push, have to keep pushing."

A sharp pain in his face nearly cost him this concentration as his beak 
began to stiffen.  He drew more and more of the magical energy to 
himself.  He had never in all his casting forced this much energy into a 
single spell let alone on his own body.  Layer upon layer he rewove the 
spell, counting every little reversal as a victory.

But now the curse was reshaping the hands he so desperately needed. 
They were being reshaped into the wings that all avian Keepers were 
cursed with.  It was now or never.  If he lost his hands he would lose 
his ability to weave any spell at all.  He closed his eyes and the words 
poured forth from his hardening lips in a torrent of power and command. 
  His malformed hands stroked the air in the pattern he had learned, all 
the time his movements being slowed as more and more feathers caught the 
air.

"Have to keep trying," the back of his mind cried out. "Can't become a 
bird.  Mustn't give in to the curse."

He needed more power, but from where.  He was tapping every strand 
visible to him.  Suddenly he remembered what his master had done on one 
occasion.  He had somehow tapped into the Ethereal realm, drawing on its 
energy.  Rorlyn had never used such magic and his master had often 
warned of its power.  Still it was tap this power or fall under the 
curse.  Dredging up from his memory the words and gestures he attempted 
to open this vast reservoir of power to aid him in his battle.  With the 
last flick of his extended finger the vail opened and he felt the magic 
rush in upon him.  If the magic he had been using was a trickle of water 
this was a raging river about to sweep him away.

The room itself shuddered as Rorlyn called upon this new magic and the 
curse countered.  His large avian eyes now teared as the stress built. 
Within his beak his avian tongue fought him as it pronounced each word, 
each phrase needed for the casting.  Then he felt it, a tearing that 
seemed to begin at his very finger tips.  It was like someone were 
ripping his fingers in half.  He fought at the pain, pouring more and 
more of himself into the casting.  His body was hammered by the magic 
like waves would beat on a man cast up on a rocky shore.

"Control, must control," Rorlyn thought as his hands split and deformed.

He struggled against the pain which battered his mind in searing waves. 
  Suddenly, as when one is tearing cloth, his hands gave way and he felt 
his limb split asunder from the tips of his finger to his shoulders. 
His gestures were now doubled and confused.  His beak lost all 
flexibility and his words became a garble of squeaks, chirps and 
screeches.  The entire fore part of his body seemed to burn.  It was 
being compressed and torn apart all at the same time.  With one final 
effort he tried to cast the spell only to feel the magic rush in on him 
until he drown under its weight and pressure.  His arms flailed 
helplessly, magic still being woven by them in uncontrolled ways.  The 
last thing he remembered was a surge of power that he was sure would 
tear him apart or reduce him to ash.  Which it would be he was certain 
he would never know as the brightness of it snapped to black and 
emptiness filled his mind.

A low deep churring filled his ears as wave after wave of dull aching 
pain rolled over his body.  Slowly he became aware that each churr was 
timed to his gasping breath.

"I'm alive," Rorlyn gasped only to hear some unintelligible sound come 
forth from his throat.

He swallowed and tried again to speak but more of a wobbling screech 
answered his urging.  Forcing his eyes open the room was filled with the 
light of dawn spilling through his window.  For a long time all that he 
could discern was light and shadow with strange foggy shapes scattered 
about within them.  A strange motion swept across his vision much like a 
blink but from the side.  These became more frequent and with each of 
them his vision slowly cleared.  Forcing his eyes shut and open several 
times his sight finally became discernible again.

To the side and before him was the floor littered with objects from all 
over the chamber.  Blinking again he shifted his eyes about trying to 
adjust for the room seeming to be on its side.  Fragments of a chair 
could be seen just above his head and a torn remnant of bedding lay 
against the wall in front of him.  He tried to move his head but it 
seemed to be fixed firmly to the floor.  Shifting his eyes downward a 
gray protrusion split his vision and he let out a sigh.  He knew now 
that his fight had been in vain and he was indeed a bird of some kind. 
A movement to the side and below his beak made him shift his vision 
downward.  There lying before him was a feathered limb ending in a set 
of yellow claws and black talons.

He willed his foot to move but though he thought he felt motion the limb 
did not budge.  Again he tried and heard scratching behind him.  In his 
confusion he shook his head barely rocking it from its place on the 
floor.  He could feel something seem to twitch and tremble behind him 
and wondered if this was his tail feathers.  For a long time he lay 
there, periods of sleep dividing the passage of time into steps.  He 
judged it to be nearly noon as he finally gained enough strength and 
command of his body to roll to his belly.

His head bobbed several times before he was able to hold it erect. 
Before him stretched out his taloned feet and he could discern a mass 
below him which he assumed was his avian body.  As he turned his head 
about slightly he became aware of a great change in his vision. 
Everything had far greater detail and even while looking forward he 
could still see clearly to the side.  Dropping his eyes to his beak 
again he saw the orange band near to his face that yielded quickly to a 
gray, ending in a black tip.  Experimentally he opened and closed his 
beak several times, once nipping his tongue in the process.

He now turned his attention to his legs.  As before he tried to move 
them but the illusion of movement could not be confirmed by sight.  He 
tried closing his claws only to have the same results.  In anger he 
reflexively balled his fists and the talons closed.

"I walk on my hands?" Rorlyn gasped hearing a squawk in reply. "I 
thought my hands were becoming wings not my feet."

This time he moved his arms and the limbs before him responded.  Slowly 
he moved them about ever gaining confidence in his ability to control 
them.  At last he tried to stand.  Drawing his legs under him he allowed 
his talons to bite into the floor and he pushed up.  With great effort 
he made his body rise from the floor but all the time it was like some 
great weight was pulling him backward.

"I guess I'm a tail heavy hawk," he mused as he stood there for a moment 
making sure he was steady before taking a step.

As he moved his leg forward it felt as if he were dragging something. 
Turning to look behind him he was shocked to see that he could literally 
turn his head completely around.  There on his back was a set of large 
wings made of dark brown feathers.  They stretched all the way back to 
the floor and were somewhat askew hiding a good portion of the floor to 
each side as well.

"Hmm, now to move these," he wondered but a reflexive shrug gave him the 
answer.

This was a totally new set of movements to him and he took several 
minutes trying to sort through what each did.  He finally gave up as he 
discovered how to settle them smoothly across his back.  It was at that 
moment he realized something was very wrong.

Looking just behind his wings he saw an all too familiar lion tail 
twitching in contentment at having gotten his wings settled into place. 
  He concentrated on the tail, pausing its movement for a moment in the 
same manner he had in his lion morph form.  Releasing control once again 
it now trembled with uncertainty of what was happening.  At about the 
same time something moved beneath his wings that he felt as well as saw.

"Leg?" he pondered realizing this was the same feeling he had had when 
he first tried to stand.

Slowly he ordered his legs to unfold and saw his body rise freeing him 
from the weight he have felt pulling him back.  Shaking his head he 
lifted first one foot then the other.  His wings lifted in time with 
each command.  Carefully he took a step forward only to send himself 
crashing to the floor and against the bed.

Looking back he saw one wing draped over the end of the bed and a fur 
covered paw sticking out from under the other.  Blinking he tried moving 
the revealed appendage and it obediently slid out revealing the lower 
part of a lion's leg.

"By all the gods can this be true?" Rorlyn questioned slowly drawing his 
hind paws back under him and standing again.

Craning his neck down and gingerly raising his wing he peered back at 
his body.  There under the tips of his wings was the body of a lion of 
the same tawny color he had been as a lion morph.  To convince himself 
that this was true he alternated lifting and setting each foot down. 
Being careful not to fall again he gently bent himself about to look 
more closely at his new form.  The lion body took up the back half of 
his frame fading into a dark hairy mane out of which his feathered 
forelegs appeared.  Cocking his head to the side he could see with his 
new broader vision how his wings and feathered neck erupted out of this 
same mass of long fur.  He had no way of telling what his head truly 
looked like but movement at the top told him that there were some kind 
of ears that flicked about in much greater expression then his flexible 
lion ears ever had.

Having gained confidence from standing he again began to walk taking 
slow measured steps.  His forefeet splay out allowing his talons to flex 
up and out of the way.  This put his weight on the protrusions just 
behind where the talon met the scaled claw's surface.  With pains taking 
care he moved about trying to get a sense for how each limb moved in the 
new cadence required to allow him to walk.  As he did this he also 
became aware of another change.

While he had been tall as a lion morph he was now even taller.  If he 
judged correctly from the way his ears brushed the ceiling he would put 
a number of horses to shame both in the height of his head and back. 
The mention of horse made all of the pieces snap together clearly for 
him.  Somehow with his efforts to maintain his lion morph form he had 
confused the curse and the result was the blend of lion and eagle called 
a gryphon.

"Gryphon?" Rorlyn mused in amazement.  While known to still be in 
existence they were one of the rarest creatures in all the world. "Well 
I suppose if I was to be struck with the animal curse this blend isn't 
all that bad.  With four limbs instead of wings and feet I still may be 
able to use magic."

Suddenly a frightening thought passed through his mind.  Some Keepers, 
like Kate, who had magic spells upon them had been twice struck.  What 
if this had happen to him?  His size ruled out age regression, or so he 
thought but what of the other.

Try as he might he could not move his head to were he could clearly see 
what he needed.  So placing his fore claws on the end of the bed he 
pushed himself up giving a better view of his underside.  Dipping his 
head between his forelegs and looking back he thanked the gods that he 
was still a male.  A shift in his front legs caused Rorlyn to snap his 
head forward just in time to see the head of the bed pivoting toward him 
in response to the great weight on the foot board.

Scrambling to get off the bed only accelerated the motion and the large 
piece of furniture swung toward him like a giant hand.  Taking a quick 
step away the new gryphon suddenly found his front going in one 
direction while his back spun off in another.  The end result was his 
landing heavily on his back with barely enough time to extend his 
forelegs before the bed came crashing down upon him.

"Screech!" was all that escaped his beak as the bed pinned him firmly 
beneath its weight.

At this point whatever instincts his new body had took control with 
claws, paws and wings all flailing about in a thunderous din.  The bed 
was flung free and crashed into the ceiling sending plaster and wood 
flying in all directions.  Claws and talons shredded the tick, loosing 
its goose and duck feathers in a swirling blizzard of white fluff. 
Wings only added to this as they beat the air into a gale and sent 
anything lighter than a man sliding about the room.  Rorlyn's own 
confused cries for help, most of which came out as deafening screeches 
and squawks, added to the chaos exploding within the small chamber.

As he finally regained control of his body Rorlyn could hear the sound 
of boots running down the hall and up the stairs.  Shout sounded and a 
great banging soon erupted from his door.

End Part 3