[Vfw-times] MK Winter assault part 14

[COkane8116 at aol.com]

** 

Oren of Hipocc stood with his feet ice cold in the snow as he somberly took a 
head count to see who was currently assembled and who was available to 
attempt to retake the tower. 

Shamgar the rhino was there.  He was a tough bugger, able to take a scimitar 
in the brainpan and come away thinking that his opponent was being playful.   
Unfortunately, his head was nearly as thick inside as it was outside. 

Shamgar's girlfriend, Blake was there.  She was trained in the ways of the 
assassin.  Unfortunately, she was truly bad at them, and at present, she was 
a blithering lunatic, all of her attention focused on the severed lutin hand 
which she'd managed to claim. 

Desuka was patting himself to keep warm.  The panda was an indoor man, 
accustomed to life among artisans and scholars within the Temple of the 
Creator.  He was a gentleman, not acclimated to cold nor warfare.  Still, 
there was the rumor that the tinge of red in his fur was a hint at the savage 
beast he transformed into whenever he became enraged. 

Jesse Roo stood at attention, looking very serious. This gave Oren cause to 
worry.  The kangaroo was a formidable fighter, with a unique magical weapon 
few could match.  However, his lack of frivolity spoke of a troubling deep 
down.  Oren thought he knew what it was.  Jesse's mother had remained in 
town, and might very well have already been killed. 

Natalie sat perched in the bare branches of a tree, watching in the direction 
of the Keep and the lighthouse for any sign of activity.  She was also a very 
valuable asset, being not only a dragon, but a magician who specialized in 
shrinking her enemies.  Of course, Natalie wasn't a fighter.  Her special 
power was only ever employed as a means of escape. 

Xan, Leo, Sambrea, and a handful of others from Oren's homeland stood ready. 
  
They were the young Hipocci warriors, untrained and untested in battle.  They 
were willing, but were they able? 

Lastly, there was Oren himself.  Would the otter be able to lead this group 
and retake the tower which was their home?  He prayed that he could. 

"All right, lads and lasses." said the otter.  "We're going back into the 
Lighthouse to reclaim it.  Now, it stands to reason that a direct assault 
will be no less that a total failure, so we're going to be sneaky.  Here's 
what we'll do..."  As he elaborated the plan, some people began to smile, 
some to frown and shake their heads in dismay.  However, all agreed. 

** 

The soldier he saw earlier is not any kind of rat; Kirk can see that clearly 
now. Rats don't have wings. He's looking at a bat. 

"You are?" he asks. 

"Corporal Mortimer Jahnsen," the bat replies. "Serving under Captain 
Breckenridge. Where's the rest of the South Gate guard, sir?" 

"Back at the Gate," says Kirk, peering about the tower while he fills the 
Lieutenant in. "They're holding it as long as possible, at which point they 
sync up with everyone at the Banquet Hall. 

There really isn't much to see in the tower, he notes idly; most of the kids 
managed to discover that rather quickly. The only major points of interest 
consist of two sets of stairs leading upward (rotating up clockwise as 
always), one presumably to various archery posts in the wall of the tower, 
the other leading to other floors like this. There's also a heavy wooden door 
which they just came through, barred shut now and thankfully not being 
pounded on. There's also several barrels off in a corner, presumably holding 
water or food or similar supplies, and a staircase heading down. This last is 
currently populated with children as they head downwards torwards the 
cellars, and the tunnels connected therein. 

"So you're just passing through, sir?" 

"Heading for the tunnels, right," Kirk tells him. "Southward bound. How're 
people holding out here?" 

"Making it as hard as hell for them to get through, sir!" the corporal says 
proudly. "No way they're getting through Our gates." Jahnsen is obviously a 
very young soldier; perhaps he enlisted a few months back. 

"Right," Kirk grins, giving the corporal a punch on the shoulder - light by 
his standards, but Jahnsen definitely notices. "You tell everyone I said to 
make it as much hell for those Lutins as you possibly can." 

"Sir!" Jahnsen says, saluting smartly before heading up the stairs. 

"Good kid," Kirk mutters to himself before he heads down into the tunnels. 

** 

10pm. 

They're not nearly as bad as everyone swears they are. Nearly. The walls are 
like black pearl, in some areas nearly reflecting the light from Kevin's 
pseudo-witchlight. Of course, they'd all be shrouded in utter blackness if 
ever the light went out, and the only sounds are those of dripping water and 
shuffling footsteps as they move along, so madness could very easily claim 
any one of them if they were alone here. At least I'm not alone, many of them 
think to themselves. 

Several of the kids are yawning widely, clearly very tired - most of them 
have bedtimes around 9, and it's well past that, but they still haven't found 
what looks like an appropriate resting spot. 

Jeremy seems to be doing okay after his small encounter; he's been in pain 
but it's gone, Jo has told him that he's going to be all right - she said 
something like how the arrow glanced off a bone and manage to miss most of 
the organs, but he has no clue what she's talking about there - and so he's 
feeling Real good. _I've been in a battle, I was wounded, and I survived! has 
been the prevailing thought on his mind for quite a while now. At this point, 
though, he's thinking less and less of all the medals Duke Thomas is going to 
give him for being a wounded war hero, and thinking more of when they're all 
going to sleep. Of course, he doesn't mention this. The Deal is back on - 
Uncle Jono said so just before they entered the tunnels - and he doesn't want 
to risk losing a chance at the promised pie. And besides, no true war hero is 
ever tired at 10pm. 

Jono, if he was aware of that thought, and thinking straight himself, would 
likely disagree with this notion. He's been keeping himself very busy for the 
past couple hours keeping kids out of harm's way as best he can - and, he 
hesitantly admits to himself, doing a fairly decent job, excepting the arrow 
that hit Jeremy but you couldn't have stopped that arrow, Jono even if you 
were there you wouldn't have seen it coming. Still, he feels doubt about his 
abilities now. He keeps focused outward, ears up and listening for any 
possible sign of advancing Lutins that perchance might have discovered this 
tunnel, determined not to lose or allow to be hurt any more of his charges. 
Should have seen it coming. Derek didn't see it coming either, and he was 
right next to Jeremy that instant. He seems pretty recovered now from his 
earlier adventure out with the Lutin he pasted with a snowball. "If that had 
been a *real* weapon, he'd be Long gone! He thinks to himself; he can exhibit 
bravado now that he's not face to face with them anymore) but still wonders 
about that moment from before with Jeremy. Of course he knew he had to keep 
running; there was nothing that he could do for Jeremy, and he knew darn well 
that there was no way Uncle Jono would *ever* leave Jeremy lying in the snow. 
But doesn't a real warrior defend his comrades in arms? He could have taken 
the arrow down with a snowball, if he'd had a little time to get the snowball 
together and see it coming, that and if he hadn't been particularly obsessed 
with running as fast as he could at the time. 

Daemion is feeling no remorseful feelings whatsoever. "I can be a Healer! I 
really can help save people!" He'd certainly proved that beyond doubt, right 
there, with one of his best friends hurting, in front of his dad and the 
healer Joanne, and he did it! He feels he's got reason to be proud; the last 
time he asked an actual Healer about what made it so difficult, he'd been 
told that the biggest problem was being able to relate to the people and to 
have the energy to help them; mixing the compounds that did the curing was 
simple compared to that. And I just pulled that off! He's not thinking, of 
course, that the circumstances were relatively good for this sort of thing 
(he wasn't doing the fixing, this is a friend of his and thus someone he 
knows, details like that). That would only discourage, and he doesn't Want to 
be discouraged. He's going to be a Healer, and he knows it now. 

All Kevin knows at this point is that they are all in very, VERY serious 
trouble. That storm is *not* natural! He said as much to the others while 
they were assembling just outside the tunnel. For the first time ever since 
his apprentice days, he was unable to draw on the manna needed to cast a 
spell. And in the same instant, it was all too clear why. They've thrown this 
storm at us and cut off our manna supply in the process. "Dear Gods, we are 
all doomed." He's extremely nervous because the vast majority of his ability 
to defend himself is through magical attacks and defenses. He's always been 
able to provide proper support to anyone who needed it just through his 
talents with the fire and lighting magics, and now... now nobody can provide 
magic support. Nobody except Nasoj and his friends. He sees this as (quite 
possibly correctly) the stroke that will kill Metamor, and so it's all 
playing out in his mind. The hordes sweeping over the Keep, flowing into 
Midtown and the Northern Midlands, then down through Ellcaran and across to 
Elvquelin, through Kelewair and Salinon, destroying all they see, defiling 
every place. "Dear Gods, we are all doomed." 

Joanne is thinking quite the opposite. "We still have hope. The Glen is still 
free." She's absolutely certain of it. She still clearly remembers her 
amazement at how well hidden the place managed to be, even After the stories 
she heard about it from Garigan. "And I didn't even manage to check up on him 
yet!" She realizes, wondering about what her friend might be up to. Knowing 
him, of course, he's almost certainly eager to check up on the Glen, even 
though (to her) it's perfectly obvious that there's no way Nasoj could 
possibly find and defeat them. After all, the villages are in ruins. He 
*knows* he destroyed the place. He wouldn't bother checking, even in the 
summer, and this storm would clearly mark such activity as extraneous. 
There's no way they could be in any danger. "The Glen is still free. We'll 
get through this. There's still hope." 

Kirk's only hope is that they'll be through with these damned tunnels soon. 
"I swear, these things take forever!" Even in the back of his mind he knows 
that they haven't been travelling all that far; if they were aboveground it 
would take just as long an amount of walking, except they'd have things to 
occupy their Attention so it wouldn't Seem as bad. Villagers, homes, folks on 
the walls to wave to and shout "Halloa!"s to. But that's in peacetime. Right 
now all that would occupy our attention is those foul Lutins. So even though 
he can't stand these tunnels, he knows it's the best option for the kids, and 
so he begrudgingly follows them. 

Perry, as a counterpoint, follows quite willingly. "These are children of the 
Keep. They are my Duty." He's always been one to take Duty seriously; back in 
the days when he was a little one not much older than these kids he remembers 
quite clearly how his Dad - his actual Dad before the Battle of the Three 
Gates, not his mom-turned-Dad - used to lecture to him. "The men, and mayhap 
in the future the women who have and will rule this realm shall and must 
always be of good heart and intention. Be it that they Are of such heart, you 
must follow and defend them and those they rule to the best of your ability; 
be it that they are otherwise, you will seek to insure that those next in 
line of good Heart are defended, for in time all rule reverts to the Wise and 
the Just. This is your responsibility and your Duty as a warrior to be, and 
the way of our family for generations." Perry, in keeping with these words, 
has loyally followed Duke Thomas for all his life ever since he was old and 
fit enough to join the Keep military, and he has never felt regret. He knows 
he is part of a greater Whole, and nothing dissuades him from his part in it. 

Dana is still wondering what her part in this debacle is supposed to be. "How 
did I get involved in this?" Of course, she can think of the obvious - her 
younger brother (she never thinks of him as her little brother anymore) Kirk 
had her under his command at the South Gate - he's always been the clever, 
commanding one - and she kept with him when he went off to assist Jono, and 
thus somehow ended up tagging along. But she's not all that effective in 
these circumstances; since her becoming *her*self rather than *him*self, 
she's gotten excellent at general swordplay, and thus can easily fight off 
individual Lutins or even pairs of them for hours without breaking much of a 
sweat; thus her position as a Gate guard. But here, she only managed battle 
out in the open as Darren because her size at the time intimidated enough 
that few had the courage to charge, and now as Dana it's even more difficult 
for her to move in the open properly. She could probably fight in the 
tunnels, though. Hopefully she won't have to put this into practice. 

All Josh is practicing at the moment is blank mindless terror. Josh is too 
young to think of much more than one thing at once, and right now that thing 
specifically is all the bad guys out there who are going to eat him. "But 
Uncle Jono's here," he reminds himself. "Uncle Jono can beat any bad guy!" So 
when Uncle Jono says that they can stop here for the night, he will stop. 
Because it's Uncle Jono. 

Jono's only just getting started about thinking about stopping when suddenly 
the tunnel turns a corner - for the first time in all this time - and they 
find themselves in what looks to be a cellar of some kind. In one of the far 
corners is a large pile of hay that stretches out across most of the floor; 
the other corners are filled by large sacks of what could be grain  stacked 
all the way up to the ceiling. Said ceiling looks to be made of wood? Jono 
gestures to Kevin, who raises the witchlight. Yes, it's wood. 

"Anyone know this place?" Jono asks, his voice just hovering at the whisper 
level. 

"Cellar of the mill tower," Kirk replies, also whispering. "I think this 
might be a good place to stop. The kids are getting tired." 

Jono nods, then turns to the kids. "Okay, everyone," he says, talking only 
barely above a whisper. Various kids stop and tap others on the shoulder so 
they can all pay close attention. "We've found ourselves a nice safe spot to 
sleep tonight. The Deal's still going on, though, so I need everyone to be 
quiet. There's a pile of hay over there so you can get some of that to sleep 
on. Sleep well, everyone!" He tries to keep his voice cheery, but it's 
difficult when you're trying to keep your voice down. Still, the spirits of 
the children seem to be adequately raised, and so they head over en mass to 
the haystack, gathering bits of hay for places to sleep. 

Jono turns to the others. "Watches?" 

"Dana and I, Perry and Kevin, you and Jo," Kirk says quickly. "I think you 
two ought to take third, Perry and Kevin take second, while the two of us 
take first. You're all very tired from the ordeal, and need to get your 
sleep." 

Jono doesn't argue; instead he simply nods. "Agreed here." 

Nobody else voices an objection, so Kevin sets the stone projecting the 
pseudo-witchlight down in the center of the room so the two on watch can see, 
and then Kirk and Dana each pick a spot opposite each other, leaning against 
the sacks of grain as everyone else settles down to sleep. 

** 

12/24 - 11pm 

Two figures moved slowly down the corridor. Both moved with a care and 
stealth that bespoke many long years of ambush and fighting. Coming to an 
intersection they stopped. The man in the lead was tall, with hard eyes that 
stared at the world from beneath a tangled mane of hair. Gold rings decorated 
his ears and hands. In spite of the relative warmth of the Keep, he was 
dressed in a thick fur coat. In his hands was a spear longer then he was 
tall. Gold covered the blade at the tip and runes covered the wooden handle. 

"Ferwig, we are close to him," said the woman behind him. The three rings in 
her right ear jingled as she nodded to emphasize her point. Like her 
counterpart she was dressed in heavy furs. Unlike him she carried no obvious 
weapons. 

"How close Teria? Which way?" Ferwig asked. 

Her gloved hand pointed to the left, down a hallway. "In that direction forty 
feet. Around a corner," she answered in a confident voice. 

The man nodded and moved off in the indicated direction. In a moment they 
reached a corner and both stopped. Ferwig quickly peered around the corner 
and then pulled his head back. "There's nothing there," He told her. "No 
guard, no sentry post, not even a door." 

Teria closed he eyes and muttered an incantation under breath. She stood 
unmoving for a moment, then pointed off in the direction they had just come 
from. "Now it is that way, thirty yards." 

Ferwig muttered a curse under his breath and started off back down the 
corridor. The weird magic of this place was unnerving him. He knew it was 
unnerving Teria as well, but she would never admit it. They had entered the 
Keep with four others but Ferwig and Teria had lost them. No dramatic fight 
or insidious trap, Ferwig and Teria had turned a corner and lost sight of the 
others for a moment. They turned back around the corner and the others were 
gone, and so was the corridor they had been in. All they found was a door 
leading to an empty room. No amount of magic could turn up any trace of what 
had happened to the other four. They couldn't spare any time to search for 
them, they simply had to push onward without them. 

They had gone about twenty feet they came to a door set in one wall, a door 
that hadn't been there before. The sign on it read simply "Patrol Master" in 
gold inlayed lettering. Below those words was the image of a bow and a boot, 
also in gold inlay. No guards blocked their way. 

Teria passed her hand over the door and its knob with her eyes closed. She 
opened her eyes and looking at her partner, shook her head, indicating that 
the portal was not protected by any magic or traps. Ferwig gripped his spear 
and nodded his head towards the door. 

The woman calmly began a quiet incantation, moving her hands in small 
circles, until a dull red glow started to eminent from her fingertips. Ferwig 
kicked in the door with a heavily booted foot. 

Teria pointed her hands into the room, "FA SHUM," she shouted and the glow 
shot off her hands and raced through the door. A brilliant flash of light and 
dull boom lit up the room and flames licked at the doorframe for a moment, 
then died down. Spear in hand, Ferwig rushed through the door with Teria 
close behind. 

** 

  End part 14 

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