<HTML> The walls and floor were just a blur as Misha raced down the corridor at full speed. Cutter could feel the powerful muscles ripple beneath the fur of his friend as he clung to the foxtaur's body to keep from falling off. The whole taur body seemed to just exude raw power. It reminded him of riding bareback on some magnificent stallion. He couldn't but enjoy the exhilaration of it all. The foxtaur raced down a corridor as people scattered out of the way. Misha swerved around a group that didn't move fast enough. He easily leapt over a pile of broken timbers and rubble. For a long moment they were airborne. All four of his paws off the ground, flying like some sort of oddly shaped bird. In spite of his weight he touched down softly and without breaking stride. The powerful taur raced along. Suddenly they broke out of the hallway and into the open air. Misha slowed to walk as the snow and ice crunched under his paws. They were in a small, circular courtyard, barely a dozen yards across. They were so deep in the Keep that the snow could barely find a way in. So only a light dusting of snow on the ground in spite of being open to the sky. Under paw a pathway of blue marble poked through the snow in various places. Benches of the same marble were spaced out around the courtyard. In summer they would have been shaded by white birch trees whose branches were now bare off all leaves. In the center of the courtyard was a bronze statue set upon a five foot high pedestal of granite. The figure was a man dressed in archaic looking armor that was now only found on old and weathering statues. In one hand he held a sword and in the other a hammer which he was proudly waving over his head. This hammer wasn't the powerful war weapon used to crack open armor, instead it was the simple tool used by builders. "Lord Cowell the First, warrior, leader, conqueror and builder," was chiseled into the granite at statues feet. There was a quiet solitude about the place that made Cutter believe there were the first people to see this place in years. "Beautiful." "It is," Misha agreed. "I've never seen this place before. Kyia never fails to amaze me." "I wonder what other secret places she has hidden?" The foxtaur shrugged. "After she gave us Long House I gave up wonder about such things and just enjoy these gifts." "She gave you Long House?" "Matt and I just found it one day, full, intact and ready to use. Even the larders were fully stocked." * * * Misha slowed to a trot then a fast walk and then to a slow walk. As the corridor opened up into a large hall Misha came to a halt. It was a small hall, about fifty feet long, and wide. Forty feet above was a domed ceiling with small, glass windows interspersed along it's length. Set in the wall was a small wooden door, in front of which stood four guards. Over the door was a balcony, that was about twenty feet from side to side. He noticed that the entire length of the balcony was lined with battlements. "Is this Long House?" Cutter asked. "It wasn't but it is now," the scout answered enigmatically. Cutter, gave his friend a confused look. "We call it Battle Hall," Misha explained. "This is where the worst fighting took place when the Lutins attacked Long House." The foxtaur was silent for a moment. "We lost a lot of good people here." Cutter didn't say anything. Just nodded. Misha's usually quiet footfalls sounded loudly through the hall as he walked across the gray flagstones to the door on the far wall. Each step sounding like a hammer blow as the paw hit the ground. Looking up Cutter could see motes of dust slowly floating around in a ray of light streaming through a window. Elsewhere in their trip there had been sounds; people walking, doors opening and closing, even the soft rustling of the wind as it danced through the ancient structure. Always there had been sound around him, even in the quiet library, but not here. In this hall the silence was deathly. Nothing intruded upon the silence here, it was a quiet as a tomb. The taur did a sudden dance, side stepping to the right before continuing his walk. Looking down the librarian could see the reason for his friends sudden maneuver. There on the floor was a dark red stain in the stone floor about the size of a mans head. We can't get that one out," Misha said in a distracted tone looking at the spot. "All the other blood stains came out but not that one. It will never come out." Without another word he picked up his gait and left the stain behind as quickly as possible. In a moment they arrived at the door and the four soldiers standing guard. The foxtaur stopped and turned head and shoulders around to the his rider. "I'm afraid from here you need to walk." Cutter struggled to get off of the taur's broad back and finally managed to stand upright with the help of Misha. The foxtaur handed Cutter his cane and the Librarian used it to steady himself. Misha walked past the guards and opened the door. With a wave of the hand he ushered Fox into the small room that lay beyond. The librarian regarded the door for a moment before stepping in with Misha following close behind. The room was crowded with the taur taking up most of space. The room was devoid of all content save a second door that was in the wall opposite the one they entered through. "We call this little place the Welcoming Room," Misha said. Anyone in here we don't want can be covered with boiling oil or skewered with a dozen spears." Cutter nodded but didn't comment. The foxtaur opened the other door and sunlight streamed in as he spoke, "We call this next room Long Hall." Fox stepped into the large open space the tap of his cane echoing over and over again in the vastness of the room. Shafts of multicolored light played across fine decorated carpets that covered the gray stones that made up the floor. He looked up at the large tapestries that seemed to cover every vertical surface. "Lovely," the librarian said in a tone slightly more raised then his normal dreary tone. "I still get a thrill out of seeing it. This was the first sight I had when Charles and I first found Long House. It's not the only hall in Long house but it's certainly the most impressive," Misha commented. Misha walked alongside his friend as the two moved slowly out into the middle of the hall. "You say she gave it to you?" Fox asked. "I think Kyia gave it the Long Scouts to use and to guard," the fox tried to explain. "To guard what?" Cutter asked. Misha shrugged. "I'm not sure but you must have heard the tale about the Keep being created to protect some great treasure." The fox morph nodded. "Every keeper has. It's a bedtime story that you tell to your children." "It's not just a tale," the foxtaur replied. "This place is completely self-contained. Close that door," he said point back to the way they had entered. "And this place is completely shut off from the rest of the keep." "Meaning?" Cutter asked. "It's like this is a treasure vault of sorts meant to protect something of great value." "I wouldn't place much merit in the idea. I doubt that Kyia would be so obvious." "Nasoj thought enough of the tale to send some five hundred Lutins after this place," Misha explained as they continued to walk. Cutter started to reply but he was interrupted by their arrival. Having crossed the hall they now stood in front of a small door made up of a dark wood banded with steel. In front of which stood a guard, sword and shield at the ready. "Misha Brightleaf and Cutter the librarian," the taur said to the woman. "Recognized," she answered and stepped aside. "This is the armory," Misha said and opened the door. The librarian looked in through the open door. Inside he could see row upon row of shelves and racks stretching the length and breadth of the large room. "Hmmm. Enough to start your own war." Misha didn't answer but simply closed the door. "Lets head off this way," he said and pointed to a doorway. The doorway opened into a short corridor that was lined with various doors and smaller hallways. Walking down the corridor they made a left turn and the close set walls opened up into a good sized room filled with a score of tables of various shapes and sizes. A handful of people sat at one corner table eating. "Our mess hall complete with a full kitchen and pantry," the taur explained. "How many people can you feed here at one time?" "During the attack we were feeding over five hundred people a day," Misha explained. "And the larder held enough food to feed all of them for over a year. Two if we had stretched it." "Five hundred?" Cutter asked. "How many people were here?" Misha shrugged, "not really certain but our best estimate was over five hundred of all species, sexes and ages." "Impressive," Cutter answered in a monotone and turned away from the doorway. The foxtaur turned and found the librarian looking at a door set in the opposite wall. One glance at told Misha what had drawn the fox's attention. There engraved into the wood and decorated with gold leaf was the word "LIBRARY". "I guess Kyia is eager to show you the library," Misha said as he walked up to the door. The taur opened grasped the handle of the door and gave it a twist. The door opened silently. "This is the library. When we found it there was only a collect of fairly common books in it." Cutter stepped into the room and found it filled with numerous bookshelves arraigned in neat rows that almost filled the room except in one corner. Mage lights danced in each of the four corners of the room, casting a bright but soft light over everything. In the corner closest to the door was a small fireplace with a fire burning in it and a screen of metal in front of it to keep sparks from flying out. In front of the fireplace was two large stuffed chairs. Nearby was a large table with several more thickly stuffed chairs surrounding it. Seated in one of the chairs by the fire was a female wolverine morph who was surrounded by dozen children. A book rested in her lap. "Misha," the wolverine said looking up from her book. "I'm glad you're here." Misha carefully stepped over and around the various children and hugged the female. "How are you doing today Jenn?" he asked. "Don't you mean; how is Andre doing?" "No I meant how are YOU doing?" "Doing good. Glad to be out of the apartment for a while and back to teaching," Jenn replied. "After living in your own house an apartment must be pretty cramped," Misha commented. She ruefully nodded. "It'll be spring before we even start to clear the debris and rebuild." "Spring?" Misha exclaimed. "Why that long?" "There just aren't the people to do the work till then," the wolverine explained. "With Andre still recovering we can't even do the work ourselves." "Don't worry Jenn. I'll have a crew out there within two days," the taur promised. She looked at him askance. "I'll ask one of the work crew captains, several of them owe me a favor. The Longs have saved their tails a few times over the years. They can spare a few workers for a couple of days. We can at least get the worst of the debris removed." "Thank you," she said gratefully. "No problem," Misha said and gave a her a light kiss on the muzzle. "Oh by the way, there's been an addition," Jenn said and pointed to the far wall. "That appeared about an hour ago." Set in a wall that until today that had only held books was an odd shaped door. The taur and the fox stepped up to the door and examined it closely. Unlike the other doors in Long House this was completely of wood without any iron hinges or handle. It seemed to be one, solid piece of blonde colored wood. Even the handle seemed to have grown from the door itself rather then been attached to it. On the wood in gold lettering was a message written in a loose flowing script that was unlike any language he had seen before. "What language is this?" Misha asked running his fingers over the odd lettering. "I believe it is Elvish," Fox answered. He reached into a pouch on his belt and produced a pair of glasses which he perched onto his muzzle just in front of his eyes. Misha peered at the librarians eyewear. It had a simple silver frame that fit so perfectly that they were obviously made to fit the fox's muzzle. The lenses were hexagon, but two parallel sides are longer then the others. Sort of like an oval with no curves. An odd shape for glasses. It was clear that the glasses had been specifically made for Cutters face. "Are those reading glasses?" Misha asked. "No," The librarian said and gave a very relaxed smile but no further explanation. "Lord Erleshi has bequeathed this place to preserve for all time the great knowledge of our people," he said reading the script. "Oh God," Misha said with awe. "A real Elvish library." The foxtaur extended his hand towards the wooded door knob but hesitated. "Why don't you do the honors," he said to the librarian. Cutter slowly reached for the knob but didn't touch it. Instead it hovered just short of it. "What could be inside?" he asked. "It could be empty." "It isn't," Misha answered flatly. "Kyia would never be that cruel." "True," Fox's eyes lit up with a bright look of hope. The first that had been there for a long time. The door opened with the merest touch of the librarians fingers. It swung inward with a smooth silent motion that belied its great age. A cool but bright light filled the space beyond the door illuminating a scene that most people thought only existed in stories. The room itself wasn't very large, being about the size of Misha's apartment. The walls looked and felt like the bark of a tree. The room was filled with a score of bookshelves none of which came higher then Cutters shoulder. What really startled the librarian was how different each individual bookshelf was. Each seemed to be a tree root or a branch that grew up out of earthen ground that lay under foot and had been shaped and sculpted into shelves. It felt more like they were standing inside a massive tree trunk instead of a massive stone fortress. "Are we still in the Keep?" Misha asked. "I'm not sure," Cutter answered honestly. "Then the stories about the elves once living Metamor are true," "Most legends about Metamor are true," the librarian said as he started to walk among the rows and stacks. Misha picked a row at random and started down it, being careful that his great bulk didn't cause any damage. What he found surprised him. Every one of the shelves was filled with scrolls each neatly held place by a loose ring of branches. He reached for one scroll and tenderly removed it from the rack. The moment his fingers touched the scroll the branches withdrew leaving the rolled text cleanly in his hand. The scroll in his hands was of papyrus tightly rolled onto a metal spindle made of bronze. Despite its great age the metal showed no sign of any decay or corrosion. It was as if some Elven hand had just placed it there. Unraveling the parchment Misha found the scroll was covered with what looked to be little arrows pointing in various directions. It took him a moment to realize that those arrows were laid out in patterns. It was a language he had never seen before. He rolled it back up and deposited back onto the branches which quickly reached out to support it. Moving along down the aisle he saw row upon row of scrolls each neatly held by the living branches. Suddenly a flash of blue caught his eye it brought him to a stop. There close to the floor was light blue tassel. Misha had to carefully lower his large bulk to the wooden floor to get within arms reach. With care he brought the scroll the tassel was attached to up to eye level. Hanging next to the tassel was a small oval shaped piece of stone. Neatly incised on the stone were the emblem of an owl, below that was the image of a woman headed bird with it's wings outspread. Below that was a dozen more symbols each different and each just as skillfully carved and the others. "Interesting," the foxtaur said. He unrolled the scroll reading as he did, "And the city of Ridu sent in tribute four thousand horses, three thousand cattle, fifteen thousand bushels of wheat." "You read hieroglyphics?" Cutter said, surprised. Misha looked up and gave small jump of surprise. The librarian that had been dozen feet away was now standing in front of him, leaning over his arm looking at the scroll the foxtaur had been reading. Those odd glasses were still perched on his muzzle. He had never heard Fox approach. "Yes," the taur said trying to cover his surprise. "How? That language has been dead for centuries," Fox asked. "She taught me," Misha responded as he looked over the scroll more. "Who? Aside from a few mages and scholars none now alive can read such writings," Fox said tapping lightly on the papyrus. "Whisper." "Your axe?" the vulpine asked, surprised. "Why not her?" Misha countered casually. "After all she was created by a Kkarrt mage." Cutter simply shook his head. "You surprise me Misha." The taur laughed. "I like surprising people. That got both of them laughing. "We're going to need a lot of expert help to classify everything here and I can't think of anyone more skilled then you to do it. There's no desk for you to sleep under but I'm sure we can find a nice room for you here." Cutter didn't answer for a moment. "With one addition. Teach me how to become that," he added and pointed to Misha's foxtaur body. "Fair enough!" *********** End part 2 </HTML>