<html> <head> <meta http-equiv="content-type" content="text/html; charset=ISO-8859-1"> </head> <body bgcolor="#FFFFFF" text="#000000"> And now we get to the real main event! -LurkingWolf ___ <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=ISO-8859-1"> March 5, 708 CR<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p> Alex was up several hours before his companions, as was his custom. Once he was ready for the patrol, he headed out to inquire after the weather for the next few days. By the time he had returned, both Lucy and Julian were awake and moving. Lois, on the other hand, was nowhere to be found. Lucy could offer him no idea of the ermine’s whereabouts, but Julian muttered something about the man going outside with a few words about acclimating to the temperature.<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p> It did not take the lynx very long to find his missing companion. The man was sitting in the killing fields with his eyes closed, wearing nothing but a pair of thin breeches to ward off the bitter cold. The rest of his clothing was sitting in a bundle with his weapons, and Alex wondered what would happen should another attempt to steal them. As he had no desire to die, however, he left them be.<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p> “This is an odd way to spend your morning,” the lynx commented.<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p> The ermine hardly moved. “Should the worst happen, I may have to use the Curse to my advantage. I expect that my fur will be slightly thicker in my feral form, but I do not want to be shivering should the truth prove otherwise.”<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p> “How do you feel?”<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p> Without pausing for a moment, the ermine responded, “Cold, and trying not to think about it.” He opened his eyes and turned to the archer. “Are we prepared to depart?”<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p> “Not yet. The others are still preparing their equipment, but they will be ready shortly. I have personally just returned from inquiring about the weather we will see in our mission.”<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p> “What are they predicting?” Lois asked.<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p> “They say that it is likely to snow in the north. It shouldn’t be a repeat of last week’s blizzard, but the ground is still frozen. Whatever snow does fall is likely to stick.”<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p> Lois nodded, closing his eyes again. “That is all the better. Snow will help me blend into the terrain more easily. The more factors that stack in my favor, the better.”<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p> Alex snorted. “Do you always consider such things on your missions?”<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p> “Well, I did not have to consider the natural coloration of my fur until recently, but details are always important. Regardless of what they say, no true master ever plays fair. The most surefire way to succeed is to eliminate all possible methods of failure. Stack the deck, load the dice, do whatever it takes to make it impossible for your opponent to succeed.”<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p> Alex smirked. “Not the cleanest fighter, are you?”<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p> Lois scoffed. “There is no such thing as a fair fight. If a man is locked in battle with you outside of the arena, he means to kill you. The only men who fight fair are those who have been taught to do so, and such men seldom last long outside of jousting tournaments.”<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p> “How do you feel? About the mission, I mean?” Alex asked.<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p> The ermine shook his head, but his eyes remained closed. “Uncomfortable. I never wanted to do this again, and yet I don’t think I could live with the consequences of my own inaction again. This is something I have to do.”<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p> “I don’t know what makes you think you have the obligation to return to assassination when you suggested the idea yourself. The Keep did not ask you to do this, it was your own decision. They would not be happy, perhaps, but I think that their trust for you would benefit from you calling it off.”<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p> “This isn’t for my benefit or for the Keep’s benefit.” Lois’ eyes had snapped back open, and he was giving Alex a cold stare. The deep blue coloration of his eyes made it even more effective than it might otherwise have been. “This is a favor for a man to whom I owe more than a few.”<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p> “There are certainly other ways you could repay such a trust.”<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p> “No.” Lois shook his head vehemently, then heaved a sigh before continuing. “No. I don’t know what soul I have left after all these years, but I would easily credit him for saving whatever remains. I cannot repay all that he has done, but I can do this at least.”<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p> Alex wanted to respond. There were words he could say, but he could not see them making a difference. The mission would continue, despite his opposition to the same. The lynx was not certain why he truly cared about what Lois did; he hardly knew the man. Still, there was an odd sincerity to the way that he spoke, and what he had done for Gerard made it impossible for him to truly believe that the man intended any ill for the Keep. It was no comfort that he was still intending to continue this assassination attempt, but it would be difficult to change his belief that Lois was a good man at this juncture.<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p> “Come,” he said after a few moments. “I am certain that the others are prepared to leave now, and we had best not keep them waiting.”<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p> Lois nodded and reached for his bundle. He equipped himself as they walked back towards the barracks, and was surprisingly finished before they arrived. He wore a dark coat, colored to blend into shadows, and trimmed with a curiously rich-looking fur collar. Alex was certain that it had to be some sort of ironic statement by the man, since he could not imagine that it was helpful to his camouflage in any way. Across his chest he wore a bandolier of throwing daggers, and at his hips he wore his two main weapons, a longer pair of blades that served him in place of a sword. The sword that Alex had requested on their previous patrol together was absent. Lois was disinclined to bring it, and after the events of that patrol, Alex was less inclined to suggest it. The assassin would need to be light for his task.<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p> Lucy and Julian were both ready by the time the two men reached the barracks, and were quietly performing some sort of joint meditation ritual. They noticed their commander before he even spoke, and were both on their feet when he greeted them.<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p> “Are you both ready to begin?” the lynx asked.<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p> “Certainly,” Lucy responded. The moondog beside her only grunted in affirmation, but he was clearly as prepared as any of them.<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p> Alex waved towards the door with one paw. “We have much ground to cover,” he announced. “Let us be on our way.”<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p> As they left the doors of the barracks, the first white flakes that signaled the coming snow had already begun to fall. Alex hoped that they would stick. If it aided Lois’ mission, he was more than happy to see it fall.<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p> * * *<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p> The patrol reached their destination with some daylight left, and so set about the task of finding their quarry. Fortunately, the lutin camp had not moved much since the last time Metamor’s spies had sighted them. It seemed that they had found a good hunting ground and were staking their claim to it, and none had been able to challenge that claim thus far. Quietly, Alex’s patrol began to observe the camp, taking precautions to make sure that no thus-far absent portion of the tribe came up behind them while they were watching. The sun set slowly, and gave them time to watch their enemies at camp.<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p> The snow had continued throughout their journey, even seeming to increase as they passed the Giant’s Dike, and by the time they had reached their destination it had thoroughly covered the ground to the depth of three or four inches. Lois let the stray flaked cling to his fur, clothing, and whiskers as he moved. It speckled the dark color of his clothing white, and seemed to add pieces of fuzz to his already thick fur. Alex might have pointed this out had he not wanted to live for a few more years.<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p> There was little motion, but what ebb and flow there was around the camp quickly helped them determine which of the crude tents housed the chief and which held the shaman. These were, of course, pointed out as likely sources of relevant intelligence, but Lois and Alex noted them with more than a passing curiosity. As soon as the ermine had seen them both, Alex could virtually see the thoughts flowing through his mind. He was plotting the perfect way to make his entrance and his exit, and it was clear that he was preoccupied. Alex simply hoped that Lucy and Julian took that mission for what they had been told.<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p> Once the sun had set, the planning began in earnest. The Keepers watched in silence as campfires began to spring up. It was clear to see that this tribe did not fear its neighbors, as its bonfires were bright and numerous. Even more concerning, they lit the area and melted the snow around them. It would be a difficult entry, regardless of what they tried.<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p> Watches switched for fresh legs and eyes a little while after the campfires were lit, and Lois was immediately examining their positions for mistakes or exploitable weaknesses. Julian matched him for intensity of scrutiny, but he was quick to shake his head.<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p> “It’s a bad idea,” he whispered. “Metamor doesn’t need this information this badly, we should return or wait for a better situation.”<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p> Alex almost agreed with him, but Lois shook his head. “The guards in that area are already gambling,” he responded, motioning towards the group he had mentioned. “They will be too engrossed in who is winning to care about performing their duty. We should wait for them to begin raising their voices, and then we can move while they argue.”<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p> As he had noted, a trio of lutins were beginning a game of knucklebones, chuckling together as they tested each other with cheap bets and cheaper tricks. They glanced about to make certain that no one was watching with regularity, but Lois was right. Such games seldom remained entirely friendly for their duration. Julian silently conceded the point, and the four returned to their observations, maneuvering slightly closer to get a better look.<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p> As Lois had predicted, one of the players had soon been caught sneaking a bead from another player’s stack. The discovery was relatively civil as far as gamblers’ arguments tended to go, but their attention was immediately off of the forest and onto the game. With some precedent now, the lutins were more inclined to watch the stacks of valuables they were gambling with than they were to look for intruders.<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p> “Now,” Lois signed.<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p> Alex nodded. “Do you think you can get the information?” he asked.<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p> Lois coolly responded in keeping with the cover story that they had chosen. “Of course. I’ve been into more tightly guarded placed than this without the benefit of natural camouflage.”<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p> “With all due respect, I have experience in espionage,” Julian contradicted. “I think I should go.”<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p> Alex shook his head. “I’m sorry, but I’ve worked with Lois, and I know what he can do. I hope to be able to say the same of you before long, but this is too important for me to take any risks with it.<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p> Julian huffed in annoyance, but said nothing further. He crossed his arms instead, and looked back at the squabbling lutins.<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p> “Best go quickly,” Lucy interjected. “They may find more entertaining pastimes, or they could be corrected by a superior. We have no guarantee that this distraction will continue for long.”<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p> Without another word, Lois made for the edge of the camp. The lutins whose distraction he was exploiting were thoroughly engaged in their game, but Lois still kept low to the ground as he exited the tree line. Lying on his stomach and covered by his snow-covered clothing, it was hard for a casual observer to tell him apart from the nearby rocks when he stayed still.<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p> He was patient, as he had learned to be from years of experience. More than one pair of eyes stole over his prone form, but he was dismissed as some background object that they had not noticed previously. With almost shocking stealth, the ermine soon crossed the distance to the chief’s tent. Although it was at a longer distance than the shaman’s, the two were close together, and the assassin preferred the shorter path once it was time for his escape.<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p> Several guards were stationed outside the tent, but Lois ignored them. He drew one of his main daggers and used the razor edge to slit the tent’s material swiftly and silently. He slipping inside carefully, keeping his eyes and ears open for any guards who were permitted to stand guard within, but there were none. Instead, the chief herself was the only occupant, and she slept silently on a bed that represented a luxury unheard of by her tribe. Lois slithered towards her location, but made extremely certain not to trip any traps, magical or mundane, on his way. From an unseen sleeve hidden in his cloak’s collar, he drew a thin dart, its tip covered to keep it safe until he had need of it. Removing this protection, he took aim, and threw it carefully, directly into the sleeping lutin’s neck.<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p> She jerked, swatting at it in her sleep for a moment, but paid it no more mind that she would have a mosquito that similarly disturbed her rest. Unfortunately for her, it also meant it would be her final rest on this side of death.<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p> Lois’ egress was swift and silent, and he was soon beside the shaman’s tent. The area around it was eerily silent, with neither guards nor fire within a stone’s throw of the tent. Lois breathed deeply as he stood outside of its dark form. Here he was more in danger than his target. With no notion of magic and no way of resisting a spell cast at him, the ermine had to rely on preparation and luck for success.<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p> The first concern was lethal magical traps set on any entry point an attacker might use. Lois quietly drew out a strange, marble-sized gem, and tossed it towards the cloth of the tent. There was a spark and a soft flash, and the bauble fell to earth, both itself and the spell intended for the ermine inert. The thing was almost pure mithril and was hardly cheap, but it could not only trigger but also absorb most spells before they could be fully unleashed. <o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p> Lois took the precaution to test the canvas again, but now not even the slightest hint of magic touched the stone. He retrieved it, as it had not yet served its purpose, and then proceeded to cut his way through as he had done with the first tent.<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p> He threw the second bauble in before him and ducked through soon after. His forward guard remained unharmed, but he still went carefully to retrieve it, looking around him as he did.<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p> The tent held no few items of tribal and magical significance. Ingredients to be used in alchemical spells littered every nearby surface, while wards against evil spirits adorned the walls of the tent, many sewn directly into its surface. There were no visible spells anywhere, but Lois knew better than to trust this sort of luck. His left hand remained on his dagger while his right clutched the mithril sphere. His eyes searched the area, looking for any sign of his target.<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p> His first sign nearly took an ear from his head, as a bolt of magic sizzled past, dispersing behind the ermine as he just managed to dodge. The tent had evidently been made to resist such attacks, as it showed not even a singed thread where the magic had struck it. Lois mouthed a bitter curse as he drew a dagger and threw it towards the unseen target. He was close enough to be dangerous, and he saw a pile of furs move as his opponent took shelter behind them.<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p> The pitch black hindered neither party, but would doubtless have confused any attempting to observe the battle. Lois’ animal eyes had long since adjusted to the low lighting, and he surmised that his opponent had a quick magical trick that allowed him to have the same advantage.<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p> Lois drew one of his main daggers in his right hand, while a throwing dagger was soon in the palm of his left. He maneuvered behind a table full of strange symbols, trying to keep it between him and his enemy. The shaman proved adept at this sort of combat himself, and Lois was barely saved by the corner of the table as another spell struck it, turning it around fully with the force of the spell. Lois shouldered into the table and turned it over on its side, ducking into its cover as a third spell, aimed for his head, passed over him.<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p> The shaman chuckled coldly. This was not the first time he had fought a Keeper, and it would not be the last. Those searching for lethal traps could all be foiled by a single hidden thread that triggered nothing more than a small spell intended to rouse him from any slumber. They could disarm his lethal trap spells, but none were skilled enough to face him openly.<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p> He threw another spell at the center of the table, and heard his opponent grunt as the piece of furniture slid backwards. He could have shattered the wood without much more exertion, but a shattered table meant splinters would fly everywhere, and there were many complicated enchantments lying about that he had no desire to repair. Putting his opponent on his back should be enough.<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p> The shaman stood and struck the table with one more bolt of magic. He grunted in surprise as the table toppled, showing no man hiding behind it. It was a simply trick, a cloak to hide the man in such a fight. A ball of flame lit in his palm. He would end this with a single strike.<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p> And yet, as the flames scorched the earth and the table alike, there was no cry of pain to follow. The shaman cursed in a guttural voice and raised a ward to protect against magical attacks. He stepped forward, two different spells finding life in either of his hands. He would find his attacker, and he would crush him.<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p> As he stepped into the ruin of the table, he had only enough time to flinch as something exploded off the wall at him. He turned and unleashed his prepared attacks, only to send a giant bear’s pelt into a raging inferno as it landed on him. Screaming in rage and pain, he threw it away, but it was already too late.<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p> Behind him, Lois emerged from beneath another table, slicing the mage’s back open with one dagger before twisting under a flailing arm and disemboweling him with the other. As the shaman collapsed, the ermine drove a poisoned dart, similar to the one that had killed the chief, into the lutin’s chest. The ermine danced back and prepared his antimagic orb as a last defense against a counterattack, but none came. The shaman remained where he lay, his scorched clothing turning crimson with his blood.<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p> The blaze that the Shaman’s last spell had created had not stopped, however, and the tent now began to catch in the flames that were consuming the bear pelt. Lois discarded the simple string he had used to turn the creature’ fur to his advantage, and turned to make his escape. He would have attempted to put out the fire, but he doubted that even the distracted guards would have ignored the shaman’s cry, and a blaze would help distract them during his escape if he moved quickly enough.<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p> He left through the slit he had created a few minutes before, briefly running on all fours to keep momentum as he ran. He slid behind a tent as a few guards ran towards the smoking tent, and took a moment to plan an escape route.<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p> The camp was beginning to come apart at the seams. As he took shelter in the snow, he could hear a cry going up from the chief’s tent; evidently, the threat of fire at the shaman’s resting quarters had increased their concern for her, and even the threat of death at her hands could not keep them from checking on her health. Fortunately, this meant that everyone in the camp was suddenly running to one of two very specific places. The other side of the camp was quickly being vacated.<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p> The ermine waited for a few moments, but once he saw an opening he took it. He kept his head down and charged through the snow, heading for the trees while the lutins headed away. His daggers were still held in a white-knuckled grip after the combat with the shaman, but he meant to avoid using them if he could. With the lutins distracted, it was at least slightly more likely.<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p> * * *<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p> The shaman’s life was slipping through his very fingers, despite his attempts to use his magic to heal his ills. He tried to ask a boon of any spirit that would listen, but their ears were all shut to him now. They now awaited only his soul, and seemed content to receive it sooner, rather than later.<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p> His right eye was blinded by his own blood, but his left eye slowly focused on something that lay in front of him. It was a small bauble, similar in size and shape to the one that the assassin had used to disable his traps, but far different in the nature of the spell it contained. The lutin coughed and reached for it, closing it in one blood-stained hand with some effort, even as loss of blood and poison drained away his life.<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p> If the spirits wanted his soul, they would have it, but he would not see his murderer escape so easily. With one final effort of will, the lutin poured all of his hatred, malice, and desire for vengeance into the gem, and one more effort of will gave the desire a power it could never have had otherwise.<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p> And then the shaman shrieked in anguish as his final spell drew its power from his own blood.<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p> * * *<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p> Lois was only a dozen steps away from the edge of the forest when he heard the horrible death wail of the shaman. There was only one cry that had ever turned his stomach like this one did, but even that horrible night was struck from his mind as a strange sensation raced through him in an ominous wave.<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p> The ermine’s dagger dropped from his right hand as he reached for his head, his escape forgotten amid the lancing pain that threatened to split his skull. His eyes quickly clamped shut as though such an act could repel the sudden invasion, but it simply resolved itself into an insistent, nagging feeling that something was wrong. He continued to run, but dizziness began to overtake him and he stumbled, bringing his eyes open once more.<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p> The world pitched like a ship in a storm, and then the assassin suddenly tripped on clothing that was clearly too large for him. As he tumbled forward, Lois could see his fingers retreating into his gloves, robbing him of the convenience of hands. It brought to mind his intention to use his feral form in case of a desperate escape attempt, but he had not willed this. An icy fear began to grip him, and then the world suddenly fell into absolute darkness.<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p> A thick, smelly material had closed around him, stinking heavily of his own scent and also that of a predator. He hissed and scratched at it, but his claws simply caught in the heavy weave. A wave of desperation overtook him, and he threw himself bodily against the fabric. It would yield! He would not let it hold him!<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p> As he struggled, the ermine suddenly encountered something cold and metallic. He scampered back from it in surprise, only to feel his tail emerging into the open air. He spun and forced himself against the cloth in the opposite direction, and finally his head emerged out of the stinking pile of cloth.<o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p> <span style="font-size:11.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:10.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif";mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";mso-ansi-language:EN-US;mso-fareast-language: EN-US;mso-bidi-language:AR-SA">The animal stood up on his hind legs, sniffing and surveying the area for threats. Both ears and nose told him what his eyes could not see so readily; there were threats here! He could scent predators of all sorts, and loud sounds indicated that they were nearby! Dropping to four paws, the ermine made a desperate bid to flee to safer environs. <meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"> <meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 15"> <meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 15"> <link rel="File-List" href="file:///C:%5CUsers%5CNathan%5CAppData%5CLocal%5CTemp%5Cmsohtmlclip1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml">  <link rel="themeData" href="file:///C:%5CUsers%5CNathan%5CAppData%5CLocal%5CTemp%5Cmsohtmlclip1%5C01%5Cclip_themedata.thmx"> <link rel="colorSchemeMapping" href="file:///C:%5CUsers%5CNathan%5CAppData%5CLocal%5CTemp%5Cmsohtmlclip1%5C01%5Cclip_colorschememapping.xml">  <style>  </style> </body> </html>