<HTML>    It was a dark night, one of the darkest Misha had ever seen. There was no moon up and there were no stars in the sky. The only illumination seemed to come from the snow itself. It's whiteness adding a faint white glow to the night sky. He knew that was simply because the clouds were overcast but he couldn't help but remember an old childhood fairytale about a demon who ate the stars. He shook his head slowly to try and rid himself of that thought. There was far too much to do.    Slipping past the outer line of pickets had been easy even if they had to crawl through waist deep snow to do it. A line of sentries standing outside of a shallow ditch surrounded the camp. Behind that was a barrier made of vines and branches woven into a wall some two feet high. Behind that was a second line of sentries. A seemingly formidable set of barriers that should have made things very difficult for the Longs to penetrate.    The sound of snow crunching underneath him as he moved seemed to boom out into the night. In reality the sound was a faint squeak as the snow was compressed under his weight. Still even a soft noise like that could betray their presence to any guard who was doing his task and quietly listening and watching. Their big worry was the tracks they left in their wake. With the snow so deep and wide any fool could follow it. But there was no helping that, the Longs had no other recourse. Moving in single file would at least disguise who had made the tracks making look like a deer trail. The rest of the remaining Long Scouts trailed closed behind him. Each spaced some ten feet apart, close enough to protect the others but far enough apart so that a spell would not catch all of them. The white cloth that covered them from nose to tail made them invisible even at this close range but still Misha worried.    Lucky for Misha there seemed to be no one listening or watching. The outer picket line had consisted solely of Lutins, most of whom cared little about guarding. Some had been drinking, others eating or gambling many had been sleeping. The fox had even stepped over the sleeping forms of two Lutins without waking them. Being dead drunk Misha had little worry the two sleeping sentries would wake up. He doubted they'd wake up if the entire Metamor army marched past.    The deep ditch had been filled in by thick, heavy snowdrifts and was really nothing more then a shallow depression. The two foot high fence behind that was covered in many spots by more of the same snowdrifts that filled the ditch. It was just as easy to cross.    Once past the picket line they had skirted the edge of the camp looking for some unprotected entrance. The camp itself was eerily quiet, nothing moved among the tents, hovels and lean-tos that composed it. Only the sentries surrounding it and the occasional lutin sentry wandering about were to be seen. All as bored and tired as the outer picket line had been. And just as easy to get past. The difference was this time they wouldn't do it without shedding blood.    They found a spot where three Lutins were drinking and playing dermok, a gambling game of sticks, rocks and coins. The three were huddled around a small fire in front of a lean to made of wood and hides. There was no one else around them for quite some distance.    The Longs grouped together a mere twenty feet away flat on their stomachs in the biting cold snow. The white cloth that covered them from nose to tail made them invisible even at this close range.    "It's a pitifully small group," Misha thought to himself. "Barely a month the Longs had fourteen members and now we have half that number and one; Padraic wasn't really a Long scout but merely a candidate. No," the fox corrected himself, "the rabbit IS a Long scout. He'd passed the harshest test if all - combat and not been found wanting. When this was all over they would have to give him a proper initiation." Misha gave a silent chuckle to himself as he imagined what Padraic would look like dyed a nice shade of pink with a huge pink bow tied to each ear. Putting that last pleasant thought aside he returned to the business at hand.    "The camp looks empty," he signed. "Except for some guards it seems empty."    "It is empty," Rickkter replied using the same hand signs. "I can sense no one in the camp besides the sentries around the tent."    Misha nodded. He was glad to have the warrior/mage along. His magic was already coming in handy.    "No one?" Caroline asked. "That doesn't seem right. There should be at least a few people."    "That has me worried, too," Rick added. "Just the guards on the perimeter and walking patrols. The tents and everything else are empty."    "They can't have cleared the whole camp," Finbar argued.    "They would if they were expecting an attack," Rickkter explained. "Put every soldier on the line to fight." He made a gesture with his paws to indicate a shrug. "I can't tell you for sure. It's certainly possible. It could also be a trap, or simply that they're trying to bluff their numbers for any force considering attacking them. All I can tell for sure is that those tents are empty."    "Agreed," Misha added. "But the only way to find out is to go in. And there must be something inside or they would not have guarded the camp."    "Padraic, Caroline and me will kill the three sentries with arrows," the fox ordered using hand signals. "Rickkter will cast a silence spell to make sure no one hears anything."    The raccoon nodded in response for once not arguing with Misha. No matter how obstinate he could be Rickkter was always dependable when things got nasty.    Finbar held up a small, hand sized crossbow.    Misha understood the ferrets question and answered him with a shake of the head. The Hushpuppies poisoned bolts would make short work of any one guard but it was slow to reload. When the first guard was killed the other two would run screaming, alerting the whole camp. All three had to be killed at the same time.    More orders ideas passed back and forth silently between the Longs and their commander. Then just as silently they moved into their proper places, each moving especially slowly making sure of the placement of each hand and paw. Each long moved with slow practiced skill of experts with no doubts or hesitations. Finally no more orders were needed and everyone was where they needed to be. Now it would all come down speed and skill.    Misha, Caroline, Padraic and Rickkter lay flat side-by-side in the snow. The Long scouts each held a bow in one hand. One either side of them were the other scouts. To the left was Finbar, to the right was Georgette. Danielle and Jotham crouched low behind watching and waiting.    The fox looked towards Caroline and stroked her muzzle with his hand for a moment. She tenderly kissed that hand and smiled at him. It was a long moment before she reluctantly let go.    Looking away from her Misha focused on Padraic. The eyes that looked back at him were full of doubt. The fox grasped the rabbit on the shoulder trying to get him to relax.    "Ready?" the fox asked with his hands. Both the rabbit and the otter nodded in answer.    Misha grasped his bow tighter and shifted until he was standing on his hands and knees. His bow was in one hand and two arrows in the other. He looked at his companions and saw that they had followed his motions.    He gave a short nod of his head towards Rickkter. He watched as the raccoon's hands and lips moved in silence as he cast a spell.    Misha took two deep breaths and then pushed off the ground and into a kneeling position. He caught sight of his target; a small lutin who was in the center of the trio. The creature was taking a drink from a bottle. In one swift motion the fox knocked an arrow onto his bow, bent it and released it. Seconds later another arrow followed the first.    The lutin put down the bottle and spotted Misha. In that spilt second before the first arrow hit their eyes locked. Keeper and lutin stared at each other in surprise. Then the arrows struck destroying that surprised face and the brain behind it.    In an instant Finbar and Georgette crossed the open space between them and the three dead Lutins in moments. They grabbed the still warm corpses and propped them back into a sitting position as they themselves crouched down low. Misha, Caroline and Padraic all dropped back down into the snow.    Anyone looking at the scene would be hard pressed to see anything out of place. The fire still burned and the three figures sat around it. Seemingly asleep or just quiet. One would have to get close to see that all three were dead.    For five long minutes no one moved. They lay still and quiet, listening for any sign that their attack had been spotted. There were no shouts of alarm or surprise. No one came running and no alarm horns or bells split the night. It remained calm and quiet.    Finally Misha gave the signal and Caroline, Padraic, Rickkter, Danielle and Jotham moved swiftly across the open ground and into the camp. Misha came last kneeling down next to the lean to, using it's shadow to disguise his outline. Again the eight keepers watched, listened and waited for any sign of alarm. Silence was all that greeted them.    The easy part was over. ***    Along the river a quiet battle raged. Darkness had settled in and it was long past midnight. At midnight two hundred and seven of Metamor Keeps scouts had crossed the river and fallen upon the pickets who stood guard on the opposite bank. Short, desperate fights raged the length of the river as Keepers and Lutins each tried there best to kill each other.    It was an uneven fight. The keepers had all lost so much. Homes destroyed. Friends and family dead or maimed during the hideous attack during the Yule season. They had no reason to run away, hesitate or to show mercy. All they wanted was blood. They wanted revenge. The Lutins simply wanted to escape. Most had no stomach for a hopeless fight for an overlord all hated. The picket line was overwhelmed in minutes and the combined army charged towards the river sweeping all before it. ***    The fox stepped slowly past the collection of canvas, hide, bones, sticks and scraps of cloth that were loosely tied together into the vague shape of a tent. A careful glance inside showed that all the rest he had passed, was empty. Inside were a few burnt embers on a floor of dried mud. Empty. Misha crouched by the tent for a moment then rushed forward to the next one. Behind him Caroline rushed up to take the place he had just left. Behind her was stretched Rickkter and the rest of the Longs.    "This is getting very, very bad," Rick quickly signed.    "But there's no one here," replied Carol.    "Exactly."   "Enough arguing," Misha commented. "Keep a close watch but we need to keep moving." ***    It was only at the ford that there was a fight. Here a hard knot of humans and Lutins stood their ground supported by a dozen ogres and four tall giants. Three times the cavalry and infantry charged across the icy water and three times they were thrown back after bitter fighting.    Lord Bidwell ordered the five hundred archers forward and showered the ford and it's defenders with arrows. Then four hundred of his finest knights charged across. This time on foot. It was five long minutes before the attackers withdrew to their side of the river. Behind them the bodies of humans, Lutins and keepers floated on the water turning it deep red with their blood.    Again the archers rained arrows down on the ford and more Lutins and men fell into the water. With a shout Ellingwood led the charge across the river with the knights at his back. Again the fighting raged as savagely as ever but the defenders didn't budge.    The humans and keepers withdrew back across the river for the fifth time. Even as they fell back arrows hissed overhead taking a terrible toll of the tight formation.    Nearby stood Lord Bidwell watching and listening to all that went on. He would have preferred to be in the fighting, leading the troops himself but he was in command. So he stood back, giving orders through messengers, blaring trumpets and thumping drums.    George materialized out of the darkness trudging through the mud and snow to where Lord Bidwell was standing pondering what to do. The jackal was dripping wet below the waist. The ice on his fur crackling as he walked.    "They're not budging," the canine commented. "We need to get rid of those giants and ogres. With those gone we can smash the rest."    "We could send a group to Denders crossing and come up behind them."    George shook his head. "It will take hours to get a decent sized group across."    Lord Bidwell turned to three figures that stood near him. In the darkness and confusion the boy, the girl and the young dragon had seemed so insignificant.    "Aisha, Colin, Drake, we need your assistance now.  I was told you could summon an elemental to aid us." He point towards the river and the ford. "At the ford are a group of humans and Lutins backed by giants and ogres. We need the giants and ogres killed or driven off. Can you do that?"    All three blinked at that, and Colin said, "We'll do our best to summon one for you, sir."    Colin and Aisha dismounted and joined Drake laying in a circle on the ground, feet facing outward, hands joined.  They stare up at the sky, at something only they can see.  Soon, however, there is a faint glowing high in the air above their heads, as a giant ice crystal starts to form.  It grew in size, until the three, as one, called out, "Come forth, Shiva!"  The crystal shattered and a woman floated down, landing next to the three who summoner her, who were on their feet by then.  The woman had blue skin and hair, long hair, which was in a tight braid down her back.  She wore almost no clothing, and her voice was as a winter wind when she asked, "How may I be of service?"    Colin pointed to the army defending the ford, "They are blocking our way, please try to take out at least the giants, more if you can."    Shiva bowed, "It will be done." and flew toward the ford, and hovered in the air.  Targeting the Giants, she raised her arms and showers of giant icicles propelled by arctic winds raced from her hands.  The giants were able to knock a couple away, but the arctic air made them stiff and sluggish, slowing their reactions.   Tough skin that had easily brushed off arrows, spears and javelins were punctured in hundreds of places by ice harder then any steel. One giant caught an icicle as big as a mans body in his eye. Bellowing in a voice that could be heard miles away the monster staggered off into the night clutching the bloody, icy mess that had been its right eye.    Another giant caught an icicle just as big in his mouth, into the back of his throat while he was yelling about the pain from the other icicles. The shaft of frozen water plowed through the roof of his mouth and into the brain beyond it. Without a word the creature staggered backward, killed so fast that his body didn't know it was dead yet. He collapsed on the far shore sending up clouds of snow and mud when he struck the ground.    "Can't hold the weave for much longer," Colin thought to his two siblings, and shouted out to Shiva, "Thank you for your assistance, Shiva.  You are dismissed."  Shiva nodded, bowed, then dissipated.  As soon as she was gone, all three collapsed to the ground, drained.    Lord Bidwell ordered another attack and the knights charged again into the ice cold water. This time Bidwell led them. Gone was the time for command. This was the hour of decision.    The fighting raged for five long minutes in a bloody and savage melee at the waters edge. But despite their fearful losses neither side was willing to give ground.    Finally Bidwell himself managed to duck under the broad sweeps of a giants club. In his hands was a claymore. The two handed weapon had a blade as long as his arm. With one powerful swing he chopped deep into the monster's right knee. The creature toppled over to one side sending waves of water splashing over everyone. Without a word the remaining giant turned and vanished into the night, with a speed that was surprising for something that big. With him went all of the remaining ogres.    That made the opening they were looking for. They fighting had been as costly for the defenders as it had for the attackers. With the giants and ogres gone they simply didn't have the strength and numbers to block the whole ford. Instead they bunched together in the center fighting as fanatically as ever. Two hundred infantry both keeper and humans skirted around the edge of the fighting. Wading through water so deep that the shorter ones had to be carried to keep from being swept away by the current. They swarmed around and fell upon the defenders from behind.    Cutoff, surrounded, attacked from all sides and hopelessly outnumbered they could have, they should have surrendered but they didn't. Instead they kept fighting. It was only when the last of them was dead did the fighting end.    With the ford now clear the main army crossed the river in force. All attempts at organized resistance had disappeared like a forgotten dream. Then the true slaughter began. **** </HTML>