[Vfw-times] MK Winter assault part 20

[COkane8116 at aol.com]

It wasn't the heat or the crackling of the flames, or even the smoke that 
snapped Jacob from his restful slumber. No, it was the crash made by part of 
his front wall as it collapsed that caused the fox to open his eyes then jump 
to a standing position on his bed. 

The house itself was an inferno. The fox wrapped the thick quilt around 
himself, though not for warmth.  This time it served to keep him from going 
up with the rest of the house. Being waddle and daub, it was going up very 
quickly. A creak from one of the roof support beams made him snap his head up 
and see the flames crossing the roof. He was distracted from that sight by 
the sounds of coarse laughter from outside. Looking, he could make out three 
Lutins laughing and jeering at him from the other side of the flames. Another 
creak in the roof demanded his attention again. 

Snarling at the Lutins and the fire, Jacob contemplated the rock and the hard 
place he was caught between; death by fire, or death by sword. When a wad of 
burning roofing materials fell onto his bed, causing him to barely spring out 
of the way and the Lutins to roar harder, he pretty much decided to take the 
hard option. His shovel, where it leaned against the wall near the small pile 
of the rest of his tools, gave him something to even the odds with those 
Lutins. Flipping up the quilt to protect his ears, he grabbed the shovel and 
made a snarling leap through the flames engulfing the front of his house. 

The Lutins had not expected him to do that and so were sufficiently startled 
to give him a decent landing space. Using his forward momentum, he managed to 
bring up the shovel in time to slap the metal end across the face of one 
Lutin. He went down clutching his face, leaving Jacob to deal with his two 
friends. They backed off to either side, quite wary now of whom they were 
dealing with. 

Jacob flipped the shovel around so that the spade end was pointed outwards 
and he was holding in a classic grip for a quarter staff. He was thankful now 
that he had training with such a weapon in his time with the militia. 
Shrugging off the smoking quilt, he folded his ears back and lunged at the 
closest Lutin with a howling battle cry. 

Never having fought a midnight black shape wielding a shovel like he was now, 
the Lutin was taken quite by surprise. He also had not expected any real 
fight. Most keepers tended to stay in their homes while they burned as 
opposed to risking the flames to get to safety. And if they did, few came 
armed and crazed as this creature. He blocked the first strike, though the 
shovel almost jarred lose his sword. The Lutin barely got both hands on the 
hilt before another jarring blow from this crazy keeper rocked the weapon to 
the other side. Alas, the snow was causing him problems and he was not able 
to back up fast enough to avoid the keeper's return swing. The shovel, 
heavier than the lutin's sword and backed with the strength of the angry 
keeper, hammered through his parry by sheer mass.  The night exploded in 
white before the cold snow collected him. 

Snarling like a wild animal, Jacob swung again and again at the stunned 
Lutin. But it was only on his third strike that he managed to hit flesh, 
cracking the skull of his opponent with the metal of the spade head. He would 
have finished the business right then and there but a guttural cry from 
behind reminded him there was more than one of these little bastards to deal 
with. The last Lutin's lunge was met by a thrust of the sharp end of the 
shovel to his belly. 

But the shovel did not penetrate the flesh, for this Lutin was fortunate 
enough to have a set of some kind of armor on. Instead he was lifted off his 
feet to fall to the snow like a puppet with no strings, clutching his 
stomach. Jacob retracted his weapon, swung it around behind him for momentum, 
his paws sliding down the shaft to the end, then brought it down as hard as 
he could on the Lutin's head. The attacker went down with a sick crunch and a 
small splattering of gore on the trampled snow. 

Then there was time to deal with the second Lutin. Not altering his grip, 
Jacob swung the shovel back around him. Unfortunately the downed Lutin had 
struggled to his feet and was caught on the side of the chest by the shovel. 
Still, the blow was enough to lift him from his feet and send him tumbling 
into the snow a few feet away. The fox was on him at once, bringing down the 
flat end of the shovel into the startled and blooded green face.  The lutin's 
body jerked and spasmed, flailing as it fell back into the snow with a spray 
of dark blood from the crushed ruin if its face. 

The blow jarred Jacob's arms and snapped the shovel a third of the way up 
from the spade end. Bringing up the shovel, his ears perked up and his eyes 
grew wide as he looked at the splintered wood through the snow and by the 
light of the raging fire. It was hard to say what was more surprising to the 
fox; the fact that it had broken at all, or that he had hit the Lutin that 
hard! His ears turned as the crunch of snow came from behind him. 

It was well known that lone Lutins are cowardly creatures. The one that Jacob 
had hit first out of the house was on his feet once again, trying to scramble 
away from the battle-crazed keeper. Just the mere sight of the creature was 
enough to enrage the fox, and Jacob hunched over, his ears laying flat 
against his head as he howled his outrage at this thing that would dare 
destroy his home. With a quick initial spring, he managed to close the 
distance between himself and his target in less than ten strides, bringing 
down the shovel handle against the back of the leather helmet that covered 
the Lutin's head. Another wet, grinding crunch and the last of the initial 
attackers joined his friends. But Jacob kept swinging and swinging at the 
fallen lutin, beating the body of the one who had tried to burn him with his 
home, pouring all his rage out into the assault. 

Only when he had exhausted the fierce battle energy did he stop. Panting over 
the smashed and battered body, his breath coming in white clouds, Jacob could 
scarily believe he had just done that. A crash from behind him snapped him 
out of his stupefied paralysis and he looked back towards his house. He was 
just in time to witness the rest of the roof collapse, sparks and flames 
shooting out of the sides. The other houses next to his own were also burning 
by that point.  Slumping his shoulders and sighing, he looked at the bloodied 
end of the shovel in his paw then threw it away in disgust. 

In a matter of moments he had lost his home since childhood, his possessions, 
his half written stories, everything that meant anything to him to fire, and 
brutally taken the lives of those responsible for it. A swirl of icy wind cut 
through his cheek fur, making him thankful that he had been too tired to 
remove his clothes when he had gotten home. Flipping his hood up over his 
head, Jacob tried to decide where to go from there. And what happened to 
cause it in the first place! The glint of firelight on steal drew his 
attention to a sword on the ground. It was dented, dull, rusted, and most 
defiantly a Lutin weapon. But it was still a weapon. Hefting the short sword 
in his paw, Jacob set off in the direction of the main Keep. 

Of course, the snow provided most of his problems. Not only the fact that it 
was cold and stinging, but the fact that it was blowing almost directly 
across his path meant that he couldn't look straight ahead. He was forced to 
trudge through the drifting snow with one paw held up before his eyes and the 
wind trying to tear the coat and tail from his back. He had made it about a 
half block before it struck him that he was the only one out in that white 
hell. None of his rather numerous neighbors were fleeing for the Keep, nor 
were there any lights on in their houses. Taking a little detour to get a 
closer look at one of the shops, Jacob discovered that the local candle 
maker's was empty, the whole front smashed in. Well, that would explain the 
rest of the people. As he turned back into the wind, he couldn't help 
consider the irony of having the entire neighborhood leave on a mass exodus 
the one night that he chooses to get falling down drunk. At least he did not 
need to worry about fighting his way to the keep. At least not yet. 

He saw the first Lutin in another block. At least that  was what the faint, 
shadowed blur smelled like. The Lutin had a torch, which he was vainly trying 
to keep lit while staggering against the wind. Jacob decided to wait until he 
had passed. Cutting down a small alley he noticed to his left to avoid the 
wind, Jacob quickened his pace to a jog. Four Lutins, no keepers, no 
neighbors. Were it not for the fact that his paws were freezing and his ears 
felt like they were going to break off from the cold he would swear this was 
one very bad nightmare! As it was, it had the markings of an excellent horror 
story should he have the opportunity to write it. 

The next main street he came out was close to the eastern outer walls. He 
could make out the warehouses that lined the wall and, much to his horror, 
one of the main guard towers on the wall engulfed in flames. It was quite a 
blaze, to be seen through the blowing snow. Jacob was just about to head up 
the road, sticking close to the sides of the buildings, when the storm 
suddenly died down around him. 

Jacob blinked around, turning this way and that to see what the hell 
happened. It was explained to him by the arrival of close to fifteen humans, 
all dressed for the weather, and all looking to have come right from battle. 
In their center was a woman holding up a staff, the top of which glowed with 
a brilliant white light. Their arrival so stunned Jacob that the poor fox did 
not react until they had seen him as well. The leader, the woman with the 
staff, turned in his direction and told the men, "There's another one of 
those creatures. Kill it." That was all he needed to know, and Jacob was off 
like a shot, five of the humans fast behind him. 

The alleyways back the way he came seemed like a good option to him, so he 
ducked down there. The downside to them was that he no longer had the 
blizzard to cover his tracks, the buildings largely blocking the wind. He was 
just thankful to be an animal fleet of foot and for the head start he had on 
his pursuers. Their voices echoed off the walls around him as he ran, 
calling, taunting, threatening him. He ignored them totally, except to gauge 
where his attackers were coming from. But these mercenaries were better than 
he had expected, coming at him from more than one direction. And his hopes of 
eluding them in the alleys ended when he almost ran smack into the wall at 
the end of a blind alley. He would have gone back but for the brutish human 
blocking the mouth of the alley. 

"Hey guys, I found it!" he yelled before drawing his sword. It was a full 
long sword, and between that and his own arm length, it gave the mercenary 
better reach than Jacob. The fox paced at the end of the alley, a growl 
boiling in his throat as he debated what to do. He didn't have long to think 
as two of the other three showed up. He caught a quick exchange asking where 
the last one was then dismissing it, saying he would show soon enough. The 
two new arrivals drew their swords and started into the alley. 

Jacob snarled loudly at them, his lips pulled up from all his teeth and his 
fur bristling up on his neck and tail as he took the deplorably made Lutin 
sword in both his paws. The mercenaries just chuckled at that, their breath 
coming out in white plumes. Well, if he was going to die, he was at least 
going to try and take one of them with him. Spreading his legs, he raised his 
sword and waited. 

If he had not been wandering around in the darkness so long the flash of 
light would not have almost blinded him, Jacob later considered. The 
mercenary on the left of the trio never got the chance as he was thrown 
forward, quite dead, by the blast of magic. His two comrades whirled to face 
the new threat, the one that had been in the middle taking a similar blast to 
the front. Jacob saw that the body had a large smoking hole in the chest with 
his heart swinging like a pendulum as it skidded to a stop in the snow a few 
feet from him. 

With two of the humans out of the way he could now make out the shape at the 
mouth of the alley. Only a mage could have killed those humans like that, and 
both Jacob and the remaining mercenary knew that. He was charging the mage, 
sword above his head and yelling some foreign battle cry, as the fox watched. 
The figure at the end of the alley drew his own weapon and blocked the 
initial assault before locking in combat. There was a brief struggle before 
one of the shapes went down clutching his chest. The second bent over to 
retrieve something; a dagger Jacob believed could make it out before the 
other returned both weapons to their resting place. The shape started to 
leave before looking back at the fox. "Well? Are you going to just stand 
there or are we going to get the hell out of here?" 

Jacob just blinked at the stranger who had saved his life, then decided that, 
yes, that advice sounded pretty good to him. Gingerly stepping past the 
charred bodies, he ran up joined the other, quite thankful for his excellent 
night vision. When he reached the stranger, Jacob could see that he was a 
raccoon, though with a thick coating of show and ice. "You should know, 
there's a fourth one of these guys out there." 

"I already know about him," said the raccoon as he started off. "How do you 
think I found you? He won't be a problem any longer. Now come on. I can sense 
another mage around here, and I'm pretty sure they picked up on what I just 
did." 

He had seen the other mage and was not about to argue. Instead he quickened 
his pace and tried to keep up. The raccoon led him down back alleys, places 
where Jacob stumbled and had to work to pick his way around obstacles. 
Fleetingly, he wished he was a mage and had some form of magic sight to rely 
on. Eventually the two came to a large doorway, set back a few feet into a 
building. The raccoon chose that as he resting place, slumping against the 
wall, and huddling down as far away as he could get from the wind. Jacob took 
a seat opposite him. 

"Well, I suppose introductions are in order," the raccoon commented as he 
blew on his paws in an effort to warm them. "I'm Rickkter, a war mage from 
the Keep itself. You?" 

"Jacob." He paused, his tongue darting out to lick his nose. His breath 
clouded from his hard breathing. "Um, story teller, master of nothing." 

Rickkter had been looking out at the alley and promptly did a double take. 
"Story teller?! What in the nine hells are you doing out here? From what I've 
seen everyone else headed for the main Keep when that army hit the outer 
walls." 

The fox tilted his head, frowning. 

"The, uh, large ugly Lutin army that attacked from the north. The one that 
chewed through our vanguard, the guards on the walls, and from what I've seen 
most of this damned town." He blinked at Jacob's startled reaction. "You mean 
you don't know anything about it?!" 

Jacob's ears went flat against his skull. "I was asleep. I had too much to 
drink tonight." 

The raccoon rubbed his face. "You weren't the only one." He turned back to 
the alley. "Well, our first order of business should be shelter. We defiantly 
can't stay here the night. Do you know this part of the town?" 

"I do," Jacob said with a nod. 

"Good. I can keep their mages from sensing us, and I can keep us away from 
their troops, you just have to tell us where to go." Rick perked up his ears. 
"And hope they've not burned it down first." 

"True. But a question: how can you feel them but were cut off from coming 
back for so long? Couldn't you find your way in this soup?" 

"No," Rick growled. "They had a dampening field that blinded any of us with 
magic sight, but that's mostly lifted now. I guess after they hit the keep 
they didn't feel it was necessary any longer. And when they did, I found I 
had gone right by the Keep in the snow and had to turn around. And then deal 
with those patrolling the parameter to get here. Actually, can you get me 
somewhere higher? I want to see if they've broken the defenses of the Keep 
itself yet." 

Jacob thought for several moments, rubbing his cold paws as the wind ruffled 
his tail were it was folded across his feet. "Okay, I think I know the 
perfect place for you. It has four stories and overlooks most of the houses 
around it, giving a clear view of the Keep." 

Rickkter stood and told him they should get going now, before any other 
patrols happened across them. Jacob nodded and led the way out. When they 
turned the corner of the building, it was right into a blast of icy winter 
air. 

"Why couldn't I have been turned into a bloody snow leopard?" grumbled Rick 
as he ducked his head and trudged onwards. The fox was guiding them based 
almost solely on memories and rumors about Metamor he had been accumulating 
since childhood. They made it up several blocks and across another one of the 
main thoroughfares before Rickkter brought them to a stop at the mouth of the 
alley they had exited. 

"What the hell's going on?" Jacob yelled at the raccoon in order to be heard 
over the howling winds. 

The mage moved over and blinked a few times before turning and retreating 
into the sheltering alley. "Lutins," Jacob barely heard him pronounce. "Two 
groups of them. They appear to think that the other group is of keepers and 
are trying to kill them off. I've seen a few of them engaged in similar 
conflicts before running into you." 

"But... but surely they'll realize that it's their own kind after they don't 
see anything but Lutin's attacking them." 

When the raccoon turned back Jacob could swear he was giving him a sardonic 
grin, even through the fox couldn't really see it for the dark and snow. "In 
this weather they'll be lucky to see the person they're attacking as anything 
but an indistinct blob with a sword. Now can we cut through here or not?" 

"Where are the lutins?" the fox yelled as he turned and squinted into the 
driving snow.  He had no idea how the raccoon could see anything, because he 
could barely see half a dozen paces ahead of them.  The mage put a hand on 
his shoulder as he leaned close and pointed down an intersecting street. 

"That way, fifty paces, heading parallel to the alley we're in."  It took two 
repetitions almost in Jacob's ear before he made out the entirety of the 
statement. 

He nodded at length, "Good. We don't need to. It's just up here a ways and 
the Lutins are working their way south, away from us." 

The raccoon was hunched over, paws resting on his knees. He panted and 
nodded. "Good. They're the only groups near us. Let's get going." 

  End part 20 
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