<HTML> To Arms Daria stood before the altar in the Lightbringer temple, Rickkter and the other members of her strike team to her right. Merai stood to her left, her linen robes replaced by the more practical tunic, jerkin and leggings of a field cleric. Behind them were a group of about forty volunteers recruited from among the refugees in both the temple and the Patildor cathedral. At the back of the room stood the Long Scouts, Misha at their head. She wondered what the fox must be feeling, a devout Follower accepting the blessing of a Lightbringer god. Strange even for Metamor, but war did make strange bedfellows. She put those thoughts out of her mind and turned to the front of the room. Standing behind the altar, facing them all, was the Lothanasa. She, too, was dressed as a field cleric, her long hair tied back into a ponytail. A sword with a dragon-shaped handle hung in a scabbard at her belt. Everyone assembled already knew why they were here, of course. The group's weapons had already received the blessing of Dokorath -- though the Patildor among them only knew that they had been magically enhanced to do battle with the Moranasi, which was true -- and they were now awaiting any final words from the Lightbringer. "As I said once before, speeches will matter little in deciding the outcome of a battle," Raven said. "I shall not bore you with any further words, except to bless you for combat in the name of Lord Dokorath. If you wish to accept this, then accept it; if not, then refuse it. You need not say or do anything -- the attitude of your heart will be enough." The priestess stretched out her hands towards the group, and Daria bowed her head and closed her eyes. Raven spoke a good number of words very quickly in a language that Daria could not understand, and within moments she felt new strength and stamina fill her limbs. After a moment of silence, the Lightbringer spoke again. "Now. Let us go forth ... to victory." She strode to the back of the hall, nodded to Misha, and walked beside him as they filed out of the temple and through the narrow entrance corridor to the hallway outside. Father Hough was waiting beside the gates of the Temple, and he nodded respectfully to Raven as she went past. As Daria and her team slowly made their way forward, bringing up the rear behind the new recruits, she saw the boy-priest blessing the Patildor warriors as they walked by. She saw Misha again, kneeling in front of the Father, his great axe resting beside him. "I guess they figure we need all the gods we can get on our side, eh?" Rick remarked. Daria smirked. "Aye. Let's hope that the Shadow Bringers aren't doing the same thing." Once everyone was outside, Daria and her comrades filtered up to the front of the group to join Raven and the Long Scouts. "Everyone is ready, Madam Lightbringer," she reported. "Very well, then, Squire. We are right behind you." Nodding once, Daria grasped the Key and began to open the passage. ~0~ Merai ran her fingers along the expander bow at her belt, feeling its cool metal beneath the soft pads of her fingertips. This was the first real combat situation she had ever seen -- well, not counting the skirmish with the Hound back on Daedra'kema. She had been trained extensively, much of it under Master Misha's tutelage, but she still wasn't sure how she would handle an actual battle. In the end, though, Raven and Daria were by her side, and that went a long way towards easing her doubts. Daria paused at the wall before her, placing her hand up against it. She turned to the rest of the group. "Make ready," she whispered. All along the broad, empty room they had assembled in, the soldiers and civilian warriors took out their swords, knives, maces, axes, bows -- whatever weapon they had chosen to be blessed by Dokorath. They were gathered in small groups at various points along the wall, the idea being to attack the Moranasi from several angles. Merai took the bow from her belt and pressed the activation seal, expanding it to its full five-foot length. Opening the quiver on her back, she nocked an arrow and waited. When everyone had signaled that they were ready, Daria held up her free hand. Three fingers ... two ... one... The wall suddenly disappeared in front of Merai, and she rushed forward into the room with the others. ~0~ David could feel the mana around him as soon as he entered the room: a black, evil weave of magicka that prodded like icy fingers between the hardened plates of his neck and back. He could see the six hooded figures ahead of him, standing in a circle in the middle of the room. While he was blind to the intricacies of magic and could not recognize a spell on "sight", he had an instinctive ability to sense the mana around him -- and right now his instincts were telling him that something _very_ bad was beginning to take shape. A rush of thoughts whirled through his mind. He'd discovered some time ago that he had a natural, subconscious tendency to absorb, shape or dissipate the mana in any offensive spell directed at him, a "defense mechanism" of sorts that allowed him to weaken fireballs and other magical assaults. If he could tap into that now... Letting his large black eyes go blank -- as an ant, it was impossible for him to close them -- David stretched out towards the spell he felt forming around him. Something tugged at the corners of his mind, just slightly, and his mind abruptly tugged back in reflex. David followed that motion, consciously strengthening the "pull" that his subconscious had begun, and the trickle of mana widened into a stream. David felt the magical energy filling his body, as he drained it out of the Moranasi spell. Unconsciously, he subtly altered the shape of the mana as he absorbed it, changing it from a black-aspected form to a neutral one. In the room around him, he sensed the spell falter, crack, and finally crumble -- and the forming relay vanished like a puff of smoke. ~0~ Merai watched with her aura-sight as David reached out and dismantled the Moranasi spell, draining it of mana in a matter of seconds. The enemy mages turned towards him, looking startled, and for a moment stood motionless as the Keepers began firing arrows in their direction. The enemy soldiers standing guard in the room -- perhaps two dozen or so -- quickly snapped out of their own confusion at the surprise attack and rushed toward the Keepers with a roar. Drawing her bow, Merai expanded it with a quiet _snap_ and nocked an arrow. She aimed at the nearest enemy soldier, fired-- And in that instant the Moranasi raised their hands in unison and disappeared within an orb of black. The arrow hit the soldier in the gut, and he staggered backward under the impact. Astonished, Merai peered more closely at the dark mass that filled the center of the room -- and suddenly realized that it wasn't a _mass_ at all. It was just a volume of space that was completely and utterly black. It flickered and swirled around the edges, like a mass of inky fog somehow being contained within a roughly spherical area, but no light whatsoever passed through its surface. Not even Merai's aura-sight could penetrate it, though it was clear that daedric power was woven through it. A fireball came screaming out of the black space, striking down one of the Keeper soldiers, and with a grimace Merai realized that the darkness was apparently not hindering the Moranasi in the least. As she fired another arrow, she noticed David's aura reaching out again, trying to absorb the spell. Something was different this time, though, and the expression of worry that Merai could sense in David's thoughts clearly showed it. She knew that daedric magic, like the divine magic used by the Lothanasi, was based not on mana but on the inherent energies of the god or daedra who provided the spell. If David was trying to absorb those energies... "David, let go!" Merai shouted, taking another shot at an approaching soldier as she did so. The ant's mandibles twitched. "... can't ..." he gasped, his voice sounding heavily strained. With a heroic effort, David tugged harder at the darkness spell, forcing the strange magical energies to unravel as he absorbed as much as he could bear. The black cloud dissipated in response, spreading throughout the room but also thinning into a shadowed gloom that her catlike eyes could easily see through. Then, with a sound like a choked whimper, David collapsed to the floor, his body twitching with daedric energy. The entire process had taken no more than twenty seconds. Clenching her teeth, Merai turned her attention back to the battle at hand. There was nothing she could do for him now, and there was still a more immediate threat to deal with. Seeing that the enemy foot soldiers were tangled up in hand-to-hand combat with the Keeper troops, she decided that she was relatively safe for the moment. Raising her bow, she aimed for one of the Moranasi, who still stood silently in the middle of the room. She let the arrow go, readied another one, fired, readied another one, no longer analyzing, hardly even thinking, just shooting at those dark _things_ that weren't Keepers... She continued until she finally reached back to her quiver and could find no more arrows to shoot. Collapsing her bow again, she returned it to her belt and took her little sword out of its scabbard... A tingle of danger behind her, and she leaped forward, spinning around just in time to see the enemy soldier's sword cut through empty air. She hadn't seen him coming -- seemed like there were more soldiers now, they must have heard all of the shouting and screaming going on -- swinging her sword, blocking the soldier's blow, spinning, moving very fast, Dokorath's blessing, slash, slash, block, slash, thrust -- oh, gods, that was blood, real blood, running down the soldier's chest -- and then the training took over, and she pulled her sword out, grimly realizing that there was no time to think about such things. She went looking for another target, rushing back into the battle... Chaos. Utter chaos, all of it. Looking back on it afterwards, she could remember only flashes: Rickkter, sword in hand, dueling with a woman who must have been one of the Moranasi masters. Raven, howling as she threw streams of fire against the enemy mages, the roar of the flames mixing with the shouts and screams of battle. Bradfox, cursing as he fired arrows into the battle -- then screaming as his arms and legs suddenly withered before his eyes, and he collapsed in a heap against the far wall of the room. Starling, blocking arrows and spells with her eldritch shield, protecting Daria and herself even as she breathed out fire against their enemies. One moment in particular stood out in Merai's mind, as she found herself face to face with one of the enemy mages. He stretched out a hand against her, launching some kind of spell; she instantly blocked it, then manipulated the energy of her shield to "shove" him backwards, turning the defensive spell into an offensive one. He stretched out his hand again, an expression of seething hatred on his face- Then screamed, as a steely gray blur rushed at him from Merai's right, striking him squarely in the chest. The man toppled backwards, and then Merai saw that it was Madog, the fox-shaped automaton, who stood over him with teeth bared. "NA TO SHO TALA! YOU HURT FRIEND!" he shouted, the metallic voice rising above the roar of combat. "You hurt Kyia!" An ominous red glare lit the automaton's eyes. "You no hurt her again. " Then Madog seized the mage's arm and bit down hard, tearing the limb off in a spray of blood. The Shadow Bringer screamed, lashing out with his remaining hand, but the spells glanced off of the metal fox's enchanted body like rain off a slate roof. If the magic affected Madog he didn't show it. Quickly the automaton shifted his focus, and the other arm was gone as well. Merai stood there, dumbstruck, watching as the peaceful creature who would never hurt a fly systematically dismembered the helpless, shrieking Moranasi, throwing the bloody pieces away like so much trash. At last, Madog seized the man's head, snapping it off and finally silencing his screams. Moments later the man's entire body was scattered, leaving only tattered shreds of fabric and flesh and a pool of blood behind. Then the automaton disappeared into the battle again. Merai shook herself out of her daze and did likewise. Some time later -- minutes or hours, Merai wasn't sure -- she found herself standing in a sea of bodies, watching as two of the dark-robed figures seemed to disappear into the walls. The other four lay dead, along with dozens of warriors -- enemy and Keeper alike. Rickkter swore vehemently as he watched his opponent make her escape. "I almost had her," he muttered. "They won't get far," Raven assured him. "Kyia will make certain of that." Merai blinked in surprise. *Kyia?* she thought. *But...* And then she realized: four of the Moranasi circle had been killed. The harmonics of the spell had been broken. Kyia was free. Somehow, they had won. "We won," she said, half in disbelief. Looking down at the floor, she saw the bodies of Keepers lying crumpled and bleeding on the floor. Patildor and Lothanasi alike -- together in death. "... we won," she whispered. ~0~ A low, muffled groan on the other side of the room shook Merai out of her reverie. "Oh, gods," she gasped. "David!" Running over to where the ant-man lay crumpled on the ground, she knelt beside him and placed a hand on his armored chest. Black, malevolent energy pulsated through his body, gnawing away at his insides like a living thing. "David, can you hear me?" she asked. The warrior moaned in response. Merai grimaced, placing her other hand on his forehead. "Just hold on, David. I shall try to ... do something," she muttered under her breath. Merai examined him with her aura-sight, projecting her consciousness down and to the left for a closer look. Tentatively, she reached out for one of the strands of darkness that had wrapped itself around David's aura. It drew back from her as her mind touched it, but at the same time she felt a strange tugging within herself. The light that had saturated her when she became a priestess -- a swirling body of energy, like a little star knitted into her very soul -- flared up vibrantly as she made contact with the daedric power that filled David's body. What was more, that light seemed to be pushing and pulling at the energy of Dokorath's blessing that rested on her own body ... almost as if it was trying to create some sort of channel... *That's it,* she thought. Almost instinctively, without even really understanding how, she began shaping the divine energies around herself into a funnel, of sorts, with that brilliant soul-star at the bottom. Immediately the strands of daedric energy began drifting toward the metaphysical funnel she had constructed, drawn to the star inside her like iron filings to a lodestone. As that energy drew near her its blackness began to fade -- and by the time it disappeared inside her there was nothing left of it but pure, untainted power. When all of Ba'al's energy had been drawn off of David's body, Merai allowed the funnel to relax into its normal state. As the blessing of Dokorath fell once more into place around her aura, Merai drew her consciousness out and to the right, returning fully to her own body. A few seconds later, David's antennae twitched. "Are you all right?" she asked him. "Ugh.  I ... I think so," he groaned, wearily pushing himself up into a seated posture. "Thank you. How did you do that?" Merai thought back on what she'd done: taking the energy of a daedra lord and somehow converting it into something neutral, then binding it into her own soul. She had never heard of anything like it before -- and yet it had come so naturally, so easily, as if it was as normal a thing as breathing. She looked at his large, black eyes, seeing her own awed expression reflected in their glossy surface. "I don't know," she said. ~0~ Daria once again found herself sitting on the Temple floor, watching as the Lightbringers and healers tried to put her fellow warriors back together again. At the moment, Brad was screaming under Raven's tender ministrations as she worked to restore life to his withered limbs. Wincing, the redhead averted her eyes. Praise the gods that such a horrible thing could be undone, but the cure was as painful as the original spell! Elsewhere, Garulf was being treated for a few broken bones he had suffered when one of the Moranasi threw him against a stone wall. Daria had no idea how the scrawny mage had accomplished that, but she decided that she probably didn't want to know. As for herself, the young warrior had gotten away with only a few minor slashes to her arms and legs. After her shattered ribs in the previous battle, she considered herself exceedingly lucky. Most of the rest of their group hadn't been so fortunate. Daria's strike team would be in no position to fight again as a unit any time soon: Weyden was seriously wounded, and Brad would be in recovery from his ordeal for days. All told, twenty Keepers had been killed in the assault, and a good number of the survivors were severely injured. Daria didn't know most of the victims -- although one had been a member of the royal guard like her father -- but that didn't make the loss any less real. Her father. Out there on the battlements when Nasoj's army struck. Gods, she hoped he was all right. She wasn't sure how long she sat there before a rustle of clothing at her side stirred her to awareness again. Merai sat down beside her, her long feline tail looking agitated. Neither of them spoke for a while. "How do you do it?" the cat-girl asked, her voice hoarse and barely more than a whisper. Daria frowned. "What?" "You know." Merai gestured vaguely. "Fight. Kill." The warrior woman shook her head, making a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sigh. "We don't exactly have much of a choice, do we?" "I don't mean that. Of course we have to fight Nasoj. But how do _you_ do it? How can you handle all of the pain, all of the death? How do you look at yourself in the mirror, knowing that you've killed people?" Daria thought about it a moment, then shrugged. "I don't know. You can't really stop to think about it. They're trying to kill us. We have to kill them first. Maybe someday it will come back to haunt me, but not now. Not with my home and my liege counting on me to protect them." Slowly, Merai nodded. "And how do you deal watching your friends die?" The redhead clenched her jaw, as painful memories of Private Morel's death came rushing back. " 'Tis hard," she admitted softly. "But I have to remember my duty. I can do nothing to help the dead, but I may yet be able to help save the living." She looked up at the window at the front of the temple. The snow had stopped some time ago, and the patch of sky she could see from where she was sitting looked clear and blue. "There will be time to grieve later," she said. Daria felt soft leathery pads against her skin. Looking down, she saw Merai's tawny-furred hand clasping her own. The young priestess squeezed her hand once, smiling sadly. The gesture said more than words ever could. Sitting together in silence, they watched the healers continue their work. **** End part 67</HTML>