The inside of the tower was surprisingly well lit. Misha had half expected it to be a some dark, dank prison like place with moss growing on the walls and filth on the floor. Instead the room was brightly lit showing off walls and floors of highly polished marble and granite. No furniture or decorations graced the area they were in. The only things breaking the emptiness was a flight of steps going up and another going down. No living beings were visible, not even guards or mages of any sort. But in spite of that Misha knew that they were not alone in the room and that they were being watched very closely.
Even though everything looked to be white they didn’t seem to be all white. Somehow the color they held didn’t feel white but instead looked dirty or corrupted somehow. Like a thin coat of whitewash over walls blackened by fire and destruction. Out of the corner of his eye Misha kept seeing things but when he looked straight at them he saw nothing. Worse still was his other senses. His nose could pick up no odor at first. The room seemed too clean and sterile to have even the faintest trace of a smell. Yet there was something in the air he couldn’t quite identify but it did remind him of a graveyard or some room long forgotten by people and passed over by time. He was reminded of how a dead body was scrubbed clean before burial. Could all that scrubbing truly remove all smell of death and decay from the corpse? He shook his head to clear away such foolish thoughts and went back to worrying about the room around him but the dark thoughts crept back into his mind like a thief in the night.
Faint whispering voices came to his ears speaking in a language he didn’t understand or even recognize. He could feel the hackles raise on the back of his neck and it took all his courage to not turn and bolt from this strange and eerie place.
Misha waited patiently for the rest of his team to enter the room. They were slow in coming. Each came into the room one at a time and even the illusionary magic around them couldn’t hide their discomfort. All had to fight their way past the doorway. It was a long time before the last one finally entered. He looked each one in the face making sure to get a reaction from each before moving onto the next one.
Misha turned and started across the hall. Once he started to move he didn’t hesitate, he couldn’t. Any sign of doubt or fear would be seen as weakness and give them away to the watchers around them. Moving with a boldness of action that he didn’t feel in his heart Misha walked across the bare chambers to the steps leading downward. As he moved the scout tried to act casual and still look all around trying to catch the slightest hint of the things now examining him.
The scout wondered just how long this illusion would hold up. It was made of Runic magic but even that old and powerful magic had its limits. He was surprised that it had held up for so long. He sent a silent prayer of thanks to the dagger and to the Heka Shuti who had crafted all five weapons.
He reached the stairs downward without trouble. The steps were crafted of the same white minerals as the rest of the room. A railing of bronze ran along one side and with the steps disappeared into the darkness below.
Misha put his left foot on the first step downward and instinctively reached for the railing with his right hand. A numbing cold shot through his hand as it touched the metal of the railing. Misha screamed in pain and stumbled backward as the cold jolted through his whole body.
There was shouting and screaming all around him but Misha didn’t heard any of it. The cold that was seeping through his body blotted everything else out of his mind. Shadows and wisps of clouds swirled about his body and filled the room making it as cold as a grave. He felt the life slowly being drained from him by the numbing cold.
“Pater noster, qui es in caelis, sanctificetur nomen tuum,” those words had been spoken softly but they boomed and echoed around the room like the crashes of a thunderstorm.
“Adveniat regnum tuum,” again the words boomed about and suddenly the cold loosened it’s grip on his body. Misha knew that voice but couldn’t quite place it.
“Adveniat regnum tuum. Fiat voluntas tua, sicut in caelo et in terra.”
Edmund. Suddenly Misha recognized the voice as Edmunds. There was no mistaking that faint unintentional hiss the cheetah morph always added onto the end of his sentences. He was still getting used to being a feline and the cats long, sharp teeth had changed his speech patterns slightly.
Caroline came over to Misha and helped him up from the floor. “Are you all right?” she asked.
The scout nodded. “I will be.” He looked at Caroline and realized that the illusion that had disguised them all was gone. His legs were a little wobbly at first but they quickly regained their strength.
“Panem nostrum quotidianum da nobis hodie, et dimitte nobis debita nostra sicut et nos dimittimus debitoribus nostris.”
Misha turned to the source of the sound and saw Edmund standing in the center of the room holding a cross in one hand over his head . In the other hand he had a small bottle that he was waving about sprinkling some liquid everywhere. He noted that where ever the liquid touched the floors or walls it hissed and bubbled and melted the stonework.
“Et ne nos inducas in tentationem, sed libera nos a malo.” Edmund intoned sternly and moved his armed in an even wider gesture for several moments before bringing both hands down to his side. “Amen,” Edmund said simply.
Misha was suddenly reminded that Edmund was a paladin, a warrior dedicated to God and to fighting evil. Until now that had meant little to the scout but it had probably just saved all their lives.
“What happened?” Misha asked and shook his body to drive away the last wisps of the deadly cold.
“I do not know what those things were but they could not withstand the truth of the Great Ones words,” Edmund answered.
“Undead most likely,” Rickkter commented. “Or some sort of demons.”
“They are gone now,” Edmund said.
“We hope,” Matthias added.
“I hope that no one follows us any time soon,” said Rickkter, “and sees the mess we’ve just made of the place.”
“And I thought that nothing could be worse then the magic back at the doorway,” Finbar said.
“This was all different when I went past here the last time,”
Eldrid commented. “There were four ogres standing guard along with this
strange statue of a minotaur. We all thought it was a golem of some sort. And
there was no undead.”
“Nasoj made some changes since you were here,” Finbar answered.
“Makes sense,” Rickkter added. “As his paranoia increases so does his need for protection. Ogres are living creatures and can be bribed like men and Lutins can.”
“Whatever those things were they weren’t enough to keep us from defeating them,” Ferwig commented.
“True but that attack must have warned someone that we are here,” Teria added. “We need to leave now before reinforcements arrive.”
“Where are all the guards?” Finbar asked as he nervously looked around. “There are sixty of them outside and not one of them has come inside. They must know something happened in here.”
“Would you willingly run into a building full of demons and undead?” Padraic asked, speaking for the first time.
Finbar nodded his head. “No one is THAT loyal.”
“Or stupid,” Rickkter added.
“They are probably not allowed in the tower,” Matthias commented.
Caroline nodded in agreement. “They’re only supposed to guard the OUTSIDE.”
“Agreed,” Misha commented. “But we need to push on and quickly get through the gate before they can react. Time is not on our side.”
The trip down the stairs itself took longer then Misha cared for but it couldn’t be helped. Teria and Rickkter led the way taking each step one at a time. There were forty steps and each one was warded with a different spell, all deadly.
The two would huddle together on the step above the trapped one and ponder and examine it for a long time. Misha’s sensitive ears could easily pick up their whispered words but he understood little of what they were saying. After much consultation one or both of them would cast a spell and there would be a brief flash or light, sometimes several in quick succession. Then they would boldly step onto the newly cleared step and begin the process all over again.
Misha’s knowledge of such magic was limited and all he could do was wait and watch which was frustrating. He knew that each moment spent clearing the steps was a moment that Nasoj had to ready himself against the Keepers arrival. He could imagine that the mage must be preparing all manner of deadly things to deal with these trespassers. But the fox knew that he couldn’t push the two mages any faster. Unraveling such magic was dangerous enough without Misha trying to have them rush and probably make a deadly mistake.
The bottom of the steps was something of an anticlimax for Misha. He had expected some fierce monster or brilliant display of magic but there wasn’t. Instead the steps simply ended in small room whose floor, walls and ceiling was lined with the same black stone that made up the exterior of the tower.
Rickkter and Teria halted on the last step at the same moment without a word passing between them.
“What do you see?” Misha asked.
“More wards and spells,” Teria answers. “All of them lethal.”
“Deadly, but not too imaginative,” Rickkter added.
“That describes Nasoj,” Caroline commented. “Lots of power but little imagination.”
“Even the power isn’t his,” Finbar said. “He made bargains with some powerful, evil spirits to gain that power.”
“True,” the fox added. “But he was a fairly powerful mage before that.”
“It takes power and skill to make such a bargain and not be destroyed,” the raccoon mage said in agreement.
“All such bargains end the same way,” Edmund intoned. “With the destruction of the one foolish enough to make it.”
“But how many innocent people die before then?” Matthias asked.
“Too many,” Was the cheetahs answer.
The portal in front of them was just as Eldrid had described it. It was a near perfect half circle about ten feet in diameter mounted on one wall. Unlike the black stones of the wall behind and around it the arch itself seemed to be made of something muddy brown in color. The center of the arch gave off a sickly green glow that spoke of powerful magic being used.
“How does it work?” Finbar asked. A profound silence followed that question.
“I never saw them operate the gate,” Eldrid said after a long moment of silence. “All we did was walk through it.”
“It looks to be already active,” Teria said as she examined the arch. “And I don’t see any wards or traps on it.” She added sounding very surprised.
“That doesn’t make any sense but I don’t see any either,” Rickkter added.
“That’s impossible,” Misha interjected. “Someone like Nasoj wouldn’t leave his front door wide open.”
“The arch itself could be the biggest trap of all,” Edmund said. “It could be one way. Once we get into the tower we could find that the ring on the other side IS locked and warded. Effectively trapping us in the tower.”
Misha laughed. “A very ingenious little trap. It would have worked if we didn’t have our own way out.”
“Good idea, but how do we prove it?” Teria asked.
“One way I know of,” the fox said and boldly walked up to the gate. Without hesitating he calmly thrust his hand into the glowing center of the portal.
Caroline let out a gasp but was relieved when her lover pulled his back out with no sign of harm.
The otter walked up to Misha and punched him straight in the face. “DON’T YOU EVER TAKE A CHANCE LIKE THAT AGAIN!” she screamed.
“I’m sorry,” he said sounding truly repentant. “I couldn’t think of any other way to test it and I won’t let anyone do something that I won’t do myself.”
Caroline seemed to calm down a bit. Finally she wrapped both arms around Misha and held him tightly. “I don’t want to loose you.”
Misha tenderly stroked her head. “I won’t ever leave you.” He sighed loudly. “My wild days are behind me my love. After this things will be calmer.”
“I’ll hold you to that promise,” Caroline said softly.
Misha laughs. “Ill hold myself to that promise.”
Caroline seemed to relax a little. “But first we have to survive the tower.”
The fox nodded his head. “This is where things get nasty.”
“There are bound to be guards on the other side waiting for us. Last time I was here it was a score of humans and a pair of ogres,” Eldrid commented.
“He seems to alternate humans and strange magic guarding his doors,” Rickkter noted. “We’ve had the magic so it’s probably time for the humans.”
“This is the only entrance to his tower,” Matthias countered. “He is going to have everything he can, humans, undead and summonings.”
“Sounds about right,” Finbar comments. “If he’s so paranoid he’ll have everything he can think of in there.”
Rickkter nodded in agreement.
“Whatever is in there we can overcome it,” Misha said firmly.
“You hope.” The raccoon mage countered.
“I believe that,” the scout leader answered firmly. “I wouldn’t had risked anyone else’s life if I thought this was hopeless.”
“But you would have come anyway,” Matthias said, speaking for the first time. The rat was standing quietly at the back of the group.
“Yes,” Misha answered simply. “Being the keeper of the axe comes with great responsibility.”
Caroline was visibly upset by this. Her ears drooped and she tucked her tail between her legs and the otter looked frightened.
Misha tenderly wrapped his arms around his love and nuzzled her softly. “Rest easy my love. That did not happen and it never will. I have to stop taking all these chances. This wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t raced ahead of the party. It was a stupid thing to do. But that is the past. My wild days really are behind me.” He held up her right hand and on it was the ring he had given her. “And this is my proof.”
After a long moment the two lovers released their embrace. He kissed her tenderly one last time on the muzzle. Then he pulled the black dagger from his pocket and held it up in front of his face.
“I need your help one last time,” he said speaking to the blade.” The fox morphs image shivered and suddenly it was again replaced by that of the long dead Druzhina.
“Why the illusion?” Edmund asked. “They know we are coming.”
“They know something is coming but not exactly what,” Rickkter explained. “It might give us an edge on whatever is waiting for us on the other side of that arch.”
Misha reached into a small pouch with his right hand. “But in case that doesn’t work I have something a lot better.” He held up his hand and in it was a small, gray, metal sphere about the size of an apple. The entire surface of the ball was covered with runes and magic symbols.
“The exploding sphere!” Finbar exclaimed. “I thought that was gone. Blown to pieces during the Yule attack.”
“It was,” Misha explained. “So David made me another one.”
“Great! Now we’ll have some real fun!” Finbar commented with obvious delight.
Misha stood close to the gate. The shimmered light of the magic itself mere inches from his body. He held up the explosive egg and examined it for a moment. The runes and glyphs that covered the egg shaped metal item meant nothing to Misha but he did recognize that they held great power. “Huyria Kormun,” he said and the orb started to glow bright red. He almost casually tossed the egg at the gate and it vanished into the magic light. The fox morph drew his two swords from their scabbards and then followed the egg through the gate.
Misha found himself standing in a cold, dark place that felt more like a tomb full of the undead then a place of the living. He had expected a fight or at least some resistance. Instead all he found was wreckage, flaming debris and corpses. Still he didn’t let down his guard but looked around incase something had survived the explosive magic of the orb.
The rest of the Keepers appeared silently behind. No one spoke but watched and waited. After a moment Misha gave a short nod of the head and the group spread out into the room. Misha noticed that the rooms one exit was a wooden door that now hung precariously from one hinge. Smoke curled up from the charred wood of the door adding to the acrid smells that filled the room.
“That little toy of yours did an effective job. There’s no one left alive in here,” Rickkter commented as he casually turned over a charred object that might once have been a living person. “I have to get one of those!”
“Effective,” Misha answered. “But the magic isn’t completely stable.”
“Powerful but unstable. Just like you are Rickkter,” Matthias said sarcastically.
“Anyone find the egg?” the fox asked interrupting Rickkter before he could reply to the rats comment.
“Right here,” Teria said and pointed to one corner of the room. The egg lay lodged in the crux of the two stone walls at least ten feet from the mage. She had more sense then to get any closer or to actually try and touch the orb. A smart mage treated all unknown magic with great care.
The fox scout retrieved the orb carefully, examining it closely before touching it. All magic could be dangerous, not just unknown magic. This powerful weapon seemed to be in good shape and bore no signs of cracking or burning. Both were a sign of the spheres magic starting to fail. This little weapon would be a great help till it’s magic finally failed. Till then Misha would see that it was put to good use.
“Is everyone ready?” Misha asked the group as he looked around. He took a careful check of everyone in the room. They had all come through the gate unharmed.
“We need to keep moving,” Rickkter said. “More guards are bound to be coming.”
“And here they are!” Misha shouted and rushed the doorway as a half dozen figures charged through it and into the room. With a long sword in each hand the fox charged straight at the soldiers who where entered the room. The sword in his left hand beheaded one as the other blade disemboweled a second. The remaining soldiers barely had time to realize they were in danger before the scouts swords slashed again and two more dead bodies joined the first two on the floor. The fox parried a slash from a sword with his own blades and dodged a second blow aimed at his stomach.
Misha kicked one of the guards in the groin and he doubled over in pain. The scout slashed down with both blades ending the mans pain and life at the same moment. Two more fast slashes and the last of the man dropped to the floor as his intestines spilled out.
Without even looking back or slowing down Misha stalked off through the door and down the corridor.
The door in front of Misha was locked. The wooden door was held closed by a lock of iron and brass. Unlike the two men who had been guarding it the door resisted Misha’s attacks. The fox morph stepped back from the door, almost tripping over the corpses of the guards in the process. He motioned to Teria and then pointed at the door.
The canine mage nodded and stepped forward. She examined the door for a moment then placed her hand in the center. There was a bright flash of light and Teria jerked her hand back. Muttering something under her breath the mage punched the door with both hands. The entire door lit up with a light that glowed brightly for a moment then faded away slowly. The door seemed unfazed by all the magic and looked as hard and unbreakable as before. Teria leaned forward and breathed onto the door softly and the entire things simply crumbled into dust.
Misha nodded his approval.
“Show off,” Rickkter muttered.
Looking through the doorway he saw a spiral staircase that led up and downward into darkness.
Finbar walked up to the fox and peered up and down. “Which way?” he asked Misha. “Up or down.”
The fox closed his eyes for a moment and simply opened his mind and thought of the axe. He remembered the feeling of power as he swung the blade. He felt a faint whisper of a voice in his mind and the image of a room above him came to his mind. The just as quickly as it had come the feeling passed.
“Up,” Misha answered. “She’s above us.”
Misha never saw it. One moment he was slowly walking up the steps and then he was enveloped in a darkness so total that he couldn’t see anything. It was like he had been locked in the darkest tomb under the earth.
Many people in his place would have panicked or been afraid but not Misha. He had come too far and Whisper was too close to stop now. In this darkness he could not see. A normal man would have been helpless but Misha wasn’t really a man. Nasoj’s curse had seen to that, making him into a mix of fox and human. Misha may have had human eyesight but he had a foxes sensitive hearing.
He heard the sounds of soft soled shoes scuffing against stone coming from in front of him. Without waiting or thinking he lashed out with his swords. The weapons cut deadly arcs through the air. Misha felt the lower blade meet resistance in it’s movement. He felt it slice through soft flesh before being stopped by hard bone. He pulled the blade back and struck again and again each time feeling the blade find it’s unknown target.
As suddenly as the darkness had appeared it disappeared leaving Misha standing on the stairs with blood dripping from his blades. At his feet lay the body of a woman dressed all in black. Large pools of her blood were spilling from her corpse and running down between Misha’s paws in a small river.
“Are you all right?” Matthias asked from behind him.
The fox morph nodded slowly. He gave the bloody corpse a cursory glance before stepping over it and continuing up the steps. “Watch the blood,” was his only comment.
The stairs stopped suddenly at a metal door with a large landing in front of it. Standing on the landing was a tall man dressed in long, flowing, brown robes. Standing next to the man was a creature that came up to his waist. At first Misha thought his tired eyes were playing tricks on him but the creature standing next to the guard was blurred. The animal was just not clearly visible, it was like he was seeing it through frosted glass. Only a vague swirl of colors and shapes were discernable to Misha.
“Stand and identify yourselves,” the man asked.
“I am Reynard of Marthwell,” Misha answered in tones more calm then he actually felt. He held up the forged card and handed it to the sentry. A low snarl emanated from the living blur and Misha flinched in spite of himself. The man petted the animal in the area where it’s head should be and the snarling subsided.
“My apologies, Sir. Emily is always on edge around strangers,” the guard explained cheerfully.
The man looked at the card for a moment then handed it back to Misha. The blur named Emily snarled again, this time louder and she shifted around.
“I’ve never seen a creature like Emily,” Misha said trying hard to hide his curiosity.
“Her kind are called displacer beasts.”
“Very rare,” Rickkter commented.
“Yes my lady,” the man answered cheerfully. “You can pass.” He stepped to the side but the creature didn’t move and remained blocking the door.
Misha realized that although the daggers illusions had tricked the man it had not fooled his odd pet. She knew these people were not supposed be here no matter what her handler thought.
“This will not end well,” the fox thought to himself and slowly reached for the hilts of his swords.
The mans expression suddenly hardened. “I don’t think you can go past,” he said coldly as he reached for his own sword.
Misha reacted suddenly. Without drawing his sword the scout lashed out with both fists. He caught the man under the chin and sent him flying into a wall.
There was a flash and a loud pop and a ball of red light slammed into the displacer beast lifting her off the ground and slamming Emily into the metal door.
The raccoon morph deftly danced past Misha and closed the distance between him and the creature.
“NO!” Misha shouted. “Don’t kill her.”
Rickkter halted in mid blow one of the razor sharp points poised over the blurred form. It seemed to shift and move around but he wasn’t sure it that due to her writhing in pain or the magic that made her very outline shift and move.
“Leave her be. Neither of them are our enemies. Nasoj is.”
Rickkter nodded and slowly backed away from the creature. “You’re too merciful Misha.”
“I’m getting tired of all the killing,” Misha answered suddenly feeling tired. “I must be getting old.”
“You’re getting wiser,” Edmund commented. “Not older.”
The first thing Rickkter saw upon entering the room was a dead body. One so horribly mutilated as to be almost unrecognizable. Only a foot still in a leather shoe identified it as human. It was lying in a pool of blood and a green liquid that he didn’t recognize. Looking around he saw at least a dozen other corpses scattered about the room. All were just as badly mutilated.
“Looks like someone started the party before we arrived,” the Raccoon mage commented sarcastically.
“Indeed,” Edmund commented as he examined one of the dead. “This one was killed by some foul summoning. There is still a stench of death and evil on the corpse.”
“Beware,” Misha warned. “Whatever did that might still be around.” He looked about the room for trouble but saw only the dead.
“If we didn’t kill these people then who did? Something is happening here and it doesn’t involve us.” Rickkter commented.
“A coup perhaps?” Teria said. “With all the defeats he’s had lately it’s the biggest thing he should worry about.”
“Agreed,” Matthias said and nodded his head.
“Could be a summoning gone wrong,” Danielle suggested. She was standing as far from the mess as possible but was looking all around.
“True,” Rickkter added. “More then one fool has ended up like this when they summoned something they couldn’t control.”
Misha nodded in agreement. “Anything of interest here?”
“Nothing here but the dead,” Teria answered. “Certainly no answers as to what really happened.”
“Let’s get moving,” Misha ordered and headed towards the door.
Misha heard the battle long before they were close to it. The ringing of steel on steel along with the grunts and groans of the dying and the sickening thunk of a blade sinking into flesh echoed down the corridor. With a silent wave of the hand he brought the group to a halt. The corridor they were in was curved and he couldn’t see where the sounds were coming from. After a moment he motioned to Rickkter and slowly moved down the corridor. The raccoon morph followed close behind while the others waited and watched.
The two took each step carefully being sure to place each paw silently after checking the floor for traps. With weapons in hand they crept closer and closer to the sounds of battle until they seemed to be within arms reach. The curve of the corridor blocked Misha’s vision ahead except for a small part of the far wall. Suddenly a spear flew into the far wall, hitting with a spray of sparks. The weapon then clattered to the floor and skidded several feet before coming to a rest.
The scout was startled by the weapons appearance and at first thought they were being attacked but then he realized the spear hadn’t been aimed at him. It was simply an errant projectile from someone else’s battle. That idea confused Misha. Who else would be fighting Nasoj in his own citadel? Moving carefully Misha peered around the curve in the corridor and towards the sound of combat.
In front of Misha was chaos. The room he was looking into was filled with a score of men and woman locked in savage combat. All were dressed in the same armor as the other guards Misha had fought earlier and he could not tell the two sides apart. Yet there were at least two opposing sides in this fight.
Misha slowly worked his way backwards till the fight was a good ways behind them. Then he and Rickkter quickly withdrew to where the other keepers waited.
“Could you tell who was fighting who?” Teria asked. After returning Misha had explained to them what they had seen.
Misha shook his head. “No but there were two sides in the fight and they weren’t training. People were dieing.”
“But who was fighting who?” Caroline asked.
“One side has to be Nasoj,” Matt suggested. “The others could be someone attempting a coup.”
“That makes sense,” Misha commented. “He’s never had full control of all of his lieutenants. All of them are a greedy and ruthless as he is. And with the failure of the Yule attack Nasoj’s shown that he’s failure.”
“I wonder whose attempting the coup?” Rickkter asked.
“Does it matter?” Edmund commented. “So long as they are too busy fighting each other to realize that we are even here.”
Misha waved his hand silencing any further discussion. “We don’t have the time for this talk now. We can’t wait for this fight to continue so we’ll have to go back to the last intersection and work our way around.”
The group slowly backed down the corridor and headed away from the sounds of the battle.
Misha came to a door at the end of a hallway that stood open, much to the fox morphs surprise. He halted and examined the half opened door for a long time. They were in the fortress of a megalomaniac, paranoid mage that was filled with men and women all trying to butcher each other. Not one door they had come across so far had been unlocked, never mind being open. And now he had come across a door that was half open as if someone had casually passed through and not bothered to close it behind them. In a place like this a simple thing like a half opened door would be looked on with fear and suspicion. It could make a very effective trigger for a trap.
He noted that the door was open just enough to show that there was a room beyond but not enough to reveal what was inside. He carefully examined every inch of the door, doorframe, walls and floor for any sign of a trap but found nothing.
Misha looked at Rickkter and pointed first to his left eye and then at the door and door frame. The raccoon mage nodded in understanding. Misha wanted him to check for any spells that might be set onto the door.
Rickkter stepped next to Misha and the fox waited patiently as the mage examined the door and it’s surroundings for any of magic whether it was an alarm or a trap. Finally after many long minutes he turned to Misha and shook his head. The raccoon morph had found no traps. It didn’t mean there weren’t any there, just that Rickkter hadn’t found any.
He would have preferred that Rickkter HAD found a spell or trap of some sort as those were things he could deal with. But finding nothing left Misha in a quandary. Was the door trapped and Rickkter had simply not found it? Or was the door really completely unprotected? Why leave a door unlocked and unguarded when all the others in this vile fortress WERE locked AND guarded. Then a thought suddenly occurred to him. What if the doorway was guarded but not on the outside. This entranceways true defense lay behind it and not in front.
Drawing his sword the fox scout slowly pushed the door all the way open using the tip of the blade. There were no explosions, fires or body shredding spells of power. Just the faint squeaking of un-oiled hinges. Misha waited for a long time before stepping up to the door and carefully peeking inside.
In front of him was a large hall whose gray, stone walls stretched some thirty feet overhead. The floors and walls were plain, devoid of any decorations or marking. About ten feet into the room the floor rose vertically ten feet up giving the hall the appearance of a theater with it’s raised stage. It also made for a formidable barrier blocking all movement across the room as it towered over things like the stone wall of a castle. This wall had only a single break where a flight of steps led upward.
A score of soldiers lined that wall spread out in an tight, even line. They were dressed in the finest plate mail armor and they bristled with swords and spears. All of them looked down at Misha with the cold gaze of veterans and the cruel, pitilessness of ruthless killers.
The fox scout picked out the leader instantly. It wasn’t very hard. Standing at the top of the stairs was one fighter who was wearing armor was covered in gold and chased in silver, mithril and purple. Every inch of the armor was covered with very elaborate designs. Not the tiniest part was left uncovered. His helmet was decorated the same as the armor and was topped with a beautiful mane of purple fur. This person was a leader, one of very high rank. Wearing all that purple was unusual. It was a supposed to be a royal color reserved only for kings and emperors. Visible to Misha was an engraving on that lieutenants chest of a red colored lion fighting a purple snake on a gold background. An unusual design.
The first thing George had ever taught him was to know your enemy. Misha and the Long Scout went to great lengths to know all they could about Nasoj’s and his lackeys and Andwyn had many records on them that were meticulously maintained with the most up to date information available.
Most of Nasoj’s minions had a long history of evil and violence and this one was no different. He recognized this man as Celerius Mandrinsen and he was probably as close to a trusted lieutenant as Nasoj’s paranoia ever allowed. He had been the fifth child of a powerful family in the Pyralian Kingdoms until his greed had gotten the better of him. He poisoned or stabbed seven siblings, strangled both parents and drowned three grandparents in a bid to become head of the family and control all the land and power that came with it. When that failed he had fled the Kingdoms with the remaining family members hunting him every step of the way. Misha tried to remember more details but he couldn’t except that Celerius believed he was a direct descendant of a Seuliman emperor. That explained all the purple and gold. Imperial colors. A story like that memorable even by the standards of Nasoj’s people.
Standing several steps behind Celerius was a tall woman with short, straight hair. She was dressed in an orange tunic and light blue pants. Rings of gold, silver and mithril crowded her fingers and a gold and jade necklace dangled from her neck. She wasn’t wearing any armor and her sole weapon was a silver and gold dagger that hung from the silver belt that girdled her waist. Misha didn’t recognize her but he marked her as a mage and as someone to pay extra attention to.
Misha pondered what to do for a moment, then he remembered the dagger and it’s illusions. Remarkably they had held up well through their travails. He took a deep breath and deliberately stepped out into the room, in plain sight of the soldiers. He heard the others of his party slowly follow suit. Without a word they spread out in a line one step behind and to either side of the fox.
“It seems we’re expected,” came the sarcastic comment from behind him. Misha recognized the voice as Rickkter’s.
“Did you have any trouble in the entry room?” Celerius asked in a condescending tone.
“No. No more then usual,” Misha answered acting casual. “Should I have run into trouble there?”
“Who are you?” the man asked coldly ignoring Misha’s question.
“Who do you think I am?” Misha asked as he slowly stepped toward the stairs. He could understand the mans confusion as the illusion from the dagger still portrayed the fox as a loyal minion of Nasoj.
“Who do you fight for?” he asked. Misha saw the woman next to Celerius moving her hands in the beginning of a spell.
“Isn’t that obvious?” Misha countered cryptically, taking a few more steps. “We’re all loyal to Nasoj.”
“Are we?” the man answered enigmatically as he slowly drew his sword from it’s scabbard.
Misha pondered that answer for a long moment.
“Interesting answer,” came the sound of Rickkter’s voice from behind him.
“Indeed,” Edmund added softly.
“Why are you here?” The vile knight snapped. His patience growing short.
Misha didn’t answer at first but just looked at the arrogant nobleman. He too was growing tired of the word games. “I’ve come for my axe,” the fox answered in a tone as cold and hard as stone and he willed the illusion away revealing his own and the whole party’s true forms.
The man smiled briefly. “It’s not here,” came the arrogant and angry answer.
“Shame. Then I’ll have to settle for killing you.” The fox exploded into action and covered the distance between him and Celerius in seconds. In each hand he held a sword and his eyes gleamed with a feral light. With surprising grace and speed he leapt high in the air cleared the steps easy. His swords whistled through the air as the fox descended on the ex-knight.
“FAEI DU SHALA NETUA!” Teria shouted and made a punching motion with her right hand. A section of the raised floor ten feet wide suddenly exploded as if punched by an invisible giants fist sending stone fragments and body parts flying in all directions. These deadly missiles ripped through even more soldiers adding to the mayhem and havoc.
Danielle made a quick motion with her hands as she spoke an incantation in a voice too soft to hear. Then she placed her left hand on Finbar’s shoulder and whispered something into his ear. Then she kissed him.
“YAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGHGHH!!!!!!” Finbar screamed at the top of his lungs and leapt twenty feet into the air propelled by Danielle’s magic. In each hand he held a short sword with razor sharp blades. He came down like a meteor on top of a soldier who barely had time to look up before the ferrets blades punched through his armor and into his chest. The man was dead before his body even struck the floor.
Teria’s spell had knocked down a section of the floor creating a ramp from where the keepers were up to the level of enemies. Padraic charged up the makeshift ramp leaping over the corpses and debris as he dodge a hail of spears and arrows aimed at him. In one hand was his shield and in the other his sword. He slammed the shield straight into a man at least three times his own weight sending the massive fighter tumbling backwards. He followed after the fallen warrior and ran right up onto his chest with surprising nimbleness. Then he plunged his sword through the thickest part of the armor and into the mans heart killing him instantly.
Eldrid came charging right behind the rabbit with a sword in each hand as flames danced and licked along the full length of each blade. Three soldiers with spears charged Eldrid and Padraic. The wolverine swung his swords cutting the metal heads off two of the spears as their wooden shafts burst into flames.
Padraic dodged the third spear easily pushing the point aside with his shield and disemboweled its wielder with his sword. Without waiting he charged two other soldiers wielding great swords. He deftly and gracefully dodged both of the massive blades and plunged his own weapon into the chest of one of them. Then the rabbit turned and lashed out with those powerful legs and broke the right knee of the other swordsman. The man collapsed to the floor and the Keeper slashed open his throat with a sword.
The wolverine stabbed a soldier in the stomach with his broadsword driving the point through his armor and deep into the flesh behind. There was a bright flash and the man was sent flying through the air over twenty feet before coming to rest against a wall.
In spite of the surprise Celerius responded well. He blocked one attack with his shield and the other with his sword. The harsh ringing of metal on metal filled Misha’s ears but he heard none of it. The fox fixed his mind on the fight and killing this vile man.
The knights sword swung in an arc meant to disembowel Misha but the agile fox leapt out of the way and the weapon touched nothing but empty air.
Misha countered by swinging both blades at the man. One aimed high at his chest and the other aimed low at the mans legs. The upper blade slammed harmlessly into the mans shield but the lower one caught his leg and sliced through the metal protecting it. He felt it bite into the flesh and bone underneath.
Celerius gave a shout in pain but he didn’t fall. Instead he hopped backward on his undamaged leg. Misha didn’t relent. Instead he pressed forward blocking the knights sword with one blade and stabbing at his chest with the other.
The man slammed his shield into Misha using his full weight to send the fox stumbling backwards. Celerius charged forward to kill the scout. But with a skill born of years of fighting Lutins and the nimbleness of a fox Misha checked his fall and dodged the blade. The blade ripped through his armor and bit deeply into his skin. Misha gasped in pain as he felt his left side burn with a pain that seared through to the core.
The fight was a bitter one. The defenders fought with a surprising ferocity and none asked for any nor showed any mercy. In return the keepers fought just as ferociously. All had long and bitter hatreds of Nasoj and any loyal to him. Too many of their friends had died at the hands of people like this for them to have any compassion. Swords clashed and rang loudly in the air mixing with the shouts and grunts of the combatants along with the screams and groans of the wounded and dieing.
Edmund, Eldrid and Padraic were standing back to back fighting three times there own number of soldiers. Eldrid and Padraic fought with fire and passion putting their whole heart and soul into the fight. They exalted when an enemy fell to the floor in death and taking each wound to themselves as a personal affront to be avenged. Edmund fought calmly keeping his emotions in check and devoting his thoughts to fighting and winning. He didn’t exalt in killing an enemy but was oddly sad that the persons life had ended and their soul gone on to it’s final judgment.
Ferwig fought without emotion. He had been in too many fights to let his emotions get the better of him. Gruffydd felt good in his hands. The magic infused in the spear made his moves faster along with enhancing his strength. He charged three of the soldiers they were fighting. With a deft twist of Gruffydd he sent two spears flying from his opponents hands. The point of the third spear was headed straight for his chest when it was pushed harmlessly aside by Gruffydd’s powerful magic.
Without hesitating the hyena morph drove his own spear deep into the chest of one of the soldiers. Then as he pulled the point out he thrust the butt of the spear into the face of another man sending him to the floor.
In a different corner Rickkter and Matthias found themselves fighting side by side. The raccoon had that odd elvish weapon in his hand. His movements were as fluid and graceful as a dancer. Every twist and flourish of his form was absolute poetry in motion. Rickkter ran straight at a group of soldiers swinging his weapon as he moved. Suddenly just before he reached them the raccoon leapt into the air with the gracefulness of a gazelle. He tumbled through the air with the nimbleness of a trained gymnast. As he passed over the heads of the two men his arms swept down with lethal speed. As he landed softly on his paws two severed heads rolled between his legs. Without looking he bounded towards more enemy leaving two headless corpses and an amazed Matthias behind him.
The rat morph turned his attention to the remaining living enemies and launched himself into group of them paws first. Armored bodies scattered in every direction likes leaves in the wind. A man swung a massive sword down at the rat intending to split Matthias skull in two. At the last moment the rat morph dodged to one side and lashed out with his hands shattering the steel blade instantly. Then his right leg flashed outward and his paw smashed into the mans thigh denting the steel armor protecting it and shattering the bones in it with ease.
A lighting fast punch to the chest sent a second warrior flying back and into a wall with a crash. Then the body slid to the floor with the clatter of metal on stone. There was a paw shaped dent in the man’s breastplate that was over two inches deep.
Looking around Matthias found Rickkter. The warrior raccoon was surrounded by five soldiers but was having no problems holding them at bay.
Rickkter was moving with an amazing grace and agility and he easily avoided the swords and spears trying kill him. Deftly wielding his elvish blade he disemboweled one man and cut the legs from under a second.
The rat closed the distance between him and Rickkter in moments. Busy trying to kill Rickkter the soldiers didn’t see Matthias till it was too late. Leaping upward the rat smashed paws first into one of the armored soldiers back sending him flying forward into Rickkter. The raccoon morph leapt deftly over the flying body and the man slammed into one of his compatriots sending both of them tumbling across the floor.
A bright bolt of lightening suddenly appeared and thundered down towards where Danielle was standing. The pine marten morph gestured upwards with her hands and the bolt suddenly bent upwards crashing into the roof overhead. Everyone ducked as chunks of stone rained down on them.
Teria gestured with her arm like she was throwing a spear even though her hands were empty. As she finished the mock throwing gesture a spear made of bright red light leapt from her hand and raced across the hall to where the woman mage stood. Just before the bright missile would have struck the mages chest it exploded into countless sparks that sprayed around her harmlessly.
The mage countered by shouting something and raising her hands over her head and wiggling her fingers. A soft rain began to fall around Teria but this was not water falling. When the drops struck the floor the stones hissed and melted under the assault of the acid. But none of the drops struck the wild dog morph, instead they bounced off of her hide harmlessly as if she was made of iron instead of flesh and blood.
Without hesitating Teria made a waving motion with both hands toward her opponent. The ground underneath the woman mage started to ripple and swirl like a flag in the wind. For a moment it seemed that she would loose her balance and fall then she stomped down hard with her right foot and the stone floor stopped moving and returned to being as still as it should be.
There was anger in the woman’s eyes and she glowered at Teria for a moment. Then she took a small little ball from a pouch, blew on it and then tossed the little orb straight the dog morph. The little sphere grew larger and larger as it flew through the air till it was over five feet wide and weighed over a ton.
Teria waited till the deadly meteor was barely ten feet from her. Then she jabbed her finger at the onrushing sphere and it exploded into thousands of little pieces which showered harmlessly over everything.
Bringing both hands together as if she was praying Teria closed her eyes and began to move her hands in circles. They were small at first but with each rotation her hands moved in larger and faster circles. As they moved Danielle could see a dark smoky cloud begin to form around the morph moving in circles around her. As Teria’s hands moved faster so did the smoke moved around her.
Danielle took a hand axe from her belt and threw it hard at the mage. Distracted by Teria’s spells the woman didn’t see the missile till it was far too late. The blade slammed straight into her face which exploded in a spray of blood and gore. Headless, the body dropped to the floor.
Teria looked at Danielle with amazement and anger as the smoke around her stopped swirling and then faded into nothingness.
“What is wrong?” Danielle asked.
“You made me waste a fine spell,” came the angry answer.
“I was taught to exploit an enemies weakness. Her weakness,” Danielle said and pointed towards the headless corpse. “Was combat. She was protected against spells not weapons.”
“My spell would have killed her if you hadn’t interfered.”
“Perhaps,” Danielle answered softly. “But you were taking too long. There are a lot more people to kill and no little time to waste on duels of pride.”
Teria looked at Danielle. “Waste? You have been with Finbar too much.”
“Why waste time with flashy spells when a good solid blade can do the job for you, a lot quicker.”
The canine mage laughed. “You have been around that knife wielding maniac far too much.”
Danielle laid her ears back and started to speak but Teria silenced her with wave of her hand. “Why fight each other when we have a lot more enemies to kill.”
The Long scout fixed Teria with gaze that surprised her with it’s intensity. Then she turned and pulling another axe from her belt. She threw the weapon at one of the soldiers fighting Finbar in an almost casual move. It sailed through the air and embedded its sharp blade in the mans back. His body slumped to the floor with out a word or a sound.
Misha swung his sword hilt first into the mans face with a force that not even the helm he was wearing could stop. Celerius staggered backward and them stumbled to the ground, landing on his hands and knees. The fox leapt onto the mans back and drove both blades through the plate armor and into the spine beneath it. As the human collapsed to the ground the fox jumped off. Without waiting to see if he was dead Misha swung both swords down on the mans neck. The fox watched with delight as Celerius’ severed head rolled across the floor before coming to rest against a wall. The fox looked around to see how the fight was faring and if there were any more enemies to kill.
The battle around him was winding down. Celerius and the mage were dead along with most of their soldiers. Those who remained lost their desire to fight and quickly vanished from the room. Leaving through the same door the Keepers had used to enter. That left the Keepers alone with only the dead and dieing around them.
With the realization that the battle was over the rage slowly left Misha’s body draining him of his strength and of all desire to fight. All that was left was a weariness and a longing for home. He slumped to the ground, right there amidst the blood and gore of battle and rested his exhausted body.