<HTML> 12/24 - 9:30pm When Ryuo finally arrived at the doors to the Duke's chambers, he noticed the doors were ajar. Attentive to any possible threats, Ryuo threw open the door and looked into the room. It was a mess. There had obviously been fighting here, earlier; there were bodies all over the place, most of them Lutins. Their bodies seemed to have been left where they had fallen, and pools of tepid blood covered what could be seen of the floor, drawing a morbid mosaic upon the slate gray stone floor. Lifeless eyes stared at Ryuo from a myriad of faces, but the Duke's was not among them. This did nothing to assuage Ryuo's fears, however, as to the Duke's well-being. Turning to leave and continue his search for the Duke, a stir caught Ryuo's attention, accompanied by a pained groan. It came from a limp form in the corner, which Ryuo had not noticed before. As it sluffed off the dead weight of a Lutin corpse, Ryuo recognized the gold-furred pelt of Gil, one of the Keep's Regulars. Another groan escaped Gil's lips as Ryuo propped him up, slowly bringing the groggy lion back to consciousness. Slowly, the great cat opened his amber eyes and looked up at the fox's concerned face. "Ae-Aeryl?" He asked, squinting his eyes. Ryuo looked blank for a second and then glanced around. Lying behind an overturned desk was a human male-another one of the regular guardsmen of the Keep Ryuo had come to know. A broken short spear was protruding from his blood-soaked doublet. Ryuo turned back to the lion and shook his head. Closing his eyes, Gil sighed--which brought forth a sharp gasp as pain flooded his leg. Gritting his teeth, Gil grabbed at the offending appendage, drawing Ryuo's attention to the blood-soaked limb. The lion's pants were soaked in blood, but beyond that he could not tell what was wrong. Grabbing the fabric of Gil's trousers on either side of the leg, Ryuo tore the blood-soaked cloth open, exposing the limb beneath. With the obscuring cloth removed, Ryuo could easily tell that the limb had been broken. Gil hissed with a sharp intake of breath as Ryuo tried to clear the wound, but he refrained from crying out. Ryuo worked quickly, stripping off his belt-like sash and removing his swords from their scabbards. Carefully he placed his scabbards alongside the leg, and gingerly lifted it up, using his silk sash to create a temporary splint for the injured lion. As he worked, he put his own questions to Gil. "Where is Duke?" Ryuo managed to ask in his broken speech. "Back at feast hall... I think." Gil said between gasps, "The others took him... they're... keeping him safe." Finishing the knot, Ryuo contemplated what Gil said. Apparently, the Duke was at the Great Hall -- where the nobles and dignitaries were having a feast -- and probably safe. "Where is Ko?" Ryuo asked next, turning his thoughts back to Gil's injury. "I don't know," Gil said, still panting, "Probably with the Duke." Ryuo nodded at this, then looked down at Gil. The lion morph was too large and heavy for Ryuo to move anywhere, and if they were caught in the hallway they would both be sitting ducks. He needed a second person to help move the injured lion. Holding up the short tanto, Ryuo handed it to Gil. "I go and come." He said, "Wait. I go and come." Ryuo looked around the room, examining the layout. Carefully he moved some of the furniture around, obscuring the lion. Nobody entering the room would think twice that there might be someone in back, perhaps keeping Gil safe from the Lutins loose in the Keep. If they did find him, well, he had the tanto. At least he could kill himself before they could get to him. Taking one last look at the room, Ryuo took off for the Cathedral. There, he hoped, would be someone who could help. *** When the woman and her small group of soldiers had left the four Sondeckis alone in that intersection, the bodies of Lutins strewn about their feet, their minds began a new journey, despite the exhaustion that they all felt deep in their bones. After facing what had become of Wessex and the Shrieker, finding this new threat, one that promised to swallow them all and destroy everything they cared about, they discovered that they each possessed reserves of will that had heretofore been untapped. "Well," Charles said, retracting the Sondeshike into its compact form, "we're going to have to do something about this. If Nasoj is moving his troops into the city, then we will have to hold the Keep." "We can certainly help kill these Lutins," Jerome said, nudging a green head with his foot. "But we don't even know what's going on out there. We need some specific goal to rally around, not just killing random groups of Lutins. We need a plan of action, and others to follow it through with." Zagrosek rubbed his chin thoughtfully, tapping the ferrules of his Sondeshike upon one foot. He then cleared his throat and looked to his friends. "I would say our best bet is to find some safe haven that we can defend and launch counter-attacks from for now, and then, once we are sure of the situation, make more elaborate plans. I'm sure there are places in Metamor that would be fitting for such, assuming that they haven't been overrun already." The rat nodded, rubbing one paw through the fur of his bare chest. The tips of his brown fur had been singed in the fight with the Shrieker, though most of it was undamaged, for which he was grateful. "I know a good place for that. Though, I want you two to know, that by staying here you risk ending up like myself. We can not know how long this siege will last." Zagrosek shrugged, as did Jerome after a moment. "We are Sondeckis, and we are friends. If we must become animals, then so be it." Charles grinned, his two large incisors prominently displayed at the front of that smile. "Then let's go, there's no time to waste." Garigan shook his head though, his eyes very uncertain. "I'm not going there, Charles." The ferret declared quietly as a slow trickle of blood crept down from one corner of his muzzle. The damage to his teeth lent an odd lisp to his voice that in another circumstance may have been humorous. "What?" Matthias asked, turning to face his student in surprise. "I'm not going to the Long House, I know that is what you have thought of. It would be the best place to hold, you are right, but there is something else that I am thinking of. I want to go back to Glen Avery. If Nasoj is attacking, then his forces had to pass by my home. I have to know if it is still there." "Glen Avery?" Jerome asked, looking between the two Keepers, neither of which paid much attention to him at the moment. "Garigan, that is a five hour carriage ride to the North. Even in the summer, with Nasoj's army out there, it would be extremely dangerous. There is a blizzard all around us right now, and the temperature is too cold to go walking around in. We have to go to the Long House. The Glenners can take care of themselves." Obstinate, The ferret glared back at the rat, the expression exaggerated by the blood smearing his chin, "When I came here to Metamor, it was under your promise that I could leave at any time I choose once I became a green; once I could control my emotions. I choose now to leave Metamor, and to leave your service. I will go to Glen Avery, no matter what snowstorm is out there, and no matter how many Lutins Nasoj has stacked in my way. Nothing will keep me from my people. Nothing!" Charles looked at the face of determination his student wore, and remembered well his words to Garigan when he'd first taken him on as his pupil in the Sondeck. Never had he thought they would come back to haunt him like this. Unable to look into the drown eyes of the ferret, he turned instead to Jerome and Zagrosek, who stood quietly, watching them both with a curious gleam in his dark eyes, waiting to see whose will would come to fruition. "Well, you both can find your way to the Long House. Just head back to the Sondeckis Shrine. The other door leads into the Long House where you will find a fox named Misha. You can help with the defence there." Zagrosek peered curiously. "What are you going to do, Charles?" "I'm going with Garigan to Glen Avery." The rat declared, looking to his student. Garigan started at that, his stubborn eyes giving way to both surprise and delight. "I do not believe he could make it on his own, and so I will go with him to see to it that he makes it safely home to his people. We'll help with whatever needs to be done there to repel this invasion." Jerome shook his head. "If you are going to this Glen, then I am too." "And me," Zagrosek crossed his arms. "After seven years, we're finally together once again, you aren't getting rid of us that easily! Besides, four have a better chance of making it through this than two." Charles and Garigan exchanged glances, both of them filling with their new-found unity. The rat then peered back at the two human Sondeckis and nodded. "All right, the first thin g we need to do is head back to my quarters. It's awfully cold out there, and we'll need warmer clothes." Jerome laughed slightly. "Do you really think you'll have anything in our size?" "You managed to get here in this storm didn't you?" Matthias replied, smirking, even as he set out down one of the passageways, scanning up and down the lamp lit corridor for signs of passage or ambuscade. "Come on, let's not waste time. We have to get past Nasoj's forces too, remember! That's not going to be easy either!" The other three were quick on the rat's heels, Jerome at the back, casting his eyes down the passageway behind them, and at the bodies still piled unceremoniously in the hallway. They would eventually be cleaned up he knew, but for now they were a testament to the battle that had begun all around them. Already they could hear the distant, muffled din of other battles coming from all directions, none of them close enough to let the four intervene. Zagrosek and Garigan were between the rat and hulking human, both eager and prepared for whatever lay ahead as Charles forged the path. Their hearts were stirring, the apparent ceaseless energy of the Sondeckis quite discernible in each. These were the moments that they trained for, and even that they lived for. When they reached a wide staircase, Charles peered down the smooth steps, noting the way the shadows moved along either wall as the torches flickered in a small breeze. It was cold, so they knew that somebody had opened a door or a window nearby. Yet only the dry scent of snow rose to them on that wind, nothing else. Uncertain, the rat descended the steps anyway, taking them one at a time, clutching the compact cylinder that was his Sondeshike, running his claws across its smooth surface. It was cold, like the wind, but when he extended it, his own energy would warm it. Halfway down the steps, he thought he heard a noise from below, some muffled voice. Holding up his paw to the others following after him, he peered closer into the subtle light. No other sound came to him as he waited, is breath held in check within his chest. All that he could hear was his heart thumping in his chest, threatening to break through his rib cage and spill out onto the floor. His tail drew in close to his legs, the scalded section stinging slightly as it ran across the fabric of his breeches. Finally, he slowly lifted one foot-paw, and began to measure his way down the steps again Before he had set that paw back upon the granite steps though, a sudden muffled clanging rose to him from the other side of the hallway. Drawing his claws back from the stone, he quickly and silently darted to the other side of the staircase, pressing his back to the wall, feeling its chill touch reach through his fur and send a shiver down his spine. Doing his best to ignore the discomfort he signalled to the others to wait, but be prepared. He found himself unconsciously using the Long Scout signals, but apparently, his meaning was made clear, as Zagrosek nodded, holding out his extended staff in both hands. Charles did not dare extend his own though, at least not yet, for it would ring like a man drawing a sword, and alert whoever waited behind that wall of his coming. Finally, standing upon the last step before the wall turned, he heard that muffled slap yet again. The cold wind blew past his face, disturbing the fur on his muzzle, and making his whiskers twitch in annoyance. It was nearly enough to make him sneeze, but he held his breath in check still. Pressing his teeth tightly together, he spun about the corner, extending the Sondeshike as he did so, and drove it home into a large bundle of cloth that was swaying in the wind. Blinking, he scanned up the curtain to see white plumes of snow filling the space behind it, and an unlatched window opening and swinging on the wind, banging against a crude steel grapnel and broken length of hemp rope that had caught in the hinges. A small smile broke out onto his muzzle as watched the snow settle about his feet. Reaching forward, he freed the drapery, and pushed it aside, then pulled the forgotten climbing aid into the stairwell and set it quietly against the wall. He grabbed the window latch and sealed it, closing out the chill wind. Turning back up the staircase, he motioned for the rest to come down, trying not to laugh at his foolishness. "It was just a window. You can breathe again." Zagrosek grabbed the curtain and drew it across the snowy pane. "Are you crazy standing in front of this thing? How did you know a Lutin wasn't watching?" Matthias peered at the thick hemp and shook his head. "I doubt anybody could see through the blizzard. However, you are right, that was foolish of me. I'm thrice a fool in fact. Lutins could very well have been standing behind that other wall and left this open to trap any unsuspecting Keepers." Curling his paws about the extended Sondeshike he sighed. "Well, my room is just down the hall. Let's keep moving." It did not take them long to reach the familiar wide oak door that led to the rat's chambers. Garigan rushed into his own chambers just inside, and disappeared around the corner. Jerome was quick to follow him, but nodded as he saw things were in order. The ferret was peering into his mirror and looking at the cut along his gums where his front two teeth had been. He blanched in distaste before looking away. Charles reached into his closet and drew out some of his thickest clothes and began to slip them on. "I have to let Misha know where we've gone, that way they won't worry about us too much. Can you hit the bottom of my ink bottle a few times, Krenek? It was getting a bit dry the last time I used it." Zagrosek picked up the small black bottle form Matthias's desk and began to shake it, tapping the flat bottom with two fingers. He watched the rat pull on two tunics and another pair of breeches, this one reaching down to his ankles. "Do you have boots?" Charles shook his head forlornly. "No, with paws like these, nothing fits comfortably or effectively. " The rat lifted one leg and splayed his long toes out to demonstrate. "I do have some thick socks I sometimes wear, but on ice I would have trouble standing in them. No, it is best that I go barefoot." Luckily enough his rodentine paws were better able to withstand the cold than human feet, the blood circulation in them reduced to the merest of warming trickles when he was about in cold weather. Grunting, Zagrosek set the ink bottle down, and pulled his black cloak from inside his tunic. "Well, I just hope this wind dies down some, otherwise we're going to freeze to death before we make it halfway." He drew the black cloak over his shoulders, until the robe was dangling at his shins, the symbol of the Sondeckis proudly gazing back at the right from the man's breast. "I've been thinking about that," Charles said, even as he pulled his own black cloak overtop of the double layered clothes. "There might be a way to reach Glen Avery without spending much time outside. I just hope they're okay. We'll need their help to find it!" "Who?" Jerome asked as he climbed into his robe, drawing it tightly about him. The soot from the fire in Wessex's quarters still clung to the thick wool. "Who's help do we need?" "Some of my fellow rats," Charles said, a grin crossing his muzzle that he was not aware of. "The cellars here at Metamor are quite extensive, nobody has explored them fully. I have some friends that have lived down there for several years now. They know them pretty well, and if there is a way out under the walls of the Keep heading towards Glen Avery, they would know about it." Garigan came back out of his room, his green robe drawn tightly about his chest. His tongue was licking absently at the cut, cleaning up the blood on his muzzle. "We might be able to get past Nasoj's army that way." "True," Charles said, nodding, even as he moved over to his desk. "But then again, Nasoj might be using those tunnels as well to move his troops in." Jerome looked to Zagrosek and then back to their furry companions. "We'll need hooded lanterns then, so that they won't see us coming. Do you know where we can find some?" "No, it is too dangerous to go look for a pair. I have two lanterns myself here, the one on my table and another beneath the desk. We're just going to have to do the best we can with those." Zagrosek picked one of the brass lanterns up in his hands, turning it over and peering at the wick inside. "How much oil are in these?" The rat shrugged, peering at them curiously. "I'm not really sure. I filled them up a month ago, but you best fill them up again. My oil flask is in that cupboard by my bed." While Zagrosek was searching the cupboard for the aforementioned oil, Jerome was reaching into the desk to find the other lantern. It was sitting inside the drawer as Charles had promised, and soon the two of them were one again brimming with the slightly aromatic fluid. The Sondeckis pondered the oil container for a few seconds before setting it aside. There was too little left in the container to warrant carrying it. The rat of course was scribbling out a short message on a single scrap of parchment. The ink had dried a bit, and he hit the bottle a few times himself before he was able to finish. Once finished, he gazed about the room and grimaced. "I put the message in code, Misha will know what it means, but even so, I don't want the Lutins finding it first. Garigan, can you hand me my sword?" "Since when did you use a sword?" Jerome asked, even as the ferret grabbed the short blade from behind the basket of chewsticks in one corner. "Since I became a Long Scout. Misha insisted. I'm not that bad apparently." Charles hefted the weapon a few times in his paws, and then gazed at his desk, his scent turning melancholic. Then, muttering a short apology to the piece of furniture, he brought his sword down into the frame, splintering the hickory. He raised his blade again and slashed at the wood, destroying his dresser once again. *** End part 15 </HTML>