<HTML> *** Once back in the main room Misha called over Finbar and all the Long scouts together in a group. Daria called her own people too and soon everyone from both teams stood together in the center of the room. "All right everybody, listen carefully. My name is Misha Brightleaf. I'm head of the Long Scouts and I've brought a team of Longs here to the temple. Daria is head of a group that's going out to strike at Nasoj. I want her team to stand in formation here in front of us." As the people assembled themselves in a ragged line Misha talked to Daria. "First we'll look your people over and see how they're equipped. Then we'll break up into small groups with the Longs and get some personal training done. That sound good to you?" A little over awed by the axe wielding vulpine, all she could do is nod. Misha and Daria began slowly inspecting each of Daria's volunteers. The first was a tall man, wearing a jerkin of leather studded with metal rivets. The man's hair was liberally sprinkled with the silver of age and wrinkles covered his face. His sole weapon was a long sword that Misha noted was lutin made. The man saluted smartly. "Private Morel, twelfth reserve sword regiment." Misha nodded in approval. "How did you get that?" Misha said tapping the lutin blade. "With this," came the answer as the man held up a large chopping knife. "Any one else here from your unit?" "No, I'm the only one I've seen so far." "All right. You'll do," Misha said nodding his head. The next person was barely in his teens. The leather jerkin he was wearing was a size too big. The short sword he was carrying seemed too big for him. He saluted. "Tornok Sir." "Have you changed yet?" Misha asked. "Not yet sir," he answered nervously. "But that won't stop me from fighting." Misha was silent for a long time staring at the boy. "I think you would better help us by helping to protect the temple." Looks of relief and disappointment flashed across Tornok's face alternately. "But Sir, I . . " The fox held up his hand silencing the boy. "They are going to find this place eventually and attempt to take it. I want you here to help defend it. A lot of innocent lives depend on you. You understand?" he said slapping him on the shoulder. The boy nodded nervously. "Yes sir." "Good. Go stand over there, ok?" Misha said pointing to Finbar. As Tornok moved off Misha turned to Daria. "Be sure he gets guard duty and that he's treated like a real soldier." "Yes Sir," Daria answered. "Call me Misha." "Yes, Misha." Next was a black bear morph dressed in chain mail and carrying a large battleaxe. The ursine pointed to Whisper, the battleaxe Misha was carrying nonchalantly in one hand. "Great minds think alike." Misha gave a chuckle. "And who might you be?" "Corporal Garulf of the first axe," answered the bear in a calm tone. "You'll do," commented the fox and moved to the next person. Misha recognized the red tailed hawk instantly. "You're Jessica, Wessex's assistant." "Yes," She answered. "Very good," the vulpine said, obviously pleased. "We're going to need all your magic." "Have you heard anything about Wessex?" the avian asked. "No," the fox answered. "I haven't seen him since yesterday. He was headed for Lorland, but with this storm there's no telling whether he left or not. He's on my list of people to find and protect. If he's in the keep, we'll find him." "Thank you," Jessica answered. "I hope the mage is fine. We'll need all the help we can," said a tall hawk morph standing next to Jessica. "Who are you?" Misha asked the stranger. The five foot tall avian was dressed in a blue surcoat. The hawk bowed to Misha. "I am Weyden." "One of Yonson's body guards?" the fox answered. It was more a statement then a question. "Yes, I have the honor of being a member of Ambassador Yonson's bodyguard." "Have you seen the ambassador since the attack started?" the Long Scout asked. A shake of the head was Weyden's answer. "No. I was here in the temple when it started. I was hoping that you might have some knowledge of him." "No, nothing yet but we'll keep a look out for him. Unfortunately we just don't have the people. Any idea where he might have been?" "He was going to stay in the ambassadorial apartments." "Nothing special planned?" Daria asked interrupting. The hawk shook his head. "No, Yonson's not a religious person." "All right. I'll see what I can do, but I can't make any promises." "Thank you. I'll be grateful for anything you can do." Standing next to the hawk was a nervous looking tomcat morph who was fidgeting in his chain mail armor. "Can you use that, Brenner?" Misha asked, pointing to the spear the feline was holding. Brenner took a step back and leveled his weapon at the fox. He jabbed at Misha several times sharply. Misha watched calmly as the razor sharp point breezed past his side. "Good. What unit are you with?" "The fourth reserve spear. Nicknamed the Hedgehogs!" Brenner answered with obvious pride. "Very good. How is Captain Farmer? I haven't seen him in a long time." "Good Sir," the feline answered.  "I'm dating his daughter Amanda. She's here in the temple." The cat's ears drooped. "I don't know where he is though. We were going to meet after the services, when he got off duty. Have you heard anything about him?" "Where was he on duty?" "Patrol, on the west wall, near the Bakers tower." Misha didn't answer for a moment but looked to the floor. "The curtain wall was breached and we have to assume that the whole wall was taken," the fox answered calmly. Brenner nodded. "I understand," he said in a faint voice. "Don't assume he's dead Brenner. All I know is that we haven't seen him yet. Even with one arm he's a tough old marmoset. No lutin could kill him." "Yes sir," Brenner answered, but his voice betrayed his doubt. Misha touched the feline on the shoulder. "Brenner, don't assume anything, until you actually see the body. I've been away on patrols so long that they've written me off for dead more then once." Brenner brightened at that comment. "You're right." Misha started to move on, and suddenly stopped. "You're only carrying that one spear? I suggest you get another one, or another weapon. Something shorter, like a sword, or a mace." The fox turned to Daria. "I suggest that everyone carry at least two weapons and a bow or javelin if possible." "There are only so many weapons to go around, Misha," Daria answered. "All right, do what you can. I suggest that your first target be the Keep armory. If we still hold it make sure it's well defended before you move on. If the enemy has taken it, retake it and hold it." "What if we can't retake it?" The woman asked. "Leave people behind to watch the place and come to Long House and tell us," Misha answered. "We'll send a strike force out and retake it." Daria nodded and took notes on a piece of parchment. "All right." "And while you're at the armory make sure you get all your people equipped with weapons and armor," the fox ordered. "Don't forget food and water," Finbar added walking up the group. "Very good point Finbar," the fox said as he moved to the next soldier in line. The tall, brown haired man next in line was calmly drinking from a bottle of wine. The fox simply grabbed the bottle and threw it over his shoulder. The man grunted in startled surprise, his face contorting in anger a moment before he swung a punch at the fox. Misha caught the man's fist in his gauntleted hand with a meaty smack. Then the fox gave a short rabbit punch straight in the man's face, knocking him to the ground. He was up in a moment and stood nose to nose with the fox; his face purpled with anger. The man was fuming but he did nothing, instead he just stood there glaring down at the fox. After a moment the anger faded as he let out a disgruntled sigh. "My apologies sir." Misha grunted noncommittally. "You are?" he asked. "Bradfox." "I hope you're better with that bow and arrows then you are with your fists." The man drew his bow and nocked an arrow. Then he took aim at a point on one of the great doors. A snap of the string and an arrow was buried in center of a decorative circle barely three fingers wide. "Nice. You'll need something better to protect yourself with than that dagger," the fox said pointing to the short blade on Brad's belt. "I have no intention of letting those green bastards get so close," came the answer. The Long scout turned to his counter part. "Daria, make sure he gets a sword, and that he carries it at all times." Then before the archer could complain he moved on to the next soldier. The next person in line was a young girl. Her dark brown hair framed a face that had barely entered puberty. She was fourteen, desperately trying to look sixteen. "How old are you?" Misha asked. "I'm an expert with the bow Sir," she replied. "That wasn't my question," the fox answered in a hard voice. "Fourteen and a half," came the reluctant answer. "No," Misha answered calmly. "You're too young to have even changed yet. You stay here at the Temple and stand guard." "NO!" the girl answered forcefully. "I'm ready to fight." Misha didn't counter her words, instead he took off a gauntlet and tenderly caressed her cheek. "You're too young and beautiful. If the lutins captured you alive you wouldn't last twenty minutes among those creatures.  Death is nothing compared to rape." He said quietly, his muzzle twisting with the disquieting memories of what had been done to his own love, Caroline, at the hands of Lutins.  She had recovered, at least outwardly, but he knew the hurts ran deep within her yet.  And she was out among the attackers even now, sent by his own orders to harass the foe.  Shaking his head slightly he moved off leaving the horrified girl behind. The girl started to protest but Daria shook her head. "I have to agree with Misha on this. We'll talk more about this later." "Yes my Lady." Next in line was the strangest. The fox recognized the tall carpenter ant instantly. "David! Its good to see you're alive. Where did you run off to?" David gave a bow, "Thank you, And I am sorry for worrying you but I had to make certain that my Library wasn't in danger of being sacked." The insect looked terrible, His dull leather jerkin was stained with blood. And a rent down the front showed an expanse of shiny carapace. Misha sighed, "I see getting here wasn't any easier for you than it was for me."   The insect's cloak was similarly gashed and torn, but it was difficult to see much of it in the shadows. It seemed almost to devour the light. The ant had outfitted himself for battle. His Staff hung in its baldric from his side, and a bandoleer of slender throwing blades hung over his chest. "I hope you've brought some of your magic as well as those," Misha commented.  The ant's mandibles clicked in a disquietingly strange ant version of a grin, "Of course." The towering man who was next in line had long black hair that fell loosely around his shoulders, his bronze-skinned arms rippling with even the small movements.  He looked down at Misha and Daria and smiled, his gray eyes glistening. "Good day to you," he said softly, his voice still carrying a commanding air. Misha started to ask a question but Daria spoke first. "I don't think so," she said calmly. The man scowled and Misha turned to her. "Why?" the fox asked. "Thomas needs to have a father," she answered. "Who is Thomas? You don't mean the Duke?" Misha asked. "Thomas is my son," the man answered. "His baby boy, barely six months old," Daria commented. "Step over there," the fox said pointing off to the corner. "I'm a superb fighter, you need me," Dana said. "We need you more as a father then as a fighter," Daria countered. "Agreed," the vulpine complimented. "But . . " "Take care of your son. He's the future of Metamor Keep," was all Misha said in a cold tone.  "I'm putting you in charge of those staying behind to defend the temple." "Yes sir," Dana said, his baritone voice resigned. Misha turned to Daria," Is that all of them?" he asked. "Yes Misha. I was thinking of keeping the group small at first. Then build on it from there when we have more experience." "An excellent idea," Misha agreed. "A small . . ." A heavy object landed on his head and a small reptilian face looked down at him. Daria smiled as Misha jerked his head back out of reflex, the small dragonet's wings flaring as it clung to its perch there, the fox staring up at it in surprise. "I think we have another volunteer." She chuckled. "Who might you be?" the fox asked. The image of a small bird entered their minds. "Your name is Starling?" Daria commented. And the small dragon nodded. "What can you do?" the woman asked. A jet of flame shot out of Starlings mouth. "That could come in handy," Misha commented patting out the flames on a nearby tapestry. "What else can you do?" The image that next came to them was of Starling holding a large shield. Arrow's and magic spells bounced off of the shield leaving the dragonet unharmed. "A eldritch shield?" Daria exclaimed and Starling nodded. "Excellent!" "A very useful ability," Misha agreed. "All right, you're in the team," Daria said scratching Starling's head. "A good looking team you have Daria," Misha commented. "Have you considered where you'll have you team go first?" "Well, no," Daria answered hesitantly. "I have an idea. My team was headed toward the armory next and your team needs more equipment. So why don't we join forces?" Misha asked. The girl nodded. "Sounds good." "All right," the fox said. "Let's go plan this thing out." ***   End part 28 </HTML>