<HTML>   Now can can get back to the regular story :) ****** "Thank you all for arriving promptly.  What do you have to report?" There was a moment's hesitation, as Raven cast her gaze around the circle of priests. Most of them looked weary from the frantic activity of the last several hours, though they clearly realized that this matter was too grave for lack of sleep to sway them from their duties. All the same, fatigue was taking its toll, and no one seemed quite sure who should be first to address the Lothanasa. It was Brother Cardiff who first broke the silence. "The Baron of Komley has promised his support," the red-haired man said quietly, the wrinkles in his brow twitching slightly. "He will dispatch a troop of horsemen as soon as they can be made ready." "Excellent," Raven nodded in satisfaction. "I fear it shall take them several days to reach us, but any assistance will be welcomed. Sister Heldah, what news from Sorin?" Heldah grimaced, shaking her head slightly. "It appears doubtful at best, Lothanasa. Sorin was raided by pirates last September and many of our finest men fell in defense of the city. The elders fear that sending any troops at this time would leave us defenseless against another attack." "The city elders would do well to remember their fealty to Lord Thomas," Raven said, her blue eyes as hard as ice. "See to it that they do not forget." "Of course, Sister hin'Elric." The wolf-woman turned her attention to Brother Larkspur, a tall and rather scrawny young man who had only recently become the head priest of his temple. "And what of Merith?" she asked him. "Have they also suffered from these pirate raids?" "No, Lothanasa," Larkspur said, shaking his head. "The town has been peaceful this year. The baron is reviewing his forces now, and he has promised to send them no later than noon today. We do not have much of an army, but what we have is at Lord Thomas' disposal." "Good." Raven turned her eyes on Brother Holdeman, who up till now had been sitting quietly. "What about Midtown, Brother Holdeman? You have the largest military force of any represented here, apart from Metamor itself -- and you are one of our closest neighbors, besides. Has the baron reached a decision?" The gray-haired man sighed, folding his hands in his lap. "Metamor's request is ... under advisement," he said wearily. "The baron has said he will debate it today with the members of his council. You will have an answer before sunset." Raven frowned. "I had expected better of Midtown," she said, half to herself. "They have more to lose than many if Metamor should fall." Holdeman shrugged, somewhat helplessly. "I know not his motivations, only his message." "I understand," Raven assured him. "Contact me as soon as you hear anything more -- and do what you can to influence their decision." "As you say, Sister hin'Elric." Finally, the high priestess turned to Myers and Byron, the priests of Lorland and Mycransburg. Apart from Raven, they were the only clerics present who lived in Metamor Valley. "Has the storm shown any sign of clearing near you, gentlemen?" Myers shook his head. "Afraid not, Lothanasa," the stag replied. "Everyone's still in the castle, hoping we can wait it out." "Byron?" "Nasoj seems content to bottle us up until he's finished with Metamor," the gendermorph shrugged.  "A couple of cold hardy scouts have spotted at least a hundred, perhaps more, Lutins in the shelter of the tree line just beyond easy loft of our ballista or trebuchet."  She shrugged a bit, "I am going to review the situation at first light and see if anything can be done." Raven sighed, putting a hand to her forehead and gently rubbing her temples. "Very well," she said. "You all know what to do. Cuialye lothan, all of you." The other clerics repeated the ancient salutation, then faded from view. A moment later, Raven was once again seated on the floor of her bedchamber. The candles that lined the Circles had burned low in their stanchions. Rising to her feet, she extinguished them with a wave of her hand. Stretching her arms overhead and yawning as only a wolf can, she sent up a silent prayer to Dokorath for the soldiers of Metamor before reentering the main hall of the temple. The dawn sacrifice had already been performed, and Merai and Celine were sitting quietly on the floor, sharing a breakfast of bread, butter, and tea. "Good morning, Sister Raven," Merai said, smiling up at her. The bags under her eyes made it obvious that she had been up all night. "Good morning Merai, Celine," Raven said, nodding to both of them. Abruptly, her eye caught hold of something: three still forms lying on the floor near the end of the hall. "What happened?" she asked, her brow creasing in a frown. "Injured townsfolk," Celine replied. She smiled a little. "Lady Kyia saw fit to let in a score or so of survivors from the battle outside." Raven shot Merai a serious look. "No one has left, have they?" "Oh, no. They arrived during the third watch of the night, and the doors shut quickly behind them. Nothing else came in with them, either," Merai added, answering the wolf-woman's unspoken question. "Good." She considered the two men and the girl a moment longer. "Their prognosis?" "Very good," Merai assured her. "Just a few arrow wounds, nothing serious." Satisfied with that, Raven sat down with the other two women. They ate in silence for several minutes, chewing thoughtfully as they watched the storm raging outside. "I wonder how the rest of the Keep is faring," Merai said quietly. "I don't know," the elder priestess replied. "I am hopeful, however, that we shall receive reinforcements from the south in a few days." Merai frowned at her. "How do you know?" she asked. Raven shrugged, letting a small smile form on her lips. "I have my methods." The cat-woman looked at Celine, as if wordlessly repeating her question. The acolyte's green eyes sparkled in a knowing smile, but she said nothing. Just then the temple doors opened, and a slender young woman wearing the colors of the Red Stallion stepped inside. As she came closer Raven recognized her as Daria hin'Leon, Merai's longtime friend and compatriot. From her aura and the set of her jaw, she seemed to have come here for more than idle conversation. "Good morning, Squire," Raven said, nodding at her as she approached. "How can we help you?" Daria stopped a few feet away and came to attention. "Lothanasa, I request your permission to join the battle in defense of Metamor." Raven gazed at her a moment, bemused. "No one can leave this temple, Daria. Lady Kyia has sealed us inside, as I said before. And, in truth, it seems to me that one squire would make little difference in the outcome." "I do not propose to go alone, Mistress Lightbringer," the redhead answered. "And I do not propose conventional battlefield tactics. The situation calls for a different approach." Slowly, Raven steepled her fingers. "I'm listening," she said. Briefly, and with increasing animation, Daria outlined her plan: a strike team composed of volunteers from within the temple would act as a stinging gadfly on the haunches of Nasoj's army, using their knowledge of the Keep to attack swiftly and silently in weakly defended areas and disappear without a trace. Through a combination of stealth and terror, they would harry the invading forces and wear them down, making them more vulnerable to assault by more conventional tactics. "It sounds like you are proposing to fight like thieves and bandits," Raven said with a wry smile. "Aye, Mistress," Daria nodded. "Kayla called it 'otrinca' warfare." "Kayla?" "One of the survivors who arrived last night," Celine said. "She works for Prince Phil in Intelligence." Raven scratched her chin thoughtfully for a moment. "Who would lead this team?" she asked. "You, Daria?" "Aye, ma'am," the warrior-woman said. "I _am_ being trained as a field officer, so I already know something of tactics. Kayla has pledged her assistance in planning the attacks." There was another long moment of silence as Raven peered deeply into Daria's eyes, as well as her aura. The girl was brave, quite obviously. She was also competent, if the reports Raven had heard from time to time were true. But most importantly, she sincerely believed that she could perform this task -- and perform it well. And self-confidence, Raven knew, could cover a multitude of shortcomings. "Your plan has merit," she said at last, rising once again to her feet. "But I believe I can give you something which will make it even more effective. Wait here a moment." Fifteen minutes later, after a brief descent through the depths of the Archives and into the Vault that lay beneath them, Raven returned bearing a small golden key. It was simply carved and unadorned, and it hung from a short gold necklace. "Take this," Raven said, offering the pendant to Daria. The young woman looked at it a moment, then took it from the priestess's hand. "What is it?" she asked. "A facilitator," Raven replied. "With this key, you can shape the passages of Metamor around you at will. It can only be used to travel to a place where the user has been before, but I doubt that will limit you much under the circumstances." She bared her teeth in a grim smile. "Imagine the enemy's surprise when you appear out of the very walls." Daria grinned broadly, fitting the chain around her neck. "How do I use it?" "Simply name your destination. Though I am not sure of the details, I believe it acts as a magical focus for Kyia's space-altering powers -- a channel to direct her energies without requiring her to concentrate on the task at hand. 'Tis less likely, then, that she will be distracted in her efforts to hold the enemy at bay." She placed a hand on Daria's shoulder. "You'd best be going now, Squire," she said. "I believe you have a strike team to assemble." The young warrior grinned once again, looking down briefly at the pendant around her neck. "Aye, Lothanasa. Thank you." With that, she turned and nearly ran out the door. Raven chuckled as she sat down again with Merai and Celine. Within hours, she guessed, Daria and her fellow warriors would be making life utterly miserable for the invaders down below. Nasoj's generals would _not_ be happy. She bit into a biscuit with a feral snap of her jaws, swallowed, and grinned broadly. This was looking to be a fine morning after all. ***   The stranger came in three more times, each time building more and more to their supplies, and more to their numbers… now nearing 50, as he brought more children, and soon afterwards, their lost parents.  A number of them had wounds, being saved just before a mortal blow could be inflicted.  After 4 hours, he stood by the door, as if keeping watch.  If someone chose to look closely, though, they would see his body shifting toward the door, as if something beckoned him to go out… just one more time.   "Are we packed?" he asked, the hood turning, so the silver head inside could glance at the crew as they bundled wood from the cord found for supplies into tight clothes to protect them from the weather.  Outside the blizzard battered at the cellar doors, as if knocking, and they dreaded when they would have to open themselves up and let it in,  "Start waking up, we leave in less than an hour." ***   End part 26</HTML>