Shifti - User contributions [en]

Paradigm Shift (Setting)

2026-01-14T04:35:43Z

Lem: Update date range for A Fire in the sky Book4

{{Universe|Paradigm Shift}}

[[User:Jetfire/Big Sky Country|Original Story]]

=={{separator|f|Concept}}==

What happens when thousands of people are changed all at once with no warning and no explanation? How do they react? How does the rest of the world react?

This setting explores that concept.

=={{separator|f|Basics}}==

On March 20, 2023, 100,000 people in southern Colorado changed throughout the day into strange centaur creatures, eventually called 'Titans'.

No one had an explanation for how nor why this happened. It was thought/hoped to be a one-off event, until September 23, 2023, when 100,000 more people were changed into hermaphroditic griffons in an area centered around the Alberta/Montana/Saskatchewan border tripoint.

Now, the Changed are trying to figure out what they are and how to put their changed lives back together. And everyone else is worried when and where it might strike next.

The Change triggers at exactly 10AM local time on the day of an equinox. (or 10AM local time for the majority of the affected region, if it straddles time zones)

It affects a region forming a circle of about 100km (60miles) radius around a centre point.
It will usually affect about 100,000 people.

* Anyone within the region at the trigger will be affected.
* Leaving the region will not stop it.
* Entering after the trigger will not start it.

* Any post-adolescent human will be affected if they are within the area when triggered, unless they are pregnant.
* All injuries and disabilities (including lost limbs or other infirmities) are healed; as long as you are not brain dead, you will heal up.
* Age is generally reset to late 20's/early 30's equivalent for their new bodies.

=={{separator|f|Stories in Chronological Order}}==

Authors may add links to their stories as they happen in chronological order in story time.
For a complete listing of all Paradigm Shift stories, see [[:Category:Paradigm Shift|the Paradigm Shift Category]].

'''2023'''
*[[User:Jetfire/School_Daze_Day_1|School Daze Day 1]] Leo Mayes High School Students and Teachers ''2023.09.22-2023.09.23'' ''([[User:Jetfire|Jetfire]])''
*[[User:Jetfire/School_Daze_Day_2|School Daze Day 2]] Leo Mayes High School Students and Teachers ''2023.09.24'' ''([[User:Jetfire|Jetfire]])''
*[[User:Jetfire/School_Daze_Day_3|School Daze Day 3]] Leo Mayes High School Students and Teachers ''2023.09.25'' ''([[User:Jetfire|Jetfire]])''

*[[User:Jetfire/Big_Sky_Country|Big Sky Country]] Skyfire ''2023.09.23-2023.11.09'' ''([[User:Jetfire|Jetfire]])''
*[[User:Jetfire/A_Fire_in_the_Sky_Book2|A Fire in the Sky Book2]] Skyfire ''2023.11.11-2023.12.28'' ''([[User:Jetfire|Jetfire]])''

'''2024'''
*[[User:Jetfire/A_Fire_in_the_Sky_Book3|A Fire in the Sky Book3]] Skyfire ''2024.01.01-2024.02.16'' ''([[User:Jetfire|Jetfire]])''
*[[User:Jetfire/Stormy_Skies|Stormy Skies]] Danica ''2024.01'' ''([[User:Jetfire|Jetfire]])''
*[[User:Jetfire/A_Fire_in_the_Sky_Book4|A Fire in the Sky Book4]] Skyfire ''2024.02.16-2024.03.19'' ''([[User:Jetfire|Jetfire]])''

Paradigm Shift (Setting)

2026-01-14T04:29:53Z

Lem: Added A Fire in the Sky Book4

User talk:Jetfire

2024-12-30T00:10:57Z

Lem: /* Paradigm Shift category and Setting */ correct creole

== Post Previously in Page Heading ==

Hi, just thought I should drop a note here since I imagine most authors won't be regularly checking [[Help:Templates]] for updates. I've finally added a template that I should have created long ago, a tag to put on userpages to facilitate linking to your personal story category; [[Template:My stories]]. If you want, just stick this code at the top of your userpage to create a standardized little box with a direct link in it: <nowiki>{{my stories}}</nowiki>. [[User:Bryan|Bryan]] 22:25, 18 January 2008 (EST)

== Paradise Categories ==

I just wanted to let you know that your Veil stories should have the Paradise Category as well. The Veil is actually a ''subcategory'' of Paradise. In addition, all stories get the Story category so they show up on the All Stories page. Thanks. --[[User:JonBuck|Buck]] 14:50, 24 January 2008 (EST)

==IDIC Meeting?==

I came across your stories on the IDIC while searching for multiverse based fictional organizations, and wondered if you might be interested in a meeting with Agents from another group of stories called the PPC, or Protectors of the Plot Continuum. Agents from the PPC, somewhat similarly to your IDIC teams, visit fictional universes to maintain the status quo. They do this by removing bad fanfic and the fic's characters from the stories by killing them. Just wondering if you might be interested in representatives from each group bumping into each other somehow, as your IDIC apparently covers all fictional universes.

Here's a link: http://ppc.wikia.com/wiki/PPC_Wiki

:Interesting setting. (Though as I just added) IDIC wasn't originally my idea (not that a Multiverse setting is all that original). It's origins are on the TSA; I'm just taking my own take on it and spinning it.

:The meta setting is still gelling for me as I write my own stories (specifically what the Tangle is and how it relates to everything) but the setting in general is wide open for anyone to write in and do what they want. If there are conflicts it's always easy to just handwave them as different actions in similar universes/multiverses. :)

Hmm...are there any informational links for the setting?

:Not really, since it's a meta setting really, as in literally anything goes. If something happens that you don't like that someone else wrote, feel free to ignore it. (Though I would generally try to be consistant with my own stuff. :)

:I'm on IRC all the time if you want to talk more or find out my thoughts on what the Tangle is and what my crew/little corner is about.

*NOTE: Copied the discussion over to [[Category_talk:IDIC]]. Probably best to continue it over there. :)
--[[User:Jetfire|Jetfire]] 09:21, 19 January 2009 (EST)

== Request... ==

Um, hi, I'm Drake, and I hope you could let me use your character AT in my story (Paradise setting)...If permitted, he/she is going to be the one that Jon (main character) consults after first change...and I can send you a copy of the story first. I also hope you can read through the story when I'm done (it'll be some time from now; I'm a slow writer) and let me know what you think. Thanks a lot :) I could only contact you via your talk page as there was no "Send message" link to use...sorry that I took up a new section. -- [[User: WolfyDrake95| Drake]]
02 April 2009, 19:50 (+0800 GMT)

Sure, just let me take a gander at it when it's done/near done and we can make sure things work out fine, but I don't see why not.
--[[User:Jetfire|Jetfire]] 00:09, 3 April 2009 (UTC)

Thanks for trusting me! It'll take some time though: I still have homework and projects left over, so it won't be done in a hurry. Still, I'll work as fast as I can. I'll try to speed it up a little. -- [[User: WolfyDrake95| Drake]] 04 April 2009 15:10 (+0800 GMT)

Hey Jetfire, I'm almost done with the story. I'm working on the last edits, improving a little here and there but it should be ready in one or two days. You can take a gander now. Or even ''two'' ganders. Okay, so I don't know what a gander is. But I hope you could help me check through my story, for inconsistencies with AT's character or the timeline in general, and stuff like that, and also give a critical review. Could you provide me your email address to send the Microsoft Word document to? I don't really want to post it on Shifti yet until the editing is 100% complete. Once again, thanks for kicking me into action, and offering to check my story! :)
-- [[User: WolfyDrake95| Drake]] 20 April 2009 22:17, (+0800 GMT)

Umm...Reply soon? Thanks! --[[User: WolfyDrake95| Drake]] 27 April 2009 22:17, (+0800 GMT)

ok guess you can send it to taeolas@yahoo.com that should work.

Got it. I'm editing a large part again...it might take a little longer. Expect an email from "Johnathan Wong" at "drake_halounity@hotmail.com" ----[[User: WolfyDrake95| Drake]] 1 May 2009 21:22

All right, sent the story to the above email address. Hope it's correct...actually I'm not sure if that even ''is'' you, 'cos you didn't sign off after naming your email. Just checkin', hope I didn't send to the wrong one. Thanks once again for helping me out! -- [[User: WolfyDrake95| Drake]] 5 May 2009 15:52

:According to the logs it was Jetfire that posted that e-mail address. -- [[User:ShadowWolf|ShadowWolf]] 02:38, 6 May 2009 (UTC)

::Wow, I didn't know ShadowWolf was watching this convo...unnerving. O.o Anyway, I finally posted the final version of my silly story on Shifti. Thanks a lot for critiquing it (and bearing with me)! --[[User:WolfyDrake95|Drake]] 14 May 2009, 22:17

==Just a complement==

I just wanted to drop a line to let you know I really liked your Veil series. I haven't finished it yet but I am enjoying it so far. Usually stories that feature the characters changing into some type of anthro animal are kinda shallow. I liked yours because you actually thought of details like how their diet changes, how interactions change and to what degree their instincts change. Good job I'll make sure to keep posted.

== Trying to contact you ==
So I'm trying to get ahold of you for my XCom project and can't find where your E-mail address is, nor do I often surf the IRCs. Ergo, I'm hoping you're "Watching" this page and will get back to me. --[[User:Doomreaver|Doomreaver]] ([[User talk:Doomreaver|talk]]) 19:33, 16 June 2014 (CDT)

== What Will Arka's Future Hold? ==
Hey, Jetfire; I was wondering what plans you had in mind for the future that lies ahead for Arka, one of the EIDE characters from your story '[[User:Jetfire/The Touch|The Touch]].' About seven eighths of the way through that story, you mention that the EIDE in question would like to become either a mammalian RIDE of some kind or a griffin RIDE. It turns out that I'm actually working on a [http://morfs.nowhere2go.org/ MORFS]/[[FreeRIDErs (setting)|''FreeRIDErs'']] cross-over story. Even though this may not seem to be connected to your efforts at all (at least at first,) it turns out that I need somebody similar to the main character whom I'm going to have come in from the [http://morfs.nowhere2go.org/ 'MORFS'] universe. The reason for this is that I need somebody to reside in the [[FreeRIDErs (setting)|''FreeRIDErs'' universe]] so that my character from the [http://morfs.nowhere2go.org/ 'MORFS'] universe can use her as a reference point with which to calibrate her subspace senses in preparation for a jump that will incidentally land my character from the [http://morfs.nowhere2go.org/ MORFS] universe next to this character in the [[FreeRIDErs (setting)|''FreeRIDErs'' universe]]. I currently think that my character from the [http://morfs.nowhere2go.org/ 'MORFS'] universe will be a hominin/avian/feline/lupine/vulpine hybrid with the ability to access, interpret, manipulate, and travel through subspace as it exists in both her own universe and throughout the multiverse. 
     I could create somebody like that in the [[FreeRIDErs (setting)|''FreeRIDErs'' universe]] with whom she could make contact after making her subspace jump and landing next to her, but I'm relatively inexperienced at writing and was wondering whether I could start getting to know how to do it by helping somebody else with something on which they're already working. The best I'm hoping for is to maybe be a bit of a proofreader and idea sounding-board, but you can involve me some more if you want. I even have some more ideas if you want to use them; for instance, I know that Yuri and Skyfire, also from your story '[[User:Jetfire/The Touch|The Touch]],' are thinking about joining the Gondwanan Federated Marshals and that Arka has expressed possible interest in following in their footsteps after she becomes a RIDE. I've also noticed that at least ''one'' of the Marshals will, due to the outcome of your story '[[User:Jetfire/Spies Among Us|Spies Among Us]],' have to undertake a mission to the Sol system in order to deliver some means of communicating with the Marshals back on Zharus to Ryan, Helena, and Spot. Since pre-constructed DINcoms like the one which these latter three individuals tried to bring with them on their way from Zharus to Mars in order to stay in touch with their superiors back at the Marshals' headquarters would be unlikely to survive a trip through subspace at ''all'', then a mission to reconnect these agents with their superiors would probably have to transport to then the ''means'' of ''constructing'' one. 
     The problem with this idea is that I'm not sure if [[User:Robotech Master|Robotech Master]] and [[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]] might be willing to make someone in the [[FreeRIDErs (setting)|''FreeRIDErs'' universe]] (likely Rhianna Stonegate since she invented the DINcom in the first place) create a version of that device that can be paired with another one after it has been fabricated. As for the mission itself, could Arka possibly be part of it? And if she were to take part in it, then would she have found a human partner to bring along on the mission with her before it started? If Arka had a human partner, then this human partner could easily serve as a target for my cross-over character's subspace jump since the ship on which Arka would be traveling if she were to take part in reconnecting Ryan, Helena, and Spot to the Marshals would bring her and her human partner close enough to Earth for my character from the [http://morfs.nowhere2go.org/ 'MORFS'] universe to make a jump to it. My current thoughts on why she would consider executing such an impossible jump is that she might ''have'' to teleport out of range of teleportation-capable members of a group of people who want her to use her powers to their advantage chasing her around in her own universe in order to escape their pursuit of her. I know that this would interrupt the mission in which Arka might take part, but maybe this could be an alternate ending or something? 
— [[User:RandomDSdevel|RandomDSdevel]] ([[User talk:RandomDSdevel|talk]]) Originally posted at 2:44 PM EDY on October 30th, 2014. Last updated at 3:19 PM EST on January 29th, 2015. 
P. S.: By the way, how's [[User:Jetfire/The Power|'The Power']] coming along? I'm looking forward to reading it!
:If you're still interested, I've come up with [[User:RandomDSdevel/Sandbox/Works in Progress/Documentation/Carter Hawkinson|a human partner for Arka]]. I haven't really gotten that deep into developing him as a character yet, but I currently envision him as someone who gets reconstructed from a copy of his genome and a complete map of his brain and has to adjust to waking up about five hundred years after historical records say he died of complications resulting from some kind of [[en:Wikipedia:Motor neuron disease|motor neuron disease]]. That might make for some interesting dialog, don't you think?
:— [[User:RandomDSdevel|RandomDSdevel]] ([[User talk:RandomDSdevel|talk]]) 20:06, 27 February 2015 (EST)

== Paradigm Shift category and Setting ==

Jetfire,

Thank you for writing the Paradigm Shift stories.
I added [[:Category:Stories_by_setting]] to [[:Category:Paradigm_Shift]], and created [[Paradigm Shift (Setting)]] page.
As soon as feasible, please correct/review the Setting description for accuracy, and remove the non-canon warning.

Hopefully helpful,

--[[User:Lem|Lem Lemur (talk)]] ([[User talk:Lem|talk]]) 18:08, 29 December 2024 (CST)

User talk:Jetfire

2024-12-30T00:07:28Z

Lem: /* Paradigm Shift category and Setting */ correct creole

== Post Previously in Page Heading ==

Hi, just thought I should drop a note here since I imagine most authors won't be regularly checking [[Help:Templates]] for updates. I've finally added a template that I should have created long ago, a tag to put on userpages to facilitate linking to your personal story category; [[Template:My stories]]. If you want, just stick this code at the top of your userpage to create a standardized little box with a direct link in it: <nowiki>{{my stories}}</nowiki>. [[User:Bryan|Bryan]] 22:25, 18 January 2008 (EST)

== Paradise Categories ==

I just wanted to let you know that your Veil stories should have the Paradise Category as well. The Veil is actually a ''subcategory'' of Paradise. In addition, all stories get the Story category so they show up on the All Stories page. Thanks. --[[User:JonBuck|Buck]] 14:50, 24 January 2008 (EST)

==IDIC Meeting?==

I came across your stories on the IDIC while searching for multiverse based fictional organizations, and wondered if you might be interested in a meeting with Agents from another group of stories called the PPC, or Protectors of the Plot Continuum. Agents from the PPC, somewhat similarly to your IDIC teams, visit fictional universes to maintain the status quo. They do this by removing bad fanfic and the fic's characters from the stories by killing them. Just wondering if you might be interested in representatives from each group bumping into each other somehow, as your IDIC apparently covers all fictional universes.

Here's a link: http://ppc.wikia.com/wiki/PPC_Wiki

:Interesting setting. (Though as I just added) IDIC wasn't originally my idea (not that a Multiverse setting is all that original). It's origins are on the TSA; I'm just taking my own take on it and spinning it.

:The meta setting is still gelling for me as I write my own stories (specifically what the Tangle is and how it relates to everything) but the setting in general is wide open for anyone to write in and do what they want. If there are conflicts it's always easy to just handwave them as different actions in similar universes/multiverses. :)

Hmm...are there any informational links for the setting?

:Not really, since it's a meta setting really, as in literally anything goes. If something happens that you don't like that someone else wrote, feel free to ignore it. (Though I would generally try to be consistant with my own stuff. :)

:I'm on IRC all the time if you want to talk more or find out my thoughts on what the Tangle is and what my crew/little corner is about.

*NOTE: Copied the discussion over to [[Category_talk:IDIC]]. Probably best to continue it over there. :)
--[[User:Jetfire|Jetfire]] 09:21, 19 January 2009 (EST)

== Request... ==

Um, hi, I'm Drake, and I hope you could let me use your character AT in my story (Paradise setting)...If permitted, he/she is going to be the one that Jon (main character) consults after first change...and I can send you a copy of the story first. I also hope you can read through the story when I'm done (it'll be some time from now; I'm a slow writer) and let me know what you think. Thanks a lot :) I could only contact you via your talk page as there was no "Send message" link to use...sorry that I took up a new section. -- [[User: WolfyDrake95| Drake]]
02 April 2009, 19:50 (+0800 GMT)

Sure, just let me take a gander at it when it's done/near done and we can make sure things work out fine, but I don't see why not.
--[[User:Jetfire|Jetfire]] 00:09, 3 April 2009 (UTC)

Thanks for trusting me! It'll take some time though: I still have homework and projects left over, so it won't be done in a hurry. Still, I'll work as fast as I can. I'll try to speed it up a little. -- [[User: WolfyDrake95| Drake]] 04 April 2009 15:10 (+0800 GMT)

Hey Jetfire, I'm almost done with the story. I'm working on the last edits, improving a little here and there but it should be ready in one or two days. You can take a gander now. Or even ''two'' ganders. Okay, so I don't know what a gander is. But I hope you could help me check through my story, for inconsistencies with AT's character or the timeline in general, and stuff like that, and also give a critical review. Could you provide me your email address to send the Microsoft Word document to? I don't really want to post it on Shifti yet until the editing is 100% complete. Once again, thanks for kicking me into action, and offering to check my story! :)
-- [[User: WolfyDrake95| Drake]] 20 April 2009 22:17, (+0800 GMT)

Umm...Reply soon? Thanks! --[[User: WolfyDrake95| Drake]] 27 April 2009 22:17, (+0800 GMT)

ok guess you can send it to taeolas@yahoo.com that should work.

Got it. I'm editing a large part again...it might take a little longer. Expect an email from "Johnathan Wong" at "drake_halounity@hotmail.com" ----[[User: WolfyDrake95| Drake]] 1 May 2009 21:22

All right, sent the story to the above email address. Hope it's correct...actually I'm not sure if that even ''is'' you, 'cos you didn't sign off after naming your email. Just checkin', hope I didn't send to the wrong one. Thanks once again for helping me out! -- [[User: WolfyDrake95| Drake]] 5 May 2009 15:52

:According to the logs it was Jetfire that posted that e-mail address. -- [[User:ShadowWolf|ShadowWolf]] 02:38, 6 May 2009 (UTC)

::Wow, I didn't know ShadowWolf was watching this convo...unnerving. O.o Anyway, I finally posted the final version of my silly story on Shifti. Thanks a lot for critiquing it (and bearing with me)! --[[User:WolfyDrake95|Drake]] 14 May 2009, 22:17

==Just a complement==

I just wanted to drop a line to let you know I really liked your Veil series. I haven't finished it yet but I am enjoying it so far. Usually stories that feature the characters changing into some type of anthro animal are kinda shallow. I liked yours because you actually thought of details like how their diet changes, how interactions change and to what degree their instincts change. Good job I'll make sure to keep posted.

== Trying to contact you ==
So I'm trying to get ahold of you for my XCom project and can't find where your E-mail address is, nor do I often surf the IRCs. Ergo, I'm hoping you're "Watching" this page and will get back to me. --[[User:Doomreaver|Doomreaver]] ([[User talk:Doomreaver|talk]]) 19:33, 16 June 2014 (CDT)

== What Will Arka's Future Hold? ==
Hey, Jetfire; I was wondering what plans you had in mind for the future that lies ahead for Arka, one of the EIDE characters from your story '[[User:Jetfire/The Touch|The Touch]].' About seven eighths of the way through that story, you mention that the EIDE in question would like to become either a mammalian RIDE of some kind or a griffin RIDE. It turns out that I'm actually working on a [http://morfs.nowhere2go.org/ MORFS]/[[FreeRIDErs (setting)|''FreeRIDErs'']] cross-over story. Even though this may not seem to be connected to your efforts at all (at least at first,) it turns out that I need somebody similar to the main character whom I'm going to have come in from the [http://morfs.nowhere2go.org/ 'MORFS'] universe. The reason for this is that I need somebody to reside in the [[FreeRIDErs (setting)|''FreeRIDErs'' universe]] so that my character from the [http://morfs.nowhere2go.org/ 'MORFS'] universe can use her as a reference point with which to calibrate her subspace senses in preparation for a jump that will incidentally land my character from the [http://morfs.nowhere2go.org/ MORFS] universe next to this character in the [[FreeRIDErs (setting)|''FreeRIDErs'' universe]]. I currently think that my character from the [http://morfs.nowhere2go.org/ 'MORFS'] universe will be a hominin/avian/feline/lupine/vulpine hybrid with the ability to access, interpret, manipulate, and travel through subspace as it exists in both her own universe and throughout the multiverse. 
     I could create somebody like that in the [[FreeRIDErs (setting)|''FreeRIDErs'' universe]] with whom she could make contact after making her subspace jump and landing next to her, but I'm relatively inexperienced at writing and was wondering whether I could start getting to know how to do it by helping somebody else with something on which they're already working. The best I'm hoping for is to maybe be a bit of a proofreader and idea sounding-board, but you can involve me some more if you want. I even have some more ideas if you want to use them; for instance, I know that Yuri and Skyfire, also from your story '[[User:Jetfire/The Touch|The Touch]],' are thinking about joining the Gondwanan Federated Marshals and that Arka has expressed possible interest in following in their footsteps after she becomes a RIDE. I've also noticed that at least ''one'' of the Marshals will, due to the outcome of your story '[[User:Jetfire/Spies Among Us|Spies Among Us]],' have to undertake a mission to the Sol system in order to deliver some means of communicating with the Marshals back on Zharus to Ryan, Helena, and Spot. Since pre-constructed DINcoms like the one which these latter three individuals tried to bring with them on their way from Zharus to Mars in order to stay in touch with their superiors back at the Marshals' headquarters would be unlikely to survive a trip through subspace at ''all'', then a mission to reconnect these agents with their superiors would probably have to transport to then the ''means'' of ''constructing'' one. 
     The problem with this idea is that I'm not sure if [[User:Robotech Master|Robotech Master]] and [[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]] might be willing to make someone in the [[FreeRIDErs (setting)|''FreeRIDErs'' universe]] (likely Rhianna Stonegate since she invented the DINcom in the first place) create a version of that device that can be paired with another one after it has been fabricated. As for the mission itself, could Arka possibly be part of it? And if she were to take part in it, then would she have found a human partner to bring along on the mission with her before it started? If Arka had a human partner, then this human partner could easily serve as a target for my cross-over character's subspace jump since the ship on which Arka would be traveling if she were to take part in reconnecting Ryan, Helena, and Spot to the Marshals would bring her and her human partner close enough to Earth for my character from the [http://morfs.nowhere2go.org/ 'MORFS'] universe to make a jump to it. My current thoughts on why she would consider executing such an impossible jump is that she might ''have'' to teleport out of range of teleportation-capable members of a group of people who want her to use her powers to their advantage chasing her around in her own universe in order to escape their pursuit of her. I know that this would interrupt the mission in which Arka might take part, but maybe this could be an alternate ending or something? 
— [[User:RandomDSdevel|RandomDSdevel]] ([[User talk:RandomDSdevel|talk]]) Originally posted at 2:44 PM EDY on October 30th, 2014. Last updated at 3:19 PM EST on January 29th, 2015. 
P. S.: By the way, how's [[User:Jetfire/The Power|'The Power']] coming along? I'm looking forward to reading it!
:If you're still interested, I've come up with [[User:RandomDSdevel/Sandbox/Works in Progress/Documentation/Carter Hawkinson|a human partner for Arka]]. I haven't really gotten that deep into developing him as a character yet, but I currently envision him as someone who gets reconstructed from a copy of his genome and a complete map of his brain and has to adjust to waking up about five hundred years after historical records say he died of complications resulting from some kind of [[en:Wikipedia:Motor neuron disease|motor neuron disease]]. That might make for some interesting dialog, don't you think?
:— [[User:RandomDSdevel|RandomDSdevel]] ([[User talk:RandomDSdevel|talk]]) 20:06, 27 February 2015 (EST)

== Paradigm Shift category and Setting ==

Jetfire,

Thank you for writing the Paradigm Shift stories.
I added [[:Category:Stories_by_setting]] to [[:Category:Paradigm_Shift]], and created [[Paradigm Shift (Setting)]] page.
As soon as feasible, please correct/review the Setting description for accuracy, and remove the non-canon warning.

Hopefully helpful, --[[User:Lem|Lem Lemur (talk)]] ([[User talk:Lem|talk]]) 18:06, 29 December 2024 (CST)

User talk:Jetfire

2024-12-30T00:03:47Z

Lem: /* Paradigm Shift category and Setting */ correct creole

== Post Previously in Page Heading ==

Hi, just thought I should drop a note here since I imagine most authors won't be regularly checking [[Help:Templates]] for updates. I've finally added a template that I should have created long ago, a tag to put on userpages to facilitate linking to your personal story category; [[Template:My stories]]. If you want, just stick this code at the top of your userpage to create a standardized little box with a direct link in it: <nowiki>{{my stories}}</nowiki>. [[User:Bryan|Bryan]] 22:25, 18 January 2008 (EST)

== Paradise Categories ==

I just wanted to let you know that your Veil stories should have the Paradise Category as well. The Veil is actually a ''subcategory'' of Paradise. In addition, all stories get the Story category so they show up on the All Stories page. Thanks. --[[User:JonBuck|Buck]] 14:50, 24 January 2008 (EST)

==IDIC Meeting?==

I came across your stories on the IDIC while searching for multiverse based fictional organizations, and wondered if you might be interested in a meeting with Agents from another group of stories called the PPC, or Protectors of the Plot Continuum. Agents from the PPC, somewhat similarly to your IDIC teams, visit fictional universes to maintain the status quo. They do this by removing bad fanfic and the fic's characters from the stories by killing them. Just wondering if you might be interested in representatives from each group bumping into each other somehow, as your IDIC apparently covers all fictional universes.

Here's a link: http://ppc.wikia.com/wiki/PPC_Wiki

:Interesting setting. (Though as I just added) IDIC wasn't originally my idea (not that a Multiverse setting is all that original). It's origins are on the TSA; I'm just taking my own take on it and spinning it.

:The meta setting is still gelling for me as I write my own stories (specifically what the Tangle is and how it relates to everything) but the setting in general is wide open for anyone to write in and do what they want. If there are conflicts it's always easy to just handwave them as different actions in similar universes/multiverses. :)

Hmm...are there any informational links for the setting?

:Not really, since it's a meta setting really, as in literally anything goes. If something happens that you don't like that someone else wrote, feel free to ignore it. (Though I would generally try to be consistant with my own stuff. :)

:I'm on IRC all the time if you want to talk more or find out my thoughts on what the Tangle is and what my crew/little corner is about.

*NOTE: Copied the discussion over to [[Category_talk:IDIC]]. Probably best to continue it over there. :)
--[[User:Jetfire|Jetfire]] 09:21, 19 January 2009 (EST)

== Request... ==

Um, hi, I'm Drake, and I hope you could let me use your character AT in my story (Paradise setting)...If permitted, he/she is going to be the one that Jon (main character) consults after first change...and I can send you a copy of the story first. I also hope you can read through the story when I'm done (it'll be some time from now; I'm a slow writer) and let me know what you think. Thanks a lot :) I could only contact you via your talk page as there was no "Send message" link to use...sorry that I took up a new section. -- [[User: WolfyDrake95| Drake]]
02 April 2009, 19:50 (+0800 GMT)

Sure, just let me take a gander at it when it's done/near done and we can make sure things work out fine, but I don't see why not.
--[[User:Jetfire|Jetfire]] 00:09, 3 April 2009 (UTC)

Thanks for trusting me! It'll take some time though: I still have homework and projects left over, so it won't be done in a hurry. Still, I'll work as fast as I can. I'll try to speed it up a little. -- [[User: WolfyDrake95| Drake]] 04 April 2009 15:10 (+0800 GMT)

Hey Jetfire, I'm almost done with the story. I'm working on the last edits, improving a little here and there but it should be ready in one or two days. You can take a gander now. Or even ''two'' ganders. Okay, so I don't know what a gander is. But I hope you could help me check through my story, for inconsistencies with AT's character or the timeline in general, and stuff like that, and also give a critical review. Could you provide me your email address to send the Microsoft Word document to? I don't really want to post it on Shifti yet until the editing is 100% complete. Once again, thanks for kicking me into action, and offering to check my story! :)
-- [[User: WolfyDrake95| Drake]] 20 April 2009 22:17, (+0800 GMT)

Umm...Reply soon? Thanks! --[[User: WolfyDrake95| Drake]] 27 April 2009 22:17, (+0800 GMT)

ok guess you can send it to taeolas@yahoo.com that should work.

Got it. I'm editing a large part again...it might take a little longer. Expect an email from "Johnathan Wong" at "drake_halounity@hotmail.com" ----[[User: WolfyDrake95| Drake]] 1 May 2009 21:22

All right, sent the story to the above email address. Hope it's correct...actually I'm not sure if that even ''is'' you, 'cos you didn't sign off after naming your email. Just checkin', hope I didn't send to the wrong one. Thanks once again for helping me out! -- [[User: WolfyDrake95| Drake]] 5 May 2009 15:52

:According to the logs it was Jetfire that posted that e-mail address. -- [[User:ShadowWolf|ShadowWolf]] 02:38, 6 May 2009 (UTC)

::Wow, I didn't know ShadowWolf was watching this convo...unnerving. O.o Anyway, I finally posted the final version of my silly story on Shifti. Thanks a lot for critiquing it (and bearing with me)! --[[User:WolfyDrake95|Drake]] 14 May 2009, 22:17

==Just a complement==

I just wanted to drop a line to let you know I really liked your Veil series. I haven't finished it yet but I am enjoying it so far. Usually stories that feature the characters changing into some type of anthro animal are kinda shallow. I liked yours because you actually thought of details like how their diet changes, how interactions change and to what degree their instincts change. Good job I'll make sure to keep posted.

== Trying to contact you ==
So I'm trying to get ahold of you for my XCom project and can't find where your E-mail address is, nor do I often surf the IRCs. Ergo, I'm hoping you're "Watching" this page and will get back to me. --[[User:Doomreaver|Doomreaver]] ([[User talk:Doomreaver|talk]]) 19:33, 16 June 2014 (CDT)

== What Will Arka's Future Hold? ==
Hey, Jetfire; I was wondering what plans you had in mind for the future that lies ahead for Arka, one of the EIDE characters from your story '[[User:Jetfire/The Touch|The Touch]].' About seven eighths of the way through that story, you mention that the EIDE in question would like to become either a mammalian RIDE of some kind or a griffin RIDE. It turns out that I'm actually working on a [http://morfs.nowhere2go.org/ MORFS]/[[FreeRIDErs (setting)|''FreeRIDErs'']] cross-over story. Even though this may not seem to be connected to your efforts at all (at least at first,) it turns out that I need somebody similar to the main character whom I'm going to have come in from the [http://morfs.nowhere2go.org/ 'MORFS'] universe. The reason for this is that I need somebody to reside in the [[FreeRIDErs (setting)|''FreeRIDErs'' universe]] so that my character from the [http://morfs.nowhere2go.org/ 'MORFS'] universe can use her as a reference point with which to calibrate her subspace senses in preparation for a jump that will incidentally land my character from the [http://morfs.nowhere2go.org/ MORFS] universe next to this character in the [[FreeRIDErs (setting)|''FreeRIDErs'' universe]]. I currently think that my character from the [http://morfs.nowhere2go.org/ 'MORFS'] universe will be a hominin/avian/feline/lupine/vulpine hybrid with the ability to access, interpret, manipulate, and travel through subspace as it exists in both her own universe and throughout the multiverse. 
     I could create somebody like that in the [[FreeRIDErs (setting)|''FreeRIDErs'' universe]] with whom she could make contact after making her subspace jump and landing next to her, but I'm relatively inexperienced at writing and was wondering whether I could start getting to know how to do it by helping somebody else with something on which they're already working. The best I'm hoping for is to maybe be a bit of a proofreader and idea sounding-board, but you can involve me some more if you want. I even have some more ideas if you want to use them; for instance, I know that Yuri and Skyfire, also from your story '[[User:Jetfire/The Touch|The Touch]],' are thinking about joining the Gondwanan Federated Marshals and that Arka has expressed possible interest in following in their footsteps after she becomes a RIDE. I've also noticed that at least ''one'' of the Marshals will, due to the outcome of your story '[[User:Jetfire/Spies Among Us|Spies Among Us]],' have to undertake a mission to the Sol system in order to deliver some means of communicating with the Marshals back on Zharus to Ryan, Helena, and Spot. Since pre-constructed DINcoms like the one which these latter three individuals tried to bring with them on their way from Zharus to Mars in order to stay in touch with their superiors back at the Marshals' headquarters would be unlikely to survive a trip through subspace at ''all'', then a mission to reconnect these agents with their superiors would probably have to transport to then the ''means'' of ''constructing'' one. 
     The problem with this idea is that I'm not sure if [[User:Robotech Master|Robotech Master]] and [[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]] might be willing to make someone in the [[FreeRIDErs (setting)|''FreeRIDErs'' universe]] (likely Rhianna Stonegate since she invented the DINcom in the first place) create a version of that device that can be paired with another one after it has been fabricated. As for the mission itself, could Arka possibly be part of it? And if she were to take part in it, then would she have found a human partner to bring along on the mission with her before it started? If Arka had a human partner, then this human partner could easily serve as a target for my cross-over character's subspace jump since the ship on which Arka would be traveling if she were to take part in reconnecting Ryan, Helena, and Spot to the Marshals would bring her and her human partner close enough to Earth for my character from the [http://morfs.nowhere2go.org/ 'MORFS'] universe to make a jump to it. My current thoughts on why she would consider executing such an impossible jump is that she might ''have'' to teleport out of range of teleportation-capable members of a group of people who want her to use her powers to their advantage chasing her around in her own universe in order to escape their pursuit of her. I know that this would interrupt the mission in which Arka might take part, but maybe this could be an alternate ending or something? 
— [[User:RandomDSdevel|RandomDSdevel]] ([[User talk:RandomDSdevel|talk]]) Originally posted at 2:44 PM EDY on October 30th, 2014. Last updated at 3:19 PM EST on January 29th, 2015. 
P. S.: By the way, how's [[User:Jetfire/The Power|'The Power']] coming along? I'm looking forward to reading it!
:If you're still interested, I've come up with [[User:RandomDSdevel/Sandbox/Works in Progress/Documentation/Carter Hawkinson|a human partner for Arka]]. I haven't really gotten that deep into developing him as a character yet, but I currently envision him as someone who gets reconstructed from a copy of his genome and a complete map of his brain and has to adjust to waking up about five hundred years after historical records say he died of complications resulting from some kind of [[en:Wikipedia:Motor neuron disease|motor neuron disease]]. That might make for some interesting dialog, don't you think?
:— [[User:RandomDSdevel|RandomDSdevel]] ([[User talk:RandomDSdevel|talk]]) 20:06, 27 February 2015 (EST)

== Paradigm Shift category and Setting ==

Jetfire,

Thank you for writing the Paradigm Shift stories.
I added [[:Category:Stories_by_setting]] to [[:Category:Paradigm_Shift]], and created [[Paradigm Shift (Setting)]] page.
As soon as feasible, please correct/review the Setting description for accuracy, and remove the non-canon warning.

Hopefully helpful,
--[[User:Lem|Lem Lemur (talk)]] ([[User talk:Lem|talk]]) 18:02, 29 December 2024 (CST)

Category:Paradigm Shift

2024-12-29T23:30:23Z

Lem: Added pointer to setting page for this category

This page is for stories that take place in The Paradigm Shift setting. This is an automatic listing in alphabetical order. For a chronological listing, please see the [[Paradigm Shift (Setting)]] page.

[[Category:Stories by setting]]

User talk:Jetfire

2024-12-29T23:25:21Z

Lem: corrected creole

== Post Previously in Page Heading ==

Hi, just thought I should drop a note here since I imagine most authors won't be regularly checking [[Help:Templates]] for updates. I've finally added a template that I should have created long ago, a tag to put on userpages to facilitate linking to your personal story category; [[Template:My stories]]. If you want, just stick this code at the top of your userpage to create a standardized little box with a direct link in it: <nowiki>{{my stories}}</nowiki>. [[User:Bryan|Bryan]] 22:25, 18 January 2008 (EST)

== Paradise Categories ==

I just wanted to let you know that your Veil stories should have the Paradise Category as well. The Veil is actually a ''subcategory'' of Paradise. In addition, all stories get the Story category so they show up on the All Stories page. Thanks. --[[User:JonBuck|Buck]] 14:50, 24 January 2008 (EST)

==IDIC Meeting?==

I came across your stories on the IDIC while searching for multiverse based fictional organizations, and wondered if you might be interested in a meeting with Agents from another group of stories called the PPC, or Protectors of the Plot Continuum. Agents from the PPC, somewhat similarly to your IDIC teams, visit fictional universes to maintain the status quo. They do this by removing bad fanfic and the fic's characters from the stories by killing them. Just wondering if you might be interested in representatives from each group bumping into each other somehow, as your IDIC apparently covers all fictional universes.

Here's a link: http://ppc.wikia.com/wiki/PPC_Wiki

:Interesting setting. (Though as I just added) IDIC wasn't originally my idea (not that a Multiverse setting is all that original). It's origins are on the TSA; I'm just taking my own take on it and spinning it.

:The meta setting is still gelling for me as I write my own stories (specifically what the Tangle is and how it relates to everything) but the setting in general is wide open for anyone to write in and do what they want. If there are conflicts it's always easy to just handwave them as different actions in similar universes/multiverses. :)

Hmm...are there any informational links for the setting?

:Not really, since it's a meta setting really, as in literally anything goes. If something happens that you don't like that someone else wrote, feel free to ignore it. (Though I would generally try to be consistant with my own stuff. :)

:I'm on IRC all the time if you want to talk more or find out my thoughts on what the Tangle is and what my crew/little corner is about.

*NOTE: Copied the discussion over to [[Category_talk:IDIC]]. Probably best to continue it over there. :)
--[[User:Jetfire|Jetfire]] 09:21, 19 January 2009 (EST)

== Request... ==

Um, hi, I'm Drake, and I hope you could let me use your character AT in my story (Paradise setting)...If permitted, he/she is going to be the one that Jon (main character) consults after first change...and I can send you a copy of the story first. I also hope you can read through the story when I'm done (it'll be some time from now; I'm a slow writer) and let me know what you think. Thanks a lot :) I could only contact you via your talk page as there was no "Send message" link to use...sorry that I took up a new section. -- [[User: WolfyDrake95| Drake]]
02 April 2009, 19:50 (+0800 GMT)

Sure, just let me take a gander at it when it's done/near done and we can make sure things work out fine, but I don't see why not.
--[[User:Jetfire|Jetfire]] 00:09, 3 April 2009 (UTC)

Thanks for trusting me! It'll take some time though: I still have homework and projects left over, so it won't be done in a hurry. Still, I'll work as fast as I can. I'll try to speed it up a little. -- [[User: WolfyDrake95| Drake]] 04 April 2009 15:10 (+0800 GMT)

Hey Jetfire, I'm almost done with the story. I'm working on the last edits, improving a little here and there but it should be ready in one or two days. You can take a gander now. Or even ''two'' ganders. Okay, so I don't know what a gander is. But I hope you could help me check through my story, for inconsistencies with AT's character or the timeline in general, and stuff like that, and also give a critical review. Could you provide me your email address to send the Microsoft Word document to? I don't really want to post it on Shifti yet until the editing is 100% complete. Once again, thanks for kicking me into action, and offering to check my story! :)
-- [[User: WolfyDrake95| Drake]] 20 April 2009 22:17, (+0800 GMT)

Umm...Reply soon? Thanks! --[[User: WolfyDrake95| Drake]] 27 April 2009 22:17, (+0800 GMT)

ok guess you can send it to taeolas@yahoo.com that should work.

Got it. I'm editing a large part again...it might take a little longer. Expect an email from "Johnathan Wong" at "drake_halounity@hotmail.com" ----[[User: WolfyDrake95| Drake]] 1 May 2009 21:22

All right, sent the story to the above email address. Hope it's correct...actually I'm not sure if that even ''is'' you, 'cos you didn't sign off after naming your email. Just checkin', hope I didn't send to the wrong one. Thanks once again for helping me out! -- [[User: WolfyDrake95| Drake]] 5 May 2009 15:52

:According to the logs it was Jetfire that posted that e-mail address. -- [[User:ShadowWolf|ShadowWolf]] 02:38, 6 May 2009 (UTC)

::Wow, I didn't know ShadowWolf was watching this convo...unnerving. O.o Anyway, I finally posted the final version of my silly story on Shifti. Thanks a lot for critiquing it (and bearing with me)! --[[User:WolfyDrake95|Drake]] 14 May 2009, 22:17

==Just a complement==

I just wanted to drop a line to let you know I really liked your Veil series. I haven't finished it yet but I am enjoying it so far. Usually stories that feature the characters changing into some type of anthro animal are kinda shallow. I liked yours because you actually thought of details like how their diet changes, how interactions change and to what degree their instincts change. Good job I'll make sure to keep posted.

== Trying to contact you ==
So I'm trying to get ahold of you for my XCom project and can't find where your E-mail address is, nor do I often surf the IRCs. Ergo, I'm hoping you're "Watching" this page and will get back to me. --[[User:Doomreaver|Doomreaver]] ([[User talk:Doomreaver|talk]]) 19:33, 16 June 2014 (CDT)

== What Will Arka's Future Hold? ==
Hey, Jetfire; I was wondering what plans you had in mind for the future that lies ahead for Arka, one of the EIDE characters from your story '[[User:Jetfire/The Touch|The Touch]].' About seven eighths of the way through that story, you mention that the EIDE in question would like to become either a mammalian RIDE of some kind or a griffin RIDE. It turns out that I'm actually working on a [http://morfs.nowhere2go.org/ MORFS]/[[FreeRIDErs (setting)|''FreeRIDErs'']] cross-over story. Even though this may not seem to be connected to your efforts at all (at least at first,) it turns out that I need somebody similar to the main character whom I'm going to have come in from the [http://morfs.nowhere2go.org/ 'MORFS'] universe. The reason for this is that I need somebody to reside in the [[FreeRIDErs (setting)|''FreeRIDErs'' universe]] so that my character from the [http://morfs.nowhere2go.org/ 'MORFS'] universe can use her as a reference point with which to calibrate her subspace senses in preparation for a jump that will incidentally land my character from the [http://morfs.nowhere2go.org/ MORFS] universe next to this character in the [[FreeRIDErs (setting)|''FreeRIDErs'' universe]]. I currently think that my character from the [http://morfs.nowhere2go.org/ 'MORFS'] universe will be a hominin/avian/feline/lupine/vulpine hybrid with the ability to access, interpret, manipulate, and travel through subspace as it exists in both her own universe and throughout the multiverse. 
     I could create somebody like that in the [[FreeRIDErs (setting)|''FreeRIDErs'' universe]] with whom she could make contact after making her subspace jump and landing next to her, but I'm relatively inexperienced at writing and was wondering whether I could start getting to know how to do it by helping somebody else with something on which they're already working. The best I'm hoping for is to maybe be a bit of a proofreader and idea sounding-board, but you can involve me some more if you want. I even have some more ideas if you want to use them; for instance, I know that Yuri and Skyfire, also from your story '[[User:Jetfire/The Touch|The Touch]],' are thinking about joining the Gondwanan Federated Marshals and that Arka has expressed possible interest in following in their footsteps after she becomes a RIDE. I've also noticed that at least ''one'' of the Marshals will, due to the outcome of your story '[[User:Jetfire/Spies Among Us|Spies Among Us]],' have to undertake a mission to the Sol system in order to deliver some means of communicating with the Marshals back on Zharus to Ryan, Helena, and Spot. Since pre-constructed DINcoms like the one which these latter three individuals tried to bring with them on their way from Zharus to Mars in order to stay in touch with their superiors back at the Marshals' headquarters would be unlikely to survive a trip through subspace at ''all'', then a mission to reconnect these agents with their superiors would probably have to transport to then the ''means'' of ''constructing'' one. 
     The problem with this idea is that I'm not sure if [[User:Robotech Master|Robotech Master]] and [[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]] might be willing to make someone in the [[FreeRIDErs (setting)|''FreeRIDErs'' universe]] (likely Rhianna Stonegate since she invented the DINcom in the first place) create a version of that device that can be paired with another one after it has been fabricated. As for the mission itself, could Arka possibly be part of it? And if she were to take part in it, then would she have found a human partner to bring along on the mission with her before it started? If Arka had a human partner, then this human partner could easily serve as a target for my cross-over character's subspace jump since the ship on which Arka would be traveling if she were to take part in reconnecting Ryan, Helena, and Spot to the Marshals would bring her and her human partner close enough to Earth for my character from the [http://morfs.nowhere2go.org/ 'MORFS'] universe to make a jump to it. My current thoughts on why she would consider executing such an impossible jump is that she might ''have'' to teleport out of range of teleportation-capable members of a group of people who want her to use her powers to their advantage chasing her around in her own universe in order to escape their pursuit of her. I know that this would interrupt the mission in which Arka might take part, but maybe this could be an alternate ending or something? 
— [[User:RandomDSdevel|RandomDSdevel]] ([[User talk:RandomDSdevel|talk]]) Originally posted at 2:44 PM EDY on October 30th, 2014. Last updated at 3:19 PM EST on January 29th, 2015. 
P. S.: By the way, how's [[User:Jetfire/The Power|'The Power']] coming along? I'm looking forward to reading it!
:If you're still interested, I've come up with [[User:RandomDSdevel/Sandbox/Works in Progress/Documentation/Carter Hawkinson|a human partner for Arka]]. I haven't really gotten that deep into developing him as a character yet, but I currently envision him as someone who gets reconstructed from a copy of his genome and a complete map of his brain and has to adjust to waking up about five hundred years after historical records say he died of complications resulting from some kind of [[en:Wikipedia:Motor neuron disease|motor neuron disease]]. That might make for some interesting dialog, don't you think?
:— [[User:RandomDSdevel|RandomDSdevel]] ([[User talk:RandomDSdevel|talk]]) 20:06, 27 February 2015 (EST)

== Paradigm Shift category and Setting ==

Jetfire,

Thank you for writing the Paradigm Shift stories.
I added Category:Stories_by_setting to Category:Paradigm_Shift, and created [[Paradigm Shift (Setting)]] page.
As soon as feasible, please correct/review the Setting description for accuracy, and remove the non-canon warning.

Hopefully helpful,
--[[User:Lem|Lem]] 28 December 2024, 18:24

User talk:Jetfire

2024-12-29T23:08:22Z

Lem: /* Paradigm Shift category and Setting */ new section

== Post Previously in Page Heading ==

Hi, just thought I should drop a note here since I imagine most authors won't be regularly checking [[Help:Templates]] for updates. I've finally added a template that I should have created long ago, a tag to put on userpages to facilitate linking to your personal story category; [[Template:My stories]]. If you want, just stick this code at the top of your userpage to create a standardized little box with a direct link in it: <nowiki>{{my stories}}</nowiki>. [[User:Bryan|Bryan]] 22:25, 18 January 2008 (EST)

== Paradise Categories ==

I just wanted to let you know that your Veil stories should have the Paradise Category as well. The Veil is actually a ''subcategory'' of Paradise. In addition, all stories get the Story category so they show up on the All Stories page. Thanks. --[[User:JonBuck|Buck]] 14:50, 24 January 2008 (EST)

==IDIC Meeting?==

I came across your stories on the IDIC while searching for multiverse based fictional organizations, and wondered if you might be interested in a meeting with Agents from another group of stories called the PPC, or Protectors of the Plot Continuum. Agents from the PPC, somewhat similarly to your IDIC teams, visit fictional universes to maintain the status quo. They do this by removing bad fanfic and the fic's characters from the stories by killing them. Just wondering if you might be interested in representatives from each group bumping into each other somehow, as your IDIC apparently covers all fictional universes.

Here's a link: http://ppc.wikia.com/wiki/PPC_Wiki

:Interesting setting. (Though as I just added) IDIC wasn't originally my idea (not that a Multiverse setting is all that original). It's origins are on the TSA; I'm just taking my own take on it and spinning it.

:The meta setting is still gelling for me as I write my own stories (specifically what the Tangle is and how it relates to everything) but the setting in general is wide open for anyone to write in and do what they want. If there are conflicts it's always easy to just handwave them as different actions in similar universes/multiverses. :)

Hmm...are there any informational links for the setting?

:Not really, since it's a meta setting really, as in literally anything goes. If something happens that you don't like that someone else wrote, feel free to ignore it. (Though I would generally try to be consistant with my own stuff. :)

:I'm on IRC all the time if you want to talk more or find out my thoughts on what the Tangle is and what my crew/little corner is about.

*NOTE: Copied the discussion over to [[Category_talk:IDIC]]. Probably best to continue it over there. :)
--[[User:Jetfire|Jetfire]] 09:21, 19 January 2009 (EST)

== Request... ==

Um, hi, I'm Drake, and I hope you could let me use your character AT in my story (Paradise setting)...If permitted, he/she is going to be the one that Jon (main character) consults after first change...and I can send you a copy of the story first. I also hope you can read through the story when I'm done (it'll be some time from now; I'm a slow writer) and let me know what you think. Thanks a lot :) I could only contact you via your talk page as there was no "Send message" link to use...sorry that I took up a new section. -- [[User: WolfyDrake95| Drake]]
02 April 2009, 19:50 (+0800 GMT)

Sure, just let me take a gander at it when it's done/near done and we can make sure things work out fine, but I don't see why not.
--[[User:Jetfire|Jetfire]] 00:09, 3 April 2009 (UTC)

Thanks for trusting me! It'll take some time though: I still have homework and projects left over, so it won't be done in a hurry. Still, I'll work as fast as I can. I'll try to speed it up a little. -- [[User: WolfyDrake95| Drake]] 04 April 2009 15:10 (+0800 GMT)

Hey Jetfire, I'm almost done with the story. I'm working on the last edits, improving a little here and there but it should be ready in one or two days. You can take a gander now. Or even ''two'' ganders. Okay, so I don't know what a gander is. But I hope you could help me check through my story, for inconsistencies with AT's character or the timeline in general, and stuff like that, and also give a critical review. Could you provide me your email address to send the Microsoft Word document to? I don't really want to post it on Shifti yet until the editing is 100% complete. Once again, thanks for kicking me into action, and offering to check my story! :)
-- [[User: WolfyDrake95| Drake]] 20 April 2009 22:17, (+0800 GMT)

Umm...Reply soon? Thanks! --[[User: WolfyDrake95| Drake]] 27 April 2009 22:17, (+0800 GMT)

ok guess you can send it to taeolas@yahoo.com that should work.

Got it. I'm editing a large part again...it might take a little longer. Expect an email from "Johnathan Wong" at "drake_halounity@hotmail.com" ----[[User: WolfyDrake95| Drake]] 1 May 2009 21:22

All right, sent the story to the above email address. Hope it's correct...actually I'm not sure if that even ''is'' you, 'cos you didn't sign off after naming your email. Just checkin', hope I didn't send to the wrong one. Thanks once again for helping me out! -- [[User: WolfyDrake95| Drake]] 5 May 2009 15:52

:According to the logs it was Jetfire that posted that e-mail address. -- [[User:ShadowWolf|ShadowWolf]] 02:38, 6 May 2009 (UTC)

::Wow, I didn't know ShadowWolf was watching this convo...unnerving. O.o Anyway, I finally posted the final version of my silly story on Shifti. Thanks a lot for critiquing it (and bearing with me)! --[[User:WolfyDrake95|Drake]] 14 May 2009, 22:17

==Just a complement==

I just wanted to drop a line to let you know I really liked your Veil series. I haven't finished it yet but I am enjoying it so far. Usually stories that feature the characters changing into some type of anthro animal are kinda shallow. I liked yours because you actually thought of details like how their diet changes, how interactions change and to what degree their instincts change. Good job I'll make sure to keep posted.

== Trying to contact you ==
So I'm trying to get ahold of you for my XCom project and can't find where your E-mail address is, nor do I often surf the IRCs. Ergo, I'm hoping you're "Watching" this page and will get back to me. --[[User:Doomreaver|Doomreaver]] ([[User talk:Doomreaver|talk]]) 19:33, 16 June 2014 (CDT)

== What Will Arka's Future Hold? ==
Hey, Jetfire; I was wondering what plans you had in mind for the future that lies ahead for Arka, one of the EIDE characters from your story '[[User:Jetfire/The Touch|The Touch]].' About seven eighths of the way through that story, you mention that the EIDE in question would like to become either a mammalian RIDE of some kind or a griffin RIDE. It turns out that I'm actually working on a [http://morfs.nowhere2go.org/ MORFS]/[[FreeRIDErs (setting)|''FreeRIDErs'']] cross-over story. Even though this may not seem to be connected to your efforts at all (at least at first,) it turns out that I need somebody similar to the main character whom I'm going to have come in from the [http://morfs.nowhere2go.org/ 'MORFS'] universe. The reason for this is that I need somebody to reside in the [[FreeRIDErs (setting)|''FreeRIDErs'' universe]] so that my character from the [http://morfs.nowhere2go.org/ 'MORFS'] universe can use her as a reference point with which to calibrate her subspace senses in preparation for a jump that will incidentally land my character from the [http://morfs.nowhere2go.org/ MORFS] universe next to this character in the [[FreeRIDErs (setting)|''FreeRIDErs'' universe]]. I currently think that my character from the [http://morfs.nowhere2go.org/ 'MORFS'] universe will be a hominin/avian/feline/lupine/vulpine hybrid with the ability to access, interpret, manipulate, and travel through subspace as it exists in both her own universe and throughout the multiverse. 
     I could create somebody like that in the [[FreeRIDErs (setting)|''FreeRIDErs'' universe]] with whom she could make contact after making her subspace jump and landing next to her, but I'm relatively inexperienced at writing and was wondering whether I could start getting to know how to do it by helping somebody else with something on which they're already working. The best I'm hoping for is to maybe be a bit of a proofreader and idea sounding-board, but you can involve me some more if you want. I even have some more ideas if you want to use them; for instance, I know that Yuri and Skyfire, also from your story '[[User:Jetfire/The Touch|The Touch]],' are thinking about joining the Gondwanan Federated Marshals and that Arka has expressed possible interest in following in their footsteps after she becomes a RIDE. I've also noticed that at least ''one'' of the Marshals will, due to the outcome of your story '[[User:Jetfire/Spies Among Us|Spies Among Us]],' have to undertake a mission to the Sol system in order to deliver some means of communicating with the Marshals back on Zharus to Ryan, Helena, and Spot. Since pre-constructed DINcoms like the one which these latter three individuals tried to bring with them on their way from Zharus to Mars in order to stay in touch with their superiors back at the Marshals' headquarters would be unlikely to survive a trip through subspace at ''all'', then a mission to reconnect these agents with their superiors would probably have to transport to then the ''means'' of ''constructing'' one. 
     The problem with this idea is that I'm not sure if [[User:Robotech Master|Robotech Master]] and [[User:JonBuck|JonBuck]] might be willing to make someone in the [[FreeRIDErs (setting)|''FreeRIDErs'' universe]] (likely Rhianna Stonegate since she invented the DINcom in the first place) create a version of that device that can be paired with another one after it has been fabricated. As for the mission itself, could Arka possibly be part of it? And if she were to take part in it, then would she have found a human partner to bring along on the mission with her before it started? If Arka had a human partner, then this human partner could easily serve as a target for my cross-over character's subspace jump since the ship on which Arka would be traveling if she were to take part in reconnecting Ryan, Helena, and Spot to the Marshals would bring her and her human partner close enough to Earth for my character from the [http://morfs.nowhere2go.org/ 'MORFS'] universe to make a jump to it. My current thoughts on why she would consider executing such an impossible jump is that she might ''have'' to teleport out of range of teleportation-capable members of a group of people who want her to use her powers to their advantage chasing her around in her own universe in order to escape their pursuit of her. I know that this would interrupt the mission in which Arka might take part, but maybe this could be an alternate ending or something? 
— [[User:RandomDSdevel|RandomDSdevel]] ([[User talk:RandomDSdevel|talk]]) Originally posted at 2:44 PM EDY on October 30th, 2014. Last updated at 3:19 PM EST on January 29th, 2015. 
P. S.: By the way, how's [[User:Jetfire/The Power|'The Power']] coming along? I'm looking forward to reading it!
:If you're still interested, I've come up with [[User:RandomDSdevel/Sandbox/Works in Progress/Documentation/Carter Hawkinson|a human partner for Arka]]. I haven't really gotten that deep into developing him as a character yet, but I currently envision him as someone who gets reconstructed from a copy of his genome and a complete map of his brain and has to adjust to waking up about five hundred years after historical records say he died of complications resulting from some kind of [[en:Wikipedia:Motor neuron disease|motor neuron disease]]. That might make for some interesting dialog, don't you think?
:— [[User:RandomDSdevel|RandomDSdevel]] ([[User talk:RandomDSdevel|talk]]) 20:06, 27 February 2015 (EST)

== Paradigm Shift category and Setting ==

Jetfire,

Thank you for writing the Paradigm Shift stories.
I added [[Category:Stories by Setting]] to [[Category:Paradigm Shift]], and created [[Paradigm Shift (Setting)]] page.
As soon as feasible, please correct/review the Setting description for accuracy, and remove the non-canon warning.

Hopefully helpful,
[[User_talk:Lem|Lem]]

Paradigm Shift (Setting)

2024-12-29T22:52:48Z

Lem: Created description or Paradigm Shift setting.

{{Universe|Paradigm Shift}}

The original story is by [[User:Jetfire]] who has not reviewed and corrected this description as of 2024.12.28 .
So this description is not canon.

[[User:Jetfire/Big Sky Country|Original Story]]

=={{separator|f|Basics}}==
Beginning about 10a on Saturday, September 23, 2023, within about one hundred kilometers (60 miles) of where Montana,
Alberta and Saskatchewan meet, a '''Change Event''' occurred.
Over the next 24 hours, the event changed nearly all residents and visitors into hermaphroditic cat-bird griffins.

=={{separator|f|Stories in Chronological Order}}==

Authors may add links to their stories as they happen in chronological order in story time.
For a complete listing of all Paradigm Shift stories, see [[:Category:Paradigm Shift|the Paradigm Shift Category]].

'''2023'''
*[[User:Jetfire/School_Daze_Day_1|School Daze Day 1]] Spruce Coulee Camp ''2023.09.22-2023.09.23'' ''([[User:Jetfire|Jetfire]])''
*[[User:Jetfire/School_Daze_Day_2|School Daze Day 2]] Spruce Coulee Camp ''2023.09.24'' ''([[User:Jetfire|Jetfire]])''
*[[User:Jetfire/School_Daze_Day_3|School Daze Day 3]] Spruce Coulee Camp ''2023.09.25'' ''([[User:Jetfire|Jetfire]])''

*[[User:Jetfire/Big_Sky_Country|Big Sky Country]] Skyfire ''2023.09.23-2023.11.09'' ''([[User:Jetfire|Jetfire]])''
*[[User:Jetfire/A_Fire_in_the_Sky_Book2|A Fire in the Sky Book2]] Skyfire ''2023.11.11-2023.12.28'' ''((User:Jetfire|Jetfire]])''

'''2024'''
*[[User:Jetfire/Stormy_Skies|Stormy Skies]] Danica ''2024.01'' ''((User:Jetfire|Jetfire]]

Category:Paradigm Shift

2024-12-29T21:39:16Z

Lem: Add Paradigm Shift setting to Category:Stories by setting

[[Category:Stories by setting]]

Not Quite Furry

2024-04-10T04:41:59Z

Lem: Corrected ~6/100 missed or incorrect grammar and spelling errors.

{{Critique requested}}Jacob walked into the bathroom breathing hard.

He brought costumed paws to over-sized plastic eyes and leaned back against the sink. The paws sank, lingering on the sides of his muzzle, before they came down to his coat. He straightened out the baggy cloth, riddled with pockets and brass buttons, briefly took out a large novelty pocketwatch to check the time, and then patted down the chest fur that stuck out his unbuttoned front. Only then did he peak a look at the mirror behind him. He didn't have to flash a smile, it was already displayed in muzzle and foam teeth on the mask. The goggles, just big enough to cover the costume's eyes, were still there.

David thought he might have lost them busting some moves in the lobby. What could he say, he was a sucker for an audience. Especially an audience of geek females. Must have been the glasses. And perhaps the offer of a cookie (which had been nicely placed through the mouth of his costume, complete with nomming sounds).

His breathing slowed. He rubbed at the fur at his neck, trying to relieve the itchiness of wayward velcro.

The sound of a stall opening interrupted him. Followed by a question. "So, what are you supposed to be?"

Jacob rolled his eyes under the facade. His friends had suggested he'd go as the Tenth Doctor, there wouldn't be as many questions, they said. He turned and saluted to the figure, only noticing in mid-motion that it was another fellow in full animal costume, russet furred fox and with the many tails, kitsune, outfitted in leather vest and bowler cap. A dash more realistic design than his own, yet still processing a dynamic flair. Jacob hadn't seen any other fellows of the fuzzy sort during this con, but it being just a small general sci-fi / fantasy con, he hadn't expected to.

"Are you one of those that doesn't speak?" the kitsune form asked.

"Ah, no, sorry. Didn't know anyone was in here. Just taking a breather. I usually reserve speaking for outside this room of porcelain thrones."

"I can jive with that," the kitsune said, turning on the faucet, "Not exactly the most enlightening of spots in human society, especially those frequented in public locations. Not many places make my nose wrinkle more, but they serve their purpose."

Only when the sink had turned off did it occur to Jacob he wasn't certain if the kitsune had removed his paw gloves before washing. By then, the kitsune was already heading to the door. Jacob took one final look in the mirror, to be certain his head was straight, and followed.

"So, what are you?" the kitsune repeated, as they headed across the tiled lobby, beyond through a pair of double doors, into the madness known as a science fiction / fantasy convention. A world filled with foam swords, fake pointy ears, horns, leather, and enough high-level Red-Bull-fueled geekness that would knock a Dementor a into a coma.

It was a dynamic quite unlike any other.

"Steampunk ferret, Regi Tesla, created in an alternate timeline where the development of genetics took a more mad science route, the same time steam became the primary power source. Not completely ferret, a few other weasel species thrown in, have an otter tail, golden chest fur and ears of a marten, and fringed with bright blue markings on the edges, as you can see. And, a blue tongue, just for fun."

"Wow. What prompted all that?"

"Boredom. Mostly. That, and when you be dealing with fantasy and sci-fi, much more fun to dance on the outskirts than sit on the mainstream. What better way than to mix together fringe science and anthropomorphic creatures? What is your backstory?"

The kitsune shrugged. "Kitsune trickster wandering time and space messing with whatever unwitting victims he happens to meet."

"I believe you've come to the epicenter of 'unwitting victims' my friend."

"Perhaps."

"I like it. Straight to the point. Simple to explain. And nice bowler cap, by the way."

"Nice goggles."

"Thank ye."

"So, what exactly takes place here?"

"First con?"

The kitsune looked like he was chewing his lip. Jacob brushed this off as a trick of a nearby stobelight. "Yes, you could say that."

"Mine too. The basics are thus: geeks gather together to discuss, buy, and play about geeky things. There's discussion panels, gaming rooms, a theater (mostly filled with bad anime), and, of course, the dealer's den, where merchandise calls its siren's song to con-goers. Just a matter of poking thing and seeing what you like best."

"Not many ferrets around."

"Alas, not enough people are as cool as me. Only I dare to be fuzzy among this geekiness. I don't have the guts to go to a con with primarily fuzzy creatures. Ah, the furries."

"Come again."

"Furry. I use the term 'anthropomorphic creatures' myself. Seems to give it a more literary edge. Still, can't go about wearing a ferret costume for long without the word popping up. Heck, I put a few months of trying to get this costume just right. Who else but a crazy person would go through the trouble, and the needle stabbing, involved in sewing just to sweat it out in a furry costume, hot and uncomfortable, barely able to see through these blasted eyeholes and...? I'm babbling. Point is, perhaps I'm a little insane."

"No, of course you're not."

"Posh. Everyone has levels of insanity. Mine is the fact I dress like a ferret hybrid because it feels like no one can see me, I can be someone else because everyone expects someone else, they do not see me, they see Regi."

"I disagree."

"Mmm?"

"Isn't it more along the lines of when you wear that suit, you are free to act as yourself?"

Jacob screwed his face into an odd expression, which he was glad the kitsune couldn't see. Now that seemed a little too odd to him. It was one thing to wear the costume, it was another to suppose the costume was him. He decided this fellow was one of those spiritual furries and suddenly he felt as if he'd been pulled somewhere where he didn't want to go. All there was to do now was to figure out an excuse to get out of this potentially awkward situation.

"I just do this for the fun of it."

The kitsune nodded, looking down at the floor with a reflective look. How did his mask do that? Jacob decided this was the time to make his escape. "So, a panel I wanted to go to is coming up so...I best be going."

The kitsune's ears perked. Literally perked. Jacob was becoming more and more wary. Why had he been saying all that stuff to this stranger. He didn't even know his name. He needed to go. But... He put up a paw. "Paw bump?"

The kitsune stared.

"You know. Like a fist bump. Except with paws. Just use your paw and bump mine. The least I can do." Weird or not, Jacob couldn't resist doing this action to anyone he met. The kitsune carefully clenched his digits and tapped Jacob's paw with his own. An odd surge, like a string of static electricity, spread through the fabric, through Jacob's hand. He kept from letting loose a startled squeak and saluted with his other hand. "Nice to meet you, dude. Enjoy the con!"

He backed away a few steps before turning tail, slithering through the crowd. Very strange chap, Jacob thought. All people here danced on a very thin line, between normal fans and crazed fanboys. Jacob liked to think of him on the sensible side, despite the ferret suit. His hand still tingled.

The rest of the Friday evening went without fanfare. The Dragon Slaying panel turned out to be less on-fire than Jacob would have hoped, and the Werewolf panel lacked bite, but the Totally Non-Sparkly Vampires panel didn't suck as much as expected either (the Vampire-in-the-Box had been a nice touch), so it all evened out. Soon, Jacob forgot about the kitsune, his focus being drawn to Doctor Who replicas in the dealer den and marathon of bad movies complete with humorous commentary.

He parried questions about his suit with what he hoped was an infectious flair, throwing some in-character comments from time to time (usually doing brief interludes on whatever devices or 'shinies' con-goers had on their person). Soon he started growing the character on the fly, making him a mechanic or engineer, always prone to seeing how stuff worked, obsessed with gears. He would need to write some of this down when he got back to the room.

Throughout the evening, the numbness remained in his arm, starting to spread outwards, radiating over him, inch by inch. He pressed this to the back of his mind.

Late, in the motel bar, Jacob found it impressive how many free drinks he could get just because people wanted to see him swig through the mouth of his costume.

O O O

"Regi?"

Through the haze, he felt himself being pulled up.

"Regi? I never caught your real name earlier."

Bright lights and shadows surrounded him and blurred as he tried to focus. He stumbled. Something gripped him, keeping him upright. He felt obliged to slump on this something. He noted russet tails waving behind his something. An arm wrapped around his middle and led him forward, onward. Still in the bar. Voices, laughs, how much had he drank? The voice trickled into his mind again.

"You appear to have drank a lot. That can't be good for your changing metabolism."

Jacob didn't trust himself to speak, so he gave a muzzy smile at the kitsune.

"Can you feel this?"

Something poked his nose. Strange feel. Odd. Just didn't, then there was a rub at the back of his neck, a pinch and suddenly his entire body went slack.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, forgot about that ferret reflex. Up we go."

Somehow, Jacob kept upright. He noticed vague details. The hall. The elevator. His tail twitching. Odd. He nuzzled the kitsune. Though he didn't normally do that in suit, just sorta happened. The kitsune pushed him back, chuckling.

"No, you just need rest. Glad I took a swing back to see how you were doing. Now, ah, judging from your key card, this is your room. This is where I'll drop you off." He pressed the door open and the key into one of Jacob's jacket pockets. They got into the room. Jacob felt himself fall onto the bed. He clutched at the comforter and sheets, pulling them to his body. He made a little dooking noise.

"Now, when you wake up, you're gonna feel much better, Regi."

The world faded away.

O O O

Jacob opened one eye, the sunlight blinding it immediately. He turned over and slumped off the bed with a soft thump. His head burned. He licked his muzzle. The sticky taste of alcohol tinged the fur. His breath stank. His vision swam when he tried to push himself up.

The full definition of the word "hangover" wandered crookedly through his mind.

He saw paws blurrily. Still in costume? Figures. Still, it appeared he was in his room at the least. Small blessings. The premise of coffee wandered by. His whiskers twitched and he started moving towards this idea.

He stumbled on all four paws out of the bed sheets before snuffling about for his clothes. He found his jacket behind a chair, his bandana under the bed, his leather tote bag in the shower. While there, he took the time to splash water on his face. He smoothed the fur about his eyes, blue tongue licking a stain of something on his nose. Jacob got to his hind paws, cracking the vertebrate of his back, stretching it this way and that, getting himself limber, finding the right balance point by getting his thick tail into position. He shook himself, patted his left jacket pocket for the hotel keycard, and headed into the hall.

Jacob played off the people along the journey from room to the breakfast room. Giving sleepy waves, high fours, and goofy faces to the younger ones. He felt much better by the time sat down to lap at his coffee. There was a little trouble to be had with the chair though. He couldn't quite get his tail to cooperate, so he had to settle with sitting on the chair sideways, so the tail could be unfettered.

He nodded politely to the variation of "great costume" that were tossed his way. He hoped they couldn't smell the beer on his fur.

Halfway through his cup of coffee the gleam of a shiny object in the breakfast nook caught his eye. Before he could stop himself, he had scampered to the shiny, and was examining it, turning it all ways in his paws. Feeling the smooth edges, claws picking at the coils within. He pulled a screwdriver out of his tote. He unplugged the device, for safety. Soon, coils and wires spilled out the bottom. A few persons came by, bread in hand, opened their mouths, then ended up just watching the progress. Jacob smiled. He loved an audience.

Then someone cleared their throat in a displeased way. Regi didn't like that sound. Made his tail twitch. Jacob looked up, to see a mustached man with hotel employee tag on his jacket.

"Excuse me, sir. What are you doing with that toaster?"

"Fixing it."

"Sir. That is property of the hotel. If it was broken, you should have told us and..."

"Oh, of course it /worked/. Just wasn't working to its full potential."

The hotel employee's brows furrowed. The other hotel patrons quirked theirs.

Jacob carefully closed up the toaster and plugged it in. "Let me show you. You see, this device was not using the energy it was using to its full potential to heat the coils and toast the bread." Jacob took a piece of bread from one of the audience and placed it in the toaster. He pushed the lever down with one claw. The toaster blazed with light for no more than a second, before the toast popped back up. The audience gasped. The bread had been toasted to the most perfect shade of brown.

"See, reduces the time and completely streamlines the process. You'd think that a society with an advanced paw on manipulating energy would be more adept at taking advantage of these sorts of things. Now about your waffle maker, I think..." Jacob caught sight of something in the toaster. He picked it up again. He looked closer. He saw a reflection. He saw a face. A face of a ferret, a dark mask around its eyes fringed with a line of bright blue fur, maw gapping, showing a blue tongue, this surrounded by muzzle, complete with twitching whiskers.

And suddenly the string of events, from first opening his eye to looking into this toaster lost their alcoholic haze. From nose to tail, he felt everything. He did not have a limited view through two eye holes for those eye holes were where his eyes were, now looking cross-eyed at his own muzzle, at his paws holding the toaster, down at his golden furred chest.

Jacob placed the toaster down. "I'll get to the waffle maker later."

The hotel employee, still staring at shock at the toaster, did not react. He gave a few more high fours and salutes as he snuck out of the group of people.

In a blur, he got back to the elevator, up to his floor, back into his room, back into the bed, and promptly gave a series of panicked chitters into a pillow.

In a corner, hugging a pillow, Jacob tried to rationalize his situation.

With little success.

He slowly brought up his right paw up again. He looked at the pink paw pads against sable fur, the claw on the end of each digit. He followed the sable fur down the arm, interrupted by a ring of bright blue fur, before turning to the milk chocolate shade of his hide. Jacob gripped the arm with his left paw, feeling his pulse under the fur, running at an alarming rate.

"I'm perfectly fine. Nothing to worry about. Absolutely fine. There is nothing to worry about. Just need to take a few more deep breaths and then everything will be normal. I will take off this mask and just spend the rest of the con splurging in the dealer's den. Perhaps get a few shiny items..."

His voice tapered off, realizing his vocalized assurances were not helping much. He breathed deeply. Once. Twice. Three times. He brought his paws, no, hands up to his neck, feeling for the Velcro strap. He felt deeper. He started scrabbling at his neck, as if being strangled, gasping for air, feeling desperately through the fur, trying to capture the zipper. It had to be there, it had to...

"Ow!" he squeaked. He felt his chin and brought back the paw. A slight dash of red had sprinkled the pad. He had nicked himself with a claw.

"What? You have got to be kidding me! WHAT IN THE-" His jaws took hold of the pillow and ripped, sending feathers into the air, flashing in Jacob's mind, fueling the rage, he leapt at the feathers, diving, crashing against a chair, twisting his body, diving again, hitting the drawers, the tv rocked, he stabilized it with his tail. He carried on half conscious as he pounced onto the bed, claws and jaws ripping into the bed sheets, mind flashing, words lost to squeaks and dooking noises. This blurred motion of pouncing, bouncy, feral actions continued, until he became tangled in the comforter, which brought his swooping rampage to a halt. Still tangled, he rolled off the bed onto the carpet, huffing breaths, whiskers still twitching. He sniffed to note the odd smell in the air. He sent a baleful glance down at his lower half, tail still wagging, and wondered briefly if he had glands that had went off.

He was a weasel after all.

No, ferret hybrid thing. Even if that might have been a weasel war dance...

No, he wouldn't accept that. There was something he had done. Something that someone else had done. As he released himself from the comforter's comforting confinement, he wracked his memories. Last night. The haze. The hangover still nibbing at the edges. The bar. The drinks. The burning throat. The stickiness of the floor. The kitsune. He squinted at that. The kitsune? That spiritual furry? He'd seen him again. Hadn't he? Assuring words. He'd brought him to his room. What had he said? Suddenly, all those tail and ear twitches, the expression managed by the vulpine muzzle, the odd knowing gold tinge in the eyes, clarified.

You'll feel much better in the morning.

He dooked at the realization.

He found the half-emptied pillow amidst the feathers and clutched it again, giving the surroundings a wary look.

"OK. I get it. Nice trick. Very funny. You can come out now."

No response.

"Yeah, I had some life lesson. Come on. You can turn me back now. I'll not...do, whatever I was supposed to be not doing now. That's it, right? Needed to learn a lesson? Yeah?"

Nothing.

Jacob's ears drooped. What was he doing? Just speaking to the air. Not like anyone would respond from the ether.

His ears perked, hoping perhaps this expectation of nothing to happen would cause something to happen.

Nothing did.

Everything about him drooped now. He nibbled at the pillow, noting a flavor to the feathers. Goose down. Fancy. Dang How had he gotten into this? He had turned into his costume. Not turned into his costume to the point he had fabric hide and plastic eyes, but to the point he had become what his costume had only attempted to represent. He was flesh and blood, right down to biological levels and he didn't even want to consider what that fully entailed.

He dooked, a sad tone to the sound. Still a little cute sounding too, he had to admit.

O O O

"Hellooooo, Beeeeecca."

"Jake?"

"Yes. How are you doing?"

"Find. How's fursuitting?"

Jacob placed a paw over his eyes. "Don't use that word."

"Oh. How does the convention go...in that fursuit?"

"Must you torture me so."

"I'm your friend, its in the job description."

"We need to negotiate that contract. Dare I go into the argument that its a costume that happens to be an animal?"

"Heard it before. Argument needs work."

Jacob noticed he was a wrapping the cord of the hotel phone around a claw, bringing him back to quote-unquote reality.

"That's why I called you."

"To come up with a better argument? How about not wearing that odd thing. Looks cute and all but do you really need to deal with the context?"

"Context. Yeah. Heh. You see. Funny thing..."

"You didn't have a fling, did you?"

"No. No. Nononono. Just...heh. Hahahaha. HEH. You see..." He caught sight of himself in a mirror. He stuck out his blue tongue at the image. He regressed to laughing.

"Are you strangling a squeak-toy there?"

He came back to his senses. "Oh. No. Laughing."

"Only you, Jacob." Jacob could almost hear the eye roll over the phone. "So what's this call about?"

Jacob wanted to say something along the lines of "I've turned into the ferret hybrid I was costumed as" or "I seem to be a large weasel" or "my tongue is blue" or "I seem to be lacking in pants without any morality issues." None of these seemed to be good candidates for getting Becca to take him seriously. It was unfortunate that any of these things might be something he would say in the string a late-night conversation. Instead, he said:

"Still on for dinner tonight?"

"Of course."

"Still don't know why you wouldn't come to the con."

"And deal with being seen with a six foot tall ferret? That, and my geek quota stops at watching Battlestar Galactica."

"Fair enough."

"...you're not gonna be wearing the costume to dinner, are you?"

Jacob clenched and unclenched a paw, noting muscles under fur that provided the action. "I hope not."

The said good-byes and Jacob replaced the phone on the cradle.

He sat on the bed clenching and unclenching his paw. He searched his chest for a hidden zipper again. He experimentally twitched his tail. He hopped about on his digitigrade legs. He examined the places where the bright blue fur and brown fur met. He placed the goggles on, turning the world green and shiny.

He took in his options and decided he had gone insane. Sure, most insane people didn't know they had gone insane but he decided it was the only way this made sense. People did not become what they were costumed as.

Jacob ignored that this was the same logic most creatures used in an absurd unexplainable situation in most narratives.

He let himself settle back on the bed, limbs splayed out, twisting and turning, liking the feel of his long body on the linens. Ah, insanity didn't feel that bad. No wonder insane people smiled so much. Or why ferrets did this in bedsheets in countless YouTube videos.

A sensation hit him.

O O O

One disconcerting trip to the bathroom later, he decided he had not gone insane.

O O O

"So, you got like straps and stuff in that thing?"

"Excuse me?"

"To make your tail move like that."

Jacob made a sideways glance at the guy sitting next to him. He wore a t-shirt with skulls for some rock band, his hair looked lived in. "Yeah. Sure."

"I'm not usually a fan of these costumes, but its pretty sweet," the guy said, poking at the tail.

"Don't touch the tail..." he checked the badge, "...Raven."

As if to emphasize the point, the tail rose, and the tip of it poked Raven on the nose. Raven gaped. Jacob turned his attention back to the panel. He briefly considered staying in the hotel room. Then the forty five dollar con fee haunted his hide. He'd considered since nothing had happened horribly this morning in his strange daze (he still wasn't quite sure what had happened there) he probably could attend the con with little notice.

He was half right. He did gain notice, but mostly because his costume was so notably brilliant. He didn't know what to make of this. He would thinks someone would notice how oddly real his outfit was. He decided after a while that people just looked at the world through a tint, that something strange was brushed under the carpet as something sensible. Even for fans of the fantastical, it made more sense to see Jacob as a person in a realistic costume than a large ferret, or perhaps it was the other way around. As with yesterday, people still saw him as a larger weasel-type creature, and treated him as thus, just taking it in stride the same as before.

It was a sci-fi / fantasy convention after all. One could pick out a dozen or so strange creatures in any landscape view in any room of the hotel.

The other thing that had drawn him out, was this panel. Biology and Ecology of Anthromorphic Races

If there was anywhere he was going to get some answers, this was going to be the place.

He listened as the panelists discussed foreign biology and traditions of fantasy species, and soon focused in upon the man to the right, Dr. Ralph Higgins, PhD of Biology, Zoology and Cryptozoology from the Northwest University. He seemed to have the best handle on the topic, bringing up issues, talking of genetics, and generally being amusing in his analogies. If there was anyone Jacob needed, it was someone with a sense of humor.

After the panel came to a close, it took all of Jacob's power to keep from going to all four paws and sneaking up the front as fast as he could. The tendencies kept sneaking up from the back of his mind. Odd thoughts. Some came from what he supposed came from being in the body of a ferretish creature. Some came from places a little odder (or would it be otter?), memories, faces, scenes of a steam filled landscape, dreams, details, things that were scrabbling for attention, coming to the surface when he became distracted. He found himself introducing himself as Reginald Tesla to whoever asked, without even a twitch of hesitation.

Which is why he needed answers.

He got to the table. "Dr. Higgins."

"Please, Dr. Ralph," the man said, taking a drink of water. "What can I do for you?"

"I have a bit of a problem I was wondering you could help me with."

"And what would that be."

"You see, I'm sorta a ferret."

Dr. Ralph sighed, pushing thick rimmed glasses up his nose, and gave a forced smile. "I'm sorry, I don't think I can help you. Humans are humans. And as much as you wish..."

"You misunderstand me."

"I know what you think. That you are a ferret trapped in a..."

"No. Just stop. Look at my face."

Dr. Ralph sighed again, but he did look at Jacob's face. The room was almost empty, the other panelist were gone, a few people were stumbling in for the next panel, Jacob took a deep breath.

Jacob licked his muzzle.

"Wha...wha...wha..."

"Dr. Ralph."

"Did. What? Now. Just..."

He whipped out a penlight from his shirt pocket and shined it in Jacob's eyes. His other hand danced its way across his marten-like ears. "You have...who are you...?"

"Dr. Ralph. I just needed to confirm I hadn't gone completely insane. I was a pretty sure but...well...good to have a doctor's opinion."

"You're actually a ferret. Well, not a ferret completely. The details are a little hazy. These are not ferret ears to be certain...and the tail looks like something off an otter...I can't believe I'm saying any of this. Is your tongue blue?"

"Just for fun."

"Do you have time?"

"Well, I was interested in that panel on gremlins...and the Artist of Honor is doing a display of...of course I have time. I'm a bloody ferret."

"Darn it. I have a panel coming up. Perhaps I've went insane. Perhaps..."

Jacob tweaked Dr. Ralph's nose with his claws.

"Ow. Thank you."

"Will you be able to help me?"

"I don't know. Can we meet for lunch? Please."

"You're looking at me like I'm a massive fuzzy tenure ticket."

"...yes?"

"Of course I'll meet with you for lunch. I've not made a stir yet. I can just wander about here." He held out a paw, he shook it, he hurried on his way, looking back multiple times, still in shock. He took out his pocket watch, now, mysteriously, authentic gold.

The costume contest was in a half-hour. He was signed up for it. When he had signed up it, he had not suspected this. Then again, there was no one in their right mind who would have suspected this. And there was the prize. An authentic replica of the 11th Doctor's sonic screwdriver /and/ signed poster.

Even if he weren't primarily a ferret the word "shiny" would have come unbidden to his mind.

O O O

"...and if you fix the wiring like so, you should be able to get a proper charge." Jacob looked down the glass barrel of the weapon. "You didn't even have the right to be calling this a lightning gun before I came along."

"What exactly did you do?" the lady dressed in the leather apron asked, taking the lightning gun back, "It took me ages to get it to spark up when the trigger is pulled."

"When Regi sees a device of untapped potential, something just opens up within me. As my Uncle Nikola used to say, 'It all starts with a spark...' And with your weapon there, I took that line quite literally. Now, considering bystanders, I thought it best not to extend its potential too much, but enough that it gives a little of a show. See that mysterious potted plant over there, just aim and fire."

"Ah, it can't hurt." The lady raised the weapon and pulled the trigger. The end of the gun sparked, then kept sparking, outward, strings of static electricity rotating through the air until they hit the plant, rotating about it in a shiny orb, that seemed to touch all parts without effecting the leaves. Meanwhile, the lights of the large meeting area flickered and sputtered with the charged air. She released the trigger. "How...?"

"Untapped potential, as I said," Jacob inserted, giving a deep bow to the miss, "And the only tip I require is a rub between the ears."

Uncertain how else to react, she rubbed him between the ears, letting a smile spread across her face. "That was brilliant, Regi. This is supposed to be just a model but... how did you do that? You only had it a few minutes."

"Never underestimate these fuzzy paws," Jacob countered, waggling his digits, "Speaking of which, the footpaw ones are dragging me to meet more chaps. See you about, miss." He saluted and moved on into the crowd, many of which were staring at him after the electric display. Jacob played along with their questions as they came...

"I'm a ferret, mostly, a dash of otter on my mum's side, a bit of marten on my pa's. But considering I grew up in a pod, didn't know either. Sad facts of genetic engineering, chap. Still didn't affect my roguish good looks."

"Need to say the best time I've had was fending off that steam-powered dragon in the Loch of Great Britain. Dastardly foe. Had a loose gasket and started eating all the fish. So, with only a wrench and bottle of castor oil, totally got that metal maw out of commission, saving the fish...after sampling a few myself. Testing for mercury content, you see."

"Wormholes are impeccable means of travel. How I came to this fair time to study the rhyme and reason of this impeccably run alternate universe. Not the smoothest running place but I do adore those vending machines."

"Ah, Tesla? I miss Uncle Nikola. He had the most fun facial hair. I tried to grow one like it but I just ended up grizzled."

Jacob would have been more unsettled on how easily the in-character conversations came to him if he wasn't having so much fun, exchanging brags with the brawniest of the airship pirates, flirting with the most spiced of the Female Gear Corps, trading ideas for the next phase in steam powered transportation (he believed pneumonic tubes were the next big thing). It was only half-way snorfing down a bowl of popcorn (paws optional) when his ears perked at the name of "Regi Tesla." He scampered up to the stage, waving at the audience, placing the popcorn in a pocket for later.

The moderator spoke: "I don't think we need to look very far to see who the Audience Favorite Award goes to. With his unconventional portrayal of a steampunk ferret hybrid, Regi Tesla has wooed at least a few ladies in the room." A series of female whistles met this remark. "He totally fits the theme of our convention, fuzziness and all. Now, it appears his name has been smudged on our sheet, so who are we giving this award to, Regi?"

Jacob smiled and cleared his throat. "Regi Tesla."

"Excuse me."

Jacob frowned. "Regi. Tesla. Sometimes Reginald Tesla." Something about that didn't sound right. The moderator was giving him a strange look. He rubbed the back of his head. What was he forgetting? He was Regi, wasn't he? Regi Tesla. Something didn't sound right still. "Just a moment, I have ID."

"What about that folks, keeping in character to the end," the moderator quipped. "Are you ok? You seem to be...panting."

Regi tried to get a hold of himself, shuffling through his pockets. He found his wallet, that seemed to look different. Than what, he couldn't remember. He opened it, he found his ID. Relieved, he handed it to the moderator. The moderator looked from the card to Regi a few times. "This is a card for the New York City Library from 1919. It says Reginald Jacob Tesla."

"Ah, Jacob. That's what I was forgetting," Regi stated, chittering nervously.

"What a character," the moderator said, shaking his head and rubbing Regi's snout, "No matter. You still deserve the prize. Bring it out here. Regi's eyes lit up when he saw the leather pouch held towards him. Authentic steampunk instruments and tools, made for any sort of task involving gears and bolts. Regi could already imagine using these for all matter adventures, slithering through crevices and corners of expansive machines across the globe.

"Thank you!" He almost tackled the moderator in a hug, nuzzling him on the neck, causing the moderator to giggle.

"Down, boy. Anyone have a ball of tin foil to distract him?" he called to the audience, winking. "Dang your costume is impressive," he whispered when Regi relented, "Heck, your nose is even a little wet."

Regi saluted. "Thanks. Must head to an appointment, sir."

O O O

"Your name is really Regi Tesla?" Dr. Ralph asked.

"You keep asking that. You think the waitress will bring more crackers if I ask? I really like the crackers here. Every time I eat them, there are crumbs left over. Then I can lick them off the table, and my paws, and my chest fur and then..."

"Focus. When did...this, happen?"

Regi twitched his whiskers, giving a Dr. Ralph a long stare, before he brightened. "I am a genetic experiment. Mostly ferret. They grew me in a pod. Like peas. But I'm not green. I've been told I'm very bright for a ferret, though I've found ferrets are very bright, humans just don't know how to listen. Have you ever spoken to a ferret?"

Dr. Ralph stirred his coffee. "I'm a little confused."

"You see. I was going to come to a human event to see how they acted in real life. At first I said my name was Jacob and I was dressed like a ferret, but then I found out that people saw me as a steam punk ferret already, so why not just be myself. It's much easier to be myself. I'm having a lot of fun here. Ooo, and there's dancing tonight. I love dancing. I get to be swoopy."

"Regi. You're not going to believe me. But I don't think you're a genetically grown ferret. If you are a flesh and blood ferret, that doesn't even make sense. It is not possible. You shouldn't exist."

"Don't you like me?"

"What? I don't..."

"You think I'm strange, don't you..."

"No. That's not what I mean. You're fine. I like you. But..."

"Oh good. I like you too. Think I can have more crackers?"

Dr. Ralph rubbed his temples. "Alright. I think you are heading towards some trouble. I'll call a few friends and we'll take care of you. In fact, I'll call my lawyer. Just to be safe. While you're here, I wouldn't worry. That's the funny thing about these conventions, something like this can happen and no one will notice. Outside of this place, if whatever this is doesn't go away, it might be tricky."

"Tricks. I know tricks. Do you have a deck of cards?"

"Dr. Ralph shook his head. "A tenure might take me taking this on. Trust me. I'll make sure nothing happens to you. I have connections. You just stay around the convention and I'll find you. Understand?"

"Yes. I'll call you on this." He pulled out a dial phone out of his pack, wires and gears sticking out of the sides, it appeared to be smoking. "I put a little combustion engine in that phone in my room and look, its portable now. I see other people with little ones but this is much more nice looking. Don't you think?"

Dr. Ralph straightened his glasses. "Yes, it is."

O O O

Regi walked around the dealer's den with a vigor only a ferret could accomplish, scampering from table to table, getting his paws on everything, making comments upon the impressive workmanship and artistry. He loved seeing that humans could accomplish when left to their creative devices. They had an imagination he was quite envious of, so much potential, so many shiny stuff they could create.
Many artists found them in the position of being hugged by an over-enthusiastic ferret thing, who could think of no better way to portray his appreciation. Licking was not approved by many human societies.

As he took time to take down notes in the artist section, in a nice homemade leather-bound journal he had bought (the artist had been nice enough to stamp a ferret likeness on the cover), a figure brushed next to him. Regi paused, and looked over at the many tailed vulpine.

"Hey. You. Haven't seen you for a while. Have you been enjoying this grand display of humans acting and reacting within a organized meeting in which they celebrate the collective works of their imaginations?"

The kitsune cocked an ear. "Come again?"

"It's bloody fantastic. I really can't wait to get back to my typewriter at home and write out a report."

"You're losing me."

"I just can't get over how wonderful the place is. I've been told I can't stay after its over, but I just want to explore more of this world. I want to get my paws dirty. To wander into other strange new places that..."

The kitsune punched Regi across the maw, then took the ferret by the shoulders.

"Look me in the eyes, Jacob."

The ferret blinked. Shook himself. Blinked again. "Jacob..."

"Jacob. What's going on?"

"I'm not Jacob. That's my middle name. I like that name though. I guess you could..."

"Come with me."

The kitsune dragged the ferret with him, tipping his hat to any witnesses who had seen him hit the ferret. The con-goers went along their way, deciding it was just a routine they had come into halfway. The pair made it to one of the drinking stations, took a glass of ice water, and splashed it over the ferret's face.

"Who are you?"

The ferrets rubbed his now sopping features. He pulled the paws back and stared at them, then, startled twitching in his whiskers, looked about himself. "Where am I?"

"First tell me who you are?"

"Regi. No...wait...I'm not Regi. Just a moment."

"Jacob."

"That might be it." His eyes widened. "Yes. Wait. What's going on? You!"

"Yes, me. It appears I've miscalculated something."

"You did this to me?"

"Yes, to a point. This change in your personality is entirely unexpected though. You were only supposed to become what your costume was, not become what your character was."

"Why? No, that's too vague. There are so many questions I don't even know where to begin. What's going on? Why do I...I..." the sides of his face twitch, sneaking into a smile, he giggled briefly, chittering giggle, then his face cleared again, "Why can't I think of myself as...J-...Ja-...I'm Regi. Pleased to meet you." He clamped paws over his muzzle.

"I underestimated your level of imagination, Jacob. As you were saying, humans are amazing creatures, capable of much potential and fantastic accomplishment. Look at you. You made this costume, trying to bring a character to life, just for fun. But that character is being made real. Yes, I did do this to you, but something in you is bringing you the rest of the way into this character."

"It's taking all my power to not go over there and muse over that shiny ball of sparks for ten minutes," Regi said, gesturing over his shoulder.

"Would it be any comfort to you to say that you are a ladykiller with that face of yours?"

"I've been told when I stick my blue tongue out when I smile I'm liable to cause girlish squees from any nearby females. So who are you?"

The kitsune shrugged. "Remember what I said when we met?"

Regi facepawed. "You've got to be kidding me."

"Yes, I am a trickster, through and through, but this is not what I was aiming to do. I am not a cosmic creature doing things to make people's lives miserable. I do it for the same reason you costume, just for fun. By the way, you're not a furry, are you?"

"...actually, no. Common misconception though."

"Ah, well, I'll go for poetic irony next time. The point is...Regi. I mean...Regi. Reginald." The kitsune leaned in closer. "Regi Tesla. OK, that is a little weird. Are you still with me?"

Regi nodded. "I know what happened. I just...can't remember things. What is happening?"

"Regi is acclimating himself to this world. He is not some evil spirit trying to take over your body, he's just trying to be himself, and trying to let you be yourself. The problem is, he doesn't know where one ends and begins. You know how writers put a little of themselves into their characters?"

"...yes."

"Therein lies the avenue where the personalities have collided and integrated. Being in Regi's body is not helping settle matters."

"Can't you just turn me back?"

"Yes, you see, there's an issue, it seems that, urm..." Regi noted the kitsune's tails all lowered, as did the kitsune's ears. "Would it be a cop-out to say it's all up to you on how you end up?"

"Yes."

A ringing came from the kitsune's pocket. "One moment." He pulled a russet cellphone out. "Yes? Oh. Beargod, huh? He can't be Mars, that's Roman, that is Death Valley. Urhmm. The armor...and epic sword. You know...I can't...yeah. My vacation time...you can't say that wasn't funny. Yeah. The cleanup. That PETA picnic was asking for it...I thought the skunk thing was...yeah. OK, I'll be there in a few...yeah...ur...I don't...loveyoutoo." He pressed a button with a claw to hang up. "I need to go."

"You can't leave me like this."

"You'll be just fine. I heard Dr. Ralph is taking care of you."

"Wait, what does...?"

"Just be yourself, Regi."

And suddenly the kistune was gone.

O O O

After the kitsune had left, Regi wandered the con in a daze, occasionally perking up to some shiny activity or item, but in general lost in thought. He eventually settled down on a chair next to the elevators, no armrests which made it easier to sit with his tail, creatures here had little to no accommodations for tails. Pulling out pieces he's scourged from his hotel room's complimentary hair dryer and electric shaver, Regi started fiddling with the mass of wires, unpacking tools on the fake wooden end table. Working with his paws helped him concentrate..

None of this made sense. He shook his head. Of course it didn't. He was visiting an alternate dimension set in the far future. If this all made sense, he would have to be worried about his mental status. Still, he sensed something wrong with himself. The conversation with the kitsune had unlocked some things, but no sooner had the kitsune left, had the fractures sealed, leaving him befuddled and twitchy. In fact, his tail still had a nervous tick, almost knocking the cheap lamp off the end table.

Regi started to mutter to himself. "Ah. I wish that kitsune hadn't come and said anything at all. I was having such fun. I'm Regi Jacob Tesla. Why was I saying if he could turn me back? Turn me back to what? So silly. I am a prime example of the extents of genetic manipulation. I just wanna go and try that grilled cheese sandwich again. Those are cool. Wonder why I never had one before."

He viciously twisted coils around the shaver motor. "And what about me being a character? I'm not a character. I'm not. Characters are things in books with ray guns and who go on space adventures and fight off bog beasts. Stuff that would never happen in real life. I am a legitimate creature founded on scientific fact. There is nothing..." The device he fiddled with sparked, shocking him. He mind quirked, just a moment. He sucked on the digit hurt and stuffed the wires and tools back into his bag.

He didn't like being angry, he wanted to be happy, he wanted to enjoy the con, he wanted to meet more people. Regi found his mind embroiled in the seeds of doubt placed in his mind by the kitsune. He growled at anyone who spoke to him. The people laughed and growled back, moving on. The ferret wanted to go home. He wanted to be in his own hammock, in his own little lab, surrounded by his own inventions. Regi didn't want to bother with this idea of being a character and yet he couldn't shake it.

Something caught him, through the edge of his gaze, he paused, first torso, and then legs turning towards the distraction. A wall covered with photos of con-goers, from the first day, just after registration, He snatched at one of the photos, staring slacked jawed at the figure it portrayed.

"That your entrance photo?" a voice interrupted, coming from a man in full Spiderman costume and money pouch.

"I...guess."

"That will be ten dollars."

"Oh. Yes." Regi stuck a paw in his pocket, digging for some of the monetary paper had had brought along. He pulled out a couple crumpled fives to the man.

"Nice costume."

"...thanks." Regi couldn't take his attention off the photograph, a 8 x 10 glossy. It showed Regi, though not exactly. It appeared as some strange chractature of Regi, exaggerated in the details, fake looking face, perpetual grin, glazed-over eyes, could see sewed seams on the edges, off-kilter paws holding a fake over-sized pocket watch. The figure was posed in a mischievous salute at the camera. In every way, it was a photo of a person in a ferret hybrid costume. A costume of Regi.

At first, Regi thought perhaps it was just some strange coincidence, but the more he looked, and compared the details of the costume with his own body, the more he knew this was not true.

He was a character.

But if he were a character...who...

The sides met."

"Jacob? Wait, yes, I am Jacob, but I'm also Regi. I thought my middle name sounded familiar. But, is that my real middle name? Oh pufferfish this is odd. I'm Jacob. I know it. I'm Regi, too. This is getting us nowhere. Am I even speaking to myself or...ok, let's just think of his sensibly. I came to this con as Jacob but now I'm Regi but I'm also still Jacob. Ow, my head hurts...I can't even have a proper split personality to sort this out. Am I even alright with this?"

He got on his haunches, and scratched behind an ear with a hind paw, then got up, smoothed his fur, and continued walking.

"I think that odd interlude in itself just screamed both yes and no. This is weird. Just trying to speak this all out. Don't want to think it all out. I'd be liable to explode in a puff of logic or something. For the time being, I think I can stick with calling myself Regi Jacob Tesla. Keeps a good solid...ooo, is that a Red Dwarf signed poster...no, moving on. No shinies. Bad ferret. Uncle Nikola would know what to do. I can't believe I know Tesla and I call him my uncle. There is something so cool about that. I'm accepting this too readily. Oh, fuzzbutt this is absurd."

He pulled out his pocket watch. "And I have dinner with Becca in twenty minutes. Perfect."

O O O

Regi lapped his ice water nervously as he waited for Becca. This would not end well. It wouldn't start well either. He just knew it. Now that he had come to the absurd equilibrium between himself as Jacob and himself as Regi, it seemed that rather than anything being solved, it just made everything more complicated. It didn't help that the Jacob side of himself kept bringing up legitimately worrisome questions which Regi brushed off with a cheerful disposition and equally worrisome answers.

Though still a casual restaurant, he still received a good share of Looks from the restaurant patrons.

"Jacob, I can't say I'm surprised, but, forgive my bluntness, what in Hellgates?"

"Your use of children's literature swearing is quite endearing, Becca," Regi countered, rising to pull out a seat.

"You said you wouldn't be wearing that fursuit."

"And I kept my word."

"Brushing it off as an 'animal costume' is not going to cut it."

"Becca," Regi said, placing a paw over his fuzzy chest where he believed his heart was (was hard to tell with a longer body to deal with, "Trust me."

"I've heard that line just before you've dragged me into some horrifying slash amusing experience."

"Hopefully more of the latter than the prior."

"The jury is still out about that," Becca said, accompanied by an eyeroll and brushing her chestnut hair behind her ears. "I assume this means the convention is going well."

"You could say that. It's come with some complications."

"What, Regi, you got your tail stuck in an elevator door?" She made a face. "...Regi. No. Regi. No, wait...why am I...?"

"Well, my name /is/ Regi Jacob Tesla."

"No it isn't. You're Regi." She looked at Regi, and this time, Regi could tell, she really looked. He twitched his whiskers and let himself smile.

"That...you're..."

"I've heard this routine before. Let me cover the basics," Regi said, spreading his paws, "Yes, I am a real ferret hybrid from a alternate history steampunk era where I have associations with the mad science of genetics and a rising inventor named Nikola Tesla. And..." He rose one digit to keep Becca from interjecting, "I was created by Jacob, a sci-fi / fantasy fan, and my creator, and I also happen to be him. One in the same. Two for one deal. We're still writing up the contracts."

Becca appeared dumbstruck, twisting a napkin in her grip.

Regi rose a paw, "More crackers please!"

"That doesn't make any sense. I've known you since elementary school, there is no way..."

"And yet here I am before you, able to pick my nose with my blue tongue. A sort of blue tongue that even a proper popsicle can't manage."

"And you're alright with this?"

Regi leaned forward and held out his paws. It took a full awkward minute, before Regi could tell his cute face seeped past the logic of Becca's mind and she placed her hands in the ferret's sable paws. "Becca. You are one of my best friends. You know me all too well. I'm compulsive and absurd, I say and do stupid things, and above all, I am always trying to be somewhat normal. Believe me. This is nothing I wanted. This is nothing I dreamed about. And I am scared out of my wits. But at this point, at this moment, I know that I'd never be happy try to be normal, and if being Regi is where I have to go to be not normal...well..." He shrugged. "Being a steampunk ferret hybrid is not a bad way to go."

"This is a lot to take in."

"So, bad time to say government agents are converging on our table?"

"Perhaps."

"Mmm...could I still take out my electric pulse gun?"

"If you want to. Can you really pick your nose with your tongue?"

"Yes."

"That's gross."

"What can say? It's a habit I'm trying to break. But genetically installed instincts, what can you do?"

"So about those government agents..."

"I wasn't going to say anything about them. How did you know?"

"Lucky guess."

Two rather large men in black suits flanked the table.

Regi smiled at the two, not letting go of Becca's hands. "We'll order later, we're having a meaningful moment."

"We are here on behalf of the U.S. Government."

"Well, if you are from the Men in Black, sorry to inform you, I am not from outer space /and/ I hold U.S. Citizenship under the Genetic Creatures Rights Law of 1909. So both definitions of alien do not apply. Of course, that depends upon your views on cross-dimensional law."

"Regi, I'm sure they are just here to check on my highly insidious ferret tattoo."

"D'aww, when did you get that?"

"It was going to be a surprise."

The men in black suits cleared their throats, simultaneously. The one on the left spoke. "We're sorry to interrupt your date."

"Ooo, we're dating?" Regi exclaimed.

"Perhaps. Not at the kissing stage yet. I think we will have to draw the line at nose-nuzzling."

"Shut up!" the man on the right said.

Regi and Becca reluctantly stopped holding hands and settled back in their seats.

"So is this on the horrifying or amusing side, Becca?" he said, looking about for the waitress with potential crackers.

"I think your current ferrety disposition is pressing it to amusing. Though can't be sure. This feels like a strange dream. Is your mood infectious?"

"No, I think we're just being...normal, for us," Regi said, sticking his tongue out at her.

Before anything more dire could proceed in this dinner theater, which most the restaurant patrons now watched, someone called out. "Stop!" All turned, to see Dr. Ralph and a woman, of brunette hair and flowing skirts, walk into the restaurant. The woman continued, "What is going on here?"
The government agents glowered. The one on the left spoke. "We are here on behalf of the U.S. Government to investigate the presence of a foreign lifeform in..."

The woman turned to Dr. Ralph, "Is he serious? You were being serious? And that is a ferret thing."

Dr. Ralph shrugged, "I had a bit of a feeling this would happen. You see, I think that the fabric of our universe is being wrinkled because of the presence of Regi Tesla. The world about him is bending in ways to conform to something out of a science fiction plot, to the point that reality is..."

"No need of the specifics, Ralph. I get the gist. Now, you two. You cannot take that ferret into custody."

"Why not," the man on the right growled.

"Do you have a warrant?"

The men shuffled awkwardly.

"Of course. You don't need a warrant. You come in and clean up, no questions asked. Now I'm here to question you."

"Who are you?" the man on the right countered.

"I am Jess Winters, science fiction writer and I have a PhD in Law. I normally use that in my illegal space alien court drama plots, but considering what Ralph has told me, this is an opportunity I couldn't miss." She walked up to the table and, with a professional edge, tweaked Regi's ears, nose, mouth, and paws, before giving a satisfied nod. "I have gathered documentation on Mr. Tesla to form a case affirming his possession of all rights he had before he became his own character. Now, I need to do further research, but I have the papers here that prohibit you from taking this creature into custody."

She handed a folder over to the man on the left. He took it carefully and leafed through, then handed it over to his partner, who ripped though the documents with a more violent vigor. They shared a glower over the table, then left. Though the man on the right made rude gestures before he exited and muttered a few things that made the fur on the inside of Regi's ears burn. The patrons felt obliged to clap.

After they had left, Jess Winters turned her attention back to Regi. "I am offering my services as your lawyer, do you accept?"

Regi looked the lady up and down. "I can't think of anyone better to represent me."

She suddenly hugged Regi around the neck. "Oh, I always hoped to use my research! I always hoped maybe for a real alien but I shall make do with a ferret. You're so fuzzy! I shall keep in touch." She released, with a wide smile on her face. "Oh, Ralph. I'm going to have so much fun with this. I hope there's a case. I shall work on the papers now. Keep in touch, Regi. I'll have a preliminary report tomorrow." She practically skipped out of the restaurant.

Dr. Ralph turned back to Regi. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm not completely Regi or Jacob now, if that's what you mean?"

"And you're alright with this?"

Regi shot a glance at Becca, then shrugged. "I guess we'll see."

Dr. Ralph sighed and shook his head. "You...will let me poke and prod you for a minimally invasive scientific and biological examination, won't you?"

"I'll think about it. You're giving me the fuzzy tenure ticket look again."

"I can't help it."

"I'll catch up with you tomorrow morning."

Dr. Ralph nodded to Regi and Becca, then exited himself. The two finally looked back at each other.

"That was...interesting," Becca said.

"That's one way to put it, wonder where my crackers got to," Regi said, trying to spy the waitress again.

"So, where do we go from here?"

"Well..." he pulled a device from his pocket, and placed it in the center of the table. "I conjured this up while waiting for you to come. It took me a bit to get it just right, but...this is a wormhole conductor."

"I'm not even going to grace you with asking 'what.'"

"This device can make a condensed wormhole, one capable of transporting me back to my steampunk era...and a friend."

"Wait, that place doesn't exist. You're still a character. There is no way that...and I'm trying to explain this to a six foot tall ferret."

"So, do you want to come?"

"Seriously?"

"Why not?"

"And give up my life. You giving up your life? You can't be serious. This..."

"No, no, no. Just a little vacation. For a few weeks. Well, a few weeks there, only two hours here. You know, traveling through time and space. Has nice quirks there."

"You're trying to catch my inner Doctor Who fangirl, aren't you?"

Regi's ears lowered guiltily. "Yeah, a little."

Becca took one of his paws, giving a devious smile. "You're a little weasel, you know that."

Regi lowered his goggles with a paw. "I prefer 'ferret.'"

He pressed the button.
[[Category:Story]] [[Category:Comedy]] [[Category:Anthropomorphic]] [[Category:Ferret]] [[Category:Mental change]]

Not Quite Furry

2024-04-10T04:15:10Z

Lem: Corrected ~100 spelling and grammar errors to improve readability.

{{Critique requested}}Jacob walked into the bathroom breathing hard.

He brought costumed paws to over-sized plastic eyes and leaned back against the sink. The paws sank, lingering on the sides of his muzzle, before they came down to his coat. He straightened out the baggy cloth, riddled with pockets and brass buttons, briefly took out a large novelty pocketwatch to check the time, and then patted down the chest fur that stuck out his unbuttoned front. Only then did he peak a look at the mirror behind him. He didn't have to flash a smile, it was already displayed in muzzle and foam teeth on the mask. The goggles, just big enough to cover the costume's eyes, were still there.

David thought he might have lost them busting some moves in the lobby. What could he say, he was a sucker for an audience. Especially an audience of geek females. Must have been the glasses. And perhaps the offer of a cookie (which had been nicely placed through the mouth of his costume, complete with nomming sounds).

His breathing slowed. He rubbed at the fur at his neck, trying to relieve the itchiness of wayward velcro.

The sound of a stall opening interrupted him. Followed by a question. "So, what are you supposed to be?"

Jacob rolled his eyes under the facade. His friends had suggested he'd go as the Tenth Doctor, there wouldn't be as many questions, they said. He turned and saluted to the figure, only noticing in mid-motion that it was another fellow in full animal costume, russet furred fox and with the many tails, kitsune, outfitted in leather vest and bowler cap. A dash more realistic design than his own, yet still processing a dynamic flair. Jacob hadn't seen any other fellows of the fuzzy sort during this con, but it being just a small general sci-fi / fantasy con, he hadn't expected to.

"Are you one of those that doesn't speak?" the kitsune form asked.

"Ah, no, sorry. Didn't know anyone was in here. Just taking a breather. I usually reserve speaking for outside this room of porcelain thrones."

"I can jive with that," the kitsune said, turning on the faucet, "Not exactly the most enlightening of spots in human society, especially those frequented in public locations. Not many places make my nose wrinkle more, but they serve their purpose."

Only when the sink had turned off did it occur to Jacob he wasn't certain if the kitsune had removed his paw gloves before washing. By then, the kitsune was already heading to the door. Jacob took one final look in the mirror, to be certain his head was straight, and followed.

"So, what are you?" the kitsune repeated, as they headed across the tiled lobby, beyond through a pair of double doors, into the madness known as a science fiction / fantasy convention. A world filled with foam swords, fake pointy ears, horns, leather, and enough high-level Red-Bull-fueled geekness that would knock a Dementor a into a coma.

It was a dynamic quite unlike any other.

"Steampunk ferret, Regi Tesla, created in an alternate timeline where the development of genetics took a more mad science route, the same time steam became the primary power source. Not completely ferret, a few other weasel species thrown in, have an otter tail, golden chest fur and ears of a marten, and fringed with bright blue markings on the edges, as you can see. And, a blue tongue, just for fun."

"Wow. What prompted all that?"

"Boredom. Mostly. That, and when you be dealing with fantasy and sci-fi, much more fun to dance on the outskirts than sit on the mainstream. What better way than to mix together fringe science and anthropomorphic creatures? What is your backstory?"

The kitsune shrugged. "Kitsune trickster wandering time and space messing with whatever unwitting victims he happens to meet."

"I believe you've come to the epicenter of 'unwitting victims' my friend."

"Perhaps."

"I like it. Straight to the point. Simple to explain. And nice bowler cap, by the way."

"Nice goggles."

"Thank ye."

"So, what exactly takes place here?"

"First con?"

The kitsune looked like he was chewing his lip. Jacob brushed this off as a trick of a nearby stobelight. "Yes, you could say that."

"Mine too. The basics are thus: geeks gather together to discuss, buy, and play about geeky things. There's discussion panels, gaming rooms, a theater (mostly filled with bad anime), and, of course, the dealer's den, where merchandise calls its siren's song to con-goers. Just a matter of poking thing and seeing what you like best."

"Not many ferrets around."

"Alas, not enough people are as cool as me. Only I dare to be fuzzy among this geekiness. I don't have the guts to go to a con with primarily fuzzy creatures. Ah, the furries."

"Come again."

"Furry. I use the term 'anthropomorphic creatures' myself. Seems to give it a more literary edge. Still, can't go about wearing a ferret costume for long without the word popping up. Heck, I put a few months of trying to get this costume just right. Who else but a crazy person would go through the trouble, and the needle stabbing, involved in sewing just to sweat it out in a furry costume, hot and uncomfortable, barely able to see through these blasted eyeholes and...? I'm babbling. Point is, perhaps I'm a little insane."

"No, of course you're not."

"Posh. Everyone has levels of insanity. Mine is the fact I dress like a ferret hybrid because it feels like no one can see me, I can be someone else because everyone expects someone else, they do not see me, they see Regi."

"I disagree."

"Mmm?"

"Isn't it more along the lines of when you wear that suit, you are free to act as yourself?"

Jacob screwed his face into an odd expression, which he was glad the kitsune couldn't see. Now that seemed a little too odd to him. It was one thing to wear the costume, it was another to suppose the costume was him. He decided this fellow was one of those spiritual furries and suddenly he felt as if he'd been pulled somewhere where he didn't want to go. All there was to do now was to figure out an excuse to get out of this potentially awkward situation.

"I just do this for the fun of it."

The kitsune nodded, looking down at the floor with a reflective look. How did his mask do that? Jacob decided this was the time to make his escape. "So, a panel I wanted to go to is coming up so...I best be going."

The kitsune's ears perked. Literally perked. Jacob was becoming more and more wary. Why had he been saying all that stuff to this stranger. He didn't even know his name. He needed to go. But... He put up a paw. "Paw bump?"

The kitsune stared.

"You know. Like a fist bump. Except with paws. Just use your paw and bump mine. The least I can do." Weird or not, Jacob couldn't resist doing this action to anyone he met. The kitsune carefully clenched his digits and tapped Jacob's paw with his own. An odd surge, like a string of static electricity, spread through the fabric, through Jacob's hand. He kept from letting loose a startled squeak and saluted with his other hand. "Nice to meet you, dude. Enjoy the con!"

He backed away a few steps before turning tail, slithering through the crowd. Very strange chap, Jacob thought. All people here danced on a very thin line, between normal fans and crazed fanboys. Jacob liked to think of him on the sensible side, despite the ferret suit. His hand still tingled.

The rest of the Friday evening went without fanfare. The Dragon Slaying panel turned out to be less on-fire than Jacob would have hoped, and the Werewolf panel lacked bite, but the Totally Non-Sparkly Vampires panel didn't suck as much as expected either (the Vampire-in-the-Box had been a nice touch), so it all evened out. Soon, Jacob forgot about the kitsune, his focus being drawn to Doctor Who replicas in the dealer den and marathon of bad movies complete with humorous commentary.

He parried questions about his suit with what he hoped was an infectious flair, throwing some in-character comments from time to time (usually doing brief interludes on whatever devices or 'shinies' con-goers had on their person). Soon he started growing the character on the fly, making him a mechanic or engineer, always prone to seeing how stuff worked, obsessed with gears. He would need to write some of this down when he got back to the room.

Throughout the evening, the numbness remained in his arm, starting to spread outwards, radiating over him, inch by inch. He pressed this to the back of his mind.

Late, in the motel bar, Jacob found it impressive how many free drinks he could get just because people wanted to see him swig through the mouth of his costume.

O O O

"Regi?"

Through the haze, he felt himself being pulled up.

"Regi? I never caught your real name earlier."

Bright lights and shadows surrounded him and blurred as he tried to focus. He stumbled. Something gripped him, keeping him upright. He felt obliged to slump on this something. He noted russet tails waving behind his something. An arm wrapped around his middle and led him forward, onward. Still in the bar. Voices, laughs, how much had he drank? The voice trickled into his mind again.

"You appear to have drank a lot. That can't be good for your changing metabolism."

Jacob didn't trust himself to speak, so he gave a muzzy smile at the kitsune.

"Can you feel this?"

Something poked his nose. Strange feel. Odd. Just didn't, then there was a rub at the back of his neck, a pinch and suddenly his entire body went slack.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, forgot about that ferret reflex. Up we go."

Somehow, Jacob kept upright. He noticed vague details. The hall. The elevator. His tail twitching. Odd. He nuzzled the kitsune. Though he didn't normally do that in suit, just sorta happened. The kitsune pushed him back, chuckling.

"No, you just need rest. Glad I took a swing back to see how you were doing. Now, ah, judging from your key card, this is your room. This is where I'll drop you off." He pressed the door open and the key into one of Jacob's jacket pockets. They got into the room. Jacob felt himself fall onto the bed. He clutched at the comforter and sheets, pulling them to his body. He made a little dooking noise.

"Now, when you wake up, you're gonna feel much better, Regi."

The world faded away.

O O O

Jacob opened one eye, the sunlight blinding it immediately. He turned over and slumped off the bed with a soft thump. His head burned. He licked his muzzle. The sticky taste of alcohol tinged the fur. His breath stank. His vision swam when he tried to push himself up.

The full definition of the word "hangover" wandered crookedly through his mind.

He saw paws blurrily. Still in costume? Figures. Still, it appeared he was in his room at the least. Small blessings. The premise of coffee wandered by. His whiskers twitched and he started moving towards this idea.

He stumbled on all four paws out of the bed sheets before snuffling about for his clothes. He found his jacket behind a chair, his bandana under the bed, his leather tote bag in the shower. While there, he took the time to splash water on his face. He smoothed the fur about his eyes, blue tongue licking a stain of something on his nose. Jacob got to his hind paws, cracking the vertebrate of his back, stretching it this way and that, getting himself limber, finding the right balance point by getting his thick tail into position. He shook himself, patted his left jacket pocket for the hotel keycard, and headed into the hall.

Jacob played off the people along the journey from room to the breakfast room. Giving sleepy waves, high fours, and goofy faces to the younger ones. He felt much better by the time sat down to lap at his coffee. There was a little trouble to be had with the chair though. He couldn't quite get his tail to cooperate, so he had to settle with sitting on the chair sideways, so the tail could be unfettered.

He nodded politely to the variation of "great costume" that were tossed his way. He hoped they couldn't smell the beer on his fur.

Halfway through his cup of coffee the gleam of a shiny object in the breakfast nook caught his eye. Before he could stop himself, he had scampered to the shiny, and was examining it, turning it all ways in his paws. Feeling the smooth edges, claws picking at the coils within. He pulled a screwdriver out of his tote. He unplugged the device, for safety. Soon, coils and wires spilled out the bottom. A few persons came by, bread in hand, opened their mouths, then ended up just watching the progress. Jacob smiled. He loved an audience.

Then someone cleared their throat in a displeased way. Regi didn't like that sound. Made his tail twitch. Jacob looked up, to see a mustached man with hotel employee tag on his jacket.

"Excuse me, sir. What are you doing with that toaster?"

"Fixing it."

"Sir. That is property of the hotel. If it was broken, you should have told us and..."

"Oh, of course it /worked/. Just wasn't working to its full potential."

The hotel employee's brows furrowed. The other hotel patrons quirked theirs.

Jacob carefully closed up the toaster and plugged it in. "Let me show you. You see, this device was not using the energy it was using to its full potential to heat the coils and toast the bread." Jacob took a piece of bread from one of the audience and placed it in the toaster. He pushed the lever down with one claw. The toaster blazed with light for no more than a second, before the toast popped back up. The audience gasped. The bread had been toasted to the most perfect shade of brown.

"See, reduces the time and completely streamlines the process. You'd think that a society with an advanced paw on manipulating energy would be more adept at taking advantage of these sorts of things. Now about your waffle maker, I think..." Jacob caught sight of something in the toaster. He picked it up again. He looked closer. He saw a reflection. He saw a face. A face of a ferret, a dark mask around its eyes fringed with a line of bright blue fur, maw gapping, showing a blue tongue, this surrounded by muzzle, complete with twitching whiskers.

And suddenly the string of events, from first opening his eye to looking into this toaster lost their alcoholic haze. From nose to tail, he felt everything. He did not have a limited view through two eye holes for those eye holes were where his eyes were, now looking cross-eyed at his own muzzle, at his paws holding the toaster, down at his golden furred chest.

Jacob placed the toaster down. "I'll get to the waffle maker later."

The hotel employee, still staring at shock at the toaster, did not react. He gave a few more high fours and salutes as he snuck out of the group of people.

In a blur, he got back to the elevator, up to his floor, back into his room, back into the bed, and promptly gave a series of panicked chitters into a pillow.

In a corner, hugging a pillow, Jacob tried to rationalize his situation.

With little success.

He slowly brought up his right paw up again. He looked at the pink paw pads against sable fur, the claw on the end of each digit. He followed the sable fur down the arm, interrupted by a ring of bright blue fur, before turning to the milk chocolate shade of his hide. Jacob gripped the arm with his left paw, feeling his pulse under the fur, running at an alarming rate.

"I'm perfectly fine. Nothing to worry about. Absolutely fine. There is nothing to worry about. Just need to take a few more deep breaths and then everything will be normal. I will take off this mask and just spend the rest of the con splurging in the dealer's den. Perhaps get a few shiny items..."

His voice tapered off, realizing his vocalized assurances were not helping much. He breathed deeply. Once. Twice. Three times. He brought his paws, no, hands up to his neck, feeling for the Velcro strap. He felt deeper. He started scrabbling at his neck, as if being strangled, gasping for air, feeling desperately through the fur, trying to capture the zipper. It had to be there, it had to...

"Ow!" he squeaked. He felt his chin and brought back the paw. A slight dash of red had sprinkled the pad. He had nicked himself with a claw.

"What? You have got to be kidding me! WHAT IN THE-" His jaws took hold of the pillow and ripped, sending feathers into the air, flashing in Jacob's mind, fueling the rage, he leapt at the feathers, diving, crashing against a chair, twisting his body, diving again, hitting the drawers, the tv rocked, he stabilized it with his tail. He carried on half conscious as he pounced onto the bed, claws and jaws ripping into the bed sheets, mind flashing, words lost to squeaks and dooking noises. This blurred motion of pouncing, bouncy, feral actions continued, until he became tangled in the comforter, which brought his swooping rampage to a halt. Still tangled, he rolled off the bed onto the carpet, huffing breaths, whiskers still twitching. He sniffed to note the odd smell in the air. He sent a baleful glance down at his lower half, tail still wagging, and wondered briefly if he had glands that had went off.

He was a weasel after all.

No, ferret hybrid thing. Even if that might have been a weasel war dance...

No, he wouldn't accept that. There was something he had done. Something that someone else had done. As he released himself from the comforter's comforting confinement, he wracked his memories. Last night. The haze. The hangover still nibbing at the edges. The bar. The drinks. The burning throat. The stickiness of the floor. The kitsune. He squinted at that. The kitsune? That spiritual furry? He'd seen him again. Hadn't he? Assuring words. He'd brought him to his room. What had he said? Suddenly, all those tail and ear twitches, the expression managed by the vulpine muzzle, the odd knowing gold tinge in the eyes, clarified.

You'll feel much better in the morning.

He dooked at the realization.

He found the half-emptied pillow amidst the feathers and clutched it again, giving the surroundings a wary look.

"OK. I get it. Nice trick. Very funny. You can come out now."

No response.

"Yeah, I had some life lesson. Come on. You can turn me back now. I'll not...do, whatever I was supposed to be not doing now. That's it, right? Needed to learn a lesson? Yeah?"

Nothing.

Jacob's ears drooped. What was he doing? Just speaking to the air. Not like anyone would respond from the ether.

His ears perked, hoping perhaps this expectation of nothing to happen would cause something to happen.

Nothing did.

Everything about him drooped now. He nibbled at the pillow, noting a flavor to the feathers. Goose down. Fancy. Dang How had he gotten into this? He had turned into his costume. Not turned into his costume to the point he had fabric hide and plastic eyes, but to the point he had become what his costume had only attempted to represent. He was flesh and blood, right down to biological levels and he didn't even want to consider what that fully entailed.

He dooked, a sad tone to the sound. Still a little cute sounding too, he had to admit.

O O O

"Hellooooo, Beeeeecca."

"Jake?"

"Yes. How are you doing?"

"Find. How's fursuitting?"

Jacob placed a paw over his eyes. "Don't use that word."

"Oh. How does the convention go...in that fursuit?"

"Must you torture me so."

"I'm your friend, its in the job description."

"We need to negotiate that contract. Dare I go into the argument that its a costume that happens to be an animal?"

"Heard it before. Argument needs work."

Jacob noticed he was a wrapping the cord of the hotel phone around a claw, bringing him back to quote-unquote reality.

"That's why I called you."

"To come up with a better argument? How about not wearing that odd thing. Looks cute and all but do you really need to deal with the context?"

"Context. Yeah. Heh. You see. Funny thing..."

"You didn't have a fling, did you?"

"No. No. Nononono. Just...heh. Hahahaha. HEH. You see..." He caught sight of himself in a mirror. He stuck out his blue tongue at the image. He regressed to laughing.

"Are you strangling a squeak-toy there?"

He came back to his senses. "Oh. No. Laughing."

"Only you, Jacob." Jacob could almost hear the eye roll over the phone. "So what's this call about?"

Jacob wanted to say something along the lines of "I've turned into the ferret hybrid I was costumed as" or "I seem to be a large weasel" or "my tongue is blue" or "I seem to be lacking in pants without any morality issues." None of these seemed to be good candidates for getting Becca to take him seriously. It was unfortunate that any of these things might be something he would say in the string a late-night conversation. Instead, he said:

"Still on for dinner tonight?"

"Of course."

"Still don't know why you wouldn't come to the con."

"And deal with being seen with a six foot tall ferret? That, and my geek quota stops at watching Battlestar Galactica."

"Fair enough."

"...you're not gonna be wearing the costume to dinner, are you?"

Jacob clenched and unclenched a paw, noting muscles under fur that provided the action. "I hope not."

The said good-byes and Jacob replaced the phone on the cradle.

He sat on the bed clenching and unclenching his paw. He searched his chest for a hidden zipper again. He experimentally twitched his tail. He hopped about on his digitigrade legs. He examined the places where the bright blue fur and brown fur met. He placed the goggles on, turning the world green and shiny.

He took in his options and decided he had gone insane. Sure, most insane people didn't know they had gone insane but he decided it was the only way this made sense. People did not become what they were costumed as.

Jacob ignored that this was the same logic most creatures used in an absurd unexplainable situation in most narratives.

He let himself settle back on the bed, limbs splayed out, twisting and turning, liking the feel of his long body on the linens. Ah, insanity didn't feel that bad. No wonder insane people smiled so much. Or why ferrets did this in bedsheets in countless YouTube videos.

A sensation hit him.

O O O

One disconcerting trip to the bathroom later, he decided he had not gone insane.

O O O

"So, you got like straps and stuff in that thing?"

"Excuse me?"

"To make your tail move like that."

Jacob made a sideways glance at the guy sitting next to him. He wore a t-shirt with skulls for some rock band, his hair looked lived in. "Yeah. Sure."

"I'm not usually a fan of these costumes, but its pretty sweet," the guy said, poking at the tail.

"Don't touch the tail..." he checked the badge, "...Raven."

As if to emphasize the point, the tail rose, and the tip of it poked Raven on the nose. Raven gaped. Jacob turned his attention back to the panel. He briefly considered staying in the hotel room. Then the forty five dollar con fee haunted his hide. He'd considered since nothing had happened horribly this morning in his strange daze (he still wasn't quite sure what had happened there) he probably could attend the con with little notice.

He was half right. He did gain notice, but mostly because his costume was so notably brilliant. He didn't know what to make of this. He would thinks someone would notice how oddly real his outfit was. He decided after a while that people just looked at the world through a tint, that something strange was brushed under the carpet as something sensible. Even for fans of the fantastical, it made more sense to see Jacob as a person in a realistic costume than a large ferret, or perhaps it was the other way around. As with yesterday, people still saw him as a larger weasel-type creature, and treated him as thus, just taking it in stride the same as before.

It was a sci-fi / fantasy convention after all. One could pick out a dozen or so strange creatures in any landscape view in any room of the hotel.

The other thing that had drawn him out, was this panel. Biology and Ecology of Anthromorphic Races

If there was anywhere he was going to get some answers, this was going to be the place.

He listened as the panelists discussed foreign biology and traditions of fantasy species, and soon focused in upon the man to the right, Dr. Ralph Higgins, PhD of Biology, Zoology and Cryptozoology from the Northwest University. He seemed to have the best handle on the topic, bringing up issues, talking of genetics, and generally being amusing in his analogies. If there was anyone Jacob needed, it was someone with a sense of humor.

After the panel came to a close, it took all of Jacob's power to keep from going to all four paws and sneaking up the front as fast as he could. The tendencies kept sneaking up from the back of his mind. Odd thoughts. Some came from what he supposed came from being in the body of a ferretish creature. Some came from places a little odder (or would it be otter?), memories, faces, scenes of a steam filled landscape, dreams, details, things that were scrabbling for attention, coming to the surface when he became distracted. He found himself introducing himself as Reginald Tesla to whoever asked, without even a twitch of hesitation.

Which is why he needed answers.

He got to the table. "Dr. Higgins."

"Please, Dr. Ralph," the man said, taking a drink of water. "What can I do for you?"

"I have a bit of a problem I was wondering you could help me with."

"And what would that be."

"You see, I'm sorta a ferret."

Dr. Ralph sighed, pushing thick rimmed glasses up his nose, and gave a forced smile. "I'm sorry, I don't think I can help you. Humans are humans. And as much as you wish..."

"You misunderstand me."

"I know what you think. That you are a ferret trapped in a..."

"No. Just stop. Look at my face."

Dr. Ralph sighed again, but he did look at Jacob's face. The room was almost empty, the other panelist were gone, a few people were stumbling in for the next panel, Jacob took a deep breath.

Jacob licked his muzzle.

"Wha...wha...wha..."

"Dr. Ralph."

"Did. What? Now. Just..."

He whipped out a penlight from his shirt pocket and shined it in Jacob's eyes. His other hand danced its way across his marten-like ears. "You have...who are you...?"

"Dr. Ralph. I just needed to confirm I hadn't gone completely insane. I was a pretty sure but...well...good to have a doctor's opinion."

"You're actually a ferret. Well, not a ferret completely. The details are a little hazy. These are not ferret ears to be certain...and the tail looks like something off an otter...I can't believe I'm saying any of this. Is your tongue blue?"

"Just for fun."

"Do you have time?"

"Well, I was interested in that panel on gremlins...and the Artist of Honor is doing a display of...of course I have time. I'm a bloody ferret."

"Darn it. I have a panel coming up. Perhaps I've went insane. Perhaps..."

Jacob tweaked Dr. Ralph's nose with his claws.

"Ow. Thank you."

"Will you be able to help me?"

"I don't know. Can we meet for lunch? Please."

"You're looking at me like I'm a massive fuzzy tenure ticket."

"...yes?"

"Of course I'll meet with you for lunch. I've not made a stir yet. I can just wander about here." He held out a paw, he shook it, he hurried on his way, looking back multiple times, still in shock. He took out his pocket watch, now, mysteriously, authentic gold.

The costume contest was in a half-hour. He was signed up for it. When he had signed up it, he had not suspected this. Then again, there was no one in their right mind who would have suspected this. And there was the prize. An authentic replica of the 11th Doctor's sonic screwdriver /and/ signed poster.

Even if he weren't primarily a ferret the word "shiny" would have come unbidden to his mind.

O O O

"...and if you fix the wiring like so, you should be able to get a proper charge." Jacob looked down the glass barrel of the weapon. "You didn't even have the right to be calling this a lightning gun before I came along."

"What exactly did you do?" the lady dressed in the leather apron asked, taking the lightning gun back, "It took me ages to get it to spark up when the trigger is pulled."

"When Regi sees a device of untapped potential, something just opens up within me. As my Uncle Nikola used to say, 'It all starts with a spark...' And with your weapon there, I took that line quite literally. Now, considering bystanders, I thought it best not to extend its potential too much, but enough that it gives a little of a show. See that mysterious potted plant over there, just aim and fire."

"Ah, it can't hurt." The lady raised the weapon and pulled the trigger. The end of the gun sparked, then kept sparking, outward, strings of static electricity rotating through the air until they hit the plant, rotating about it in a shiny orb, that seemed to touch all parts without effecting the leaves. Meanwhile, the lights of the large meeting area flickered and sputtered with the charged air. She released the trigger. "How...?"

"Untapped potential, as I said," Jacob inserted, giving a deep bow to the miss, "And the only tip I require is a rub between the ears."

Uncertain how else to react, she rubbed him between the ears, letting a smile spread across her face. "That was brilliant, Regi. This is supposed to be just a model but... how did you do that? You only had it a few minutes."

"Never underestimate these fuzzy paws," Jacob countered, waggling his digits, "Speaking of which, the footpaw ones are dragging me to meet more chaps. See you about, miss." He saluted and moved on into the crowd, many of which were staring at him after the electric display. Jacob played along with their questions as they came...

"I'm a ferret, mostly, a dash of otter on my mum's side, a bit of marten on my pa's. But considering I grew up in a pod, didn't know either. Sad facts of genetic engineering, chap. Still didn't affect my roguish good looks."

"Need to say the best time I've had was fending off that steam-powered dragon in the Loch of Great Britain. Dastardly foe. Had a loose gasket and started eating all the fish. So, with only a wrench and bottle of castor oil, totally got that metal maw out of commission, saving the fish...after sampling a few myself. Testing for mercury content, you see."

"Wormholes are impeccable means of travel. How I came to this fair time to study the rhyme and reason of this impeccably rn alternate universe. Not the smoothest running place but I do adore those vending machines."

"Ah, Tesla? I miss Uncle Nikola. He had the most fun facial hair. I tried to grow one like it but I just ended up grizzled."

Jacob would have been more unsettled on how easily the in-character conversations came to him if he wasn't having so much fun, exchanging brags with the brawniest of the airship pirates, flirting with the most spiced of the Female Gear Corps, trading ideas for the next phase in steam powered transportation (he believed pneumonic tubes were the next big thing). It was only half-way snorfing down a bowl of popcorn (paws optional) when his ears perked at the name of "Regi Tesla." He scampered up to the stage, waving at the audience, placing the popcorn in a pocket for later.

The moderator spoke: "I don't think we need to look very far to see who the Audience Favorite Award goes to. With his unconventional portrayal of a steampunk ferret hybrid, Regi Tesla has wooed at least a few ladies in the room." A series of female whistles met this remark. "He totally fits the theme of our convention, fuzziness and all. Now, it appears his name has been smudged on our sheet, so who are we giving this award to, Regi?"

Jacob smiled and cleared his throat. "Regi Tesla."

"Excuse me."

Jacob frowned. "Regi. Tesla. Sometimes Reginald Tesla." Something about that didn't sound right. The moderator was giving him a strange look. He rubbed the back of his head. What was he forgetting? He was Regi, wasn't he? Regi Tesla. Something didn't sound right still. "Just a moment, I have ID."

"What about that folks, keeping in character to the end," the moderator quipped. "Are you ok? You seem to be...panting."

Regi tried to get a hold of himself, shuffling through his pockets. He found his wallet, that seemed to look different. Than what, he couldn't remember. He opened it, he found his ID. Relieved, he handed it to the moderator. The moderator looked from the card to Regi a few times. "This is a card for the New York City Library from 1919. It says Reginald Jacob Tesla."

"Ah, Jacob. That's what I was forgetting," Regi stated, chittering nervously.

"What a character," the moderator said, shaking his head and rubbing Regi's snout, "No matter. You still deserve the prize. Bring it out here. Regi's eyes lit up when he saw the leather pouch held towards him. Authentic steampunk instruments and tools, made for any sort of task involving gears and bolts. Regi could already imagine using these for all matter adventures, slithering through crevices and corners of expansive machines across the globe.

"Thank you!" He almost tackled the moderator in a hug, nuzzling him on the neck, causing the moderator to giggle.

"Down, boy. Anyone have a ball of tin foil to distract him?" he called to the audience, winking. "Dang your costume is impressive," he whispered when Regi relented, "Heck, your nose is even a little wet."

Regi saluted. "Thanks. Must head to an appointment, sir."

O O O

"Your name is really Regi Tesla?" Dr. Ralph asked.

"You keep asking that. You think the waitress will bring more crackers if I ask? I really like the crackers here. Every time I eat them, there are crumbs left over. Then I can lick them off the table, and my paws, and my chest fur and then..."

"Focus. When did...this, happen?"

Regi twitched his whiskers, giving a Dr. Ralph a long stare, before he brightened. "I am a genetic experiment. Mostly ferret. They grew me in a pod. Like peas. But I'm not green. I've been told I'm very bright for a ferret, though I've found ferrets are very bright, humans just don't know how to listen. Have you ever spoke to a ferret?"

Dr. Ralph stirred his coffee. "I'm a little confused."

"You see. I was going to come to a human event to see how they acted in real life. At first I said my name was Jacob and I was dressed like a ferret, but then I found out that people saw me as a steam punk ferret already, so why not just be myself. It's much easier to be myself. I'm having a lot of fun here. Ooo, and there's dancing tonight. I love dancing. I get to be swoopy."

"Regi. You're not going to believe me. But I don't think you're a genetically grown ferret. If you are a flesh and blood ferret, that doesn't even make sense. It is not possible. You shouldn't exist."

"Don't you like me?"

"What? I don't..."

"You think I'm strange, don't you..."

"No. That's not what I mean. You're fine. I like you. But..."

"Oh good. I like you too. Think I can have more crackers?"

Dr. Ralph rubbed his temples. "Alright. I think you are heading towards some trouble. I'll call a few friends and we'll take care of you. In fact, I'll call my lawyer. Just to be safe. While you're here, I wouldn't worry. That's the funny thing about these conventions, something like this can happen and no one will notice. Outside of this place, if whatever this is doesn't go away, it might be tricky."

"Tricks. I know tricks. Do you have a deck of cards?"

"Dr. Ralph shook his head. "A tenure might take me taking this on. Trust me. I'll make sure nothing happens to you. I have connections. You just stay around the convention and I'll find you. Understand?"

"Yes. I'll call you on this." He pulled out a dial phone out of his pack, wires and gears sticking out of the sides, it appeared to be smoking. "I put a little combustion engine in that phone in my room and look, its portable now. I see other people with little ones but this is much more nice looking. Don't you think?"

Dr. Ralph straightened his glasses. "Yes, it is."

O O O

Regi walked around the dealer's den with a vigor only a ferret could accomplish, scampering from table to table, getting his paws on everything, making comments upon the impressive workmanship and artistry. He loved seeing that humans could accomplish when left to their creative devices. They had an imagination he was quite envious of, so much potential, so many shiny stuff they could create.
Many artists found them in the position of being hugged by an over-enthusiastic ferret thing, who could think of no better way to portray his appreciation. Licking was not approved by many human societies.

As he took time to take down notes in the artist section, in a nice homemade leather-bound journal he had bought (the artist had been nice enough to stamp a ferret likeness on the cover), a figure brushed next to him. Regi paused, and looked over at the many tailed vulpine.

"Hey. You. Haven't seen you for a while. Have you been enjoying this grand display of humans acting and reacting within a organized meeting in which they celebrate the collective works of their imaginations?"

The kitsune cocked an ear. "Come again?"

"It's bloody fantastic. I really can't wait to get back to my typewriter at home and write out a report."

"You're losing me."

"I just can't get over how wonderful the place is. I've been told I can't stay after its over, but I just want to explore more of this world. I want to get my paws dirty. To wander into other strange new places that..."

The kitsune punched Regi across the maw, then took the ferret by the shoulders.

"Look me in the eyes, Jacob."

The ferret blinked. Shook himself. Blinked again. "Jacob..."

"Jacob. What's going on?"

"I'm not Jacob. That's my middle name. I like that name though. I guess you could..."

"Come with me."

The kitsune dragged the ferret with him, tipping his hat to any witnesses who had seen him hit the ferret. The con-goers went along their way, deciding it was just a routine they had come into halfway. The pair made it to one of the drinking stations, took a glass of ice water, and splashed it over the ferret's face.

"Who are you?"

The ferrets rubbed his now sopping features. He pulled the paws back and stared at them, then, startled twitching in his whiskers, looked about himself. "Where am I?"

"First tell me who you are?"

"Regi. No...wait...I'm not Regi. Just a moment."

"Jacob."

"That might be it." His eyes widened. "Yes. Wait. What's going on? You!"

"Yes, me. It appears I've miscalculated something."

"You did this to me?"

"Yes, to a point. This change in your personality is entirely unexpected though. You were only supposed to become what your costume was, not become what your character was."

"Why? No, that's too vague. There are so many questions I don't even know where to begin. What's going on? Why do I...I..." the sides of his face twitch, sneaking into a smile, he giggled briefly, chittering giggle, then his face cleared again, "Why can't I think of myself as...J-...Ja-...I'm Regi. Pleased to meet you." He clamped paws over his muzzle.

"I underestimated your level of imagination, Jacob. As you were saying, humans are amazing creatures, capable of much potential and fantastic accomplishment. Look at you. You made this costume, trying to bring a character to life, just for fun. But that character is being made real. Yes, I did do this to you, but something in you is bringing you the rest of the way into this character."

"It's taking all my power to not go over there and muse over that shiny ball of sparks for ten minutes," Regi said, gesturing over his shoulder.

"Would it be any comfort to you to say that you are a ladykiller with that face of yours?"

"I've been told when I stick my blue tongue out when I smile I'm liable to cause girlish squees from any nearby females. So who are you?"

The kitsune shrugged. "Remember what I said when we met?"

Regi facepawed. "You've got to be kidding me."

"Yes, I am a trickster, through and through, but this is not what I was aiming to do. I am not a cosmic creature doing things to make people's lives miserable. I do it for the same reason you costume, just for fun. By the way, you're not a furry, are you?"

"...actually, no. Common misconception though."

"Ah, well, I'll go for poetic irony next time. The point is...Regi. I mean...Regi. Reginald." The kitsune leaned in closer. "Regi Tesla. OK, that is a little weird. Are you still with me?"

Regi nodded. "I know what happened. I just...can't remember things. What is happening?"

"Regi is acclimating himself to this world. He is not some evil spirit trying to take over your body, he's just trying to be himself, and trying to let you be yourself. The problem is, he doesn't know where one ends and begins. You know how writers put a little of themselves into their characters?"

"...yes."

"Therein lies the avenue where the personalities have collided and integrated. Being in Regi's body is not helping settle matters."

"Can't you just turn me back?"

"Yes, you see, there's an issue, it seems that, urm..." Regi noted the kitsune's tails all lowered, as did the kitsune's ears. "Would it be a cop-out to say it's all up to you on how you end up?"

"Yes."

A ringing came from the kitsune's pocket. "One moment." He pulled a russet cellphone out. "Yes? Oh. Beargod, huh? He can't be Mars, that's Roman, that is Death Valley. Urhmm. The armor...and epic sword. You know...I can't...yeah. My vacation time...you can't say that wasn't funny. Yeah. The cleanup. That PETA picnic was asking for it...I thought the skunk thing was...yeah. OK, I'll be there in a few...yeah...ur...I don't...loveyoutoo." He pressed a button with a claw to hang up. "I need to go."

"You can't leave me like this."

"You'll be just fine. I heard Dr. Ralph is taking care of you."

"Wait, what does...?"

"Just be yourself, Regi."

And suddenly the kistune was gone.

O O O

After the kitsune had left, Regi wandered the con in a daze, occasionally perking up to some shiny activity or item, but in general lost in thought. He eventually settled down on a chair next to the elevators, no armrests which made it easier to sit with his tail, creatures here had little to no accommodations for tails. Pulling out pieces he's scourged from his hotel room's complimentary hair dryer and electric shaver, Regi started fiddling with the mass of wires, unpacking tools on the fake wooden end table. Working with his paws helped him concentrate..

None of this made sense. He shook his head. Of course it didn't. He was visiting an alternate dimension set in the far future. If this all made sense, he would have to be worried about his mental status. Still, he sensed something wrong with himself. The conversation with the kitsune had unlocked some things, but no sooner had the kitsune left, had the fractures sealed, leaving him befuddled and twitchy. In fact, his tail still had a nervous tick, almost knocking the cheap lamp off the end table.

Regi started to mutter to himself. "Ah. I wish that kitsune hadn't come and said anything at all. I was having such fun. I'm Regi Jacob Tesla. Why was I saying if he could turn me back? Turn me back to what? So silly. I am a prime example of the extents of genetic manipulation. I just wanna go and try that grilled cheese sandwich again. Those are cool. Wonder why I never had one before."

He viciously twisted coils around the shaver motor. "And what about me being a character? I'm not a character. I'm not. Characters are things in books with ray guns and who go on space adventures and fight off bog beasts. Stuff that would never happen in real life. I am a legitimate creature founded on scientific fact. There is nothing..." The device he fiddled with sparked, shocking him. He mind quirked, just a moment. He sucked on the digit hurt and stuffed the wires and tools back into his bag.

He didn't like being angry, he wanted to be happy, he wanted to enjoy the con, he wanted to meet more people. Regi found his mind embroiled in the seeds of doubt placed in his mind by the kitsune. He growled at anyone who spoke to him. The people laughed and growled back, moving on. The ferret wanted to go home. He wanted to be in his own hammock, in his own little lab, surrounded by his own inventions. Regi didn't want to bother with this idea of being a character and yet he couldn't shake it.

Something caught him, through the edge of his gaze, he paused, first torso, and then legs turning towards the distraction. A wall covered with photos of con-goers, from the first day, just after registration, He snatched at one of the photos, staring slacked jawed the figure it portrayed.

"That your entrance photo?" a voice interrupted, coming from a man in full Spiderman costume and money pouch.

"I...guess."

"That will be ten dollars."

"Oh. Yes." Regi stuck a paw in his pocket, digging for some of the monetary paper had had brought along. He pulled out a couple crumpled fives to the man.

"Nice costume."

"...thanks." Regi couldn't take his attention off the photograph, a 8 x 10 glossy. It showed Regi, though not exactly. It appeared as some strange chractature of Regi, exaggerated in the details, fake looking face, perpetual grin, glazed-over eyes, could see sewed seams on the edges, off-kilter paws holding a fake over-sized pocket watch. The figure was posed in a mischievous salute at the camera. In every way, it was a photo of a person in a ferret hybrid costume. A costume of Regi.

At first, Regi thought perhaps it was just some strange coincidence, but the more he looked, and compared the details of the costume with his own body, the more he knew this was not true.

He was a character.

But if he were a character...who...

The sides met."

"Jacob? Wait, yes, I am Jacob, but I'm also Regi. I thought my middle name sounded familiar. But, is that my real middle name? Oh pufferfish this is odd. I'm Jacob. I know it. I'm Regi, too. This is getting us nowhere. Am I even speaking to myself or...ok, let's just think of his sensibly. I came to this con as Jacob but now I'm Regi but I'm also still Jacob. Ow, my head hurts...I can't even have a proper split personality to sort this out. Am I even alright with this?"

He got on his haunches, and scratched behind an ear with a hind paw, then got up, smoothed his fur, and continued walking.

"I think that odd interlude in itself just screamed both yes and no. This is weird. Just trying to speak this all out. Don't want to think it all out. I'd be liable to explode in a puff of logic or something. For the time being, I think I can stick with calling myself Regi Jacob Tesla. Keeps a good solid...ooo, is that a Red Dwarf signed poster...no, moving on. No shinies. Bad ferret. Uncle Niclov would know what to do. I can't believe I know Tesla and I call him my uncle. There is something so cool about that. I'm accepting this too readily. Oh, fuzzbutt this is absurd."

He pulled out his pocket watch. "And I have dinner with Becca in twenty minutes. Perfect."

O O O

Regi lapped his ice water nervously as he waited for Becca. This would not end well. It wouldn't start well either. He just knew it. Now that he had come to the absurd equilibrium between himself as Jacob and himself as Regi, it seemed that rather anything being solved, it just made everything just more complicated. It didn't help that the Jacob side of himself kept bringing up legitimately worrisome questions which Regi brushed off with a cheerful disposition and equally worrisome answers.

Though still a casual restaurant, he still received a good share of Looks from the restaurant patrons.

"Jacob, I can't say I'm surprised, but, forgive my bluntness, what in Hellgates?"

"Your use of children's literature swearing is quite endearing, Becca," Regi countered, rising to pull out a seat.

"You said you wouldn't be wearing that fursuit."

"And I kept my word."

"Brushing it off as an 'animal costume' is not going to cut it."

"Becca," Regi said, placing a paw over his fuzzy chest where he believed his heart was (was hard to tell with a longer body to deal with, "Trust me."

"I've heard that line just before you've dragged me into some horrifying slash amusing experience."

"Hopefully more of the latter than the prior."

"The jury is still out about that," Becca said, accompanied by an eyeroll and brushing her chestnut hair behind her ears. "I assume this means the convention is going well."

"You could say that. It's come with some complications."

"What, Regi, you got your tail stuck in an elevator door?" She made a face. "...Regi. No. Regi. No, wait...why am I...?"

"Well, my name /is/ Regi Jacob Tesla."

"No it isn't. You're Regi." She looked at Regi, and this time, Regi could tell, she really looked. He twitched his whiskers and let himself smile.

"That...you're..."

"I've heard this routine before. Let me cover the basics," Regi said, spreading his paws, "Yes, I am a real ferret hybrid from a alternate history steampunk era where I have associations with the mad science of genetics and a rising inventor named Nikola Tesla. And..." He rose one digit to keep Becca from interjecting, "I was created by Jacob, a sci-fi / fantasy fan, and my creator, and I also happen to be him. One in the same. Two for one deal. We're still writing up the contracts."

Becca appeared dumbstruck, twisting a napkin in her grip.

Regi rose a paw, "More crackers please!"

"That doesn't make any sense. I've known you since elementary school, there is no way..."

"And yet here I am before you, able to pick my nose with my blue tongue. A sort of blue tongue that even a proper popsicle can't manage."

"And you're alright with this?"

Regi leaned forward and held out his paws. It took a full awkward minute, before Regi could tell his cute face seeped past the logic of Becca's mind and she placed her hands in the ferret's sable paws. "Becca. You are one of my best friends. You know me all too well. I'm compulsive and absurd, I say and do stupid things, and above all, I am always trying to be somewhat normal. Believe me. This is nothing I wanted. This is nothing I dreamed about. And I am scared out of my wits. But at this point, at this moment, I know that I'd never be happy try to be normal, and if being Regi is where I have to go to be not normal...well..." He shrugged. "Being a steampunk ferret hybrid is not a bad way to go."

"This is a lot to take in."

"So, bad time to say government agents are converging on our table?"

"Perhaps."

"Mmm...could I still take out my electric pulse gun?"

"If you want to. Can you really pick your nose with your tongue?"

"Yes."

"That's gross."

"What can say? It's a habit I'm trying to break. But genetically installed instincts, what can you do?"

"So about those government agents..."

"I wasn't going to say anything about them. How did you know?"

"Lucky guess."

Two rather large men in black suits flanked the table.

Regi smiled at the two, not letting go of Becca's hands. "We'll order later, we're having a meaningful moment."

"We are here on behalf of the U.S. Government."

"Well, if you are from the Men in Black, sorry in inform you, I am not from outer space /and/ I hold U.S. Citizenship under the Genetic Creatures Rights Law of 1909. So both definitions of alien do not apply. Of course, that depends upon your views on cross-dimensional law."

"Regi, I'm sure they are just here to check on my highly insidious ferret tattoo."

"D'aww, when did you get that?"

"It was going to be a surprise."

The men in black suits cleared their throats, simultaneously. The one on the left spoke. "We're sorry to interrupt your date."

"Ooo, we're dating?" Regi exclaimed.

"Perhaps. Not at the kissing stage yet. I think we will have to draw the line at nose-nuzzling."

"Shut up!" the man on the right said.

Regi and Becca reluctantly stopped holding hands and settled back in their seats.

"So is this on the horrifying or amusing side, Becca?" he said, looking about for the waitress with potential crackers.

"I think your current ferrety disposition is pressing it to amusing. Though can't be sure. This feels like a strange dream. Is your mood infectious?"

"No, I think we're just being...normal, for us," Regi said, sticking his tongue out at her.

Before anything more dire could proceed in this dinner theater, which most the restaurant patrons now watched, someone called out. "Stop!" All turned, to see Dr. Ralph and a woman, of brunette hair and flowing skirts, walk into the restaurant. The woman continued, "What is going on here?"
The government agents glowered. The one on the left spoke. "We are here on behalf of the U.S. Government to investigate the presence of a foreign lifeform in..."

The woman turned to Dr. Ralph, "Is he serious? You were being serious? And that is a ferret thing."

Dr. Ralph shrugged, "I had a bit of a feeling this would happen. You see, I think that the fabric of our universe is being wrinkled because of the presence of Regi Tesla. The world about him is bending in ways to conform to something out of a science fiction plot, to the point that reality is..."

"No need of the specifics, Ralph. I get the gist. Now, you two. You cannot take that ferret into custody."

"Why not," the man on the right growled.

"Do you have a warrant?"

The men shuffled awkwardly.

"Of course. You don't need a warrant. You come in and clean up, no questions asked. Now I'm here to question you."

"Who are you?" the man on the right countered.

"I am Jess Winters, science fiction writer and I have a PhD in Law. I normally use that in my illegal space alien court drama plots, but considering what Ralph has told me, this is an opportunity I couldn't miss." She walked up to the table and, with a professional edge, tweaked Regi's ears, nose, mouth, and paws, before giving a satisfied nod. "I have gathered documentation on Mr. Tesla to form a case affirming his possession of all rights he had before he became his own character. Now, I need to do further research, but I have the papers here that prohibit you from taking this creature into custody."

She handed a folder over to the man on the left. He took it carefully and leafed through, then handed it over to his partner, who ripped though the documents with a more violent vigor. They shared a glower over the table, then left. Though the man on the right made rude gestures before he exited and muttered a few things that made the fur on the inside of Regi's ears burn. The patrons felt obliged to clap.

After they had left, Jess Winters turned her attention back to Regi. "I am offering my services as your lawyer, do you accept?"

Regi looked the lady up and down. "I can't think of anyone better to represent me."

She suddenly hugged Regi around the neck. "Oh, I always hoped to use my research! I always hoped maybe for a real alien but I shall make do with a ferret. You're so fuzzy! I shall keep in touch." She released, with a wide smile on her face. "Oh, Ralph. I'm going to have so much fun with this. I hope there's a case. I shall work on the papers now. Keep in touch, Regi. I'll have a preliminary report tomorrow." She practically skipped out of the restaurant.

Dr. Ralph turned back to Regi. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm not completely Regi or Jacob now, if that's what you mean?"

"And you're alright with this?"

Regi shot a glance at Becca, then shrugged. "I guess we'll see."

Dr. Ralph sighed and shook his head. "You...will let me poke and prod you for a minimally invasive scientific and biological examination, won't you?"

"I'll think about it. You're giving me the fuzzy tenure ticket look again."

"I can't help it."

"I'll catch up with you tomorrow morning."

Dr. Ralph nodded to Regi and Becca, then exited himself. The two finally looked back at each other.

"That was...interesting," Becca said.

"That's one way to put it, wonder where my crackers got to," Regi said, trying to spy the waitress again.

"So, where do we go from here?"

"Well..." he pulled a device from his pocket, and placed it in the center of the table. "I conjured this up while waiting for you to come. It took me a bit to get it just right, but...this is a wormhole conductor."

"I'm not even going to grace you with asking 'what.'"

"This device can make a condensed wormhole, one capable of transporting me back to my steampunk era...and a friend."

"Wait, that place doesn't exist. You're still a character. There is no way that...and I'm trying to explain this to a six foot tall ferret."

"So, do you want to come?"

"Seriously?"

"Why not?"

"And give up my life. You giving up your life? You can't be serious. This..."

"No, no, no. Just a little vacation. For a few weeks. Well, a few weeks there, only two hours here. You know, traveling through time and space. Has nice quirks there."

"You're trying to catch my inner Doctor Who fangirl, aren't you?"

Regi's ears lowered guiltily. "Yeah, a little."

Becca took one of his paws, giving a devious smile. "You're a little weasel, you know that."

Regi lowered his goggles with a paw. "I prefer 'ferret.'"

He pressed the button.
[[Category:Story]] [[Category:Comedy]] [[Category:Anthropomorphic]] [[Category:Ferret]] [[Category:Mental change]]

The Rise of the Black Tiger

2017-07-13T22:14:52Z

Lem: correct autospell errors

[[Category:Story]] [[Category:Animal]]
{{DEFAULTSORT:Rise of the Black Tiger, The}}
[[Category:Metamor Keep]]
[[Category:Oberon]]
{{editing requested}}{{universe|Metamor Keep}}

By: [[User:Oberon|Oberon]]

It was only four and half hours since I had gotten back to the Keep and I was already prepared to go out again. I had even managed to find a source of temporary black dye that I used to dye my fur jet black. My heavy long range patrol pack was fully loaded with twenty-five spare arrows, ten spare spear-darts for my atlatl, food for two weeks, and the other things that a long range scout needed for patrol operations for two weeks. I checked to make sure that all my weapons were secured to my belts before I closed my door and locked it. I made a point to tell the gate guard at the final gate to the Keep that I was leaving before I headed down the hill into Euper. I quickly made my way through town and headed south towards where my squad had been ambushed. This experience with me losing half of my patrol to a lutin ambush had only served to reinforce my convictions that making superfluous connections to people would only lead to pain and suffering.

The weather was miserable but that suited my mood to a T. Right now I just wanted to kill some lutins, but even at the height of my anger I remembered something that one of my old Swordmasters had told me back roughly forty years ago in my homeland. “A stupid warrior fights with his heart and his emotions, while a smart warrior fights with his mind and his emotions.” What he had meant by that was that any warrior could fight when he was angry, indeed anger could make one foolhardy, but you could use your anger to give focus to your mind, to clarify your purpose. I had taken those suggestions to heart when I was very young and I knew that it made me all that much more dangerous.

It was just before dusk when I found the mutilated bodies of Hernando, Joseph, and Henrietta lying on the ground where they had fallen. The sight of this only further fuelled my anger which had long since grown cold and almost passionless. This was the trick to maintaining a fighting edge with your emotions; you had to make your anger cold and almost analytical so that when the time came to fight you would fight with your mind instead of your heart. I pulled out my folding shovel and dug three rough graves for them before I put them in their crude graves and buried them so that the scavengers wouldn’t have their way with them. They had already suffered one indignity I didn’t want them to suffer another one; they had already suffered enough at my hands. Once that task was complete I took up the trail of the little monsters that had caused their deaths and began to track them using both my eyes and my nose to follow the trail.

After a while I stopped and found a large tree and climbed it before I cached my heavy pack in the tree, so that I wasn’t carrying the full weight around with me when I needed to move swiftly, before I continued to follow the trail. I was right to cache the pack because a short time later, just as full darkness descended I came upon the lutin encampment. Now was the time when my midnight black camouflage came into effect. I climbed into one of the trees that surrounded the camp and to get the lay of the land. This particular band of lutins had been somewhat sloppy in choosing their location for a camp. There was dense trees and forest on all sides. The only thing that it had going for it was the easy access to fresh water, in the form of a nearby stream. I carefully leaned out over the branch that I was standing on and looked down at the trail. As I was expecting the lutins had posted a sentry along the path that I had been following. I looked down at the lutin for a few more seconds before I quietly climbed down the tree and slid my left stiletto out of its sheathe and snuck up behind the lutin and then lunged forward with the knife in my right hand. I caught the monster with my knife at the base of the skull with a crunch of fracturing bone. The lutin sighed and then the full weight of the thing hit my wrist, not that it was a big deal for me. I wrenched the stiletto out of its skull and sheathed it before I pulled the body off of the trail and into the bushes. Just before I left the body I used my sword to remove the head and my dagger to remove the right thumb of the monster. I took the head and the thumb with me. I concealed the head in the branches of a tree and placed the thumb in an empty belt pouch that I was wearing at my side.

I spent a good deal of the next two hours quietly sneaking around the camp killing the sentries and concealing their bodies. I wanted these things to feel fear from the fact that their comrades where disappearing with no apparent cause. Only later would I start attacking them overtly, when they were completely terrified of the woods around the camp. With the ground work laid out I went back to the tree where I had concealed my pack, ate a ration, and sipped some water before I fell asleep with my feet on branch and my back to the trunk. It wasn’t the most comfortable position that I had ever slept in but neither was it the most uncomfortable. I had once slept in a trench that was half full of dirty, muddy water.

When I awoke in the morning the sun was just beginning to rise in the east. I yawned and stretched, as much as my
position high in a tree would allow before I ate another ration and took another sip of water. Once all of that was taken care of I made my way down the tree and headed back to where the lutin encampment was located. As soon as I got a good look at the camp I could tell that they were beginning to feel the effects of my first elements of my campaign of fear on them. They were milling around looking for their missing comrades. Shortly after I arrived two lutins came from a bush where I had concealed the body of one of the dead sentries with the body between them. The whole camp seemed to shudder before one of the monsters shouted

“There be a Long here.” Another monster shouted

“Why would be Longs here? We be well inside their range. All we run into out here is stupid patrols who don’t know muzzle from tail.”

“How you explain that then?” The first one asked pointing at the beheaded corpse of the dead sentry.

“I know not but that no Long, might be some crazy freak Keeper.”

“Can’t be ordinary Keeper, they louder than troll walking through woods.”

“How you known that?”

“They loud yesterday then they must be loud all times.”

“That not true, some of them very quiet, barely hear them until they come up on you.”

“How come they so loud yesterday then.”

“Bull man and human loud, the rest move quietly.”

“Scariest was white tiger man. He move like one who seen a lot war.” I had to muffle my own chuckles at that comment.

“Why didn’t die? I shot him in neck.”

“He wearing some collar on neck. You arrow hit collar not neck, he break arrow off and take charge.” I fingered my magical collar that Misha had sold to me and smiled slightly.

When a group of twenty lutins left the camp, leaving the other fifteen to twenty in camp to guard the camp I followed the patrollers. My plan was to take each one separately from behind with a spear dart or a thrown knife. It was now that I was glad that I had kept in practice with my knives with my almost nightly accuracy contests with Cope at the Deaf Mule. The first lutin that I killed as they patrolled was stupid one who decided to go off of the trail to relieve himself. I quickly relieved him of more than the strain on his bladder; I relieved him of the strain of living with a quick stiletto thrust to the back of the neck at the base of the skull. I even managed to collect his head and thumb before two of his comrades came looking for him. Of course by the time they reached the body I had disappeared into the surrounding trees. As the morning went on I picked off the stragglers until there were no stragglers and the patrol of lutins was traveling in a tight cluster of terrified green skinned monsters. If I had some comrades with my I would’ve gone if for the kill now with my weapons swinging, but since I was alone I didn’t want to risk making any noise. A full out attack now would throw out any chance of stealth so instead of pressing home my attacks I made my way back to my base tree and clambered up it for a snack and an afternoon nap. Now don’t get me wrong I’m not by nature arboreal, but under present circumstances I had found that it was a wise thing to do. Simply put most lutins don’t tend to look up for enemy threats, so this was one place that I could feel comfortable in getting some rest.

When I awoke it was late afternoon. I quickly ate my ration and had a couple of sips of water before I made my way back down the tree and headed, with as much silence at my 445 pound body could to the lutin encampment where I took up station in one of the surrounding trees. By now the lutins were even more terrified of the unknown threat in the trees beyond the apparent safety of their camp. This was what I wanted, the more that they feared me the more that their fear would work for me. Their fear would quickly turn to paranoia at any imagined enemy that they would find including those among themselves. Once again that night they posted their sentries and once again I made progress by killing them all and taking their right thumbs and their heads. When they got up in the morning and found all ten of their night sentries dead the feeling that was in the camp was so strong I could smell it from where I was sitting in a tree overlooking the camp. This was exactly what I wanted, them to fear my very presence in the area. One of the survivors of the previous day’s patrol looked around and shook his head before he said

“This only get worse.” Another lutin spoke up

“What you mean?”

“I mean we all be dead soon if we no leave here.”

“You know what Bammfist will do if we come back before we supposed to.”

“You know what happen to us if we stay, we all DEAD!”

“Fine you go back. Bammfist squish you into bloody pulp with hands.”

“He not that bad.”

“He ogre, he very cruel.” As silently as I could I pulled out my notebook and wrote down the name of Bammfist and the fact that whoever he was he was an ogre, whatever that was. Then I went back to listening to the conversation to see if I could pick up any more information.

“Why he work for Nasoj? Nasoj not winner. He lost winter campaign; he lost campaign seven years ago, he always loosing campaigns.”

“I not know but Bammfist hear that he squish you into bloody pulp then feed bones to devil wolves. Reason Nasoj lose is because evil Keepers stop him from winning. If they not in way then we feast in Pyralis by time snow falls.”

“Why not go round them like we did?”

“If army do that then Keepers stop us from getting food, we starve.” It was apparent even from my point of view that these lutins did have a basic understanding of both strategy and tactics. The were able to get a small patrol past the Keep but anything larger would be spotted and stopped rather quickly. I put a few more notes in my book before their morning patrol left the camp and I shadowed it like I had done with the patrol the day before. However this time it wasn’t quite as easy for me to pick off stray lutins because they were paranoid and thus travelled in a compact mass without any stragglers. The simple reason for this is because if one straggled along behind the main group he would never live to catch up to the rest of the group. Since this was the way things were I went back to my base tree and climbed up it had something to eat and went to sleep.

Later on that evening I once again went back to their camp, this time before their patrol got back and quietly made my way around seeing if I could cause any more chaos without any of them noticing it. At one time they had been able to leave twenty in the camp and patrol with twenty, but now that had changed. There were only seven lutins in the camp, while the rest of them were on patrol. If anything the small number of lutins made things more hazardous for all involved, including themselves. At one point while I was staying perfectly still in a tree a lutin shot an arrow at a moving leaf, causing him to hit one of his comrades in the chest, killing him instantly. This was where the fear and paranoia that I had sowed with my clandestine tactics were beginning to pay off. They were so frightened that they were shooting arrows at ghosts that their minds made up. I knew that in their minds they thought that they were seeing a Keeper behind every tree, rock and hummock of dirt. I was looking forward to the chaos that the return of the patrol would bring because it would be a chance for me to finish off this group once and for all. I wasn’t disappointed because as soon as the patrol arrived in the clearing their terrified comrades began shooting arrows at them because they saw the patrol unit as their hidden enemy. Even though I was up in a tree across from the spreading fight between the two groups of lutins I added a few spear-darts to melee to enhance their paranoia. As the fight degenerated into a shapeless mob of fighting lutins I finally decided that it was time for this black tiger to put in an appearance. I swung down out of my tree, drew both of my swords and began the ‘Sung Dranatk ek Grect.’ Dancing through the depleted ranks of my enemies with grace and power until not one was left alive. When the fight was over I grounded the Claw of the Dragon and looked around. The majority of my enemies had been killed by their own friendly fire, but there was still a goodly number of them that were sheared in half from the power of my cuts with my swords. I carefully wiped the blade of my weapon off on a dirty jerkin that one of the lutins had been wearing before I began the grizzly job of collecting the thumbs and heads of all of the dead lutins in the clearing. When I had collected all of the heads I left the camp for a moment and gathered the other heads that I had already harvested before I returned and stacked the heads into a pyramid with the faces all facing outwards. The reason for this was as a simple and graphic object lesson to any other lutins who thought that coming into the region was a good idea. With all of that done I checked all of supplies that they had brought with them and availed myself of some of the somewhat fresh meat that their hunters had brought in before I arrived and began killing them.

It was dark by the time I left the camp but I still acted with caution because I believed that a few of the enemy may have escaped and gone back to report not only my appearance but also what I had caused. Of course that would both help me in some ways and hinder me in some ways. On the one hand a frightened enemy is easier to trick and demoralize, but on the other hand now that they were aware of what I looked like and what I could do then my tactics might not all work because they could adapt a defense against them. The beauty of my kind of warfare is that it put my opponents minds under tremendous stress, and eventually that stress would cause their minds to buckle and crack like an old rotten stick.

The next morning I took all of my things with me as I began to track two survivors of the encampment that I had just decimated. Their trail was ridiculously easy to follow, I could have followed this trail had I still been human with only one eye. They were sloppy and careless about the trail that they were leaving behind.

Roughly a week later I finally was able to track the lutins to their main encampment. I would’ve been happy if I had been able to begin terrorizing them right away but I was low on supplies so I had to make my way back to the Keep to resupply. My ration pack was empty and I was beginning to feel hungry when I finally arrived in the Keep, four days after I had left the lutin encampment. The first thing that I did after I dropped my pack off in my apartment was go to the nearby mess facility and get some food to fill my growling stomach. Once I had taken care of that immediate desire I went back to my apartment and pulled out a bucket in my forge that was filled with a highly caustic mixture that would strip the flesh from the thumbs that I had collected on my most recent trip out into the wildlands. I quickly dumped all forty thumbs into a wire rack before I dipped it into the bucket. Once that was taken care of I went to bed and thought about what I would do once I was fully resupplied.

The next morning after breakfast I took myself to the baths to clean my fur and my skin, though I didn’t take any of the special soap that I needed to get the black dye out of my fur with me. I enjoyed the bathes and finally an hour after I arrived in the baths I walked out and down the hall. I was just comming around a corner when I almost bumped into the slightly smaller, though still quite sustantial form of George, the Patrol Master, standing int the hallway.

“Well,” He said coldly. “Are you here to stay or do you have more killing to do?”

“I’m here for a couple of days but I’m heading out as soon as I get all of the supplies that I need.”

“I thought so.” He answered in a contemptuous tone of voice. “Care to tell me what’s happened out there so far? Anything important to report?”

“Not really. I just wiped out a camp of lutins southeast of the Keep.”

“Just? How many did you kill?”

“Oh I would estimate that there were roughly forty or fifty of them in that camp. I killed most of them, though I believe that maybe two or three of them may have escaped my final actions.”

“And?” George asked me. “You’re leaving some information out. What else did you find?”

“There’s another encampment four days northwest of the Keep, but I will deal with them in due time. The leader of the encampment is an ogre named Bammfist.”

“I wouldn’t think of stopping your little killing raid Oberon.”

“I would appreciate if you kept your patrols out of my way on all of my trips out there.”

“Are you going to make more piles to scare the lutins?”

“Piles? Oh you mean my object lessons to those little monsters. Those are just reminders to them of what is going to happen to them if they keep trying to raid this far south.”

“Yes I mean the heads. A scare tactic that might work for a little while, but they will get used to it in time.”

“Oh they will get more than that. When they do eventually find the rest of the corpses they will find that besides not having heads the corpses will also be missing their right thumbs.” George shook his head

“First Misha and that stupid collection of ears and now you and your thumbs. Why do people collect trophies like that anyways?”

“I think it’s a warning to others to stay clear of that person and also a way for the person to keep score. You should’ve seen my grandfather with his skull collection. I would’ve enjoyed collecting something like that but thumbs are easier to carry around with you.” He shook his head again.

“It’s a silly habit, and I’ve told Misha that at least a dozen times.”

“Has it caused him to stop collecting ears?”

“Not yet but his fiancé, Caroline, will break him of that habit soon enough!” I shrugged my shoulder and dodged around him before I turned and said.

“I’ll probably be going out tomorrow to deal with that encampment with the ogre. Before I leave I’ll have my full report of my last mission on the desk of your aide for you perusal.”

“Remember Oberon to try and not get yourself killed in the process. Come back alive.”

“Trust me I’m very careful with my own life George, and I’ve done this lots of times in the past. The lutins should be the ones who should worry because I’m going to kill as many of them as I possibly can. My trick is going to be that I’ll kill them without them even knowing I was the one responsible for the deaths.”

“Don’t loose your calm out there cat.” He warned. “Or your anger will lead to your own death.”

“Trust me when I am angry more of them will die. I’ve learned how to funnel my anger into what I do.”

“Be sure that it stays that way my friend. I’ve lost too many friends already in my life time.” I shook my head and turned around and swept my way down the hall towards my apartment where I could check if my caustic solution had finished its job of removing the flesh from my thumb collection.

When I pulled the wire basket out of the solution I was very pleased at the results, because the bones were bleached white by the solution and there wasn’t a single trace of the flesh that had, until recently, covered the bones. I rinsed them off and before I took my smallest drill and began to drill holes in the thickest part of the thumb. Once all of the thumbs had a hole in them I strung them all on a leather thong and then put the newly strung necklace of lutin thumbs around my neck before I headed out for the day to get some supplies. My fletcher had outdone himself and he had two hundred fully prepared long arrows ready for me to pick up at a copper penny per arrow. I handed him his money and then went and picked up a few more things before I went back to my apartment where I struggled to write out my full report of my actions over the past two weeks for George. Even though I didn’t want to trust him with some of the information that I had picked up I included it in my report because I didn’t like shorting any of my reports of information, and he would probably chase me halfway to the Giant Downs to get what I had left out of my report from me.

The next morning, true to my word I left the Keep once more with a full pack and a steady heart to face the threat of the lutins again. This was going to be a lot of fun.

{{series bar
|previous=[[The Ambush]]
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The Rise of the Black Tiger

2017-07-13T22:08:47Z

Lem: correct autospell errors

[[Category:Story]] [[Category:Animal]]
{{DEFAULTSORT:Rise of the Black Tiger, The}}
[[Category:Metamor Keep]]
[[Category:Oberon]]
{{editing requested}}{{universe|Metamor Keep}}

By: [[User:Oberon|Oberon]]

It was only four and half hours since I had gotten back to the Keep and I was already prepared to go out again. I had even managed to find a source of temporary black dye that I used to dye my fur jet black. My heavy long range patrol pack was fully loaded with twenty-five spare arrows, ten spare spear-darts for my atlatl, food for two weeks, and the other things that a long range scout needed for patrol operations for two weeks. I checked to make sure that all my weapons were secured to my belts before I closed my door and locked it. I made a point to tell the gate guard at the final gate to the Keep that I was leaving before I headed down the hill into Euper. I quickly made my way through town and headed south towards where my squad had been ambushed. This experience with me losing half of my patrol to a lutin ambush had only served to reinforce my convictions that making superfluous connections to people would only lead to pain and suffering.

The weather was miserable but that suited my mood to a T. Right now I just wanted to kill some lutins, but even at the height of my anger I remembered something that one of my old Swordmasters had told me back roughly forty years ago in my homeland. “A stupid warrior fights with his heart and his emotions, while a smart warrior fights with his mind and his emotions.” What he had meant by that was that any warrior could fight when he was angry, indeed anger could make one foolhardy, but you could use your anger to give focus to your mind, to clarify your purpose. I had taken those suggestions to heart when I was very young and I knew that it made me all that much more dangerous.

It was just before dusk when I found the mutilated bodies of Hernando, Joseph, and Henrietta lying on the ground where they had fallen. The sight of this only further fuelled my anger which had long since grown cold and almost passionless. This was the trick to maintaining a fighting edge with your emotions; you had to make your anger cold and almost analytical so that when the time came to fight you would fight with your mind instead of your heart. I pulled out my folding shovel and dug three rough graves for them before I put them in their crude graves and buried them so that the scavengers wouldn’t have their way with them. They had already suffered one indignity I didn’t want them to suffer another one; they had already suffered enough at my hands. Once that task was complete I took up the trail of the little monsters that had caused their deaths and began to track them using both my eyes and my nose to follow the trail.

After a while I stopped and found a large tree and climbed it before I cached my heavy pack in the tree, so that I wasn’t carrying the full weight around with me when I needed to move swiftly, before I continued to follow the trail. I was right to cache the pack because a short time later, just as full darkness descended I came upon the lutin encampment. Now was the time when my midnight black camouflage came into effect. I climbed into one of the trees that surrounded the camp and to get the lay of the land. This particular band of lutins had been somewhat sloppy in choosing their location for a camp. There was dense trees and forest on all sides. The only thing that it had going for it was the easy access to fresh water, in the form of a nearby stream. I carefully leaned out over the branch that I was standing on and looked down at the trail. As I was expecting the lutins had posted a sentry along the path that I had been following. I looked down at the lutin for a few more seconds before I quietly climbed down the tree and slid my left stiletto out of its sheathe and snuck up behind the lutin and then lunged forward with the knife in my right hand. I caught the monster with my knife at the base of the skull with a crunch of fracturing bone. The lutin sighed and then the full weight of the thing hit my wrist, not that it was a big deal for me. I wrenched the stiletto out of its skull and sheathed it before I pulled the body off of the trail and into the bushes. Just before I left the body I used my sword to remove the head and my dagger to remove the right thumb of the monster. I took the head and the thumb with me. I concealed the head in the branches of a tree and placed the thumb in an empty belt pouch that I was wearing at my side.

I spent a good deal of the next two hours quietly sneaking around the camp killing the sentries and concealing their bodies. I wanted these things to feel fear from the fact that their comrades where disappearing with no apparent cause. Only later would I start attacking them overtly, when they were completely terrified of the woods around the camp. With the ground work laid out I went back to the tree where I had concealed my pack, ate a ration, and sipped some water before I fell asleep with my feet on branch and my back to the trunk. It wasn’t the most comfortable position that I had ever slept in but neither was it the most uncomfortable. I had once slept in a trench that was half full of dirty, muddy water.

When I awoke in the morning the sun was just beginning to rise in the east. I yawned and stretched, as much as my
position high in a tree would allow before I ate another ration and took another sip of water. Once all of that was taken care of I made my way down the tree and headed back to where the lutin encampment was located. As soon as I got a good look at the camp I could tell that they were beginning to feel the effects of my first elements of my campaign of fear on them. They were milling around looking for their missing comrades. Shortly after I arrived two lutins came from a bush where I had concealed the body of one of the dead sentries with the body between them. The whole camp seemed to shudder before one of the monsters shouted

“There be a Long here.” Another monster shouted

“Why would be Longs here? We be well inside their range. All we run into out here is stupid patrols who don’t know muzzle from tail.”

“How you explain that then?” The first one asked pointing at the beheaded corpse of the dead sentry.

“I know not but that no Long, might be some crazy freak Keeper.”

“Can’t be ordinary Keeper, they louder than troll walking through woods.”

“How you known that?”

“They loud yesterday then they must be loud all times.”

“That not true, some of them very quiet, barely hear them until they come up on you.”

“How come they so loud yesterday then.”

“Bull man and human loud, the rest move quietly.”

“Scariest was white tiger man. He move like one who seen a lot war.” I had to muffle my own chuckles at that comment.

“Why didn’t die? I shot him in neck.”

“He wearing some collar on neck. You arrow hit collar not neck, he break arrow off and take charge.” I fingered my magical collar that Misha had sold to me and smiled slightly.

When a group of twenty lutins left the camp, leaving the other fifteen to twenty in camp to guard the camp I followed the patrollers. My plan was to take each one separately from behind with a spear dart or a thrown knife. It was now that I was glad that I had kept in practice with my knives with my almost nightly accuracy contests with Cope at the Deaf Mule. The first lutin that I killed as they patrolled was stupid one who decided to go off of the trail to relieve himself. I quickly relieved him of more than the strain on his bladder; I relieved him of the strain of living with a quick stiletto thrust to the back of the neck at the base of the skull. I even managed to collect his head and thumb before two of his comrades came looking for him. Of course by the time they reached the body I had disappeared into the surrounding trees. As the morning went on I picked off the stragglers until there were no stragglers and the patrol of lutins was traveling in a tight cluster of terrified green skinned monsters. If I had some comrades with my I would’ve gone if for the kill now with my weapons swinging, but since I was alone I didn’t want to risk making any noise. A full out attack now would throw out any chance of stealth so instead of pressing home my attacks I made my way back to my base tree and clambered up it for a snack and an afternoon nap. Now don’t get me wrong I’m not by nature arboreal, but under present circumstances I had found that it was a wise thing to do. Simply put most lutins don’t tend to look up for enemy threats, so this was one place that I could feel comfortable in getting some rest.

When I awoke it was late afternoon. I quickly ate my ration and had a couple of sips of water before I made my way back down the tree and headed, with as much silence at my 445 pound body could to the lutin encampment where I took up station in one of the surrounding trees. By now the lutins were even more terrified of the unknown threat in the trees beyond the apparent safety of their camp. This was what I wanted, the more that they feared me the more that their fear would work for me. Their fear would quickly turn to paranoia at any imagined enemy that they would find including those among themselves. Once again that night they posted their sentries and once again I made progress by killing them all and taking their right thumbs and their heads. When they got up in the morning and found all ten of their night sentries dead the feeling that was in the camp was so strong I could smell it from where I was sitting in a tree overlooking the camp. This was exactly what I wanted, them to fear my very presence in the area. One of the survivors of the previous day’s patrol looked around and shook his head before he said

“This only get worse.” Another lutin spoke up

“What you mean?”

“I mean we all be dead soon if we no leave here.”

“You know what Bammfist will do if we come back before we supposed to.”

“You know what happen to us if we stay, we all DEAD!”

“Fine you go back. Bammfist squish you into bloody pulp with hands.”

“He not that bad.”

“He ogre, he very cruel.” As silently as I could I pulled out my notebook and wrote down the name of Bammfist and the fact that whoever he was he was an ogre, whatever that was. Then I went back to listening to the conversation to see if I could pick up any more information.

“Why he work for Nasoj? Nasoj not winner. He lost winter campaign; he lost campaign seven years ago, he always loosing campaigns.”

“I not know but Bammfist hear that he squish you into bloody pulp then feed bones to devil wolves. Reason Nasoj lose is because evil Keepers stop him from winning. If they not in way then we feast in Pyralis by time snow falls.”

“Why not go round them like we did?”

“If army do that then Keepers stop us from getting food, we starve.” It was apparent even from my point of view that these lutins did have a basic understanding of both strategy and tactics. The were able to get a small patrol past the Keep but anything larger would be spotted and stopped rather quickly. I put a few more notes in my book before their morning patrol left the camp and I shadowed it like I had done with the patrol the day before. However this time it wasn’t quite as easy for me to pick off stray lutins because they were paranoid and thus travelled in a compact mass without any stragglers. The simple reason for this is because if one straggled along behind the main group he would never live to catch up to the rest of the group. Since this was the way things were I went back to my base tree and climbed up it had something to eat and went to sleep.

Later on that evening I once again went back to their camp, this time before their patrol got back and quietly made my way around seeing if I could cause any more chaos without any of them noticing it. At one time they had been able to leave twenty in the camp and patrol with twenty, but now that had changed. There were only seven lutins in the camp, while the rest of them were on patrol. If anything the small number of lutins made things more hazardous for all involved, including themselves. At one point while I was staying perfectly still in a tree a lutin shot an arrow at a moving leaf, causing him to hit one of his comrades in the chest, killing him instantly. This was where the fear and paranoia that I had sowed with my clandestine tactics were beginning to pay off. They were so frightened that they were shooting arrows at ghosts that their minds made up. I knew that in their minds they thought that they were seeing a Keeper behind every tree, rock and hummock of dirt. I was looking forward to the chaos that the return of the patrol would bring because it would be a chance for me to finish off this group once and for all. I wasn’t disappointed because as soon as the patrol arrived in the clearing their terrified comrades began shooting arrows at them because they saw the patrol unit as their hidden enemy. Even though I was up in a tree across from the spreading fight between the two groups of lutins I added a few spear-darts to melee to enhance their paranoia. As the fight degenerated into a shapeless mob of fighting lutins I finally decided that it was time for this black tiger to put in an appearance. I swung down out of my tree, drew both of my swords and began the ‘Sung Dranatk ek Grect.’ Dancing through the depleted ranks of my enemies with grace and power until not one was left alive. When the fight was over I grounded the Claw of the Dragon and looked around. The majority of my enemies had been killed by their own friendly fire, but there was still a goodly number of them that were sheared in half from the power of my cuts with my swords. I carefully wiped the blade of my weapon off on a dirty jerkin that one of the lutins had been wearing before I began the grizzly job of collecting the thumbs and heads of all of the dead lutins in the clearing. When I had collected all of the heads I left the camp for a moment and gathered the other heads that I had already harvested before I returned and stacked the heads into a pyramid with the faces all facing outwards. The reason for this was as a simple and graphic object lesson to any other lutins who thought that coming into the region was a good idea. With all of that done I checked all of supplies that they had brought with them and availed myself of some of the somewhat fresh meat that their hunters had brought in before I arrived and began killing them.

It was dark by the time I left the camp but I still acted with caution because I believed that a few of the enemy may have escaped and gone back to report not only my appearance but also what I had caused. Of course that would both help me in some ways and hinder me in some ways. On the one hand a frightened enemy is easier to trick and demoralize, but on the other hand now that they were aware of what I looked like and what I could do then my tactics might not all work because they could adapt a defense against them. The beauty of my kind of warfare is that it put my opponents minds under tremendous stress, and eventually that stress would cause their minds to buckle and crack like an old rotten stick.

The next morning I took all of my things with me as I began to track two survivors of the encampment that I had just decimated. Their trail was ridiculously easy to follow, I could have followed this trail had I still been human with only one eye. They were sloppy and careless about the trail that they were leaving behind.

Roughly a week later I finally was able to track the lutins to their main encampment. I would’ve been happy if I had been able to begin terrorizing them right away but I was low on supplies so I had to make my way back to the Keep to resupply. My ration pack was empty and I was beginning to feel hungry when I finally arrived in the Keep, four days after I had left the lutin encampment. The first thing that I did after I dropped my pack off in my apartment was go to the nearby mess facility and get some food to fill my growling stomach. Once I had taken care of that immediate desire I went back to my apartment and pulled out a bucket in my forge that was filled with a highly caustic mixture that would strip the flesh from the thumbs that I had collected on my most recent trip out into the wildlands. I quickly dumped all forty thumbs into a wire rack before I dipped it into the bucket. Once that was taken care of I went to bed and thought about what I would do once I was fully resupplied.

The next morning after breakfast I took myself to the baths to clean my fur and my skin, though I didn’t take any of the special soap that I needed to get the black dye out of my fur with me. I enjoyed the bathes and finally an hour after I arrived in the baths I walked out and down the hall. I was just comming around a corner when I almost bumped into the slightly smaller, though still quite sustantial form of George, the Patrol Master, standing int the hallway.

“Well,” He said coldly. “Are you here to stay or do you have more killing to do?”

“I’m here for a couple of days but I’m heading out as soon as I get all of the supplies that I need.”

“I thought so.” He answered in a contemptuous tone of voice. “Care to tell me what’s happened out there so far? Anything important to report?”

“Not really. I just wiped out a camp of lutins southeast of the Keep.”

“Just? How many did you kill?”

“Oh I would estimate that there were roughly forty or fifty of them in that camp. I killed most of them, though I believe that maybe two or three of them may have escaped my final actions.”

“And?” George asked me. “You’re leaving some information out. What else did you find?”

“There’s another encampment four days northwest of the Keep, but I will deal with them in due time. The leader of the encampment is an ogre named Bammfist.”

“I wouldn’t think of stopping you little killing raid Oberon.”

“I would appreciate if you kept your patrols out of my way on all of my trips out there.”

“Are you going to make more piles to scare the lutins?”

“Piles? Oh you mean my object lessons to those little monsters. Those are just reminders to them of what is going to happen to them if they keep trying to raid this far south.”

“Yes I mean the heads. A scare tactic that might work for a little while, but they will get used to it in time.”

“Oh they will get more than that. When they do eventually find the rest of the corpses they will find that besides not having heads the corpses will also be missing their right thumbs.” George shook his head

“First Misha and that stupid collection of ears and now you and your thumbs. Why do people collect trophies like that anyways?”

“I think it’s a warning to others to stay clear of that person and also a way for the person to keep score. You should’ve seen my grandfather with his skull collection. I would’ve enjoyed collecting something like that but thumbs are easier to carry around with you.” He shook his head again.

“It’s a silly habit, and I’ve told Misha that at least a dozen times.”

“Has it caused him to stop collecting ears?”

“Not yet but his fiancé, Caroline, will break him of that habit soon enough!” I shrugged my shoulder and dodged around him before I turned and said.

“I’ll probably be going out tomorrow to deal with that encampment with the ogre. Before I leave I’ll have my full report of my last mission on the desk of your aide for you perusal.”

“Remember Oberon to try and not get yourself killed in the process. Come back alive.”

“Trust me I’m very careful with my own life George, and I’ve done this lots of times in the past. The lutins should be the ones who should worry because I’m going to kill as many of them as I possibly can. My trick is going to be that I’ll kill them without them even knowing I was the one responsible for the deaths.”

“Don’t loose your calm out there cat.” He warned. “Or your anger will lead to your own death.”

“Trust me when I am angry more of them will die. I’ve learned how to funnel my anger into what I do.”

“Be sure that it stays that way my friend. I’ve lost too many friends already in my life time.” I shook my head and turned around and swept my way down the hall towards my apartment where I could check if my caustic solution had finished its job of removing the flesh from my thumb collection.

When I pulled the wire basket out of the solution I was very pleased at the results, because the bones were bleached white by the solution and there wasn’t a single trace of the flesh that had, until recently, covered the bones. I rinsed them off and before I took my smallest drill and began to drill holes in the thickest part of the thumb. Once all of the thumbs had a hole in them I strung them all on a leather thong and then put the newly strung necklace of lutin thumbs around my neck before I headed out for the day to get some supplies. My fletcher had outdone himself and he had two hundred fully prepared long arrows ready for me to pick up at a copper penny per arrow. I handed him his money and then went and picked up a few more things before I went back to my apartment where I struggled to write out my full report of my actions over the past two weeks for George. Even though I didn’t want to trust him with some of the information that I had picked up I included it in my report because I didn’t like shorting any of my reports of information, and he would probably chase me halfway to the Giant Downs to get what I had left out of my report from me.

The next morning, true to my word I left the Keep once more with a full pack and a steady heart to face the threat of the lutins again. This was going to be a lot of fun.

{{series bar
|previous=[[The Ambush]]
|next=[[A Friend in Need]]
}}

User:Lem

2017-07-13T19:00:30Z

Lem: Self introduction

I've been a science fiction addict and rocket scientist for decades. I am especially interested in hard science fiction, that which could and sometimes did become science fact. Robert A. Heinlein, Dr. Arthur C. Clarke, Dr. Isaac Asimov, David Brin, and Mark Stanley, are among my favourite authors. Author/work suggestions posted as comments to this page would be appreciated.

Unfortunately, I've observed a dearth of hard science fiction in recent decades, as well as an established disrespect for science, and discredit of individuals who espouse reason rather that belief in authoritative pronouncements. I see the events of recent decades in the United States, mirroring the rise of feudalism in Medieval Europe, resulting in the same concentration of wealth, serfdom, economic stagnation and collapse. Still hoping for a non-violent alternative, I'd like to start or see an effort similar to that associated with John Locke. I'd like to see literature that develops mathematics, like Pirates Treasure Division Problem, and otherwise explores what Dr. Isaac Asimov described as psychohistory, to reduce the dark ages.

The Ambush

2017-07-13T18:22:18Z

Lem: correct autospell errors

[[Category:Story]] [[Category:Animal]]
{{DEFAULTSORT:Ambush, The}}
[[Category:Metamor Keep]]
[[Category:Oberon]]
{{editing requested}}{{universe|Metamor Keep}}

By: [[User:Oberon|Oberon]]

My alarm rang and I looked up before I remembered what I had to do today. I had to take my squad of less then competent scouts out on a training patrol south of the Keep. It was a last ditch plan that I had discussed with George the other day. I was going to take the squad out on a patrol south of the Keep and see if a practical approach was a better way to try and get them into the habit of paying attention to my orders. Once I had gone through my normal morning routine I put on my heaviest set of armour, if we ran into the enemy out there I might have to pull some of the members of my squad out of the line of fire and to do that I needed to be confident that I wouldn’t become a casualty myself. Once my armour was on I grabbed my heavy belts and checked my weapons before I slung them onto my body, I had a full quiver of heavy war arrows, plus some more in two barrels up against the walls of my forge. I had actually hired someone to make these arrows for me. I had been too busy in the past two and half weeks trying to train my squad of incompetents and forging George’s new weapons to take the time to make myself more arrows. Therefore I had contracted one of the Keep’s fletchers to make me an even two hundred arrows fitting my personal specifications.

Half an hour later I was standing in the Scout Hall waiting for me squad to come and join me. As usual Shandra was the first one to arrive. She was the only one in the squad that I had any hope for. She was turning into a fine scout, even though her sense of smell and hearing were less well developed than either mine, Hernando’s, or Henrietta. But somehow she managed to compensate for that with her excellent sense of sight. In fact I wasn’t too proud to admit that in some ways her eyesight was even better than my own. She could pick up on small movements and details even better than I could. My eyesight was pretty much the same as it had been before I had changed, though my night vision had gotten better. Shortly after everyone else arrived in the room I went up to the front of the room and began the briefing

“Today, since we’ve had such limited success in training here I’m giving you one last chance to shape up. If this doesn’t work I can promise that several of you will be out of the Patrol Corps.” They all looked at each other before I continued, “This will be a simple patrol south of the Keep. You are lucky because I managed to convince George to let me try this instead of simply tossing your sorry xter’a onto wall duty. If you even step even one inch out of line on this op I swear that you will be on wall duty so damn fast that it will make your head spin. DO YOU GET ME?!” The all stiffened at my last shouted words before they responded as one

“SIR YES, SIR.” I nodded

“Very well, lets get moving. We're burning daylight.” They all followed my lead out of the Hall down to the main gates into the town on Euper. When we reached the gates the two guards stepped in front of us and the first one said

“Please identify yourselves.” I stepped forwards and held out a piece of paper

“I am Scout Lieutenant Naharel with the 65th Patrol Unit and this is my unit here behind me.” The senior guard looked behind me and then nodded his head before he told me to move on. I led my unit out of the town and down the hill to the south to where we would engage in our training patrol.

By the time that night rolled around I was completely disgusted with the unit. They were still not paying enough attention to what I was telling them even though it could save their lives. After several minutes I pulled my new notepad, I had just purchased it the day before and wrote down some notes. These notes were in effect sealing the fates of four members of this unit. They would be relegated to normal infantry duties as soon as we arrived back at the Keep tomorrow. I didn’t like to do this to a person but under the circumstances I believed that I didn’t have any other choice in the matter. When I was finished with my notes I slowly ate my ration and watched as the others joked and laughed about me being a ‘a real hard case.’ I actually heard Hernando say

“If his rear end was any harder it would be made of metal.” Joseph laughed at the comment before he replied

“Are you sure that it isn’t already made of metal?” I didn’t do anything about them, not only because I was really unconcerned about their opinions but because they weren’t going to be my problem for very much longer. I set up a watch roster but in the end I really didn’t get all that much sleep that night. I didn’t have a lot of faith that this squad would follow that roster at all.

The next morning I made breakfast while the other members of the squad rolled themselves out of their tent and complained of the damp conditions. There was a fine drizzle coming out of the lead grey sky, which boded well for a perfectly miserable day. The entire squad was somewhat reluctant to move out after morning chow, I could understand the reason why but I still gave to order to move out. We had some terrain to cover and I would prefer if we didn’t have to spend any more time in the rain that we absolutely had to. As we walked along in the path Hernando grumbled

“I wish this thrice cursed day was over so that I could get back to the Tipsy Lady for some serious refreshment.” I was in the middle of pulling out my pad of paper when a whistling sound interrupted me. I ducked almost instantly only to feel something thump into my neck. This was it, there was no getting away from a neck wound. The funny thing was that it didn’t hurt at all I reached up and touched the arrow and then chuckled a little to myself and pulled it out of my collar that Misha had made for me. All around me there was chaos as I saw both Hernando and Joseph were both down with arrows in their necks. Shandra had several arrows sticking out of her natural armour and Henrietta was laying on the ground with an arrow protruding from her left leg. The only other member of the patrol, Simon was hiding behind a tree and looking at the patch of bushes where the arrows were coming from. I looked around at the two other survivors and shook my head before I grabbed my own bow from its case on my back and strung it before firing four arrows at the place enemy arrows were coming from. The reaction of the hidden enemy was a pair of screams and a hail of arrows that allowed me to estimate that there was a force of maybe twenty to thirty lutins hiding behind the bushes. Just then another hail of arrows from other side joined the first hail and I knew that we had no choice but to get the hell out of there.

“Shandra, Simon fall back one hundred feet and regroup!” I roared out before I ran over to grab Henrietta from where she was laying on the ground with two more arrows sticking out of her body. She looked up at me and then coughed and her eyes clouded over in death. I shook my head and I felt that I wanted to turn and attack the oncoming lutins but I was responsible for the survival of the rest of my patrol group. So I turned and ran back the way that I had sent the survivors of my group. When I got there I found both Simon and Shandra standing with there hands on their arms panting for breath. I looked at both of them before I asked them, “Are you going to be able to keep running like this?” Simon looked up at me and replied

“Sir I don’t know if you had noticed it but both of us aren’t really all that well adapted for long distance running.”

“Do you really think that has stopped me at all? My form isn’t one that is designed for endurance either but I seem to be able to cope with it pretty well.” Shandra said nothing but I could tell that she was also getting tired. “Shandra do you think that you will be able to keep up with me if I jog for a little while? We have to get out of here before the lutins reach our position.” She nodded

“Sir I think that I’ll be able to run as far as you will, but sooner or later I will need to stop and get something to eat.”

“I fully understand that. Simon, I want you to go down to your smallest form so that I can carry you since you’re having a tough time of things.” His face coloured but he knew that he had to obey the order. He reached into his pack and pulled a couple of things out of it before he got out of his light armour and clothing and shifted down until he resembled nothing more than a human toddler. I shook my head and Shandra, knowing what to do moved in and quickly dressed him before I picked up his things and him and began to jog. We appeared to be just in time since the lutins were obviously moving in. Two and half hours later we arrived at the Keep and I put Simon down on the ground and headed towards my quarters where I would write out a brief report to George, though I would have to summarize it to him in his office. I removed some of my patrol gear before I headed for his office, report in hand. When I got there his aide tried to block my way but I simply pushed the small man out of the way and walked on into the office.

“George!” I growled in a menacing tone “We were ambushed.” George remained seated but looked up into my smoldering eyes with clear worry mirrored in his own eyes.

“Sit and tell me what happened?” I remained standing and paced around as I replied

“This morning in the rain we were ambushed, the rain kept the scent of our ambushers from reaching our noses. Hernando was on the point, and as usual he was making far too much noise. I was lucky because I was paying attention but I still took an arrow in the neck. However, that arrow only took me in the collar so I was uninjured. Hernando, Joseph, and Henrietta were all killed in the initial, and subsequent volleys. After I realized that the situation was untenable I called for a retreat and Shandra, Simon, and I managed to pull out without sustaing any injuries.”

“Who’s dead?” George asked calmly

“Hernando Gomez, Joseph Paulson, and Henrietta Wright.” George nodded.

“It was bound to happen. How are you feeling about this?” I growled in barely suppressed rage

“I want to go out there an hunt those little monsters down is how I’m feeling, and may the gods have mercy on those who get in my way!”

“You will see to your people first. THEN you will write your report before getting some rest.”

“I have no intention of letting those little green THINGS get away with this. I am going to hunt them down and kill them, ALONE.” I roared out at almost full volume.
“That was not a request Oberon.” George said quietly “You aren’t fit to go out there right now. When you are rested, then you can go out.” I looked at him eyes blazing before I let vent to a fearsome growl before I said

“If you don’t let me go out there I will do so myself, without your authorization if I have to.”

“I said that you can go out, but after you see to your people and get some rest. Or don’t you care about the welfare of your people?”

“I have already see the two of them to Coe’s Healer Hall, and here,” I tossed my written report onto his desk “, is my report. I will be leaving presently, and don’t get in my way or you will regret it.” Finally George seemed to sigh in defeat before he said

“All right Oberon. Go have your revenge, but report back here when you’re tired of killing things.” I grinned at him in utterly vicious manner before i turned and swept out of the room with my grey battle cloak flapping in the breeze of my passage. Those little monsters were going to quickly learn that they had just angered a force of nature. In the back of my mind I almost felt pity for the poor things.

{{series bar
|previous=[[The Bottom of the Barrel]]
|next=[[The Rise of the Black Tiger]]
}}

The Bottom of the Barrel

2017-07-13T17:54:05Z

Lem: correct autospell errors

[[Category:Story]] [[Category:Animal]]
{{DEFAULTSORT:Bottom of the Barrel, The}}
[[Category:Metamor Keep]]
[[Category:Oberon]]
{{editing requested}}{{universe|Metamor Keep}}

By: [[User:Oberon|Oberon]]

I woke early in the morning feeling much better than I had yesterday, considering what Donnie had done to the day before. Then I remembered why I had to get up so early and my good mood partially vanished. I had to go work my former squad into shape so that they could actually be of some use to Patrol Master George. fifteen minutes before six-o-clock I arrived in the Scout Hall, I had always believed that it was best if the leader of the unit was there before the rest of his troops arrived. The first arrival in the room was someone who I didn’t recognize. She was roughly five feet tall with a tan body, in general I would say that he looked like a walking cactus from the southern desserts. On the front of her torso she wore a thin layer of armour, but she didn’t need any armour on her back because her body was naturally armoured against attack from the rear. I was now wearing a small medallion on either shoulder beside my existing medallion with my Kelmar rank of Bladelord. The new medallions displayed the crossed swords of a lieutenant of Metamor Keep. The new soldier looked up at my shoulders and then smiled and said

“Sir I am Shandra Holmes.” I looked down into her eyes before I smiled and then replied by asking

“How long have been in the service of the Duke of Metamor Keep?” She smiled softly and answered me

“I’ve lived here all my life with my family, but I just recently got called up to join the service” I groaned and shook my head, my unit was either made up of incompetents or neophytes. “Sir I’ve been working with Jack DeMule for the past two years. He’s told me that I’m actually pretty good, though I still need some practice.” I sighed slowly

“I certainly hope that you’re up to this because I’ll be pushing you and your new comrades pretty hard in order to get them into shape.” I was just finished saying that when Hernando came into the room. He looked over and saw me before he asked me

“What is this all about?”

“What this is about Hernando is that you are here for retraining and from this point foward you will refer to anything that moves as sir or ma’am, is that clear.” As I was saying that I stepped forward and reached out and removed the the medallion on his shoulder that had the mark of a NCO, namely a single sword pointed upwards. “From now until I deem that you are ready for action you will wear no rank markings what so ever. Shortly afterwards the rest of the unit arrived and I went through the same procedure with them. When I was done I had them all line up at attention. I said

“All of you have less than sufficient skills when it comes to being in the patrol service of the Keep so therefore from this point on until George says that you are ready you will be under my command and you will be training six days a week until I say otherwise.” Barbara looked at me with undisguised contempt before she said

“How in the name of Eli did you manage to gain my old rank in less than three months?” I looked at her for a moment.

“I managed to gain this rank through hard work, innate skills, and knowledge. Three things that you don’t really have much of a supply of, though in the next month or so I can tell you that you will learn those things because you will learn them from me.” She shook her head softly before I continued “Now everyone we’re going to go and run around the outer curtain wall five times in full kit. They all groaned as they stood up as I shouted “Alright lets get our tails moving.” Before I chivvied each of them into formation and began to lead them towards the nearest exit

Two hours later I stood by the practice field and watched while they sparred with practice weapons I was observing their technique to see where it could be improved. I took a few notes in my note-pad, which I stowed in my belt pouch before I stood up and went over to where they were practicing. I picked up my own pair of Gatraibvan practice swords and walked up to where Barbara and Hernado were sparring with limited enthusasim.

“Alright everyone I’ve seen all of your skills and I can tell you that you aren’t all that skilled with the use of your weapons. Now I want all of you to try and touch me with them.” I quickly set myself up and they attacked me with a lot of vigor, but little skills. Over the next few minutes the person who came closest to touching me was Shandra Holmes.

At One-o-clock in the afternoon I dismissed them and went up to George’s office to give my initial report on the condition of the unit that I been given command of

“Sir I can tell you that the unit will need a lot of time to get their skills up to the level where they would be a use to the Keep.” George laughed

“And this is a surprise to you? How long do you need?”

“My original estimate is going up by two weeks. The best member of the squad is that Spike Lizard Shandra Holmes and she’s new to the service.” The jackal’s tail wagged.

“Good! I was hoping that she would be good. That’s why I assigned her to your unit.”

“Well she did tell me Jack was the one that gave her some intial training.”

“Good. Any of the others show any merit?”

“None that really stand out, Barbara and the old cadre spend most of their time resenting my presence and my authority over them. They are trying to make my life as difficult as they can, but if I have your permission I can make their life even more miserable until they shape up.”

“What do you want to do?” George asked me seriously

“Perhaps the best solution would be to split the whole cadre up, but barring that I would suggest some nasty little barrack duties that I haven’t really had a chance to assign for a long time, we could give them a chance at latrine duty for a couple of weeks, or something equally nasty.” George gave a little chuckle

“That’s a good idea. We have plenty of nasty tasks for them to do.”

“The only problem is that they gain strength from each other when they get off for the day and go to the Tipsy Lady.”

“I can shuffle them around, Barbara I can send far to south for a few weeks. They need some help down by the southern mouth of the Valley.”

“That solves one problem but one thing remains how do we keep the rest of them out of that cheap bar?”

“Aside from closing the bar?”

“Yes aside from closing that bar.”

“I could restrict them to their quarters for a few weeks. That might work.”

“That might be a novel thing for some of the members of the unit, to wake up without a hang over.”

“Be a first for many of them in years!”

“Hernando is the biggest offender in the unit, this morning his mouth smelled like a re-opened grave and his eyes were so bloodshot that I couldn’t even see the whites.”

“If he doesn’t learn to sober up he will be in an open grave. He either shapes up or he is dumped as a scout.”

“I’ll give you a progress report in three days, and if there is no improvement we should have a contingency plan.”

“All right. But if they show no improvement they’ll be shipped straight to a infantry unit and spend the rest of the year walking guard duty.”

“Sounds like a plan sir. By the way how have things been going here?”

“Good. We lost a lot of people during the Yule Attack but we are recovering. We need good scouts like you Oberon.”

“I’m doing the best that I can sir with what you’ve given me.” George nodded

“I know. Just do your best and we’ll take care of you.”

“What are you going to do about the people who actually don't belong in the scout unit.”

“I AM the scout leader. If I don’t want someone in the patrol service then they aren’t a scout. As simple as that, my word is law as far as this in concerned.”

“I was thinking of Shandra, she actually shows some promise, just like Daniel. I think that he’ll do fine where he is now.”

“All right. I’ll give you a month Oberon. After that – those who show promise will stay.”

“Thank you sir.” I told him before I turned and said “Now if you don’t mind sir I have to go to my forge unless you want to wait more time for your new weapons.”

“All right Dismissed!” He barked and I headed out of the room and went to my forge where I removed my armour and equipment and began working, once more, on the sword that I was making for George.

For the next week the pattern was the same though I despaired at teaching my squad anything. They were pathetic. Even the replacement for Barbara was no better than that woman had been. He was yet another TG, but this time it was a person who had been a woman and had been turned into a man. His name was Joseph Wright and he was a complete lack-wit when it came to his skills with his chosen weapons. It might’ve helped it he didn’t choose such a large weapon. He was enamoured of a five pound great axe and I couldn’t convince him that a single-handed broadsword would probably have suited him a lot better than the axe. The best that I could get from him was for him to bear one as a back up weapon.

The evening of my fourteenth day with my incompetent patrol group I went into the Deaf Mule and walked up to Donnie.

“Donnie can I have that same drink that you gave me last time, but can you reduce the strength by eighty percent?”

“Sure thing Oberon. What’s got your tail in a knot recently?” Donnie asked as he mixed my drink.

“Oh it’s nothing really its just the squad that I’ve been given by George to train. I’m beginning to despair of teaching them anything.”

“That doesn’t sound good.”

“No it isn’t but I am going to do my best for their sakes. I don’t like to lose troopers, even if they are a little hard in the head.” Donnie shook his head and handed me my drink and watched as I went over to where Cope was shooting pool.

“Hey lizard lips did you want to shoot darts with me tonight.” He looked up at me and said

“Give me a second I have to beat this guy at pool. He’s been trying to beat me at my own game for more than two years and he still has to learn that this is my table.” I laughed in a stiff manner,

“Well you don’t own that dart board anymore so you’ve got to have something to own.”

“That really doesn’t count Oberon since you insist on using your knives when we throw, when you use darts to beat me consistently then I will consider that dart board to be yours.” I shook my head and went over to the dart line, pulled out my three knives and considered them laying on the table and then pulled three darts out of the board and went over to the line. I would practice with darts while Cope was playing pool, and once I was confident in my ability to hit the bull’s eye consistently I would begin using darts all of the time. Until then I would continue to use knives in my games against him. I was able to toss the three darts for ten more minutes before Cope came up beside me and said,

“Are you trying to learn how to beat me you big kitty cat?”, with a wry smile on his lips. I looked over at him and replied

“Don’t you know it lizard lips.” Before I picked up my first throwing knife and chucked it at the board.

We played three times, I won twice and he won once that evening. He told me that he would get me for that before I headed home for the evening. When I got home I stopped in my forge and picked up the completed set of weapons that I had just finished this afternoon. There was the sword, a single edged cutlass with a double edged tip, that was meant for use with one hand, a double edged dagger, and lastly the belt and scabbards for both weapons. Tomorrow I would give George his new weapons and tell him of the plan that I had in mind for trying to shape my troops up. This was my last idea and I hoped that it would work because I was running out of patience.

The next morning I picked myself out of bed and got dressed in my full non -patrol day kit. Before I left my room I grabbed the brand new set of weapons and headed for my favourite mess facility where I could get something to eat. As I ate I looked around the room and then settled back to write a note in my notebook. I was going to have to get a new one pretty soon because this one was just about full of my tight angular script. One thing I was confident of was the fact that if I ever misplaced this little book no one would be able to make heads or tails of it because it was written in my own language.

Fifteen minutes later I arrived and George’s office and placed both his new weapons set and and a sheaf of papers on the desk in front of him. The sheaf of papers contained my report, written in painstaking common tongue, and my recommendations of what to do. He looked at the sheaf of papers on the desk for a second before he said

“Can you please summarize what’s in that for me please?” It was then that I remembered that he couldn’t read or write, which wasn’t all that uncommon of a problem on this continent. Though in my homeland reading and writing were almost universal, even the lowest class citizens were able to read and write so that they could understand the edicts of the Clanlords who ruled over them.

“Well sir I’m running out of ideas on how to get this group to wake up and actually work on their skills. They are only a little better than the last time I talked to you about this issue. If you wanted to, you could use them south of the Keep but other than that, I’m almost at a lose for ideas what do with them. Believe me I’ve tried as hard as I can to get them to shape up.”

“So you’ve given up on them? George asked with a slight tone of disgust in his voice

“No sir. I’m prepared to give them one more chance, and believe me they’ve tried my patience for the past two weeks. I was thinking that I might take this horrid little assembly of wannabes out of the keep on a training patrol to the south of the keep where it is, for the most part, fairly safe.” George nodded

“Good idea Oberon. A little romp in the woods could help them get their heads on straight.”

“However, if they don’t straighten themselves up out there I’m going to have to give them over to you to do with what you will.”

“Fair enough. At some point we just have to get rid of those who don’t measure up and move on.”

“That is precisely what I was thinking sir. There must be a point in any operation where you must simply cut your losses and start over again.”

“If they show no improvement after this patrol I’ll reassign them and give you new people to train.”

“Yes sir.” I replied before I indicated the other items on the desk besides the sheaf of papers that my report was written on and said, “There you go sir. Perfectly designed and balanced for you own uses, a blade of highest quality.” George picked up the weapons and examined them before commenting.

“Nice. Fine Craftsmanship.” He slowly drew the sword from its scabbard, “Nice balance and feel to it Oberon.”

“I certainly hope that you like it sir. It has taken me two weeks of afternoons and evenings to make that blade for you.”

“Impressive work for such a short amount of time.” George stood up and performed a few test swings with the blade. “Nice balance and feel to it.”

“Sir it is designed for your own personal use. I doubt that everyone would have the same opinion of it as you do.”

“I don’t care about other people’s opinions when it comes to my weapons. The one opinion that matters in this case is mine! and I love this sword.”

“Do you like the by-knife and the dagger sir?” I watched as George slowly examines the other two blades.

“They all look like fine work. The edges are razor sharp too! I like that in my knives!” He takes a piece of scrap paper and cuts it in half with the dagger. I pulled out my own dagger and handed it to him, hilt first, and said

“I made this dagger thirty two years ago. Compare it with your new dagger that I just gave you.” George took my dagger from my hand and compared the two of them

“Nice!”

“Can you detect any difference between those two blades, other than the fact that mine is a little heavier?” George hefted the two blades

“I can’t detect any difference. These two daggers are virtually identical. This is the sign of a fine craftsman!”

“To my people that is a sign of a Blademaster of the Gold, if a Blademaster can repeat his weapons in exactly the same manner and quality twice in two years then he is considered a Blademaster of the Gold.”

“It’s the sign of a master swordsmith here too! A weapon like this would command a very high price if you ever chose to sell one.” He mentioned before he handed my dagger back to me.

“I’m not really sure about that, I’m willing to sell to people who live here but why would I want to sell to people who someday might try and fight me with my own weapons?”

“I never really expect you to sell things like this. I was just explaining...”

“Explaining that I could earn a lot of money selling blades like these.”

“Don’t be insulted. A person needs to survive, even Misha makes clocks on his off time.”

“Oh I don’t know, but for now selling blades to people in the Keep should allow me to survive for a while, besides what I earn by working as a patrol scout.”

“One little trick I learned is to always please the leaders. If you were to give a blade like this,” He indicated his new sword with a hand “, to the Duke it would gain you some notice as a swordsmith of the highest calibre.”

“I’ll keep that in mind sir. By the way do you know what kind of weapons he prefers to use?” George laughs

“Ironically he’s a fairly good rider and good with a lance, but he prefers a sword.”

“What kind of sword would you suggest sir?”

“A good long sword and a dagger to match.”

“So I should make a set that is similar to what I used before I came here to the Keep. Are you able to get a hold of his dimensions so I can make a proper weapon for him?”

“His dimensions? What do you need? I’m no tailor to be measuring the stallion.”

“I just need his arm length and his height, the rest I can ad-lib as I go along.” George was silent for a moment

“I might be able to get that information from one of his servants.”

“That is all that I will need. Can I get the information from you when I get back from my patrol in a couple of days?”

“Sure. I’m speaking with the Duke tomorrow. I’ll ask some of my friends while I’m there in the palace.”

“Thank you sir. If that is everything, I have to be going, after all I have to be sure that I have everything ready for tomorrow’s patrol.”

“Very well you’re dismissed.” I nodded in thanks and headed out of the room to my own apartment where I began to get my things together. I had a lot of things to take care of if I was going to be able to go out in command of a patrol tomorrow. I looked at the map that George had given me so that I could guide my patrol with a reasonable level of confidence. The map was not only very precise it was also, as he had told me, water-proofed and wear resistant.

“That is so that none of my patrol commanders lose there way out there.” I had nodded in understanding before I had taken a look at the map. Now I was regarding the map with a certain degree of interest. I had to make certain that I showed my patrol that they had to work together and that being in a patrol wasn’t like being a simple infantry grunt. At the end of the day I went to bed early because I was going to have to get up early, with being in command of a patrol for the first time.

{{series bar
|previous=[[A Swing at the Mule]]
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A Swing at the Mule

2017-07-13T16:57:35Z

Lem: correct autospell errors

[[Category:Story]] [[Category:Animal]]
{{DEFAULTSORT: Swing at the Mule, A}}
[[Category:Metamor Keep]]
[[Category:Oberon]]
{{editing requested}}{{universe|Metamor Keep}}

By: [[User:Oberon|Oberon]]

I looked up at my ceiling and luxuriated in the feeling of a clean bed under my back. Yesterday after I had gotten back from our raiding mission I had spent more than an hour in the bath-house cleaning all of the blood from my fur until the white and black stripes almost shone. I looked over at the clock on my desk and then realized that I had to get up quickly because I really didn’t want Caroline to come in on me while I was still wearing nought but my fur. We had both agreed that she was to come by here at nine-o-clock in the morning and it was already eight fifty-five. I quickly shrugged into a basic kilt and tunic before there was a knock at the door. I quickly opened the door and found myself standing over the otter morph just as she was in the act of raising her hand to knock on the door again.

“Good morning! I am on time and ready for my fitting!” I managed to smiled before I said

“I’m glad to see that someone around this place believes in showing up on time. Come in, come in.” I gestured with one of my hands inviting her into my apartment. “Pardon the mess I just got up, I was enjoying my bed this morning, much better than a tree trunk in the forest while the commander makes plans with Finbar the ferret.” Caroline stepped into the room before she turned and asked me

“Why exactly do I need a fitting for a sword?”

“Like I told George my weapons are custom built for their weilders, they are exactly balanced for the use of the person who contracts me to forge them. For instance have you seen the set that I made for Misha?” She nodded her headstrong

“Fine weapons! What exactly do you want me to do? Just hold still?”

“Yes that is exactly want I want you to do. But come on into my forge and I’ll take care of it all as quickly as I can.” I led her past my desk with the clock and my journals on it. I noticed her looking at the clock and joked “Like my clock?” She laughed and wiggled one of her ears before she replied

“It looks familiar. Did my cute foxy make that for you?”

“Yes he said that it was one of his collaborations with one Will Hardy, the Keep Jeweller.” Caroline let out a delighted chitter before she said

“You mean my father Will Hardy! That’s how Misha and I met in the first place.”

“Are you meaning to tell me that you met Misha when he started working with your father making these clocks?” The otter nodded her head

“Yes he came into my father’s shop looking so handsome in his armour.” I smiled and pointed at my own armour which was sitting on its rack in the corner of my forge

“What do you think of that armour over there?” She glanced over at the flat black armour before she replied

“Good looking. Not as handsome as Misha’s. Is there anything special about it?”

“Well other than the fact that I made it myself more than thirty years ago there area few things about it that make it better than your standard armour. Even though I’ve had to repair it more times than I can count during my time as a mercenary. It is actually superior to most types of armour that I’ve run into though there are probably some kinds out there that are better. I picked up the chest and back piece and held it out for Caroline to see. She reached out with a hand and stroked the left metal chest plate

“It’s certainly seen some hard use, and it’s held up very well considering all that it’s been through.” I turned around and placed the armour back on it’s rack, picked my measuring string off of its hook in the wall and asked Caroline

“Can you hold out your arms so that I can get a good measurement of your arms, hands, and body?” She held out her arms and tried to remain still as I quickly measured her arms, her hands, and her height before I went over to the wall where I had several spare short-swords and picked one off it’s hooks before I handed it to her. “How does this weapon feel? It’s not really designed for you but it might be relatively close to your requirements. If you want you can use it until your own weapon is ready.” She unsheathed the weapon and tested it in her hand before she said

“The balance is good but the weight is a bit too much for my liking. Would you let me try another.” I took the sword from her and replaced it in its scabbard before I rehung it and looked around at my collection, finding two likely candidates I pulled them down and held them out to her. They were both old weapons that I had forged many years ago when I was still back in my homeland. She tested both weapons before she held out the one that I was most proud of and said “Both of these weapons are fine swords but this one here feels about right for me.” I grinned and handed her the scabbard and belt that went with the weapon. She sheathed the blade and strapped the belt around her waist before I stated

“When I get your weapons finished I will need a way to contact you.”

“I’m always at the Long House. If you can contact Misha just leave a word with him.”

“Ok now that that’s out of the way when can I expect to receive payment for your new blade?”

“How about half tomorrow and the rest when your done?”

“That is acceptable Caroline, I trust you because I believe that you have a sense of honour like your consort, Misha.” She smiled and then leaned over and planted a small kiss on my muzzle just below my sensitive nose pad

“Thank you Oberon.” I felt the blood run up the insides of my ears and to the tip of my nose before I replied

“It’s not really a big deal.” She shook her head

“Honour means a lot to me and Misha. Even if he’ll never admit it openly.”

“That was the first thing that I admired about your consort, his sense of honour.”

“Thank you. Misha loves to play the outsider with no honour sometimes, but even George has honour of a sort.”

“That old cutlass, I’ve known that old man for longer than you would believe.”

“You knew him before he came here?” She asked “I think that old bandit knows everyone.” I laughed at her expression

“We met back more than a decade ago while we were working off in the Pyralin Confederation messing around with the removal of some nobleman.” She shook her head

“Nothing surprises me about that old jackal anymore.”

“I can tell you one thing, that guy has definitely been around the Midlands for a long time.”

“Misha says that George has been everywhere and done everything.” She explained. “And I believe him completely.” I laughed slowly before I said

“One of these days you’ll probably find me and George at the Deaf Mule sitting around trading old war stories for the fun of it.”

“Now THAT is something that I’d love to listen to. George can really tell some great stories.”

“I have my own fare share of stories, more than fifty years of warefare will give you a lot of stories to recount.”

“I bet! You have to tell them to us someday.” I moved around her and hung the other sword on its hook before I pointed out

“Well right now I believe that I have to go shopping for some iron because,” I indicated the barrel that I used to hold my iron supply, which was notable because it was empty “, I currently am out of the stuff and it’s hard to make swords without iron.” She wiggled an ear before commenting

“Thankfully iron is cheap here. There are several iron mines in the south of the valley.”

“How good is the quality though?” She shrugged

“I don’t really know iron, but Misha uses the local iron a lot and he’s happy.”

“I’ll take that as a recommendation, never the less I will take my own testing fork with me. Now if you don’t mind I need to get dressed properly so that I can go out in public. I indicated my thrown on clothing with a hand while I used the other to pick my testing fork off of it’s wall hook.

“All right. No harm in being safe and testing what you buy. Misha does it to. He always says’ if I’m spending all this money I want to be sure of what I am getting.”

“Well that is the way I am.” I told her as I exited the forge and headed for my closet. “I’ve seen far too many people who will take something at face value. Personally I’ve been around for far too long to fall for something like that.” She nodded at my wisdom before she headed out the door

“I’ll see you later Oberon.” she chirped closing the door behind her. I shook my head to clear some of the thoughts from my head. That was one good looking female, but she was already spoke for in that respect.

Once I was dressed I made my way to my usual breakfast spot where I made quick work of my breakfast before I headed down to Euper to see if I could find myself a supplier of iron for my forge. After twenty minutes I found myself in front of shop that advertised that it was ‘Mack’s General Supplies, Where People come when they want something.’ I stepped through the door and found myself facing a small rodent of a man with a clearly avaricious look on his face. He looked up and me and put on a pleasant expression before he said

“Good morning sir! How may I help you today?” I look him up and down and finally answered him in a business-like manner.

“I’m looking for roughly fifty pounds of high quality raw iron.”

“Raw iron I have. It comes in 5 pound bars at 2 suns per bar.”

“Can I see what you have? I want to test these bars myself for quality.” I said as I pulled out my testing fork.

“Of course sir.” He shouted into the back room summoning a young boy who he told to watch the shop. Then he said “If you’ll follow me sir.” before he made his way into the back room which was full to ceiling with various things. I looked around in the dim light of the back room, not that that was really a problem for me, before I located the bars of iron in a barrel, much like my own, and stepped towards them. “Feel free to examine them. I have only the finest stock in the whole of Euper.” He boasted. I picked on of the bars out the barrel and struck it with my fork, and then folded my ears at the sour tone that the fork produced.

“What are you trying to do to me?”

“What?” the little man exclaims. “You think that there is something wrong with these bars.” I signed before I explained

“My testing fork never lies about the quality of the iron that it hits.” He smiles

“That metal is fine for ordinary objects but if you want high quality that will cost you more.” He pointed over to a second barrel that contained more metal bars. “Try the bars in that one.” I moved over to the indicated barrel and picked out a bar and struck it with the fork and then grinned, much to the discomfort of the merchant, at the pure tone that the fork produced.

“That is more like it merchant.” He smiled

“I told you sir – only the best. You may choose which bars you want sir.” I quickly tested and selected fifteen bars, five more that I had originally intended and placed them in a pile before I turned and asked the man

“I was wondering if you also have access to a supply of anthracite coal?” He twitched his whiskers before cautiously responding

“That’s a little harder to obtain then good iron as there is none in the valley, but I have some. It’s becoming more popular among the local smiths. Would you like to see some?”

“Certainly good merchant, but I warn you I know the difference between high quality anthracite and lower quality coal.”

“Would I try to cheat a killer like you sir?” He asked me as he lead me deeper into the store room.

“For your sake I certainly hope not.” I replied in a tone that was as frosty as the water in the Metamor River. He turned on me

“Sir!” he answered coldly “I have my honour and find that mildly insulting that you would think that I’d cheat you.”

“I’ve run into many merchants in the past thirty years who would think nothing of cheating someone just to get more money.” I replied as he led me to where a dozen barrels were resting

“All to true. But NOT me! Feel free to examine my wares. You’ll find no cheating here.” He pointed at the barrels and said “Here is the hard coal that you wanted.” I pried the lid off of the first barrel and pulled out a chunk of lustrous black rock and tried to scratch it with one of my claws. It didn’t leave a mark on the rock. I dropped the hunk of coal back into the barrel and turned and smiled before I said

“I apologize for the perceived insult good merchant. I can see that you have good quality products here. I would like four of these barrels of coal as well as my previously selected iron.”

“Fair enough. The iron is 3 suns a bar and the coal is four suns a barrel. Do you want it delivered? For a small fee of course.”

“Yes I would like it delivered to my apartment in the keep.”

“All right. there will be a fee of four suns for that sir. I will require some payment before I deliver anything.”

“From my calculations your total price comes to sixty five suns, but the best that I can do is sixty suns.” He looked at me his eyes narrowing in thought before he replied

“For a warrior like you I’ll offer all these great products for only sixty-four suns.”

“Sixty-four suns, come on you can do better than that. How about sixty suns and a moon.”

“I have a family to feed! You want my children to STARVE? 63 suns.”

“How can you be flat broke when you have all of this stuff? I’ll give you sixty-two, but don’t ask for a penny more.”

“I am not poor but my children cannot eat coal and iron! But sixty-two does sound fair.” I grinned at him and held out my large hand for him to shake on the deal.

“Fair enough sir!” He extended his hand and shook my hand. After a swift shake of hands I reached into my belt pouch before I asked him

“Do you mind if we go to the front of the shop so that I can count out the coins?”

“All right.” He replied before he began to make his way back to the front of the shop with me following close behind him. When we got there I pulled out some coins and placed them on the counter. Since my last time with monetary confusion I had exchanged all of my foreign money for local currency for the sake of expedience. I counted out six garrets and a sun before I said

“You’ll get the rest when my supplies arrive at my room.”

“Good! You are a fair trader sir! Its been a pleasure doing business with you.” I smiled slowly and then handed him a piece of paper “Those are the runes that you will find on my door. By the way how long will it be until these materials arrive? I have to begin work with them as soon as I get them.”

“This afternoon soon enough for you?”

“Yes that will be fine, the earlier the better. I have two contracts to fulfill as soon as I possibly can.” he nodded before he said

“I understand, each person here has his own business that he would like to get taken care of as quickly as possible.” I nodded in response as I left his shop and headed back to the keep whistling as I went. On my way back to the keep I ran into a messenger who looked up at me and said

“Sir I have a note here form George the Patrol Master for you.” I nodded and took the note out of his hand and placed it into my belt pouch before I said

“Thank you and have a nice day.” The messenger smiled and headed on his way while I continued on my way. When I got back home I broke the seal on the note and read the contents.

'''''Adon Naharel I request your presence in my office at nine-o-clock sharp tomorrow morning in my office.
George, Patrol Master, Metamor Keep'''''

I nodded my head. I guess that this meant that George was once more going to change my assingment to suit hi own needs. There were times where I just wished that he would make up his mind where he wanted me to be. I shook my head and sighed before I removed my cloak and placed it on its hook, flung the letter on my desk, and sat down to write something in my journals.

Several hours later I was writing down recent events in my journal. I had a habit of keeping everything down on paper, even though paper could be expensive in some places, when there was a knock on the door. I went to open the door and found a young woman standing there pushing a large cart.

“Sir my father sent me here to deliver the materials that you purchased at our store earlier in the day. I also have to pick up the rest of the money for this stuff.” She indicated the cart which was loaded down with the four barrels of coal and the fifteen bars of high quality iron that I had purchased. I reached over to my desk and picked up a small leather pouch that contained the remaining coins that I had to pay to the merchant and handed it to the woman before I picked up all fifteen on the iron bars and carried them through my living area into the forge room. Then I returned to find the young woman carrying one of the four barrels of coal though my room along the same path I had taken. She set the barrel down and then said

“If you don’t mind sir I’ll just bring the barrels into the room and I’ll let you place them where you want to.” I nodded my head and grabbed the barrel where he had placed it on the floor and carried it into my forge where I placed it on corner a good distance from the hearth of the forge. Five minutes later I closed the door, threw off my vest and covered myself with my leather apron.

I lit the furnace and then went back to my journal until the fire was the right temperature. When it was ready I picked up the first bar and placed it in the fire and grabbed the bellows handle. I pumped the handle several times until I saw that the bar had turned bright yellow-white.

Over the next three hours I reduced the size of the metal bar, five pounds was far too heavy to make a sword from. I had finally gotten the right amount of metal and I was begining to fold the metal to make the blade for the sword that I was making for George. I looked at the clock in my living area and smiled. I set down the partially finished blade and banked the fires before I threw off my leather apron and put on my vest. Misha would be proud of me for laying aside a piece of work before it was finished. I had already decided that today I would go down to the Deaf Mule and have a couple of ales and throw some darts and knives with Copernicus, after all it had been several weeks since I had been down there. Though the last time I had been there I had almost demolished the place and that was something that I don’t think that Donnie had really appreciated all that much.

When I got down the to bar Donnie looked up at me and smiled before he said

“I have a drink here that I just created. Do you think that you wouldn’t mind trying it out? Most of the other patrons don’t think that it smells all that good.” I nodded my head

“After all of the damage I caused the last time I came in here I should try and do something for you besides washing dishes.” He laughed at my comment before he placed a glass mug on the bar, one side the mug was made for a person we possessed a muzzle, and poured in a brownish green concoction into the mug. Even from where I was standing my nose told me that whatever was in that mug was going to be absoluetely heavenly. When Donnie finished mixing the drink I picked it off of the bar and made my way to the table near where Copernicus was shooting darts.

“Cope did you want to shoot against me tonight?” He looked over at me in surprise before he said

“I’ve missed the challenge that you normally present to me.” We played a single game, this time he won, but sooner or later I was going to beat this lizard at his own game. Now that I didn’t have to worry about what the drink would do to me I sniffed it and whoa this was powerful stuff whatever it was because I was getting buzzed on the fumes of the drink alone. I took a swig and all I can say about that is wow this stuff was gooood. I don’t know what it was about the stuff but I seriously liked it and it didn’t take me very long to polish off the rest of the drink. I actually stood up to go over to the bar but I just about fell on my face as I prepared to take a step so I sat down again, to be joined at my table by the swimming faces of Drift, George, Caroline, Jack and Copernicus.

“Are you ok Oberon?” Jack asked me

“I realllllyyyy don’ knooowww.” I managed to say.

After that the rest of the evening was concerned my memory was a hazzy muddle of fumes from the one drink that Donnie had concocted for me. The one moment I can recall is the feeling of being hugged by someone who was telling me that it was all right and that I had as much right as anyone else in the keep of having these problems.

George came into the bar and looked over at the dartboard where his friend Oberon was shooting darts with Copernicus. George picked up an ale and headed over to where the tiger had placed his drink. Gods that drink smelled something terrible. Why in the name of Eli had Donnie given Oberon this drink considering that it smelled like crushed grass and water. When Oberon finished his game, which he lost by the smallest margin he picked up his repulsive smelling drink and took a stiff swig. From the expression on the feline’s face George could tell that whatever was in that mug was definitely to Oberon taste. The cat sat down beside George and looked over at the jackal owlishly before he took another swig from him mug. Soon they were joined by Drift, Jack DeMule, Caroline and Finbar. Jack looked at George for a second before he asked

“How are you doing today George?” George sighed before answering

“Well I had to go through all of the information that we gathered from raiding that lutin encampment yesterday. That was balls of fun.” Then the two of them looked over as Oberon slammed his mug down onto the table and stood up, somewhat unsteadily, before attempting to walk over the bar. The big cat caught himself before he fell on his face and then returned to that safety of the chair that he had been sitting at

“Are you ok Oberon?” Jack asked in concern

“I realllllyyyy don’ knooowww.” the big cat slurred as he looked around the table owlishly at those who were sitting around it.

“I haven’ sat at a table with friens for a very long time.” For some reason the big fellow’s speach was actually improving. Caroline’s ears pricked up and she asked

“How long has it been Oberon?” her voice showing some mild concern

“Thirty years, six months, and four days. That’s how long its been since I was at a bar in my homeland sharing a drink with my friends and family.” George shook his head before he asked

“Why have you gone and done that to yourself when you could’ve easily found yourself comradeship in any place on the continent?”

“Do you have any idea what it’s like to constantly lose friends?” George saw something like a feeling of pain remembered cross Drift’s face at Oberon’s question. He also noticed another expression, this one of conviction and determination. George knew that look, he had seen it before and he pitied the one who was the object of that look. “Can you imagine constantly going through life losing friends, family, and comrades? Trust me being alone is much better than going through your life in a constant state of bereavement.” George looked over at the big guy before he commented

“I do know about this Oberon. I’ve lived to this old age, but most of my friends and comrades haven’t. I doubt that even my brothers and sisters are still alive.”

“You can’t spend forever alone Oberon,” Caroline added. “A person needs friends!” George watched as Oberon looked around the table and then put his head into his hands before he finally said

“I guess that is true, you have no idea what it has been like, the past thirty years. All alone with no one that I could afford to befriend because of the risk of them ending up dead.” Caroline tenderly rubbed the back of Oberon’s neck

“We’re all a lot harder to kill off then you might think, and you cannot stay alone forever or you’ll go mad!” Oberon looked up at the otter morph before George saw something that he thought that he’d never see in the eyes of the tiger. The man was crying, that really shook George. This man was really a human being no matter how much he sought to hide it. George could see that Caroline was unsure of what to do, but then she made up her mind and hugged the large cat “Hush, You’re among friends. Everything will be all right.” George heard the cat sigh before Oberon said

“I know, and for the first time in more years than you can count I feel good about it.” George commented

“You’re stuck here my friend. So you have us all as your friends whether you want it or not.” The big tiger’s reply was, George later figured, completely out of character for the feline warrior

“I would really appreciate that.” Finally George figured it out, must be the drink talking. Since he was wondering about it so much about what had been in the drink he stood up and went over and asked Donnie

“What did you put in that poor feline’s drink anyways?” Donnie shrugged.

“Oh a little extra something to make him relax. I didn’t think that he would relax THIS much.”

“A little extra WHAT?” George asked getting a little exasperated with the bull morph bartender.

“Catnip.” Donnie replied

“You gave him catnip, aren’t you aware of its effects on felines?” George asked shaking his head in wonder.

“Sniffing it is like drinking it, isn’t it? I have several feline customers who sniff it so that they can relax.”

“I get the impression that sniffing it is much less potent then ingesting it. When he ingests it, it stays in his system for much longer. I just hope that he doesn’t throw that stuff up.” Donnie looked at concern over at the feline slumped over with his head in his hands before he said

“Are you sorry that I gave it to him? Oberon needed it, he needed to relax and unwind, and he wouldn’t do it without help.” George shook his head

"No I’m not sorry that you did it Donnie but next time dilute it down seventy or eighty percent, so that he is still in control of his faculties. He will eventually pass out from this dose.”

“If not the catnip then all the alcohol that he’s been drinking will make him pass out.”

“How much did he drink before you gave him that?”

“Well he had the look of a person who came here to get drunk. If that drink doesn’t knock him out the two dozen that follows certainly will.”

“I don’t really think that he needs anything else to drink Donnie. Oh by the way can you wake him up tomorrow at half past eight in the morning. I think that I’ll rejoin my comrades over at the table and see if I can give more comfort to our broken down cat.”

“He can sleep in one of my rooms. He won’t be the first one.” George walked back to the table where the rest of them were and sat down before he asked

“How’s he doing now?”

“Sinking fast.” she explained. “I don’t think that he’ll be awake much longer.”

“What’s he been saying?”

“He was talking about his family and friends from his homeland. How someone wiped out his entire clan,” Finbar said being quiet for a change. “He was crying pretty hard, that is something that I’ve never seen him do.” Jack looked over and went on

“It sounds like he’s had a hard life.”

“He has,” George commented. “He’s lost his whole family.” Drift looked over at George and quietly said

“I know what that is like. From my point of view it’s probably the worst thing that can happen to a person.”

“No wonder he doesn’t want anyone to get too close to him. He’s afraid of losing them too.” Caroline commented from where she was sitting beside the nearly comatose tiger. They all nodded before Coperinicus who had been shooting darts with someone else leaned over the table and asked

“Can you imagine a life where you are constantly afraid that you will lose all of the people that you care for?” Finbar shook his head. He was uncharacteristically somber. “I can imagine losing my mom. I’d go crazy.” Just then there was an audible thump and they all turned to see the big black and white tiger face down on the table snoring lightly.

“And megakitty is down for the evening!” Finbar said sarcastically returning to his normal form of talking. George shook his head before he pointed out

“I guess that we’d better tell Donnie to drag this big guy’s tail up to a room for the night.”

“Maybe we’d better do it,” Caroline suggested. “He is our friend.” Finbar laughed

“He weighs more then all of us combined. How are we supposed to pick this guy up? Levitate him with a spell? As far as I know none of us is a mage.”

“We’ll get Donnie to carry him. It’s HIS fault that Oberon got this way, so he has to do it. A fitting punishment.” George answered. They all agreed and then George and Jack went over to Donnie and told him that Oberon was out for the evening. Shortly afterwards George left the Deaf Mule and went to his own apartment where he turned in for the night still thinking of what he had heard from his friend.

I’m not sure how much later it was but the sun was beginning to creep through the shutters when I opened my eyes. The reason that I awoke was instantly apparent as the sound of someone knocking on the door increased in volume.

“Oberon get up I have a message for you.” a loud bass voice shouted from the hallway. The sound of the voice stabbed into my ears like a bar of white hot steel. I moaned and picked myself up from the bed that I was laying in and stumbled over to the door and opened it. I found myself facing the barkeeper of the Deaf Mule. He looked straight into my eyes and said

“Last night George told me to get you up early because you have to report to his office this morning.” I looked at Donnie for a moment trying to sort my fuzzy memories of last night out until I recalled that what the barkeep had said was true.

“What time is it Donnie?” He looked at me and then said

“It’s just after eight-thirty in the morning.” I groaned again and then grabbed my belt and clock which were hanging on a bed-post and headed out of the room

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” Donnie asked me, his eyebrow cocked at me. I thought for a second before I reached into my belt pouch and tossed him a silver moon.

“Keep the change Donnie.” I mumbled as I made my way down stairs and out into the street. I slowly made my way, with a pounding head towards George’s office. When I got there I closed the door and said
“Reporting as ordered.” I told George while kept my ears plastered to the back of my skull to keep the louder more painful sounds out

“You’re late,” George replied coldly.

“Well you have that krachendra of a barkeeper to blame for that. By the three forsaken ones, what was in that drink that he gave me?”

“If you have a hangover there is no one to blame but yourself.”

“Well I think that you should blame that barkeep, I’ve never been that looped after consuming just one drink. What did he put in that concoction, in that drink anyways?”

“You’ve never heard of Catnip have you?” George answered me with a question

“No I’m afraid I haven’t heard of it.” I answered slowly “What is it?” George shook his head.

“It’s a herb that is normally harmless, but to felines like you it’s like alcohol. A small sniff is like a dozen drinks of strong whiskey.”

“So that’s why that drink that I had went straight to my head. Damn it tasted so very good, I actually wanted more when my mug was empty, though I don’t really remember much after that.” George laughed. “What part of LIKE ALCOHOL did you not get?” I placed my hands over my eyes before I softly said

“Can you please not shout, and would you be kind enough to turn down the lamp a little?” Then I muttered under my breath “That barkeep had better watch out next time I come into his place.”

“NO!” George shouted, I could tell that he was being deliberately loud “Your lack of good judgement is not my problem.” I growled at the loud sound of his shouting and then instantly regretted it.

“What is the purpose of this interrogation sir? If there is a reason behind it please tell me so that I can go home, pour myself into bed, and sleep that awful drug off.”

“Well to be brief, Barbara, your former commander of your first patrol unit was removed from command and that unit needs a new Lieutenant. That new Lieutenant is you.” I looked at him for a second, my astonishment burned through the haze of the catnip fumes and I asked him

“Are you meaning to say that you’re promoting me from a simple scout foot-soldier to an officer after less than three months here at the keep?” He cocked his head and pointed out

“Am I to understand that you don’t think that you can handle this task? Well even if you lack in confidence, I personally think that you are quite capable of this new position.” I shook my head

“It isn’t as though I don’t trust my abilities as a leader. It's that you surprised me sir. Trust me I will do my best in this new assignment sir. Though right at this particular moment in time I doubt that I could lead a file of dogs out of an alehouse in my condition. By the way how long will I have to train them, before I have to take them out into the field?” George shrugged

“That is up to you to decide, but I bet that it will take at least a month or two.”

“OK I will take the job sir. The first thing that I will have to do is to evaluate their current skills. From there I will create a real training program that will address their weaknesses and make them into a halfway competent squad of scouts.”

“Don’t over do it at first Oberon. They are way out of shape. Take your time.

“I will take my time sir, but their training will be tough, I can promise you that much. I’ve never been an easy training officer, but there are many veterans across the Midlands that can attest to that. However, those veterans are notable in that they are still alive, which is something that I believe is a result of their training, which I provided.”

“I expect you to be hard, but not too hard. They do need to be seriously shaken up.”

“I will be fair sir, as fair as my instructors were to me more than fifty years ago, though I will have to actually tone down some of their lessons to suit this place and the people that I am training. I can promise you one thing sir. Within a month I will have turned them into a halfway decent squad of scouts.”

“Fair enough. I expect to see some results within the month.” I saluted him

“If that is everything sir may I be dismissed so that I can get some sleep?” George laughed with a dangerous smile on his face

“I’ll be kind. Meet your team tomorrow at six-o-clock in the morning in the Scout Hall.”

“Yes sir.” I said before I turned and dragged my sore aching tail out of the room and headed for my apartment where I could crash into my own bed for some much needed rest.

Some hours later I awoke and looked up at the ceiling. This time my senses weren’t swimming though I was still feeling a little sore, but I could stand that soreness. After a few more minutes I pulled myself out of bed and got ready for the afternoon. Once I was properly equipped for the afternoon I headed down to the practice field where I could get ready for my unit tomorrow. As I was walking over to the archery butts with my training arrows I heard a sarcastic voice call out

“Well look! The cat is among the living!” I knew that voice. It was Finbar the ferret morph. I gave him a cold gaze before I growled

“Do you want to keep your tongue in your head or would you prefer to hunt it down after I pull it out and throw it over the wall?” He started to say something but Caroline stepped in front of him, stopping him.

“You need to learn more about your new body Oberon. Catnip is something that you need to beware of.”

“Why in the name of the Forsaken Ones did that barkeep ever conceive that it was a good idea to give me that awful stuff in the first place?”

“Well he believed, like some of us here, that you needed to unwind a little and relax.” The otter explained softly.

“Well I was definitely mellow last night, so mellow in fact that I can’t really remember what I did or said after I finished my drink. If I said anything while I was under the influence please disregard it. I have better things to do than to listen to what addle-brained pronouncements that I may have made last night.” Caroline laughed.

“If you have been any mellower you would’ve passed out.”

“I thought that I did pass out.”

“Well in any case we didn’t really mind what you said last night. It just showed that you are indeed a human being under all of that fur.”

“Some of those things are best left in the past where they belong.” Caroline came over to me and hugged me

“We all have parts of our past that we want to forget.”

“I have more things that are to remain private then most, My feelings aren’t something that I really want to become public property or even public knowledge.”

“You can’t keep all of your emotions bottled up Oberon.” Finbar said calmly with no trace of his earlier sarcasm.

“Listen I’ve managed my own feelings in this manner for longer than either of you have been alive, so I think that I can continue to deal with them in whatever manner I see fit.” Caroline looked up directly into my eyes

“You can’t stay bottled up forever Oberon. You are here at the Keep for life, like the rest of us.”

“Well I guess that I will just have to make do with myself as best I can.”

“All right. We all have to live our own lives my friend.” Finbar said in a tone that was at once both pitying and final. I nodded my head and thanked both of them before I moved to the line opposite the archery target butts with my bow in hand. I had a limited supply of target arrows, but right now they would have to do. I had yet to forge new arrowheads, though I had just recently purchased a good amount of iron I had only just started working on the sword that I had to make for George.

I turned in early that night because I really didn’t feel like going to the ‘Mule and subjecting myself to Donnie’s new concoction. Besides I had some things that I had to take care of tomorrow and they would require my full attention.

{{series bar
|previous=[[The Raid]]
|next=[[The Bottom of the Barrel]]
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A Swing at the Mule

2017-07-13T16:43:17Z

Lem: correct autospell errors

[[Category:Story]] [[Category:Animal]]
{{DEFAULTSORT: Swing at the Mule, A}}
[[Category:Metamor Keep]]
[[Category:Oberon]]
{{editing requested}}{{universe|Metamor Keep}}

By: [[User:Oberon|Oberon]]

I looked up at my ceiling and luxuriated in the feeling of a clean bed under my back. Yesterday after I had gotten back from our raiding mission I had spent more than an hour in the bath-house cleaning all of the blood from my fur until the white and black stripes almost shone. I looked over at the clock on my desk and then realized that I had to get up quickly because I really didn’t want Caroline to come in on me while I was still wearing nought but my fur. We had both agreed that she was to come by here at nine-o-clock in the morning and it was already eight fifty-five. I quickly shrugged into a basic kilt and tunic before there was a knock at the door. I quickly opened the door and found myself standing over the otter morph just as she was in the act of raising her hand to knock on the door again.

“Good morning! I am on time and ready for my fitting!” I managed to smiled before I said

“I’m glad to see that someone around this place believes in showing up on time. Come in, come in.” I gestured with one of my hands inviting her into my apartment. “Pardon the mess I just got up, I was enjoying my bed this morning, much better than a tree trunk in the forest while the commander makes plans with Finbar the ferret.” Caroline stepped into the room before she turned and asked me

“Why exactly do I need a fitting for a sword?”

“Like I told George my weapons are custom built for their weilders, they are exactly balanced for the use of the person who contracts me to forge them. For instance have you seen the set that I made for Misha?” She nodded her headstrong

“Fine weapons! What exactly do you want me to do? Just hold still?”

“Yes that is exactly want I want you to do. But come on into my forge and I’ll take care of it all as quickly as I can.” I led her past my desk with the clock and my journals on it. I noticed her looking at the clock and joked “Like my clock?” She laughed and wiggled one of her ears before she replied

“It looks familiar. Did my cute foxy make that for you?”

“Yes he said that it was one of his collaborations with one Will Hardy, the Keep Jeweller.” Caroline let out a delighted chitter before she said

“You mean my father Will Hardy! That’s how Misha and I met in the first place.”

“Are you meaning to tell me that you met Misha when he started working with your father making these clocks?” The otter nodded her head

“Yes he came into my father’s shop looking so handsome in his armour.” I smiled and pointed at my own armour which was sitting on its rack in the corner of my forge

“What do you think of that armour over there?” She glanced over at the flat black armour before she replied

“Good looking. Not as handsome as Misha’s. Is there anything special about it?”

“Well other than the fact that I made it myself more than thirty years ago there area few things about it that make it better than your standard armour. Even though I’ve had to repair it more times than I can count during my time as a mercenary. It is actually superior to most types of armour that I’ve run into though there are probably some kinds out there that are better. I picked up the chest and back piece and held it out for Caroline to see. She reached out with a hand and stroked the left metal chest plate

“It’s certainly seen some hard use, and it’s held up very well considering all that it’s been through.” I turned around and placed the armour back on it’s rack, picked my measuring string off of its hook in the wall and asked Caroline

“Can you hold out your arms so that I can get a good measurement of your arms, hands, and body?” She held out her arms and tried to remain still as I quickly measured her arms, her hands, and her height before I went over to the wall where I had several spare short-swords and picked one off it’s hooks before I handed it to her. “How does this weapon feel? It’s not really designed for you but it might be relatively close to your requirements. If you want you can use it until your own weapon is ready.” She unsheathed the weapon and tested it in her hand before she said

“The balance is good but the weight is a bit too much for my liking. Would you let me try another.” I took the sword from her and replaced it in its scabbard before I rehung it and looked around at my collection, finding two likely candidates I pulled them down and held them out to her. They were both old weapons that I had forged many years ago when I was still back in my homeland. She tested both weapons before she held out the one that I was most proud of and said “Both of these weapons are fine swords but this one here feels about right for me.” I grinned and handed her the scabbard and belt that went with the weapon. She sheathed the blade and strapped the belt around her waist before I stated

“When I get your weapons finished I will need a way to contact you.”

“I’m always at the Long House. If you can contact Misha just leave a word with him.”

“Ok now that that’s out of the way when can I expect to receive payment for your new blade?”

“How about half tomorrow and the rest when your done?”

“That is acceptable Caroline, I trust you because I believe that you have a sense of honour like your consort, Misha.” She smiled and then leaned over and planted a small kiss on my muzzle just below my sensitive nose pad

“Thank you Oberon.” I felt the blood run up the insides of my ears and to the tip of my nose before I replied

“It’s not really a big deal.” She shook her head

“Honour means a lot to me and Misha. Even if he’ll never admit it openly.”

“That was the first thing that I admired about your consort, his sense of honour.”

“Thank you. Misha loves to play the outsider with no honour sometimes, but even George has honour of a sort.”

“That old cutlass, I’ve known that old man for longer than you would believe.”

“You knew him before he came here?” She asked “I think that old bandit knows everyone.” I laughed at her expression

“We met back more than a decade ago while we were working off in the Pyralin Confederation messing around with the removal of some nobleman.” She shook her head

“Nothing surprises me about that old jackal anymore.”

“I can tell you one thing, that guy has definitely been around the Midlands for a long time.”

“Misha says that George has been everywhere and done everything.” She explained. “And I believe him completely.” I laughed slowly before I said

“One of these days you’ll probably find me and George at the Deaf Mule sitting around trading old war stories for the fun of it.”

“Now THAT is something that I’d love to listen to. George can really tell some great stories.”

“I have my own fare share of stories, more than fifty years of warefare will give you a lot of stories to recount.”

“I bet! You have to tell them to us someday.” I moved around her and hung the other sword on its hook before I pointed out

“Well right now I believe that I have to go shopping for some iron because,” I indicated the barrel that I used to hold my iron supply, which was notable because it was empty “, I currently am out of the stuff and it’s hard to make swords without iron.” She wiggled an ear before commenting

“Thankfully iron is cheap here. There are several iron mines in the south of the valley.”

“How good is the quality though?” She shrugged

“I don’t really know iron, but Misha uses the local iron a lot and he’s happy.”

“I’ll take that as a recommendation, never the less I will take my own testing fork with me. Now if you don’t mind I need to get dressed properly so that I can go out in public. I indicated my thrown on clothing with a hand while I used the other to pick my testing fork off of it’s wall hook.

“All right. No harm in being safe and testing what you buy. Misha does it to. He always says’ if I’m spending all this money I want to be sure of what I am getting.”

“Well that is the way I am.” I told her as I exited the forge and headed for my closet. “I’ve seen far too many people who will take something at face value. Personally I’ve been around for far too long to fall for something like that.” She nodded at my wisdom before she headed out the door

“I’ll see you later Oberon.” she chirped closing the door behind her. I shook my head to clear some of the thoughts from my head. That was one good looking female, but she was already spoke for in that respect.

Once I was dressed I made my way to my usual breakfast spot where I made quick work of my breakfast before I headed down to Euper to see if I could find myself a supplier of iron for my forge. After twenty minutes I found myself in front of shop that advertised that it was ‘Mack’s General Supplies, Where People come when they want something.’ I stepped through the door and found myself facing a small rodent of a man with a clearly avaricious look on his face. He looked up and me and put on a pleasant expression before he said

“Good morning sir! How may I help you today?” I look him up and down and finally answered him in a business-like manner.

“I’m looking for roughly fifty pounds of high quality raw iron.”

“Raw iron I have. It comes in 5 pound bars at 2 suns per bar.”

“Can I see what you have? I want to test these bars myself for quality.” I said as I pulled out my testing fork.

“Of course sir.” He shouted into the back room summoning a young boy who he told to watch the shop. Then he said “If you’ll follow me sir.” before he made his way into the back room which was full to ceiling with various things. I looked around in the dim light of the back room, not that that was really a problem for me, before I located the bars of iron in a barrel, much like my own, and stepped towards them. “Feel free to examine them. I have only the finest stock in the whole of Euper.” He boasted. I picked on of the bars out the barrel and struck it with my fork, and then folded my ears at the sour tone that the fork produced.

“What are you trying to do to me?”

“What?” the little man exclaims. “You think that there is something wrong with these bars.” I signed before I explained

“My testing fork never lies about the quality of the iron that it hits.” He smiles

“That metal is fine for ordinary objects but if you want high quality that will cost you more.” He pointed over to a second barrel that contained more metal bars. “Try the bars in that one.” I moved over to the indicated barrel and picked out a bar and struck it with the fork and then grinned, much to the discomfort of the merchant, at the pure tone that the fork produced.

“That is more like it merchant.” He smiled

“I told you sir – only the best. You may choose which bars you want sir.” I quickly tested and selected fifteen bars, five more that I had originally intended and placed them in a pile before I turned and asked the man

“I was wondering if you also have access to a supply of anthracite coal?” He twitched his whiskers before cautiously responding

“That’s a little harder to obtain then good iron as there is none in the valley, but I have some. It’s becoming more popular among the local smiths. Would you like to see some?”

“Certainly good merchant, but I warn you I know the difference between high quality anthracite and lower quality coal.”

“Would I try to cheat a killer like you sir?” He asked me as he lead me deeper into the store room.

“For your sake I certainly hope not.” I replied in a tone that was as frosty as the water in the Metamor River. He turned on me

“Sir!” he answered coldly “I have my honour and find that mildly insulting that you would think that I’d cheat you.”

“I’ve run into many merchants in the past thirty years who would think nothing of cheating someone just to get more money.” I replied as he led me to where a dozen barrels were resting

“All to true. But NOT me! Feel free to examine my wares. You’ll find no cheating here.” He pointed at the barrels and said “Here is the hard coal that you wanted.” I pried the lid off of the first barrel and pulled out a chunk of lustrous black rock and tried to scratch it with one of my claws. It didn’t leave a mark on the rock. I dropped the hunk of coal back into the barrel and turned and smiled before I said

“I apologize for the perceived insult good merchant. I can see that you have good quality products here. I would like four of these barrels of coal as well as my previously selected iron.”

“Fair enough. The iron is 3 suns a bar and the coal is four suns a barrel. Do you want it delivered? For a small fee of course.”

“Yes I would like it delivered to my apartment in the keep.”

“All right. there will be a fee of four suns for that sir. I will require some payment before I deliver anything.”

“From my calculations your total price comes to sixty five suns, but the best that I can do is sixty suns.” He looked at me his eyes narrowing in thought before he replied

“For a warrior like you I’ll offer all these great products for only sixty-four suns.”

“Sixty-four suns, come on you can do better than that. How about sixty suns and a moon.”

“I have a family to feed! You want my children to STARVE? 63 suns.”

“How can you be flat broke when you have all of this stuff? I’ll give you sixty-two, but don’t ask for a penny more.”

“I am not poor but my children cannot eat coal and iron! But sixty-two does sound fair.” I grinned at him and held out my large hand for him to shake on the deal.

“Fair enough sir!” He extended his hand and shook my hand. After a swift shake of hands I reached into my belt pouch before I asked him

“Do you mind if we go to the front of the shop so that I can count out the coins?”

“All right.” He replied before he began to make his way back to the front of the shop with me following close behind him. When we got there I pulled out some coins and placed them on the counter. Since my last time with monetary confusion I had exchanged all of my foreign money for local currency for the sake of expedience. I counted out six garrets and a sun before I said

“You’ll get the rest when my supplies arrive at my room.”

“Good! You are a fair trader sir! Its been a pleasure doing business with you.” I smiled slowly and then handed him a piece of paper “Those are the runes that you will find on my door. By the way how long will it be until these materials arrive? I have to begin work with them as soon as I get them.”

“This afternoon soon enough for you?”

“Yes that will be fine, the earlier the better. I have two contracts to fulfill as soon as I possibly can.” he nodded before he said

“I understand, each person here has his own business that he would like to get taken care of as quickly as possible.” I nodded in response as I left his shop and headed back to the keep whistling as I went. On my way back to the keep I ran into a messenger who looked up at me and said

“Sir I have a note here form George the Patrol Master for you.” I nodded and took the note out of his hand and placed it into my belt pouch before I said

“Thank you and have a nice day.” The messenger smiled and headed on his way while I continued on my way. When I got back home I broke the seal on the note and read the contents.

'''''Adon Naharel I request your presence in my office at nine-o-clock sharp tomorrow morning in my office.
George, Patrol Master, Metamor Keep'''''

I nodded my head. I guess that this meant that George was once more going to change my assingment to suit hi own needs. There were times where I just wished that he would make up his mind where he wanted me to be. I shook my head and sighed before I removed my cloak and placed it on its hook, flung the letter on my desk, and sat down to write something in my journals.

Several hours later I was writing down recent events in my journal. I had a habit of keeping everything down on paper, even though paper could be expensive in some places, when there was a knock on the door. I went to open the door and found a young woman standing there pushing a large cart.

“Sir my father sent me here to deliver the materials that you purchased at our store earlier in the day. I also have to pick up the rest of the money for this stuff.” She indicated the cart which was loaded down with the four barrels of coal and the fifteen bars of high quality iron that I had purchased. I reached over to my desk and picked up a small leather pouch that contained the remaining coins that I had to pay to the merchant and handed it to the woman before I picked up all fifteen on the iron bars and carried them through my living area into the forge room. Then I returned to find the young woman carrying one of the four barrels of coal though my room along the same path I had taken. She set the barrel down and then said

“If you don’t mind sir I’ll just bring the barrels into the room and I’ll let you place them where you want to.” I nodded my head and grabbed the barrel where he had placed it on the floor and carried it into my forge where I placed it on corner a good distance from the hearth of the forge. Five minutes later I closed the door, threw off my vest and covered myself with my leather apron.

I lit the furnace and then went back to my journal until the fire was the right temperature. When it was ready I picked up the first bar and placed it in the fire and grabbed the bellows handle. I pumped the handle several times until I saw that the bar had turned bright yellow-white.

Over the next three hours I reduced the size of the metal bar, five pounds was far too heavy to make a sword from. I had finally gotten the right amount of metal and I was begining to fold the metal to make the blade for the sword that I was making for George. I looked at the clock in my living area and smiled. I set down the partially finished blade and banked the fires before I threw off my leather apron and put on my vest. Misha would be proud of me for laying aside a piece of work before it was finished. I had already decided that today I would go down to the Deaf Mule and have a couple of ales and throw some darts and knives with Copernicus, after all it had been several weeks since I had been down there. Though the last time I had been there I had almost demolished the place and that was something that I don’t think that Donnie had really appreciated all that much.

When I got down the to bar Donnie looked up at me and smiled before he said

“I have a drink here that I just created. Do you think that you wouldn’t mind trying it out? Most of the other patrons don’t think that it smells all that good.” I nodded my head

“After all of the damage I caused the last time I came in here I should try and do something for you besides washing dishes.” He laughed at my comment before he placed a glass mug on the bar, one side the mug was made for a person we possessed a muzzle, and poured in a brownish green concoction into the mug. Even from where I was standing my nose told me that whatever was in that mug was going to be absoluetely heavenly. When Donnie finished mixing the drink I picked it off of the bar and made my way to the table near where Copernicus was shooting darts.

“Cope did you want to shoot against me tonight?” He looked over at me in surprise before he said

“I’ve missed the challenge that you normally present to me.” We played a single game, this time he won, but sooner or later I was going to beat this lizard at his own game. Now that I didn’t have to worry about what the drink would do to me I sniffed it and whoa this was powerful stuff whatever it was because I was getting buzzed on the fumes of the drink alone. I took a swig and all I can say about that is wow this stuff was gooood. I don’t know what it was about the stuff but I seriously liked it and it didn’t take me very long to polish off the rest of the drink. I actually stood up to go over to the bar but I just about fell on my face as I prepared to take a step so I sat down again, to be joined at my table by the swimming faces of Drift, George, Caroline, Jack and Copernicus.

“Are you ok Oberon?” Jack asked me

“I realllllyyyy don’ knooowww.” I managed to say.

After that the rest of the evening was concerned my memory was a hazzy muddle of fumes from the one drink that Donnie had concocted for me. The one moment I can recall is the feeling of being hugged by someone who was telling me that it was all right and that I had as much right as anyone else in the keep of having these problems.

George came into the bar and looked over at the dartboard where his friend Oberon was shooting darts with Copernicus. George picked up an ale and headed over to where the tiger had placed his drink. Gods that drink smelled something terrible. Why in the name of Eli had Donnie given Oberon this drink considering that it smelled like crushed grass and water. When Oberon finished his game, which he lost by the smallest margin he picked up his repulsive smelling drink and took a stiff swig. From the expression on the feline’s face George could tell that whatever was in that mug was definitely to Oberon taste. The cat sat down beside George and looked over at the jackal owlishly before he took another swig from him mug. Soon they were joined by Drift, Jack DeMule, Caroline and Finbar. Jack looked at George for a second before he asked

“How are you doing today George?” George sighed before answering

“Well I had to go through all of the information that we gathered from raiding that lutin encampment yesterday. That was balls of fun.” Then the two of them looked over as Oberon slammed his mug down onto the table and stood up, somewhat unsteadily, before attempting to walk over the bar. The big cat caught himself before he fell on his face and then returned to that safety of the chair that he had been sitting at

“Are you ok Oberon?” Jack asked in concern

“I realllllyyyy don’ knooowww.” the big cat slurred as he looked around the table owlishly at those who were sitting around it.

“I haven’ sat at a table with friens for a very long time.” For some reason the big fellow’s speach was actually improving. Caroline’s ears pricked up and she asked

“How long has it been Oberon?” her voice showing some mild concern

“Thirty years, six months, and four days. That’s how long its been since I was at a bar in my homeland sharing a drink with my friends and family.” George shook his head before he asked

“Why have you gone and done that to yourself when you could’ve easily found yourself comradeship in any place on the continent?”

“Do you have any idea what it’s like to constantly lose friends?” George saw something like a feeling of pain remembered cross Drift’s face at Oberon’s question. He also noticed another expression, this one of conviction and determination. George knew that look, he had seen it before and he pitied the one who was the object of that look. “Can you imagine constantly going through life losing friends, family, and comrades? Trust me being alone is much better than going through your life in a constant state of bereavement.” George looked over at the big guy before he commented

“I do know about this Oberon. I’ve lived to this old age, but most of my friends and comrades haven’t. I doubt that even my brothers and sisters are still alive.”

“You can’t spend forever alone Oberon,” Caroline added. “A person needs friends!” George watched as Oberon looked around the table and then put his head into his hands before he finally said

“I guess that is true, you have no idea what it has been like, the past thirty years. All alone with no one that I could afford to befriend because of the risk of them ending up dead.” Caroline tenderly rubbed the back of Oberon’s neck

“We’re all a lot harder to kill off then you might think, and you cannot stay alone forever or you’ll go mad!” Oberon looked up at the otter morph before George saw something that he thought that he’d never see in the eyes of the tiger. The man was crying, that really shook George. This man was really a human being no matter how much he sought to hide it. George could see that Caroline was unsure of what to do, but then she made up her mind and hugged the large cat “Hush, You’re among friends. Everything will be all right.” George heard the cat sigh before Oberon said

“I know, and for the first time in more years than you can count I feel good about it.” George commented

“You’re stuck here my friend. So you have us all as your friends whether you want it or not.” The big tiger’s reply was, George later figured, completely out of character for the feline warrior

“I would really appreciate that.” Finally George figured it out, must be the drink talking. Since he was wondering about it so much about what had been in the drink he stood up and went over and asked Donnie

“What did you put in that poor feline’s drink anyways?” Donnie shrugged.

“Oh a little extra something to make him relax. I didn’t think that he would relax THIS much.”

“A little extra WHAT?” George asked getting a little exasperated with the bull morph bartender.

“Catnip.” Donnie replied

“You gave him catnip, aren’t you aware of its effects on felines?” George asked shaking his head in wonder.

“Sniffing it is like drinking it, isn’t it? I have several feline customers who sniff it so that they can relax.”

“I get the impression that sniffing it is much less potent then ingesting it. When he ingests it, it stays in his system for much longer. I just hope that he doesn’t throw that stuff up.” Donnie looked at concern over at the feline slumped over with his head in his hands before he said

“Are you sorry that I gave it to him? Oberon needed it, he needed to relax and unwind, and he wouldn’t do it without help.” George shook his head

"No I’m not sorry that you did it Donnie but next time dilute it down seventy or eighty percent, so that he is still in control of his faculties. He will eventually pass out from this dose.”

“If not the catnip then all the alcohol that he’s been drinking will make him pass out.”

“How much did he drink before you gave him that?”

“Well he had the look of a person who came here to get drunk. If that drink doesn’t knock him out the two dozen that follows certainly will.”

“I don’t really think that he needs anything else to drink Donnie. Oh by the way can you wake him up tomorrow at half past eight in the morning. I think that I’ll rejoin my comrades over at the table and see if I can give more comfort to our broken down cat.”

“He can sleep in one of my rooms. He won’t be the first one.” George walked back to the table where the rest of them were and sat down before he asked

“How’s he doing now?”

“Sinking fast.” she explained. “I don’t think that he’ll be awake much longer.”

“What’s he been saying?”

“He was talking about his family and friends from his homeland. How someone wiped out his entire clan,” Finbar said being quiet for a change. “He was crying pretty hard, that is something that I’ve never seen him do.” Jack looked over and went on

“It sounds like he’s had a hard life.”

“He has,” George commented. “He’s lost his whole family.” Drift looked over at George and quietly said

“I know what that is like. From my point of view it’s probably the worst thing that can happen to a person.”

“No wonder he doesn’t want anyone to get too close to him. He’s afraid of losing them too.” Caroline commented from where she was sitting beside the nearly comatose tiger. They all nodded before Coperinicus who had been shooting darts with someone else leaned over the table and asked

“Can you imagine a life where you are constantly afraid that you will lose all of the people that you care for?” Finbar shook his head. He was uncharacteristically somber. “I can imagine losing my mom. I’d go crazy.” Just then there was an audible thump and they all turned to see the big black and white tiger face down on the table snoring lightly.

“And megakitty is down for the evening!” Finbar said sarcastically returning to his normal form of talking. George shook his head before he pointed out

“I guess that we’d better tell Donnie to drag this big guy’s tail up to a room for the night.”

“Maybe we’d better do it,” Caroline suggested. “He is our friend.” Finbar laughed

“He weighs more then all of us combined. How are we supposed to pick this guy up? Levitate him with a spell? As far as I know none of us is a mage.”

“We’ll get Donnie to carry him. It’s HIS fault that Oberon got this way, so he has to do it. A fitting punishment.” George answered. They all agreed and then George and Jack went over to Donnie and told him that Oberon was out for the evening. Shortly afterwards George left the Deaf Mule and went to his own apartment where he turned in for the night still thinking of what he had heard from his friend.

I’m not sure how much later it was but the sun was beginning to creep through the shutters when I opened my eyes. The reason that I awoke was instantly apparent as the sound of someone knocking on the door increased in volume.

“Oberon get up I have a message for you.” a loud bass voice shouted from the hallway. The sound of the voice stabbed into my ears like a bar of white hot steel. I moaned and picked myself up from the bed that I was laying in and stumbled over to the door and opened it. I found myself facing the barkeeper of the Deaf Mule. He looked straight into my eyes and said

“Last night George told me to get you up early because you have to report to his office this morning.” I looked at Donnie for a moment trying to sort my fuzzy memories of last night out until I recalled that what the barkeep had said was true.

“What time is it Donnie?” He looked at me and then said

“It’s just after eight-thirty in the morning.” I groaned again and then grabbed my belt and clock which were hanging on a bed-post and headed out of the room

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” Donnie asked me, his eyebrow cocked at me. I thought for a second before I reached into my belt pouch and tossed him a silver moon.

“Keep the change Donnie.” I mumbled as I made my down stairs and out into the street. I slowly made my way, with a pounding head towards George’s office. When I got there I closed the door and said
“Reporting as ordered.” I told George while kept my ears plastered to the back of my skull to keep the louder more painful sounds out

“You’re late,” George replied coldly.

“Well you have that krachendra of a barkeeper to blame for that. By the three forsaken ones what was in that drink that he gave me?”

“If you have a hangover there is no one to blame but yourself.”

“Well I think that you should blame that barkeep, I’ve never been that looped after consuming just one drink. What did he put in that concoction in that drink anyways?”

“You’ve never heard of Catnip have you?” George answered me with a question

“No I’m afraid I haven’t heard of it.” I answered slowly “What is it?” George shook his head.

“It’s a herb that is normally harmless, but to felines like you it’s like alcohol. A small sniff is like a dozen drinks of strong whiskey.”

“So that’s why that drink that I had went straight to my head. Damn it tasted so very good, I actually wanted more when my mug was empty, though I don’t really remember much after that.” George laughed. “What part of LIKE ALCOHOL did you not get?” I placed my hands over my eyes before I softly said

“Can you please not shout, and would you be kind enough to turn down the lamp a little?” Then I muttered under my breath “That barkeep had better watch out next time I come into his place.”

“NO!” George shouted, I could tell that he was being deliberately loud “Your lack of good judgment is not my problem.” I growled at the loud sound of his shouting and then instantly regretted it.

“What is the purpose of this interrogation sir? If there is a reason behind it please tell me so that I can go home, pour myself into bed, and sleep that awful drug off.”

“Well to be brief, Barbara, your former commander of your first patrol unit was removed from command and that unit needs a new Lieutenant. That new Lieutenant is you.” I looked at him for a second, my astonishment burned through the haze of the catnip fumes and I asked him

“Are you meaning to say that you’re promoting me from a simple scout foot-soldier to an officer after less than three months here at the keep?” He cocked his head and pointed out

“Am I to understand that you don’t think that you can handle this task? Well even if you lack in confidence, I personally think that you are quite capable of this new position.” I shook my head

“It isn’t as though I don’t trust my abilities as a leader its that you surprised me sir. Trust me I will do my best in this new assignment sir. Though right at this particular moment in time I doubt that I could lead a file of dogs out of an alehouse in my condition. By the way how long will I have to train them before I have to take them out into the field?” George shrugged

“That is up to you to decide but I bet that it will take at least a month or two.”

“OK I will take the job sir. The first thing that I will have to do is to evaluate their current skills. From there I will create a real training program that will address their weaknesses and make them into a halfway competent squad of scouts.”

“Don’t over do it at first Oberon. They are way out of shape. Take your time.

“I will take my time sir, but their training will be tough, I can promise you that much. I’ve never been an easy training officer, but there are many veterans across the midlands that can attest to that. However, those veterans are notable in that they are still alive, which is something that I believe is a result of their training, which I provided.”

“I expect you to be hard, but not too hard. They do need to be seriously shaken up.”

“I will be fair sir, as fair as my instructors were to me more than fifty years ago, though I will have to actually tone down some of their lessons to suit this place and the people that I am training. I can promise you one thing sir. Within a month I will have turned them into a halfway decent squad of scouts.”

“Fair enough. I expect to see some results within the month.” I saluted him

“If that is everything sir may I be dismissed so that I can get some sleep?” George laughed with a dangerous smile on his face

“I’ll be kind. Meet your team tomorrow at six-o-clock in the morning in the Scout Hall.”

“Yes sir.” I said before I turned and dragged my sore aching tail out of the room and headed for my apartment where I could crash into my own bed for some much needed rest.

Some hours later I awoke and looked up at the ceiling. This time my senses weren’t swimming though I was still feeling a little sore, but I could stand that soreness. After a few more minutes I pulled myself out of bed and got ready for the afternoon. Once I was properly equipped for the afternoon I headed down to the practice field where I could get ready for my unit tomorrow. As I was walking over to the archery butts with my training arrows I heard a sarcastic voice call out

“Well look! The cat is among the living!” I knew that voice. It was Finbar the ferret morph. I gave him a cold gaze before I growled

“Do you want to keep your tongue in your head or would you prefer to hunt it down after I pull it out and throw it over the wall?” He started to say something but Caroline stepped in front of him, stopping him.

“You need to learn more about your new body Oberon. Catnip is something that you need to beware of.”

“Why in the name of the Forsaken Ones did that barkeep ever conceive that it was a good idea to give me that awful stuff in the first place?”

“Well he believed, like some of us here, that you needed to unwind a little and relax.” The otter explained softly.

“Well I was definitely mellow last night, so mellow in fact that I can’t really remember what I did or said after I finished my drink. If I said anything while I was under the influence please disregard it. I have better things to do than to listen to what addle-brained pronouncements that I may have made last night.” Caroline laughed.

“If you have been any mellower you would’ve passed out.”

“I thought that I did pass out.”

“Well in any case we didn’t really mind what you said last night. It just showed that you are indeed a human being under all of that fur.”

“Some of those things are best left in the past where they belong.” Caroline came over to me and hugged me

“We all have parts of our past that we want to forget.”

“I have more thing s that are to remain private then most, My feelings aren’t something that I really want to become public property or even public knowledge.”

“You can’t keep all of your emotions bottled up Oberon.” Finbar said calmly with no trace of his earlier sarcasim.

“Listen I’ve managed my own feelings in this manner for longer than either of you have been alive, so I think that I can continue to deal with them in whatever manner I see fit.” Caroline looked up directly into my eyes

“You can’t stay bottled up forever Oberon. You are here at the Keep for life, like the rest of us.”

“Well I guess that I will just have to make do with myself as best I can.”

“All right. We all have to live our own lives my friend.” Finbar said in a tone that was at once both pitying and final. I nodded my head and thanked both of them before I moved to the line opposite the archery target butts with my bow in hand. I had a limited supply of target arrows, but right now they would have to do. I had yet to forge new arrowheads, though I had just recently purchased a good amount of iron I had only just started working on the sword that I had to make for George.

I turned in early that night because I really didn’t feel like going to the ‘Mule and subjecting myself to Donnie’s new concoction. Besides I had some things that I had to take care of tomorrow and they would require my full attention.

{{series bar
|previous=[[The Raid]]
|next=[[The Bottom of the Barrel]]
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The Raid

2017-07-13T06:13:58Z

Lem: correct autospell errors

[[Category:Story]] [[Category:Animal]]
{{DEFAULTSORT: Raid, The}}
[[Category:Metamor Keep]]
[[Category:Oberon]]
{{editing requested}}{{universe|Metamor Keep}}

By: [[User:Oberon|Oberon]]

The trial of Sir Guy DeHarancourt had taken five days, but in the end that particular fanatic had been sentenced to stay in the keep under the supervision of Father Francis Hough, the local priest of the Ecclesia. The reason for the Duke’s appearant mercy was because of the form that Sir DeHarancourt had been given by the Curse of the Keep. He was now in the form of a age regressed wildcat morph, he had also lost his mind in the transformation, he was reduced to the mental state of a child, which I had learned was quite rare here at the keep. I was now free to focus my attention on my work as a member of the Metamor Keep Army Patrol Command. Although during the trial I had managed to repair my battle armour, ensuring that I would be adequately protected when my patrol encountered the enemy, and that was something that was inevitable considering what George had told me when he had assigned me to my current unit. Basically he had told me that he would test the limits of my abilities, so far he had learned of my weakness against magic, other than that I believe that he already knew just how dangerous I really was.

This morning I was able to sleep in because my unit was leaving in the afternoon for our next assignment. When I finally did wake up I had to get ready ready for work. As soon as I had stretched my muscles, tended to my hand and foot claws, and groomed my fur I began to pull on my work clothes.

An hour later I was standing with the rest of the unit while Jonah told us of the mission that we were taking part in.

“Tonight we will be taking part in a combined raid with a squadron of cavalry and a team of Long Scouts. Our target is a lutin encampment that lies only half a days ride from here. The reason we must attack together is because this encampment is larger than any one of our units alone can handle, but together our units will be able to destroy this threat against our people.” I was glad that I had decided that I would only take my light raiders pack. It contained only the barest of essentials, four days rations, a field medicine kit, and a few odds and ends. In my side pouch on my belt I carried two spare bowstrings for my monster of a longbow, and my tinderbox. When I was involved in raiding I preferred to pack light so that I could move fast. I was talking with Trent, the bison morph, about a battle that he had fought in more than ten years ago, when there was a clatter of horse hooves as the cavalry detachment that was to take part in the raid joined us. The leader of the squad was none other than the Knight Sir Edmund Delacote, though he was riding a lighter horse than was normal for a knight. Then again that was to be expected considering the fact that he now possessed the slender figure of a cheetah morph. He looked around at the people gathered in the courtyard before he asked Jonah something about our unit. Jonah laughed before he replied, even with my sensitive hearing I wasn’t able to pick up what he had said. After several more minutes Jonah finally turned and said “Ok everyone lets move out, we’ve got a lot of terrain to cover and only a few hours to cover it before darkness comes.” Almost as soon as I got under way Jonah asked me why I was moving so quickly

“Sir in the past when I’ve conducted raiding operations the imperative was to hit the enemy by moving as fast as possible.”

“Oberon we also must hit them while we are strong and fresh, therefore we must try and conserve our strength.” I nodded and scaled back my speed of movement a little, but I was still moving pretty quickly. Our unit moved quickly and quietly through the trees towards the enemy encampment for several hours, the cavalry was following behind us on previously established paths while we made our own paths into the wilderness. Of course we knew that we were preceded by at least two Long Scouts who were conducting reconnaissance of the enemy camp and determine what direction that we would attack from. We marched through most of the night to at a point fairly close to the camp. When we stopped I crouched down and pulled off my raiding pack and placed it under a tree, but not before I took out two of my large trail rations from the pack. Once I was happy that it was properly concealed I consumed the rations with a little water from a canteen before I hid that item as well. As I checked over my equipment a Long Scout that I recognized as Finbar, came over to Jonah and said softly, though not too softly for my sensitive ears to pick up

“We’ve managed to take out most of their sentries, especially on the side where the cavalry will be hitting them but you could be in for a tough fight, I thought I smelled a troll out here.”

“A troll, that wasn’t exactly in the plan.”

“Well then I guess that we will have to alter the plan.”

“I’ve never faced a troll before other than back at the Battle of Three Gates and during the Yuletide Attack, and that was when I was comfortably behind a good sized wall.”

“Well we’ll just have to make due under the circumstances.”

"It won't be easy to kill that."

"Well I have a couple big guys in my unit who might be able to do the job, one is especially dangerous."

"The troll will be the big problem. the rest we can kill easy enough. We can try and lure him into an ambush." Jonah pointed over to me and Kent before he replied

"In case ambushing the troll doesn't work those two are going to take care of it."

“Oberon can handle it." Finbar jokes. "He's as big as a troll!"

"And twice as quick." Interjects Jonah with a chuckle. At that commend Finbar laughed before he regained his composure and spread a map out onto the ground and began to point out a few salient features in the camp that was our objective. While they were taking care of those little details I checked my bow and pulled an arrow out of my quiver and nocked it without drawing the bow. I wanted to be ready in case we were expected by the lutins even though that was highly unlikely. We slowly made our way through the bushes for the next hour, being very careful in our movements, we didn’t want to tip this encampment off that we were about to attack until the moment came when we actually hit them.

A short time later I positioned myself in a small hedge of bushes and pulled my quiver off, and placed in on the ground in a position that would allow we to grab arrows as quickly as I could. The signal for the attack had been agreed upon earlier was a single blast on a horn, this was something that Sir Edmund Delacote would do. I took my nocked bow and raised it up into the air and pointed it at the camp and waited for the signal. I didn’t have long to wait, the sun was just cresting the ridge behind us when the horn called out its cry of death. I acted automatically pulling the bow back to its maximum and releasing the arrow into the morning sky. My hand flashed down to the quiver almost as soon as it released the string to grab the next arrow. I kept this rate of fire up until I reached my hand down to find that there were no more arrows in the quiver. I had fired off twenty-five arrows in roughly three and a half minutes and now I had to drop my bow and head down to the encampment where some members of the raiding party were already engaged in combat with the lutins. As I ran down into the encampment I drew both the Claw of the Dragon and my broadsword, getting them ready for action. As soon as I cleared the trees on the perimeter I found myself almost surrounded by lutins. I grinned at the test to my skills that this provided and began to move through the enemy force in a whirlwind of steel and white fur. After a several moments I sheathed my broadsword grabbed a lutin behind me with my left hand, claws fully extended and wrenched his neck around until it snapped with a dry sounding crack. Now that I had only one sword I began to dance around my own pattern of ‘Sung Dranatk ek Grect’, or in common tongue; The Dance of Death. Each Kelmar Bladelord had his own version of this dance and each one was very lethal to those who were coming up against it. I moved through the horde of lutins in a flowing pattern that left nothing but corpses behind me and blood on my left arm whenever I used it as a weapon in my fight. I was just rising from a crouch after dispatching four lutins with a sweep of my blade when I heard a loud roar sound out, this wasn’t a roar from a member of the raiding party but a roar from the enemy. The sound was full of malice and mindless hatred that even I could detect. I laid my ears back and replied with my own roar. There was a loud thumping sound of footsteps before I finally was able to see what had roared. It was an ugly man shaped beast that was roughly eight and a half feet tall. As it got closer it swung its club at a nearby lutin, sending the unfortunate creature flying up into the air. He then swung his club at one of the members of the other squad that was involved in the raid smashing the poor fellow flatter than a skillet cake. As he swung his club for the third time, this time at me, I dodged out of the way and struck out at him with my own blade. He was bigger than I was but he was also surprisingly quick, he dodged my own strike and swung with his monstrous club again. I just managed to duck underneath the blow at the same time I stabbed upwards with my sword catching the giant man on his thigh, but the sword didn’t penetrate all that far. This was unreal, the Claw of the Dragon had never failed to penetrate anything and yet here it had only managed to create a superficial wound. I rolled out from my dangerous position and came to my feet just out of range of the monster. This was going to take me a little more effort than I had originally planned. The monster didn’t give me all that much time to consider what I should do next as he charged me swinging that huge club over his head. I managed to dodge his next few blows, each time he attacked I would avoid his attacks and counterattack with a slash of my sword. We tramped our way through the encampment fighting our own private fight, while at the same time the forces from the Keep were making quick work of the lutins in the camp. Every so often I had to either ward off a lutin with my free hand or kill it. I found out there that my left hand, with its claw tipped fingers, was very effective in ripping the throats out of a lutin’s neck. Finally after dodging a particularly viscous blow from the monster’s club that hit the ground with a dull thud I swung my sword with both hands at his wrists as he tried to pick the club up again. I was well pleased when the blade sheered through both wrists leaving the monster with nothing but stumps on the end of his arms. He roared and then dashed at me bearing me to the ground with his weight. I was concerned now because in this position this monster could do with me what it wanted to. However, I still had a few tricks up my sleeve, I opened my mouth and clamped my jaws on his throat. All I can say about that is yuck, this guy tasted worse than nine day old moldy porridge. At the same time I kicked his belly with my feet, claws fully extended so that I scored eight long gashes in his belly. They weren’t serious injuries but they were painful, the most dangerous of my actions was definitely my flicking my wrists to unsheathe the stilettos that I had strapped to my bracers. Once those knives were unsheathed I stabbed into the monster with a stiletto in each hand, trying to hit something vital. The monster yowled in pain, even though his throat was now restricted because of my teeth on his neck. Finally it attempted to stand up and I let go and retreated, the monster was bleeding from several different places and it was clearly on its last legs. I managed to sheath my two slender stilettos and picked my sword up off of the ground, where it was covered in gore. Then I dashed in under the monster’s arms and swung the sword once, there was a heavy jerk on my arms followed by an equally heavy thump to the right of us. I stepped back as the now headless body staggered once and then hit the ground with its knees before falling onto it chest with a pathetic wheeze. I shook my head panting to clear my vision before I looked around for more lutins, but it appeared that the encampment was empty of the enemy. I leaned on my sword for a moment before I slowly made my way to the nearby creek where the camp had been getting its fresh water and began trying to get the sticky blood out of my fur, I was covered in gore form the top of my head to my feet. Just as I put my hands into the water when someone came up beside me and said

“Good Lord Oberon, you’re covered in blood are you all right?” I looked at the person and was able to recognize that it was Caroline, Misha’s companion, and one of the four Long Scouts who had been involved in the raid. I grinned slightly

“It;s all mostly from those lutins and that huge monster that I had to fight with. I have a few scratches but nothing really serious.” I commented before I dipped my head into the water and tried to get the blood out of my head-fur.

“You fought a troll?” She asked in surprise. “And won!” I lifted my head up to look her in the eyes before I replied

“It was a hard fight, that thing was faster than I expected with that club. The gods only know how dangerous it wouldn’ve been if it had possessed a sword. It was even tougher when I had disarmed it, since it decided to tackle me and try and fight me at very close quarters. In the end though I managed to remove its head, once that happened the fight was over.” She shook her head while I ran some water through my face-fur and finally managed to say

“That was a troll Oberon. They’ve been known to kill ogres easily and you killed one single-handed. Amazing!”

“Well my sword,” I indicated the weapon with its glowing ruby pommel-stone at my side “, gave me a little assistance when it mattered.”

“Your sword may have helped but I think that you were the one that did most of the fighting.” I chuckled and ran my claws through my throat ruff before I conceded that I would probably need a good bath at the keep to get the stains out of my fur.

“Well when you’re fighting for you life you can exceed even what you know that you can do. Besides that there is the fact that I’ve either been training to fight or fighting for sixty-five years.” Caroline shook her head

“Still it’s incredible that you managed to kill a troll single-handed!” I was cleaning as much blood as I could from my left arm while she spoke before I finally had to concede that even that blood was something that I needed a serious bath to take care of. Since I wasn’t getting anywhere with my impromtu washing here I stood up to my full height before I responded

“That monster was the first really serious challenge to my abilities that I’ve had out here while in the service to the keep, other than that dumb lutin mage a week and a half ago.”

“If a troll is a challenge I don’t want to imagine what would be able to beat you in a fight. A dragon?” I laughed before I interjected

“I have yet to experience their type in battle, though they may be similar to the Night Gryphons from my homeland. Now those are a serious threat to a warrior, no matter how good that warrior is. If you are able to beat one in single combat you are really something special.”

“Up here we thankfully have dragons on our side. Several members of the Keep’s population are dragons, but there are a few dragons that serve our enemies up north.” I nodded my head before rubbing a spot just behind my left ear before I finally said.

“Right now I really wouldn’t appreciate getting into another fight. All I really need is to simply return home to the Keep so that I can get some rest.” She nodded in understanding

“We should be home by nightfall, but don’t let your guard down, we can still be ambushed on the way back to the keep.”

“Oh joy, joy, well at least I can go back to our staging point to pick up my raiding pack with my rations. With some food in my stomach I should be ok for a little while longer.”

“Trail rations may not be tasty but at least they are filling. Though I suspect that a big guy like yourself probably needs at least a dozen of them to begin feeling full.” I smiled at her comment

“I’ve had the cooks at the keep make up triple sized rations for me. That’s better than carrying around a hundred of the bloody things. However, if we are lucky I should be able to track down something that is considerably fresher.” She laughed

“I eat one and I’m full but you need at least a dozen of the standard sized rations to even begin to feel it.”

“I guess that’s the price that a I’ve got to pay for getting a form that is so ideally suited for my profession.”

“Just be glad I don’t share my fish flavoured ones. Misha HATES those with a passion.”

“Fish isn’t all THAT bad is it?”

“Try telling Misha that. He can’t even stand the smell of them. He makes me eat them down wind of him!” I tilted my head back and gave a gruff shout of laughter before I managed to say

“You mean he will actually turn down food?”

“There are certain things even HE won’t eat.”

“Well I know that I can’t touch vegetables, they give me the worst stomachaches and worse. On the other hand if it is a type of meat I can pretty well eat it without too much trouble.”

“Well Misha can eat fish. He just can’t stand the taste of it. All he’ll say on the matter is that he grew up in landlocked country where you simply couldn’t get fish.”

“He wouldn’t have like my home town, I remember that there was a fish market in the central square. Our town was located on the shore of the largest lake in the entire Clanlands.”

“Here at the keep the only fish that we have access to are small river fish or what can be imported from the south!”

“I think I understand.” I commented before I began to walk towards the place where I had concealed my longbow and my quiver. When I reached the bush where I had shot my arrows from I pulled it all from its concealment and placed it on my body, though I still had to go back and retrieve my pack. As I was about to unstring my bow I heard Caroline comment in an interested voice

“That bow is beautiful, can I hold it?”

“Sure thing, though Misha said it was a little on the large side for his taste.” I told her before I handed it to her. She took the bow into her hands and and then exclaimed,

“This thing is huge, its taller than I am! How heavy of a does it have?” as she examined it with a professional eye.

“That bow there has a pull of two hundred and fifty pounds, though the runes on the metal parts make it so that the arrows leave the string as if it had the equivalent force of a bow with a pull resistance of five hundred pounds.”

“FIVE HUNDRED POUNDS?” she exclaimed. “You could put an arrow through several people with that much power.” I shrugged my shoulders before I slowly replied

“I think that I saw several arrows that had gone through more than one lutin back there in the encampment, or at least I think I saw some like that.” She laughed

“Impressive! I’ve never seen a bow this powerful before.”

“Didn’t Misha tell you about this monster of a bow?” She nodded

“He mentioned it but he didn’t tell me that it was this powerful.”

“Well I can’t demonstrate it right now, I used up all of my arrows in the assault on that encampment and I’ll have to make some more when I get back to the keep.”

“Plenty of time back at the keep to shoot arrows.” She commented “After we get a meal and a good night’s sleep.”

“Well before I shoot any arrows I’ll have to make some more because your standard arrows don’t work in that bow.”

“Standard arrows don’t work? She asked in surprise “Why?”

“They aren’t long enough for my bow.” I took the bow back from her and then pulled the string back to my ear. She looked at the distance between the string and the arch of the bow before she finally managed to say

“I’ve never seen arrows that have to by THAT long! They’re more like a javelin than a arrow.”

“So you see why I need to make more. I wasn’t able to recover any of my spent arrows either. Most of them are broken or too deeply embedded in their victims to be pulled out.” I replied before I unstrung the bow and placed it in its soft leather case. While we were walking she said

“You’d best make a lot of arrows Oberon. From what I’ve experienced as a scout and a Long Scout we usually prefer to use bows to pick off our enemies at a distance. Its less of a risk for us that way.” I nodded my head as I headed up to the original launch point of the raid and located my raiding pack and picked it up. I pulled out two trail rations and offered on to Caroline as a simple courtesy. She took the proffered food into her hand and then said

“Thank you Oberon. This thing is huge, I could eat this thing for a week.”

“Your welcome.” I said before I polished off my own ration in four bites. I took a swig of water from my canteen before I mentioned “I guess that we had better be getting back down there, my commander, Lieutenant Jonah will be wondering where I am.” Caroline nibbled at a corner of the ration in her hand. Hmm, beef. Not as good as fish but still good.”

“Sorry I don’t usually request fish in my diet.” Then a brainwave came to me because I remembered something that George had told me about locating something that I needed for making his sword. “By the way Caroline I was wondering if you could ask Misha where he gets his coal from? George tells me that he can get his hands on some anthracite coal and I need some for my own uses.”

“Anthracite coal? The hard coal he used to fix Madog? He has a merchant that brings it in from the Midlands. I can find his name out for you if you would like it.”

“Thank you. I would much appreciate it, I don’t like working with second rate materials when I am making weapons, I absolutely despise cheap materials.” Caroline laughed softly

“Misha prefers it too, even for heating his apartment. He says that it burns longer and hotter than normal coal.” I laughed along with her as we rejoined the rest of the contingent in the center of the clearing where the lutin encampment had been. I looked at her for a moment before I drew my broadsword and held it out to Caroline hilt first.

“Here is an example of what I can do when it comes to creating weapons.” She took the weapon carefully and glanced along the blade.

“This is beautiful. I’ve never seen a sword quite like this. Are you sure that you made this weapon? I’ve never seen a sword this finely made before.” I laughed at her question before I responded

“Would you like me to make a sword like this for you Caroline?” She looked up at me before she managed to reply.

“I would like a new sword, but nothing so big! Can you make something a little more my size? A nice short sword perhaps?”

“I certainly can make one for you fine lady. You will get a fine short-sword and scabbard with a by knife, a sword-belt, and a dagger with a scabbard, they come as a set, like all of my weapons.” She handed my broadsword back to me and said

“All right. Whatever the cost is to make them I am willing to pay for a weapon as fine as that sword of yours.”

“Ok I’ll try and make your order as soon as I’m finished George’s set. Your set will not be cheap though. I estimate the cost for it to be in the area of sixty garrets and furthermore I will need you to drop by my forge as soon as you can tomorrow so that I can take my measurements to make sure that your new weapons are perfectly suited to you.”

“All right. I have the coins, and a little to spare, though I don’t have them here with me right now.” I nodded in understanding

“That’s perfectly ok Caroline. If you wouldn’t mind could you please drop by my forge at nine-o-clock tomorrow morning so that we can get everything worked out.” I told her just before Jonah called out to me

“Oberon get your stripped white tail over here, we’re moving out.”

“I’ll do that. You’d better get going you don’t want to annoy Jonah any more than he already is.” I nodded my head and joined the rest of the squad. Each member of the squad had a few scratches and Jonah had his arm in a sling, though I don’t really think it was really all that serious

“A nice little fight eh Oberon.” I chuckled before I replied

“You can say that again Jonah.” He looked me up and down before he said

“I heard that you had more fun than the rest of us.”

“If you consider troll wrestling to be fun, then I guess that I did have more fun.” He shook his head slightly and sighed before he turned and focussed his attention on the trail ahead of his feet. I looked at the rest of the members of the squad and then settled myself to my own marching rhythm. I was looking forward to a good bath at the bath-house and a full night’s sleep in my own bed tonight.

{{series bar
|previous=[[The Trial]]
|next=[[A Swing at the Mule]]
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The Raid

2017-07-13T06:06:55Z

Lem: correct autospell errors

[[Category:Story]] [[Category:Animal]]
{{DEFAULTSORT: Raid, The}}
[[Category:Metamor Keep]]
[[Category:Oberon]]
{{editing requested}}{{universe|Metamor Keep}}

By: [[User:Oberon|Oberon]]

The trial of Sir Guy DeHarancourt had taken five days, but in the end that particular fanatic had been sentenced to stay in the keep under the supervision of Father Francis Hough, the local priest of the Ecclesia. The reason for the Duke’s appearant mercy was because of the form that Sir DeHarancourt had been given by the Curse of the Keep. He was now in the form of a age regressed wildcat morph, he had also lost his mind in the transformation, he was reduced to the mental state of a child, which I had learned was quite rare here at the keep. I was now free to focus my attention on my work as a member of the Metamor Keep Army Patrol Command. Although during the trial I had managed to repair my battle armour, ensuring that I would be adequately protected when my patrol encountered the enemy, and that was something that was inevitable considering what George had told me when he had assigned me to my current unit. Basically he had told me that he would test the limits of my abilities, so far he had learned of my weakness against magic, other than that I believe that he already knew just how dangerous I really was.

This morning I was able to sleep in because my unit was leaving in the afternoon for our next assignment. When I finally did wake up I had to get ready ready for work. As soon as I had stretched my muscles, tended to my hand and foot claws, and groomed my fur I began to pull on my work clothes.

An hour later I was standing with the rest of the unit while Jonah told us of the mission that we were taking part in.

“Tonight we will be taking part in a combined raid with a squadron of cavalry and a team of Long Scouts. Our target is a lutin encampment that lies only half a days ride from here. The reason we must attack together is because this encampment is larger than any one of our units alone can handle, but together our units will be able to destroy this threat against our people.” I was glad that I had decided that I would only take my light raiders pack. It contained only the barest of essentials, four days rations, a field medicine kit, and a few odds and ends. In my side pouch on my belt I carried two spare bowstrings for my monster of a longbow, and my tinderbox. When I was involved in raiding I preferred to pack light so that I could move fast. I was talking with Trent, the bison morph, about a battle that he had fought in more than ten years ago, when there was a clatter of horse hooves as the cavalry detachment that was to take part in the raid joined us. The leader of the squad was none other than the Knight Sir Edmund Delacote, though he was riding a lighter horse than was normal for a knight. Then again that was to be expected considering the fact that he now possessed the slender figure of a cheetah morph. He looked around at the people gathered in the courtyard before he asked Jonah something about our unit. Jonah laughed before he replied, even with my sensitive hearing I wasn’t able to pick up what he had said. After several more minutes Jonah finally turned and said “Ok everyone lets move out, we’ve got a lot of terrain to cover and only a few hours to cover it before darkness comes.” Almost as soon as I got under way Jonah asked me why I was moving so quickly

“Sir in the past when I’ve conducted raiding operations the imperative was to hit the enemy by moving as fast as possible.”

“Oberon we also must hit them while we are strong and fresh, therefore we must try and conserve our strength.” I nodded and scaled back my speed of movement a little, but I was still moving pretty quickly. Our unit moved quickly and quietly through the trees towards the enemy encampment for several hours, the cavalry was following behind us on previously established paths while we made our own paths into the wilderness. Of course we knew that we were preceded by at least two Long Scouts who were conducting reconnaissance of the enemy camp and determine what direction that we would attack from. We marched through most of the night to at a point fairly close to the camp. When we stopped I crouched down and pulled off my raiding pack and placed it under a tree, but not before I took out two of my large trail rations from the pack. Once I was happy that it was properly concealed I consumed the rations with a little water from a canteen before I hid that item as well. As I checked over my equipment a Long Scout that I recognized as Finbar, came over to Jonah and said softly, though not too softly for my sensitive ears to pick up

“We’ve managed to take out most of their sentries, especially on the side where the cavalry will be hitting them but you could be in for a tough fight, I thought I smelled a troll out here.”

“A troll, that wasn’t exactly in the plan.”

“Well then I guess that we will have to alter the plan.”

“I’ve never faced a troll before other than back at the Battle of Three Gates and during the Yuletide Attack, and that was when I was comfortably behind a good sized wall.”

“Well we’ll just have to make due under the circumstances.”

"It won't be easy to kill that."

"Well I have a couple big guys in my unit who might be able to do the job, one is especially dangerous."

"The troll will be the big problem. the rest we can kill easy enough. We can try and lure him into an ambush." Jonah pointed over to me and Kent before he replied

"In case ambushing the troll doesn't work those two are going to take care of it."

“Oberon can handle it." Finbar jokes. "He's as big as a troll!"

"And twice as quick." Interjects Jonah with a chuckle. At that commend Finbar laughed before he regained his composure and spread a map out onto the ground and began to point out a few salient features in the camp that was our objective. While they were taking care of those little details I checked my bow and pulled an arrow out of my quiver and nocked it without drawing the bow. I wanted to be ready in case we were expected by the lutins even though that was highly unlikely. We slowly made our way through the bushes for the next hour, being very careful in our movements, we didn’t want to tip this encampment off that we were about to attack until the moment came when we actually hit them.

A short time later I positioned myself in a small hedge of bushes and pulled my quiver off, and placed in on the ground in a position that would allow we to grab arrows as quickly as I could. The signal for the attack had been agreed upon earlier was a single blast on a horn, this was something that Sir Edmund Delacote would do. I took my nocked bow and raised it up into the air and pointed it at the camp and waited for the signal. I didn’t have long to wait, the sun was just cresting the ridge behind us when the horn called out its cry of death. I acted automatically pulling the bow back to its maximum and releasing the arrow into the morning sky. My hand flashed down to the quiver almost as soon as it released the string to grab the next arrow. I kept this rate of fire up until I reached my hand down to find that there were no more arrows in the quiver. I had fired off twenty-five arrows in roughly three and a half minutes and now I had to drop my bow and head down to the encampment where some members of the raiding party were already engaged in combat with the lutins. As I ran down into the encampment I drew both the Claw of the Dragon and my broadsword, getting them ready for action. As soon as I cleared the trees on the perimeter I found myself almost surrounded by lutins. I grinned at the test to my skills that this provided and began to move through the enemy force in a whirlwind of steel and white fur. After a several moments I sheathed my broadsword grabbed a lutin behind me with my left hand, claws fully extended and wrenched his neck around until it snapped with a dry sounding crack. Now that I had only one sword I began to dance around my own pattern of ‘Sung Dranatk ek Grect’, or in common tongue; The Dance of Death. Each Kelmar Bladelord had his own version of this dance and each one was very lethal to those who were coming up against it. I moved through the horde of lutins in a flowing pattern that left nothing but corpses behind me and blood on my left arm whenever I used it as a weapon in my fight. I was just rising from a crouch after dispatching four lutins with a sweep of my blade when I heard a loud roar sound out, this wasn’t a roar from a member of the raiding party but a roar from the enemy. The sound was full of malice and mindless hatred that even I could detect. I laid my ears back and replied with my own roar. There was a loud thumping sound of footsteps before I finally was able to see what had roared. It was an ugly man shaped beast that was roughly eight and a half feet tall. As it got closer it swung its club at a nearby lutin, sending the unfortunate creature flying up into the air. He then swung his club at one of the members of the other squad that was involved in the raid smashing the poor fellow flatter than a skillet cake. As he swung his club for the third time, this time at me, I dodged out of the way and struck out at him with my own blade. He was bigger than I was but he was also surprisingly quick, he dodged my own strike and swung with his monstrous club again. I just managed to duck underneath the blow at the same time I stabbed upwards with my sword catching the giant man on his thigh, but the sword didn’t penetrate all that far. This was unreal, the Claw of the Dragon had never failed to penetrate anything and yet here it had only managed to create a superficial wound. I rolled out from my dangerous position and came to my feet just out of range of the monster. This was going to take me a little more effort than I had originally planned. The monster didn’t give me all that much time to consider what I should do next as he charged me swinging that huge club over his head. I managed to dodge his next few blows, each time he attacked I would avoid his attacks and counterattack with a slash of my sword. We tramped our way through the encampment fighting our own private fight, while at the same time the forces from the Keep were making quick work of the lutins in the camp. Every so often I had to either ward off a lutin with my free hand or kill it. I found out there that my left hand, with its claw tipped fingers, was very effective in ripping the throats out of a lutin’s neck. Finally after dodging a particularly viscous blow from the monster’s club that hit the ground with a dull thud I swung my sword with both hands at his wrists as he tried to pick the club up again. I was well pleased when the blade sheered through both wrists leaving the monster with nothing but stumps on the end of his arms. He roared and then dashed at me bearing me to the ground with his weight. I was concerned now because in this position this monster could do with me what it wanted to. However, I still had a few tricks up my sleeve, I opened my mouth and clamped my jaws on his throat. All I can say about that is yuck, this guy tasted worse than nine day old moldy porridge. At the same time I kicked his belly with my feet, claws fully extended so that I scored eight long gashes in his belly. They weren’t serious injuries but they were painful, the most dangerous of my actions was definitely my flicking my wrists to unsheathe the stilettos that I had strapped to my bracers. Once those knives were unsheathed I stabbed into the monster with a stiletto in each hand, trying to hit something vital. The monster yowled in pain, even though his throat was now restricted because of my teeth on his neck. Finally it attempted to stand up and I let go and retreated, the monster was bleeding from several different places and it was clearly on its last legs. I managed to sheath my two slender stilettos and picked my sword up off of the ground, where it was covered in gore. Then I dashed in under the monster’s arms and swung the sword once, there was a heavy jerk on my arms followed by an equally heavy thump to the right of us. I stepped back as the now headless body staggered once and then hit the ground with its knees before falling onto it chest with a pathetic wheeze. I shook my head panting to clear my vision before I looked around for more lutins, but it appeared that the encampment was empty of the enemy. I leaned on my sword for a moment before I slowly made my way to the nearby creek where the camp had been getting its fresh water and began trying to get the sticky blood out of my fur, I was covered in gore form the top of my head to my feet. Just as I put my hands into the water when someone came up beside me and said

“Good Lord Oberon, you’re covered in blood are you all right?” I looked at the person and was able to recognize that it was Caroline, Misha’s companion, and one of the four Long Scouts who had been involved in the raid. I grinned slightly

“It;s all mostly from those lutins and that huge monster that I had to fight with. I have a few scratches but nothing really serious.” I commented before I dipped my head into the water and tried to get the blood out of my head-fur.

“You fought a troll?” She asked in surprise. “And won!” I lifted my head up to look her in the eyes before I replied

“It was a hard fight, that thing was faster than I expected with that club. The gods only know how dangerous it wouldn’ve been if it had possessed a sword. It was even tougher when I had disarmed it, since it decided to tackle me and try and fight me at very close quarters. In the end though I managed to remove its head, once that happened the fight was over.” She shook her head while I ran some water through my face-fur and finally managed to say

“That was a troll Oberon. They’ve been known to kill ogres easily and you killed one single-handed. Amazing!”

“Well my sword,” I indicated the weapon with its glowing ruby pommel-stone at my side “, gave me a little assistance when it mattered.”

“Your sword may have helped but I think that you were the one that did most of the fighting.” I chuckled and ran my claws through my throat ruff before I conceded that I would probably need a good bath at the keep to get the stains out of my fur.

“Well when you’re fighting for you life you can exceed even what you know that you can do. Besides that there is the fact that I’ve either been training to fight or fighting for sixty-five years.” Caroline shook her head

“Still it’s incredible that you managed to kill a troll single-handed!” I was cleaning as much blood as I could from my left arm while she spoke before I finally had to concede that even that blood was something that I needed a serious bath to take care of. Since I wasn’t getting anywhere with my impromtu washing here I stood up to my full height before I responded

“That monster was the first really serious challenge to my abilities that I’ve had out here while in the service to the keep, other than that dumb lutin mage a week and a half ago.”

“If a troll is a challenge I don’t want to what would be able to beat you in a fight. A dragon?” I laughed before I interjected

“I have yet to experience their type in battle, though they may be similar to the Night Gryphons from my homeland. Now those are a serious threat to a warrior, no matter how good that warrior is. If you are able to beat one in single combat you are really something special.”

“Up here we thankfully have dragons on our side. Several members of the Keep’s population are dragons, but there are a few dragons that serve our enemies up north.” I nodded my head before rubbing a spot just behind my left ear before I finally said.

“Right now I really wouldn’t appreciate getting into another fight. All I really need is to simply return home to the Keep so that I can get some rest.” She nodded in understanding

“We should be home by nightfall, but don’t let your guard down, we can still be ambushed on the way back to the keep.”

“Oh joy, joy, well at least I can go back to our staging point to pick up my raiding pack with my rations. With some food in my stomach I should be ok for a little while longer.”

“Trail rations may not be tasty but at least they are filling. Though I suspect that a big guy like yourself probably needs at least a dozen of them to begin feeling full.” I smiled at her comment

“I’ve had the cooks at the keep make up triple sized rations for me. That’s better than carrying around a hundred of the bloody things. However, if we are lucky I should be able to track down something that is considerably fresher.” She laughed

“I eat one and I’m full but you need at least a dozen of the standard sized rations to even begin to feel it.”

“I guess that’s the price that a I’ve got to pay for getting a form that is so ideally suited for my profession.”

“Just be glad I don’t share my fish flavoured ones. Misha HATES those with a passion.”

“Fish isn’t all THAT bad is it?”

“Try telling Misha that. He can’t even stand the smell of them. He makes me eat them down wind of him!” I tilted my head back and gave a gruff shout of laughter before I managed to say

“You mean he will actually turn down food?”

“There are certain things even HE won’t eat.”

“Well I know that I can’t touch vegetables, they give me the worst stomachaches and worse. On the other hand if it is a type of meat I can pretty well eat it without too much trouble.”

“Well Misha can eat fish. He just can’t stand the taste of it. All he’ll say on the matter is that he grew up in landlocked country where you simply couldn’t get fish.”

“He wouldn’t have like my home town, I remember that there was a fish market in the central square. Our town was located on the shore of the largest lake in the entire Clanlands.”

“Here at the keep the only fish that we have access to are small river fish or what can be imported from the south!”

“I think I understand.” I commented before I began to walk towards the place where I had concealed my longbow and my quiver. When I reached the bush where I had shot my arrows from I pulled it all from its concealment and placed it on my body, though I still had to go back and retrieve my pack. As I was about to unstring my bow I heard Caroline comment in an interested voice

“That bow is beautiful, can I hold it?”

“Sure thing, though Misha said it was a little on the large side for his taste.” I told her before I handed it to her. She took the bow into her hands and and then exclaimed,

“This thing is huge, its taller than I am! How heavy of a does it have?” as she examined it with a professional eye.

“That bow there has a pull of two hundred and fifty pounds, though the runes on the metal parts make it so that the arrows leave the string as if it had the equivalent force of a bow with a pull resistance of five hundred pounds.”

“FIVE HUNDRED POUNDS?” she exclaimed. “You could put an arrow through several people with that much power.” I shrugged my shoulders before I slowly replied

“I think that I saw several arrows that had gone through more than one lutin back there in the encampment, or at least I think I saw some like that.” She laughed

“Impressive! I’ve never seen a bow this powerful before.”

“Didn’t Misha tell you about this monster of a bow?” She nodded

“He mentioned it but he didn’t tell me that it was this powerful.”

“Well I can’t demonstrate it right now, I used up all of my arrows in the assault on that encampment and I’ll have to make some more when I get back to the keep.”

“Plenty of time back at the keep to shoot arrows.” She commented “After we get a meal and a good night’s sleep.”

“Well before I shoot any arrows I’ll have to make some more because your standard arrows don’t work in that bow.”

“Standard arrows don’t work? She asked in surprise “Why?”

“They aren’t long enough for my bow.” I took the bow back from her and then pulled the string back to my ear. She looked at the distance between the string and the arch of the bow before she finally managed to say

“I’ve never seen arrows that have to by THAT long! They’re more like a javelin than a arrow.”

“So you see why I need to make more. I wasn’t able to recover any of my spent arrows either. Most of them are broken or too deeply embedded in their victims to be pulled out.” I replied before I unstrung the bow and placed it in its soft leather case. While we were walking she said

“You’d best make a lot of arrows Oberon. From what I’ve experienced as a scout and a Long Scout we usually prefer to use bows to pick off our enemies at a distance. Its less of a risk for us that way.” I nodded my head as I headed up to the original launch point of the raid and located my raiding pack and picked it up. I pulled out two trail rations and offered on to Caroline as a simple courtesy. She took the proffered food into her hand and then said

“Thank you Oberon. This thing is huge, I could eat this thing for a week.”

“Your welcome.” I said before I polished off my own ration in four bites. I took a swig of water from my canteen before I mentioned “I guess that we had better be getting back down there, my commander, Lieutenant Jonah will be wondering where I am.” Caroline nibbled at a corner of the ration in her hand. Hmm, beef. Not as good as fish but still good.”

“Sorry I don’t usually request fish in my diet.” Then a brainwave came to me because I remembered something that George had told me about locating something that I needed for making his sword. “By the way Caroline I was wondering if you could ask Misha where he gets his coal from? George tells me that he can get his hands on some anthracite coal and I need some for my own uses.”

“Anthracite coal? The hard coal he used to fix Madog? He has a merchant that brings it in from the Midlands. I can find his name out for you if you would like it.”

“Thank you. I would much appreciate it, I don’t like working with second rate materials when I am making weapons, I absolutely despise cheap materials.” Caroline laughed softly

“Misha prefers it too, even for heating his apartment. He says that it burns longer and hotter than normal coal.” I laughed along with her as we rejoined the rest of the contingent in the center of the clearing where the lutin encampment had been. I looked at her for a moment before I drew my broadsword and held it out to Caroline hilt first.

“Here is an example of what I can do when it comes to creating weapons.” She took the weapon carefully and glanced along the blade.

“This is beautiful. I’ve never seen a sword quite like this. Are you sure that you made this weapon? I’ve never seen a sword this finely made before.” I laughed at her question before I responded

“Would you like me to make a sword like this for you Caroline?” She looked up at me before she managed to reply.

“I would like a new sword, but nothing so big! Can you make something a little more my size? A nice short sword perhaps?”

“I certainly can make one for you fine lady. You will get a fine short-sword and scabbard with a by knife, a sword-belt, and a dagger with a scabbard, they come as a set, like all of my weapons.” She handed my broadsword back to me and said

“All right. Whatever the cost is to make them I am willing to pay for a weapon as fine as that sword of yours.”

“Ok I’ll try and make your order as soon as I’m finished George’s set. Your set will not be cheap though. I estimate the cost for it to be in the area of sixty garrets and furthermore I will need you to drop by my forge as soon as you can tomorrow so that I can take my measurements to make sure that your new weapons are perfectly suited to you.”

“All right. I have the coins, and a little to spare, though I don’t have them here with me right now.” I nodded in understanding

“That’s perfectly ok Caroline. If you wouldn’t mind could you please drop by my forge at nine-o-clock tomorrow morning so that we can get everything worked out.” I told her just before Jonah called out to me

“Oberon get your stripped white tail over here, we’re moving out.”

“I’ll do that. You’d better get going you don’t want to annoy Jonah any more than he already is.” I nodded my head and joined the rest of the squad. Each member of the squad had a few scratches and Jonah had his arm in a sling, though I don’t really think it was really all that serious

“A nice little fight eh Oberon.” I chuckled before I replied

“You can say that again Jonah.” He looked me up and down before he said

“I heard that you had more fun than the rest of us.”

“If you consider troll wrestling to be fun, then I guess that I did have more fun.” He shook his head slightly and sighed before he turned and focussed his attention on the trail ahead of his feet. I looked at the rest of the members of the squad and then settled myself to my own marching rhythm. I was looking forward to a good bath at the bath-house and a full night’s sleep in my own bed tonight.

{{series bar
|previous=[[The Trial]]
|next=[[A Swing at the Mule]]
}}

The Raid

2017-07-13T06:03:31Z

Lem: correct autospell errors

[[Category:Story]] [[Category:Animal]]
{{DEFAULTSORT: Raid, The}}
[[Category:Metamor Keep]]
[[Category:Oberon]]
{{editing requested}}{{universe|Metamor Keep}}

By: [[User:Oberon|Oberon]]

The trial of Sir Guy DeHarancourt had taken five days, but in the end that particular fanatic had been sentenced to stay in the keep under the supervision of Father Francis Hough, the local priest of the Ecclesia. The reason for the Duke’s appearant mercy was because of the form that Sir DeHarancourt had been given by the Curse of the Keep. He was now in the form of a age regressed wildcat morph, he had also lost his mind in the transformation, he was reduced to the mental state of a child, which I had learned was quite rare here at the keep. I was now free to focus my attention on my work as a member of the Metamor Keep Army Patrol Command. Although during the trial I had managed to repair my battle armour, ensuring that I would be adequately protected when my patrol encountered the enemy, and that was something that was inevitable considering what George had told me when he had assigned me to my current unit. Basically he had told me that he would test the limits of my abilities, so far he had learned of my weakness against magic, other than that I believe that he already knew just how dangerous I really was.

This morning I was able to sleep in because my unit was leaving in the afternoon for our next assignment. When I finally did wake up I had to get ready ready for work. As soon as I had stretched my muscles, tended to my hand and foot claws, and groomed my fur I began to pull on my work clothes.

An hour later I was standing with the rest of the unit while Jonah told us of the mission that we were taking part in.

“Tonight we will be taking part in a combined raid with a squadron of cavalry and a team of Long Scouts. Our target is a lutin encampment that lies only half a days ride from here. The reason we must attack together is because this encampment is larger than any one of our units alone can handle, but together our units will be able to destroy this threat against our people.” I was glad that I had decided that I would only take my light raiders pack. It contained only the barest of essentials, four days rations, a field medicine kit, and a few odds and ends. In my side pouch on my belt I carried two spare bowstrings for my monster of a longbow, and my tinderbox. When I was involved in raiding I preferred to pack light so that I could move fast. I was talking with Trent, the bison morph, about a battle that he had fought in more than ten years ago, when there was a clatter of horse hooves as the cavalry detachment that was to take part in the raid joined us. The leader of the squad was none other than the Knight Sir Edmund Delacote, though he was riding a lighter horse than was normal for a knight. Then again that was to be expected considering the fact that he now possessed the slender figure of a cheetah morph. He looked around at the people gathered in the courtyard before he asked Jonah something about our unit. Jonah laughed before he replied, even with my sensitive hearing I wasn’t able to pick up what he had said. After several more minutes Jonah finally turned and said “Ok everyone lets move out, we’ve got a lot of terrain to cover and only a few hours to cover it before darkness comes.” Almost as soon as I got under way Jonah asked me why I was moving so quickly

“Sir in the past when I’ve conducted raiding operations the imperative was to hit the enemy by moving as fast as possible.”

“Oberon we also must hit them while we are strong and fresh, therefore we must try and conserve our strength.” I nodded and scaled back my speed of movement a little, but I was still moving pretty quickly. Our unit moved quickly and quietly through the trees towards the enemy encampment for several hours, the cavalry was following behind us on previously established paths while we made our own paths into the wilderness. Of course we knew that we were preceded by at least two Long Scouts who were conducting reconnaissance of the enemy camp and determine what direction that we would attack from. We marched through most of the night to at a point fairly close to the camp. When we stopped I crouched down and pulled off my raiding pack and placed it under a tree, but not before I took out two of my large trail rations from the pack. Once I was happy that it was properly concealed I consumed the rations with a little water from a canteen before I hid that item as well. As I checked over my equipment a Long Scout that I recognized as Finbar, came over to Jonah and said softly, though not too softly for my sensitive ears to pick up

“We’ve managed to take out most of their sentries, especially on the side where the cavalry will be hitting them but you could be in for a tough fight, I thought I smelled a troll out here.”

“A troll, that wasn’t exactly in the plan.”

“Well then I guess that we will have to alter the plan.”

“I’ve never faced a troll before other than back at the Battle of Three Gates and during the Yuletide Attack, and that was when I was comfortably behind a good sized wall.”

“Well we’ll just have to make due under the circumstances.”

"It won't be easy to kill that."

"Well I have a couple big guys in my unit who might be able to do the job, one is especially dangerous."

"The troll will be the big problem. the rest we can kill easy enough. We can try and lure him into an ambush." Jonah pointed over to me and Kent before he replied

"In case ambushing the troll doesn't work those two are going to take care of it."

“Oberon can handle it." Finbar jokes. "He's as big as a troll!"

"And twice as quick." Interjects Jonah with a chuckle. At that commend Finbar laughed before he regained his composure and spread a map out onto the ground and began to point out a few salient features in the camp that was our objective. While they were taking care of those little details I checked my bow and pulled an arrow out of my quiver and nocked it without drawing the bow. I wanted to be ready in case we were expected by the lutins even though that was highly unlikely. We slowly made our way through the bushes for the next hour, being very careful in our movements, we didn’t want to tip this encampment off that we were about to attack until the moment came when we actually hit them.

A short time later I positioned myself in a small hedge of bushes and pulled my quiver off, and placed in on the ground in a position that would allow we to grab arrows as quickly as I could. The signal for the attack had been agreed upon earlier was a single blast on a horn, this was something that Sir Edmund Delacote would do. I took my nocked bow and raised it up into the air and pointed it at the camp and waited for the signal. I didn’t have long to wait, the sun was just cresting the ridge behind us when the horn called out its cry of death. I acted automatically pulling the bow back to its maximum and releasing the arrow into the morning sky. My hand flashed down to the quiver almost as soon as it released the string to grab the next arrow. I kept this rate of fire up until I reached my hand down to find that there were no more arrows in the quiver. I had fired off twenty-five arrows in roughly three and a half minutes and now I had to drop my bow and head down to the encampment where some members of the raiding party were already engaged in combat with the lutins. As I ran down into the encampment I drew both the Claw of the Dragon and my broadsword, getting them ready for action. As soon as I cleared the trees on the perimeter I found myself almost surrounded by lutins. I grinned at the test to my skills that this provided and began to move through the enemy force in a whirlwind of steel and white fur. After a several moments I sheathed my broadsword grabbed a lutin behind me with my left hand, claws fully extended and wrenched his neck around until it snapped with a dry sounding crack. Now that I had only one sword I began to dance around my own pattern of ‘Sung Dranatk ek Grect’, or in common tongue; The Dance of Death. Each Kelmar Bladelord had his own version of this dance and each one was very lethal to those who were coming up against it. I moved through the horde of lutins in a flowing pattern that left nothing but corpses behind me and blood on my left arm whenever I used it as a weapon in my fight. I was just rising from a crouch after dispatching four lutins with a sweep of my blade when I heard a loud roar sound out, this wasn’t a roar from a member of the raiding party but a roar from the enemy. The sound was full of malice and mindless hatred that even I could detect. I laid my ears back and replied with my own roar. There was a loud thumping sound of footsteps before I finally was able to see what had roared. It was an ugly man shaped beast that was roughly eight and a half feet tall. As it got closer it swung its club at a nearby lutin, sending the unfortunate creature flying up into the air. He then swung his club at one of the members of the other squad that was involved in the raid smashing the poor fellow flatter than a skillet cake. As he swung his club for the third time, this time at me, I dodged out of the way and struck out at him with my own blade. He was bigger than I was but he was also surprisingly quick, he dodged my own strike and swung with his monstrous club again. I just managed to duck underneath the blow at the same time I stabbed upwards with my sword catching the giant man on his thigh, but the sword didn’t penetrate all that far. This was unreal, the Claw of the Dragon had never failed to penetrate anything and yet here it had only managed to create a superficial wound. I rolled out from my dangerous position and came to my feet just out of range of the monster. This was going to take me a little more effort than I had originally planned. The monster didn’t give me all that much time to consider what I should do next as he charged me swinging that huge club over his head. I managed to dodge his next few blows, each time he attacked I would avoid his attacks and counterattack with a slash of my sword. We tramped our way through the encampment fighting our own private fight, while at the same time the forces from the Keep were making quick work of the lutins in the camp. Every so often I had to either ward off a lutin with my free hand or kill it. I found out there that my left hand, with its claw tipped fingers, was very effective in ripping the throats out of a lutin’s neck. Finally after dodging a particularly viscous blow from the monster’s club that hit the ground with a dull thud I swung my sword with both hands at his wrists as he tried to pick the club up again. I was well pleased when the when the blade sheered through both wrists leaving the monster with nothing but stumps on the end of his arms. He roared and then dashed at me bearing me to the ground with his weight. I was concerned now because in this position this monster could do with me what it wanted to. However, I still had a few tricks up my sleeve, I opened my mouth and clamped my jaws on his throat. All I can say about that is yuck, this guy tasted worse than nine day old moldy porridge. At the same time I kicked his belly with my feet, claws fully extended so that I scored eight long gashes in his belly. They weren’t serious injuries but they were painful, the most dangerous of my actions was definitely my flicking my wrists to unsheathe the stilettos that I had strapped to my bracers. Once those knives were unsheathed I stabbed into the monster with a stiletto in each hand, trying to hit something vital. The monster yowled in pain, even though his throat was now restricted because of my teeth on his neck. Finally it attempted to stand up and I let go and retreated, the monster was bleeding from several different places and it was clearly on its last legs. I managed to sheath my two slender stilettos and picked my sword up off of the ground, where it was covered in gore. Then I dashed in under the monster’s arms and swung the sword once, there was a heavy jerk on my arms followed by an equally heavy thump to the right of us. I stepped back as the now headless body staggered once and then hit the ground with its knees before falling onto it chest with a pathetic wheeze. I shook my head panting to clear my vision before I looked around for more lutins, but it appeared that the encampment was empty of the enemy. I leaned on my sword for a moment before I slowly made my way to the nearby creek where the camp had been getting its fresh water and began trying to get the sticky blood out of my fur, I was covered in gore form the top of my head to my feet. Just as I put my hands into the water when someone came up beside me and said

“Good Lord Oberon, you’re covered in blood are you all right?” I looked at the person and was able to recognize that it was Caroline, Misha’s companion, and one of the four Long Scouts who had been involved in the raid. I grinned slightly

“It;s all mostly from those lutins and that huge monster that I had to fight with. I have a few scratches but nothing really serious.” I commented before I dipped my head into the water and tried to get the blood out of my head-fur.

“You fought a troll?” She asked in surprise. “And won!” I lifted my head up to look her in the eyes before I replied

“It was a hard fight, that thing was faster than I expected with that club. The gods only know how dangerous it wouldn’ve been if it had possessed a sword. It was even tougher when I had disarmed it, since it decided to tackle me and try and fight me at very close quarters. In the end though I managed to remove its head, once that happened the fight was over.” She shook her head while I ran some water through my face-fur and finally managed to say

“That was a troll Oberon. They’ve been known to kill ogres easily and you killed one single-handed. Amazing!”

“Well my sword,” I indicated the weapon with its glowing ruby pommel-stone at my side “, gave me a little assistance when it mattered.”

“Your sword may have helped but I think that you were the one that did most of the fighting.” I chuckled and ran my claws through my throat ruff before I conceded that I would probably need a good bath at the keep to get the stains out of my fur.

“Well when you’re fighting for you life you can exceed even what you know that you can do. Besides that there is the fact that I’ve either been training to fight or fighting for sixty-five years.” Caroline shook her head

“Still it’s incredible that you managed to kill a troll single-handed!” I was cleaning as much blood as I could from my left arm while she spoke before I finally had to concede that even that blood was something that I needed a serious bath to take care of. Since I wasn’t getting anywhere with my impromtu washing here I stood up to my full height before I responded

“That monster was the first really serious challenge to my abilities that I’ve had out here while in the service to the keep, other than that dumb lutin mage a week and a half ago.”

“If a troll is a challenge I don’t want to what would be able to beat you in a fight. A dragon?” I laughed before I interjected

“I have yet to experience their type in battle, though they may be similar to the Night Gryphons from my homeland. Now those are a serious threat to a warrior, no matter how good that warrior is. If you are able to beat one in single combat you are really something special.”

“Up here we thankfully have dragons on our side. Several members of the Keep’s population are dragons, but there are a few dragons that serve our enemies up north.” I nodded my head before rubbing a spot just behind my left ear before I finally said.

“Right now I really wouldn’t appreciate getting into another fight. All I really need is to simply return home to the Keep so that I can get some rest.” She nodded in understanding

“We should be home by nightfall, but don’t let your guard down, we can still be ambushed on the way back to the keep.”

“Oh joy, joy, well at least I can go back to our staging point to pick up my raiding pack with my rations. With some food in my stomach I should be ok for a little while longer.”

“Trail rations may not be tasty but at least they are filling. Though I suspect that a big guy like yourself probably needs at least a dozen of them to begin feeling full.” I smiled at her comment

“I’ve had the cooks at the keep make up triple sized rations for me. That’s better than carrying around a hundred of the bloody things. However, if we are lucky I should be able to track down something that is considerably fresher.” She laughed

“I eat one and I’m full but you need at least a dozen of the standard sized rations to even begin to feel it.”

“I guess that’s the price that a I’ve got to pay for getting a form that is so ideally suited for my profession.”

“Just be glad I don’t share my fish flavoured ones. Misha HATES those with a passion.”

“Fish isn’t all THAT bad is it?”

“Try telling Misha that. He can’t even stand the smell of them. He makes me eat them down wind of him!” I tilted my head back and gave a gruff shout of laughter before I managed to say

“You mean he will actually turn down food?”

“There are certain things even HE won’t eat.”

“Well I know that I can’t touch vegetables, they give me the worst stomachaches and worse. On the other hand if it is a type of meat I can pretty well eat it without too much trouble.”

“Well Misha can eat fish. He just can’t stand the taste of it. All he’ll say on the matter is that he grew up in landlocked country where you simply couldn’t get fish.”

“He wouldn’t have like my home town, I remember that there was a fish market in the central square. Our town was located on the shore of the largest lake in the entire Clanlands.”

“Here at the keep the only fish that we have access to are small river fish or what can be imported from the south!”

“I think I understand.” I commented before I began to walk towards the place where I had concealed my longbow and my quiver. When I reached the bush where I had shot my arrows from I pulled it all from its concealment and placed it on my body, though I still had to go back and retrieve my pack. As I was about to unstring my bow I heard Caroline comment in an interested voice

“That bow is beautiful, can I hold it?”

“Sure thing, though Misha said it was a little on the large side for his taste.” I told her before I handed it to her. She took the bow into her hands and and then exclaimed,

“This thing is huge, its taller than I am! How heavy of a does it have?” as she examined it with a professional eye.

“That bow there has a pull of two hundred and fifty pounds, though the runes on the metal parts make it so that the arrows leave the string as if it had the equivalent force of a bow with a pull resistance of five hundred pounds.”

“FIVE HUNDRED POUNDS?” she exclaimed. “You could put an arrow through several people with that much power.” I shrugged my shoulders before I slowly replied

“I think that I saw several arrows that had gone through more than one lutin back there in the encampment, or at least I think I saw some like that.” She laughed

“Impressive! I’ve never seen a bow this powerful before.”

“Didn’t Misha tell you about this monster of a bow?” She nodded

“He mentioned it but he didn’t tell me that it was this powerful.”

“Well I can’t demonstrate it right now, I used up all of my arrows in the assault on that encampment and I’ll have to make some more when I get back to the keep.”

“Plenty of time back at the keep to shoot arrows.” She commented “After we get a meal and a good night’s sleep.”

“Well before I shoot any arrows I’ll have to make some more because your standard arrows don’t work in that bow.”

“Standard arrows don’t work? She asked in surprise “Why?”

“They aren’t long enough for my bow.” I took the bow back from her and then pulled the string back to my ear. She looked at the distance between the string and the arch of the bow before she finally managed to say

“I’ve never seen arrows that have to by THAT long! They’re more like a javelin than a arrow.”

“So you see why I need to make more. I wasn’t able to recover any of my spent arrows either. Most of them are broken or too deeply embedded in their victims to be pulled out.” I replied before I unstrung the bow and placed it in its soft leather case. While we were walking she said

“You’d best make a lot of arrows Oberon. From what I’ve experienced as a scout and a Long Scout we usually prefer to use bows to pick off our enemies at a distance. Its less of a risk for us that way.” I nodded my head as I headed up to the original launch point of the raid and located my raiding pack and picked it up. I pulled out two trail rations and offered on to Caroline as a simple courtesy. She took the proffered food into her hand and then said

“Thank you Oberon. This thing is huge, I could eat this thing for a week.”

“Your welcome.” I said before I polished off my own ration in four bites. I took a swig of water from my canteen before I mentioned “I guess that we had better be getting back down there, my commander, Lieutenant Jonah will be wondering where I am.” Caroline nibbled at a corner of the ration in her hand. Hmm, beef. Not as good as fish but still good.”

“Sorry I don’t usually request fish in my diet.” Then a brainwave came to me because I remembered something that George had told me about locating something that I needed for making his sword. “By the way Caroline I was wondering if you could ask Misha where he gets his coal from? George tells me that he can get his hands on some anthracite coal and I need some for my own uses.”

“Anthracite coal? The hard coal he used to fix Madog? He has a merchant that brings it in from the Midlands. I can find his name out for you if you would like it.”

“Thank you. I would much appreciate it, I don’t like working with second rate materials when I am making weapons, I absolutely despise cheap materials.” Caroline laughed softly

“Misha prefers it too, even for heating his apartment. He says that it burns longer and hotter than normal coal.” I laughed along with her as we rejoined the rest of the contingent in the center of the clearing where the lutin encampment had been. I looked at her for a moment before I drew my broadsword and held it out to Caroline hilt first.

“Here is an example of what I can do when it comes to creating weapons.” She took the weapon carefully and glanced along the blade.

“This is beautiful. I’ve never seen a sword quite like this. Are you sure that you made this weapon? I’ve never seen a sword this finely made before.” I laughed at her question before I responded

“Would you like me to make a sword like this for you Caroline?” She looked up at me before she managed to reply.

“I would like a new sword, but nothing so big! Can you make something a little more my size? A nice short sword perhaps?”

“I certainly can make one for you fine lady. You will get a fine short-sword and scabbard with a by knife, a sword-belt, and a dagger with a scabbard, they come as a set, like all of my weapons.” She handed my broadsword back to me and said

“All right. Whatever the cost is to make them I am willing to pay for a weapon as fine as that sword of yours.”

“Ok I’ll try and make your order as soon as I’m finished George’s set. Your set will not be cheap though. I estimate the cost for it to be in the area of sixty garrets and furthermore I will need you to drop by my forge as soon as you can tomorrow so that I can take my measurements to make sure that your new weapons are perfectly suited to you.”

“All right. I have the coins, and a little to spare, though I don’t have them here with me right now.” I nodded in understanding

“That’s perfectly ok Caroline. If you wouldn’t mind could you please drop by my forge at nine-o-clock tomorrow morning so that we can get everything worked out.” I told her just before Jonah called out to me

“Oberon get your stripped white tail over here, we’re moving out.”

“I’ll do that. You’d better get going you don’t want to annoy Jonah any more than he already is.” I nodded my head and joined the rest of the squad. Each member of the squad had a few scratches and Jonah had his arm in a sling, though I don’t really think it was really all that serious

“A nice little fight eh Oberon.” I chuckled before I replied

“You can say that again Jonah.” He looked me up and down before he said

“I heard that you had more fun than the rest of us.”

“If you consider troll wrestling to be fun, then I guess that I did have more fun.” He shook his head slightly and sighed before he turned and focussed his attention on the trail ahead of his feet. I looked at the rest of the members of the squad and then settled myself to my own marching rhythm. I was looking forward to a good bath at the bath-house and a full night’s sleep in my own bed tonight.

{{series bar
|previous=[[The Trial]]
|next=[[A Swing at the Mule]]
}}

The Raid

2017-07-13T05:58:37Z

Lem: correct autospell errors

[[Category:Story]] [[Category:Animal]]
{{DEFAULTSORT: Raid, The}}
[[Category:Metamor Keep]]
[[Category:Oberon]]
{{editing requested}}{{universe|Metamor Keep}}

By: [[User:Oberon|Oberon]]

The trial of Sir Guy DeHarancourt had taken five days, but in the end that particular fanatic had been sentenced to stay in the keep under the supervision of Father Francis Hough, the local priest of the Ecclesia. The reason for the Duke’s appearant mercy was because of the form that Sir DeHarancourt had been given by the Curse of the Keep. He was now in the form of a age regressed wildcat morph, he had also lost his mind in the transformation, he was reduced to the mental state of a child, which I had learned was quite rare here at the keep. I was now free to focus my attention on my work as a member of the Metamor Keep Army Patrol Command. Although during the trial I had managed to repair my battle armour, ensuring that I would be adequately protected when my patrol encountered the enemy, and that was something that was inevitable considering what George had told me when he had assigned me to my current unit. Basically he had told me that he would test the limits of my abilities, so far he had learned of my weakness against magic, other than that I believe that he already knew just how dangerous I really was.

This morning I was able to sleep in because my unit was leaving in the afternoon for our next assignment. When I finally did wake up I had to get ready ready for work. As soon as I had stretched my muscles, tended to my hand and foot claws, and groomed my fur I began to pull on my work clothes.

An hour later I was standing with the rest of the unit while Jonah told us of the mission that we were taking part in.

“Tonight we will be taking part in a combined raid with a squadron of cavalry and a team of Long Scouts. Our target is a lutin encampment that lies only half a days ride from here. The reason we must attack together is because this encampment is larger than any one of our units alone can handle, but together our units will be able to destroy this threat against our people.” I was glad that I had decided that I would only take my light raiders pack. It contained only the barest of essentials, four days rations, a field medicine kit, and a few odds and ends. In my side pouch on my belt I carried two spare bowstrings for my monster of a longbow, and my tinderbox. When I was involved in raiding I preferred to pack light so that I could move fast. I was talking with Trent, the bison morph, about a battle that he had fought in more than ten years ago, when there was a clatter of horse hooves as the cavalry detachment that was to take part in the raid joined us. The leader of the squad was none other than the Knight Sir Edmund Delacote, though he was riding a lighter horse than was normal for a knight. Then again that was to be expected considering the fact that he now possessed the slender figure of a cheetah morph. He looked around at the people gathered in the courtyard before he asked Jonah something about our unit. Jonah laughed before he replied, even with my sensitive hearing I wasn’t able to pick up what he had said. After several more minutes Jonah finally turned and said “Ok everyone lets move out, we’ve got a lot of terrain to cover and only a few hours to cover it before darkness comes.” Almost as soon as I got under way Jonah asked me why I was moving so quickly

“Sir in the past when I’ve conducted raiding operations the imperative was to hit the enemy by moving as fast as possible.”

“Oberon we also must hit them while we are strong and fresh, therefore we must try and conserve our strength.” I nodded and scaled back my speed of movement a little, but I was still moving pretty quickly. Our unit moved quickly and quietly through the trees towards the enemy encampment for several hours, the cavalry was following behind us on previously established paths while we made our own paths into the wilderness. Of course we knew that we were preceded by at least two Long Scouts who were conducting reconnaissance of the enemy camp and determine what direction that we would attack from. We marched through most of the night to at a point fairly close to the camp. When we stopped I crouched down and pulled off my raiding pack and placed it under a tree, but not before I took out two of my large trail rations from the pack. Once I was happy that it was properly concealed I consumed the rations with a little water from a canteen before I hid that item as well. As I checked over my equipment a Long Scout that I recognized as Finbar, came over to Jonah and said softly, though not too softly for my sensitive ears to pick up

“We’ve managed to take out most of their sentries, especially on the side where the cavalry will be hitting them but you could be in for a tough fight, I thought I smelled a troll out here.”

“A troll, that wasn’t exactly in the plan.”

“Well then I guess that we will have to alter the plan.”

“I’ve never faced a troll before other than back at the Battle of Three Gates and during the Yuletide Attack, and that was when I was comfortably behind a good sized wall.”

“Well we’ll just have to make due under the circumstances.”

"It won't be easy to kill that."

"Well I have a couple big guys in my unit who might be able to do the job, one is especially dangerous."

"The troll will be the big problem. the rest we can kill easy enough. We can try and lure him into an ambush." Jonah pointed over to me and Kent before he replied

"In case ambushing the troll doesn't work those two are going to take care of it."

“Oberon can handle it." Finbar jokes. "He's as big as a troll!"

"And twice as quick." Interjects Jonah with a chuckle. At that commend Finbar laughed before he regained his composure and spread a map out onto the ground and began to point out a few salient features in the camp that was our objective. While they were taking care of those little details I checked my bow and pulled an arrow out of my quiver and nocked it without drawing the bow. I wanted to be ready in case we were expected by the lutins even though that was highly unlikely. We slowly made our way through the bushes for the next hour, being very careful in our movements, we didn’t want to tip this encampment off that we were about to attack until the moment came when we actually hit them.

A short time later I positioned myself in a small hedge of bushes and pulled my quiver off, and placed in on the ground in a position that would allow we to grab arrows as quickly as I could. The signal for the attack had been agreed upon earlier was a single blast on a horn, this was something that Sir Edmund Delacote would do. I took my nocked bow and raised it up into the air and pointed it at the camp and waited for the signal. I didn’t have long to wait, the sun was just cresting the ridge behind us when the horn called out its cry of death. I acted automatically pulling the bow back to its maximum and releasing the arrow into the morning sky. My hand flashed down to the quiver almost as soon as it released the string to grab the next arrow. I kept this rate of fire up until I reached my hand down to find that there were no more arrows in the quiver. I had fired off twenty-five arrows in roughly three and a half minutes and now I had to drop my bow and head down to the encampment where some members of the raiding party were already engaged in combat with the lutins. As I ran down into the encampment I drew both the Claw of the Dragon and my broadsword, getting them ready for action. As soon as I cleared the trees ont he perimeter I found myself almost surrounded by lutins. I grinned at the test to my skills that this provided and began to move through the enemy force in a whirlwind of steel and white fur. After a several moments I sheathed my broadsword grabbed a lutin behind me with my left hand, claws fully extended and wrenched his neck around until it snapped with a dry sounding crack. Now that I had only one sword I began to dance around my own pattern of ‘Sung Dranatk ek Grect’, or in common tongue; The Dance of Death. Each Kelmar Bladelord had his own version of this dance and each one was very lethal to those who were coming up against it. I moved through the horde of lutins in a flowing pattern that left nothing but corpses behind me and blood on my left arm whenever I used it as a weapon in my fight. I was just rising from a crouch after dispatching four lutins with a sweep of my blade when I heard a loud roar sound out, this wasn’t a roar from a member of the raiding party but a roar from the enemy. The sound was full of malice and mindless hatred that even I could detect. I laid my ears back and replied with my own roar. There was a loud thumping sound of footsteps before I finally was able to see what had roared. It was an ugly man shaped beast that was roughly eight and a half feet tall. As it got closer it swung its club at a nearby lutin, sending the unfortunate creature flying up into the air. He then swung his club at one of the members of the other squad that was involved in the raid smashing the poor fellow flatter than a skillet cake. As he swung his club for the third time, this time at me, I dodged out of the way and struck out at him with my own blade. He was bigger than I was but he was also surprisingly quick, he dodged my own strike and swung with his monstrous club again. I just managed to duck underneath the blow at the same time I stabbed upwards with my sword catching the giant man on his thigh, but the sword didn’t penetrate all that far. This was unreal, the Claw of the Dragon had never failed to penetrate anything and yet here it had only managed to create a superficial wound. I rolled out from my dangerous position and came to my feet just out of range of the monster. This was going to take me a little more effort than I had originally planned. The monster didn’t give me all that much time to consider what I should do next as he charged me swinging that huge club over his head. I managed to dodge his next few blows, each time he attacked I would avoid his attacks and counterattack with a slash of my sword. We tramped our way through the encampment fighting our own private fight, while at the same time the forces from the Keep were making quick work of the lutins in the camp. Every so often I had to either ward off a lutin with my free hand or kill it. I found out there that my left hand, with its claw tipped fingers, was very effective in ripping the throats out of a lutin’s neck. Finally after dodging a particularly viscous blow from the monster’s club that hit the ground with a dull thud I swung my sword with both hands at his wrists as he tried to pick the club up again. I was well pleased when the when the blade sheered through both wrists leaving the monster with nothing but stumps on the end of his arms. He roared and then dashed at me bearing me to the ground with his weight. I was concerned now because in this position this monster could do with me what it wanted to. However, I still had a few tricks up my sleeve, I opened my mouth and clamped my jaws on his throat. All I can say about that is yuck, this guy tasted worse than nine day old moldy porridge. At the same time I kicked his belly with my feet, claws fully extended so that I scored eight long gashes in his belly. They weren’t serious injuries but they were painful, the most dangerous of my actions was definitely my flicking my wrists to unsheathe the stilettos that I had strapped to my bracers. Once those knives were unsheathed I stabbed into the monster with a stiletto in each hand, trying to hit something vital. The monster yowled in pain, even though his throat was now restricted because of my teeth on his neck. Finally it attempted to stand up and I let go and retreated, the monster was bleeding from several different places and it was clearly on its last legs. I managed to sheath my two slender stilettos and picked my sword up off of the ground, where it was covered in gore. Then I dashed in under the monster’s arms and swung the sword once, there was a heavy jerk on my arms followed by an equally heavy thump to the right of us. I stepped back as the now headless body staggered once and then hit the ground with its knees before falling onto it chest with a pathetic wheeze. I shook my head panting to clear my vision before I looked around for more lutins, but it appeared that the encampment was empty of the enemy. I leaned on my sword for a moment before I slowly made my way to the nearby creek where the camp had been getting its fresh water and began trying to get the sticky blood out of my fur, I was covered in gore form the top of my head to my feet. Just as I put my hands into the water when someone came up beside me and said

“Good Lord Oberon, you’re covered in blood are you all right?” I looked at the person and was able to recognize that it was Caroline, Misha’s companion, and one of the four Long Scouts who had been involved in the raid. I grinned slightly

“It;s all mostly from those lutins and that huge monster that I had to fight with. I have a few scratches but nothing really serious.” I commented before I dipped my head into the water and tried to get the blood out of my head-fur.

“You fought a troll?” She asked in surprise. “And won!” I lifted my head up to look her in the eyes before I replied

“It was a hard fight, that thing was faster than I expected with that club. The gods only know how dangerous it wouldn’ve been if it had possessed a sword. It was even tougher when I had disarmed it, since it decided to tackle me and try and fight me at very close quarters. In the end though I managed to remove its head, once that happened the fight was over.” She shook her head while I ran some water through my face-fur and finally managed to say

“That was a troll Oberon. They’ve been known to kill ogres easily and you killed one single-handed. Amazing!”

“Well my sword,” I indicated the weapon with its glowing ruby pommel-stone at my side “, gave me a little assistance when it mattered.”

“Your sword may have helped but I think that you were the one that did most of the fighting.” I chuckled and ran my claws through my throat ruff before I conceded that I would probably need a good bath at the keep to get the stains out of my fur.

“Well when you’re fighting for you life you can exceed even what you know that you can do. Besides that there is the fact that I’ve either been training to fight or fighting for sixty-five years.” Caroline shook her head

“Still it’s incredible that you managed to kill a troll single-handed!” I was cleaning as much blood as I could from my left arm while she spoke before I finally had to concede that even that blood was something that I needed a serious bath to take care of. Since I wasn’t getting anywhere with my impromtu washing here I stood up to my full height before I responded

“That monster was the first really serious challenge to my abilities that I’ve had out here while in the service to the keep, other than that dumb lutin mage a week and a half ago.”

“If a troll is a challenge I don’t want to what would be able to beat you in a fight. A dragon?” I laughed before I interjected

“I have yet to experience their type in battle, though they may be similar to the Night Gryphons from my homeland. Now those are a serious threat to a warrior, no matter how good that warrior is. If you are able to beat one in single combat you are really something special.”

“Up here we thankfully have dragons on our side. Several members of the Keep’s population are dragons, but there are a few dragons that serve our enemies up north.” I nodded my head before rubbing a spot just behind my left ear before I finally said.

“Right now I really wouldn’t appreciate getting into another fight. All I really need is to simply return home to the Keep so that I can get some rest.” She nodded in understanding

“We should be home by nightfall, but don’t let your guard down, we can still be ambushed on the way back to the keep.”

“Oh joy, joy, well at least I can go back to our staging point to pick up my raiding pack with my rations. With some food in my stomach I should be ok for a little while longer.”

“Trail rations may not be tasty but at least they are filling. Though I suspect that a big guy like yourself probably needs at least a dozen of them to begin feeling full.” I smiled at her comment

“I’ve had the cooks at the keep make up triple sized rations for me. That’s better than carrying around a hundred of the bloody things. However, if we are lucky I should be able to track down something that is considerably fresher.” She laughed

“I eat one and I’m full but you need at least a dozen of the standard sized rations to even begin to feel it.”

“I guess that’s the price that a I’ve got to pay for getting a form that is so ideally suited for my profession.”

“Just be glad I don’t share my fish flavoured ones. Misha HATES those with a passion.”

“Fish isn’t all THAT bad is it?”

“Try telling Misha that. He can’t even stand the smell of them. He makes me eat them down wind of him!” I tilted my head back and gave a gruff shout of laughter before I managed to say

“You mean he will actually turn down food?”

“There are certain things even HE won’t eat.”

“Well I know that I can’t touch vegetables, they give me the worst stomachaches and worse. On the other hand if it is a type of meat I can pretty well eat it without too much trouble.”

“Well Misha can eat fish. He just can’t stand the taste of it. All he’ll say on the matter is that he grew up in landlocked country where you simply couldn’t get fish.”

“He wouldn’t have like my home town, I remember that there was a fish market in the central square. Our town was located on the shore of the largest lake in the entire Clanlands.”

“Here at the keep the only fish that we have access to are small river fish or what can be imported from the south!”

“I think I understand.” I commented before I began to walk towards the place where I had concealed my longbow and my quiver. When I reached the bush where I had shot my arrows from I pulled it all from its concealment and placed it on my body, though I still had to go back and retrieve my pack. As I was about to unstring my bow I heard Caroline comment in an interested voice

“That bow is beautiful, can I hold it?”

“Sure thing, though Misha said it was a little on the large side for his taste.” I told her before I handed it to her. She took the bow into her hands and and then exclaimed,

“This thing is huge, its taller than I am! How heavy of a does it have?” as she examined it with a professional eye.

“That bow there has a pull of two hundred and fifty pounds, though the runes on the metal parts make it so that the arrows leave the string as if it had the equivalent force of a bow with a pull resistance of five hundred pounds.”

“FIVE HUNDRED POUNDS?” she exclaimed. “You could put an arrow through several people with that much power.” I shrugged my shoulders before I slowly replied

“I think that I saw several arrows that had gone through more than one lutin back there in the encampment, or at least I think I saw some like that.” She laughed

“Impressive! I’ve never seen a bow this powerful before.”

“Didn’t Misha tell you about this monster of a bow?” She nodded

“He mentioned it but he didn’t tell me that it was this powerful.”

“Well I can’t demonstrate it right now, I used up all of my arrows in the assault on that encampment and I’ll have to make some more when I get back to the keep.”

“Plenty of time back at the keep to shoot arrows.” She commented “After we get a meal and a good night’s sleep.”

“Well before I shoot any arrows I’ll have to make some more because your standard arrows don’t work in that bow.”

“Standard arrows don’t work? She asked in surprise “Why?”

“They aren’t long enough for my bow.” I took the bow back from her and then pulled the string back to my ear. She looked at the distance between the string and the arch of the bow before she finally managed to say

“I’ve never seen arrows that have to by THAT long! They’re more like a javelin than a arrow.”

“So you see why I need to make more. I wasn’t able to recover any of my spent arrows either. Most of them are broken or too deeply embedded in their victims to be pulled out.” I replied before I unstrung the bow and placed it in its soft leather case. While we were walking she said

“You’d best make a lot of arrows Oberon. From what I’ve experienced as a scout and a Long Scout we usually prefer to use bows to pick off our enemies at a distance. Its less of a risk for us that way.” I nodded my head as I headed up to the original launch point of the raid and located my raiding pack and picked it up. I pulled out two trail rations and offered on to Caroline as a simple courtesy. She took the proffered food into her hand and then said

“Thank you Oberon. This thing is huge, I could eat this thing for a week.”

“Your welcome.” I said before I polished off my own ration in four bites. I took a swig of water from my canteen before I mentioned “I guess that we had better be getting back down there, my commander, Lieutenant Jonah will be wondering where I am.” Caroline nibbled at a corner of the ration in her hand. Hmm, beef. Not as good as fish but still good.”

“Sorry I don’t usually request fish in my diet.” Then a brainwave came to me because I remembered something that George had told me about locating something that I needed for making his sword. “By the way Caroline I was wondering if you could ask Misha where he gets his coal from? George tells me that he can get his hands on some anthracite coal and I need some for my own uses.”

“Anthracite coal? The hard coal he used to fix Madog? He has a merchant that brings it in from the Midlands. I can find his name out for you if you would like it.”

“Thank you. I would much appreciate it, I don’t like working with second rate materials when I am making weapons, I absolutely despise cheap materials.” Caroline laughed softly

“Misha prefers it too, even for heating his apartment. He says that it burns longer and hotter than normal coal.” I laughed along with her as we rejoined the rest of the contingent in the center of the clearing where the lutin encampment had been. I looked at her for a moment before I drew my broadsword and held it out to Caroline hilt first.

“Here is an example of what I can do when it comes to creating weapons.” She took the weapon carefully and glanced along the blade.

“This is beautiful. I’ve never seen a sword quite like this. Are you sure that you made this weapon? I’ve never seen a sword this finely made before.” I laughed at her question before I responded

“Would you like me to make a sword like this for you Caroline?” She looked up at me before she managed to reply.

“I would like a new sword, but nothing so big! Can you make something a little more my size? A nice short sword perhaps?”

“I certainly can make one for you fine lady. You will get a fine short-sword and scabbard with a by knife, a sword-belt, and a dagger with a scabbard, they come as a set, like all of my weapons.” She handed my broadsword back to me and said

“All right. Whatever the cost is to make them I am willing to pay for a weapon as fine as that sword of yours.”

“Ok I’ll try and make your order as soon as I’m finished George’s set. Your set will not be cheap though. I estimate the cost for it to be in the area of sixty garrets and furthermore I will need you to drop by my forge as soon as you can tomorrow so that I can take my measurements to make sure that your new weapons are perfectly suited to you.”

“All right. I have the coins, and a little to spare, though I don’t have them here with me right now.” I nodded in understanding

“That’s perfectly ok Caroline. If you wouldn’t mind could you please drop by my forge at nine-o-clock tomorrow morning so that we can get everything worked out.” I told her just before Jonah called out to me

“Oberon get your stripped white tail over here, we’re moving out.”

“I’ll do that. You’d better get going you don’t want to annoy Jonah any more than he already is.” I nodded my head and joined the rest of the squad. Each member of the squad had a few scratches and Jonah had his arm in a sling, though I don’t really think it was really all that serious

“A nice little fight eh Oberon.” I chuckled before I replied

“You can say that again Jonah.” He looked me up and down before he said

“I heard that you had more fun than the rest of us.”

“If you consider troll wrestling to be fun, then I guess that I did have more fun.” He shook his head slightly and sighed before he turned and focussed his attention on the trail ahead of his feet. I looked at the rest of the members of the squad and then settled myself to my own marching rhythm. I was looking forward to a good bath at the bath-house and a full night’s sleep in my own bed tonight.

{{series bar
|previous=[[The Trial]]
|next=[[A Swing at the Mule]]
}}

The Raid

2017-07-13T05:55:42Z

Lem: correct autospell errors

[[Category:Story]] [[Category:Animal]]
{{DEFAULTSORT: Raid, The}}
[[Category:Metamor Keep]]
[[Category:Oberon]]
{{editing requested}}{{universe|Metamor Keep}}

By: [[User:Oberon|Oberon]]

The trial of Sir Guy DeHarancourt had taken five days, but in the end that particular fanatic had been sentenced to stay in the keep under the supervision of Father Francis Hough, the local priest of the Ecclesia. The reason for the Duke’s appearant mercy was because of the form that Sir DeHarancourt had been given by the Curse of the Keep. He was now in the form of a age regressed wildcat morph, he had also lost his mind in the transformation, he was reduced to the mental state of a child, which I had learned was quite rare here at the keep. I was now free to focus my attention on my work as a member of the Metamor Keep Army Patrol Command. Although during the trial I had managed to repair my battle armour, ensuring that I would be adequately protected when my patrol encountered the enemy, and that was something that was inevitable considering what George had told me when he had assigned me to my current unit. Basically he had told me that he would test the limits of my abilities, so far he had learned of my weakness against magic, other than that I believe that he already knew just how dangerous I really was.

This morning I was able to sleep in because my unit was leaving in the afternoon for our next assignment. When I finally did wake up I had to get ready ready for work. As soon as I had stretched my muscles, tended to my hand and foot claws, and groomed my fur I began to pull on my work clothes.

An hour later I was standing with the rest of the unit while Jonah told us of the mission that we were taking part in.

“Tonight we will be taking part in a combined raid with a squadron of cavalry and a team of Long Scouts. Our target is a lutin encampment that lies only half a days ride from here. The reason we must attack together is because this encampment is larger than any one of our units alone can handle, but together our units will be able to destroy this threat against our people.” I was glad that I had decided that I would only take my light raiders pack. It contained only the barest of essentials, four days rations, a field medicine kit, and a few odds and ends. In my side pouch on my belt I carried two spare bowstrings for my monster of a longbow, and my tinderbox. When I was involved in raiding I preferred to pack light so that I could move fast. I was talking with Trent, the bison morph, about a battle that he had fought in more than ten years ago, when there was a clatter of horse hooves as the cavalry detachment that was to take part in the raid joined us. The leader of the squad was none other than the Knight Sir Edmund Delacote, though he was riding a lighter horse than was normal for a knight. Then again that was to be expected considering the fact that he now possessed the slender figure of a cheetah morph. He looked around at the people gathered in the courtyard before he asked Jonah something about our unit. Jonah laughed before he replied, even with my sensitive hearing I wasn’t able to pick up what he had said. After several more minutes Jonah finally turned and said “Ok everyone lets move out, we’ve got a lot of terrain to cover and only a few hours to cover it before darkness comes.” Almost as soon as I got under way Jonah asked me why I was moving so quickly

“Sir in the past when I’ve conducted raiding operations the imperative was to hit the enemy by moving as fast as possible.”

“Oberon we also must hit them while we are strong and fresh, therefore we must try and conserve our strength.” I nodded and scaled back my speed of movement a little, but I was still moving pretty quickly. Our unit moved quickly and quietly through the trees towards the enemy encampment for several hours, the cavalry was following behind us on previously established paths while we made our own paths into the wilderness. Of course we knew that we were preceded by at least two Long Scouts who were conducting reconnaissance of the enemy camp and determine what direction that we would attack from. We marched through most of the night to at a point fairly close to the camp. When we stopped I crouched down and pulled off my raiding pack and placed it under a tree, but not before I took out two of my large trail rations from the pack. Once I was happy that it was properly concealed I consumed the rations with a little water from a canteen before I hid that item as well. As I checked over my equipment a Long Scout that I recognized as Finbar, came over to Jonah and said softly, though not too softly for my sensitive ears to pick up

“We’ve managed to take out most of their sentries, especially on the side where the cavalry will be hitting them but you could be in for a tough fight, I thought I smelled a troll out here.”

“A troll, that wasn’t exactly in the plan.”

“Well then I guess that we will have to alter the plan.”

“I’ve never faced a troll before other than back at the Battle of Three Gates and during the Yuletide Attack, and that was when I was comfortably behind a good sized wall.”

“Well we’ll just have to make due under the circumstances.”

"It won't be easy to kill that."

"Well I have a couple big guys in my unit who might be able to do the job, one is especially dangerous."

"The troll will be the big problem. the rest we can kill easy enough. We can try and lure him into an ambush." Jonah pointed over to me and Kent before he replied

"In case ambushing the troll doesn't work those two are going to take care of it."

“Oberon can handle it." Finbar jokes. "He's as big as a troll!"

"And twice as quick." Interjects Jonah with a chuckle. At that commend Finbar laughed before he regained his composure and spread a map out onto the ground and began to point out a few salient features in the camp that was our objective. While they were taking care of those little details I checked my bow and pulled an arrow out of my quiver and nocked it without drawing the bow. I wanted to be ready in case we were expected by the lutins even though that was highly unlikely. We slowly made our way through the bushes for the next hour, being very careful in our movements, we didn’t want to tip this encampment off that we were about to attack until the moment came when we actually hit them.

A short time later I positioned myself in a small hedge of bushes and pulled my quiver off an placed in on the ground in a position that would allow we to grab arrows as quickly as I could. The signal for the attack had been agreed upon earlier was a single blast on a horn, this was something that Sir Edmund Delacote would do. I took my nocked bow and raised it up into the air and pointed it at the camp and waited for the signal. I didn’t have long to wait, the sun was just cresting the ridge behind us when the horn called out its cry of death. I acted automatically pulling the bow back to its maximum and releasing the arrow into the morning sky. My hand flashed down to the quiver almost as soon as it released the string to grab the next arrow. I kept this rate of fire up until I reached my hand down to find that there were no more arrows in the quiver. I had fired off twenty-five arrows in roughly three and a half minutes and now I had to drop my bow and head down to the encampment where some members of the raiding party were already engaged in combat with the lutins. As I ran down into the encampment I drew both the Claw of the Dragon and my broadsword, getting them ready for action. As soon as I cleared the trees ont he perimeter I found myself almost surrounded by lutins. I grinned at the test to my skills that this provided and began to move through the enemy force in a whirlwind of steel and white fur. After a several moments I sheathed my broadsword grabbed a lutin behind me with my left hand, claws fully extended and wrenched his neck around until it snapped with a dry sounding crack. Now that I had only one sword I began to dance around my own pattern of ‘Sung Dranatk ek Grect’, or in common tongue; The Dance of Death. Each Kelmar Bladelord had his own version of this dance and each one was very lethal to those who were coming up against it. I moved through the horde of lutins in a flowing pattern that left nothing but corpses behind me and blood on my left arm whenever I used it as a weapon in my fight. I was just rising from a crouch after dispatching four lutins with a sweep of my blade when I heard a loud roar sound out, this wasn’t a roar from a member of the raiding party but a roar from the enemy. The sound was full of malice and mindless hatred that even I could detect. I laid my ears back and replied with my own roar. There was a loud thumping sound of footsteps before I finally was able to see what had roared. It was an ugly man shaped beast that was roughly eight and a half feet tall. As it got closer it swung its club at a nearby lutin, sending the unfortunate creature flying up into the air. He then swung his club at one of the members of the other squad that was involved in the raid smashing the poor fellow flatter than a skillet cake. As he swung his club for the third time, this time at me, I dodged out of the way and struck out at him with my own blade. He was bigger than I was but he was also surprisingly quick, he dodged my own strike and swung with his monstrous club again. I just managed to duck underneath the blow at the same time I stabbed upwards with my sword catching the giant man on his thigh, but the sword didn’t penetrate all that far. This was unreal, the Claw of the Dragon had never failed to penetrate anything and yet here it had only managed to create a superficial wound. I rolled out from my dangerous position and came to my feet just out of range of the monster. This was going to take me a little more effort than I had originally planned. The monster didn’t give me all that much time to consider what I should do next as he charged me swinging that huge club over his head. I managed to dodge his next few blows, each time he attacked I would avoid his attacks and counterattack with a slash of my sword. We tramped our way through the encampment fighting our own private fight, while at the same time the forces from the Keep were making quick work of the lutins in the camp. Every so often I had to either ward off a lutin with my free hand or kill it. I found out there that my left hand, with its claw tipped fingers, was very effective in ripping the throats out of a lutin’s neck. Finally after dodging a particularly viscous blow from the monster’s club that hit the ground with a dull thud I swung my sword with both hands at his wrists as he tried to pick the club up again. I was well pleased when the when the blade sheered through both wrists leaving the monster with nothing but stumps on the end of his arms. He roared and then dashed at me bearing me to the ground with his weight. I was concerned now because in this position this monster could do with me what it wanted to. However, I still had a few tricks up my sleeve, I opened my mouth and clamped my jaws on his throat. All I can say about that is yuck, this guy tasted worse than nine day old moldy porridge. At the same time I kicked his belly with my feet, claws fully extended so that I scored eight long gashes in his belly. They weren’t serious injuries but they were painful, the most dangerous of my actions was definitely my flicking my wrists to unsheathe the stilettos that I had strapped to my bracers. Once those knives were unsheathed I stabbed into the monster with a stiletto in each hand, trying to hit something vital. The monster yowled in pain, even though his throat was now restricted because of my teeth on his neck. Finally it attempted to stand up and I let go and retreated, the monster was bleeding from several different places and it was clearly on its last legs. I managed to sheath my two slender stilettos and picked my sword up off of the ground, where it was covered in gore. Then I dashed in under the monster’s arms and swung the sword once, there was a heavy jerk on my arms followed by an equally heavy thump to the right of us. I stepped back as the now headless body staggered once and then hit the ground with its knees before falling onto it chest with a pathetic wheeze. I shook my head panting to clear my vision before I looked around for more lutins, but it appeared that the encampment was empty of the enemy. I leaned on my sword for a moment before I slowly made my way to the nearby creek where the camp had been getting its fresh water and began trying to get the sticky blood out of my fur, I was covered in gore form the top of my head to my feet. Just as I put my hands into the water when someone came up beside me and said

“Good Lord Oberon, you’re covered in blood are you all right?” I looked at the person and was able to recognize that it was Caroline, Misha’s companion, and one of the four Long Scouts who had been involved in the raid. I grinned slightly

“It;s all mostly from those lutins and that huge monster that I had to fight with. I have a few scratches but nothing really serious.” I commented before I dipped my head into the water and tried to get the blood out of my head-fur.

“You fought a troll?” She asked in surprise. “And won!” I lifted my head up to look her in the eyes before I replied

“It was a hard fight, that thing was faster than I expected with that club. The gods only know how dangerous it wouldn’ve been if it had possessed a sword. It was even tougher when I had disarmed it, since it decided to tackle me and try and fight me at very close quarters. In the end though I managed to remove its head, once that happened the fight was over.” She shook her head while I ran some water through my face-fur and finally managed to say

“That was a troll Oberon. They’ve been known to kill ogres easily and you killed one single-handed. Amazing!”

“Well my sword,” I indicated the weapon with its glowing ruby pommel-stone at my side “, gave me a little assistance when it mattered.”

“Your sword may have helped but I think that you were the one that did most of the fighting.” I chuckled and ran my claws through my throat ruff before I conceded that I would probably need a good bath at the keep to get the stains out of my fur.

“Well when you’re fighting for you life you can exceed even what you know that you can do. Besides that there is the fact that I’ve either been training to fight or fighting for sixty-five years.” Caroline shook her head

“Still it’s incredible that you managed to kill a troll single-handed!” I was cleaning as much blood as I could from my left arm while she spoke before I finally had to concede that even that blood was something that I needed a serious bath to take care of. Since I wasn’t getting anywhere with my impromtu washing here I stood up to my full height before I responded

“That monster was the first really serious challenge to my abilities that I’ve had out here while in the service to the keep, other than that dumb lutin mage a week and a half ago.”

“If a troll is a challenge I don’t want to what would be able to beat you in a fight. A dragon?” I laughed before I interjected

“I have yet to experience their type in battle, though they may be similar to the Night Gryphons from my homeland. Now those are a serious threat to a warrior, no matter how good that warrior is. If you are able to beat one in single combat you are really something special.”

“Up here we thankfully have dragons on our side. Several members of the Keep’s population are dragons, but there are a few dragons that serve our enemies up north.” I nodded my head before rubbing a spot just behind my left ear before I finally said.

“Right now I really wouldn’t appreciate getting into another fight. All I really need is to simply return home to the Keep so that I can get some rest.” She nodded in understanding

“We should be home by nightfall, but don’t let your guard down, we can still be ambushed on the way back to the keep.”

“Oh joy, joy, well at least I can go back to our staging point to pick up my raiding pack with my rations. With some food in my stomach I should be ok for a little while longer.”

“Trail rations may not be tasty but at least they are filling. Though I suspect that a big guy like yourself probably needs at least a dozen of them to begin feeling full.” I smiled at her comment

“I’ve had the cooks at the keep make up triple sized rations for me. That’s better than carrying around a hundred of the bloody things. However, if we are lucky I should be able to track down something that is considerably fresher.” She laughed

“I eat one and I’m full but you need at least a dozen of the standard sized rations to even begin to feel it.”

“I guess that’s the price that a I’ve got to pay for getting a form that is so ideally suited for my profession.”

“Just be glad I don’t share my fish flavoured ones. Misha HATES those with a passion.”

“Fish isn’t all THAT bad is it?”

“Try telling Misha that. He can’t even stand the smell of them. He makes me eat them down wind of him!” I tilted my head back and gave a gruff shout of laughter before I managed to say

“You mean he will actually turn down food?”

“There are certain things even HE won’t eat.”

“Well I know that I can’t touch vegetables, they give me the worst stomachaches and worse. On the other hand if it is a type of meat I can pretty well eat it without too much trouble.”

“Well Misha can eat fish. He just can’t stand the taste of it. All he’ll say on the matter is that he grew up in landlocked country where you simply couldn’t get fish.”

“He wouldn’t have like my home town, I remember that there was a fish market in the central square. Our town was located on the shore of the largest lake in the entire Clanlands.”

“Here at the keep the only fish that we have access to are small river fish or what can be imported from the south!”

“I think I understand.” I commented before I began to walk towards the place where I had concealed my longbow and my quiver. When I reached the bush where I had shot my arrows from I pulled it all from its concealment and placed it on my body, though I still had to go back and retrieve my pack. As I was about to unstring my bow I heard Caroline comment in an interested voice

“That bow is beautiful, can I hold it?”

“Sure thing, though Misha said it was a little on the large side for his taste.” I told her before I handed it to her. She took the bow into her hands and and then exclaimed,

“This thing is huge, its taller than I am! How heavy of a does it have?” as she examined it with a professional eye.

“That bow there has a pull of two hundred and fifty pounds, though the runes on the metal parts make it so that the arrows leave the string as if it had the equivalent force of a bow with a pull resistance of five hundred pounds.”

“FIVE HUNDRED POUNDS?” she exclaimed. “You could put an arrow through several people with that much power.” I shrugged my shoulders before I slowly replied

“I think that I saw several arrows that had gone through more than one lutin back there in the encampment, or at least I think I saw some like that.” She laughed

“Impressive! I’ve never seen a bow this powerful before.”

“Didn’t Misha tell you about this monster of a bow?” She nodded

“He mentioned it but he didn’t tell me that it was this powerful.”

“Well I can’t demonstrate it right now, I used up all of my arrows in the assault on that encampment and I’ll have to make some more when I get back to the keep.”

“Plenty of time back at the keep to shoot arrows.” She commented “After we get a meal and a good night’s sleep.”

“Well before I shoot any arrows I’ll have to make some more because your standard arrows don’t work in that bow.”

“Standard arrows don’t work? She asked in surprise “Why?”

“They aren’t long enough for my bow.” I took the bow back from her and then pulled the string back to my ear. She looked at the distance between the string and the arch of the bow before she finally managed to say

“I’ve never seen arrows that have to by THAT long! They’re more like a javelin than a arrow.”

“So you see why I need to make more. I wasn’t able to recover any of my spent arrows either. Most of them are broken or too deeply embedded in their victims to be pulled out.” I replied before I unstrung the bow and placed it in its soft leather case. While we were walking she said

“You’d best make a lot of arrows Oberon. From what I’ve experienced as a scout and a Long Scout we usually prefer to use bows to pick off our enemies at a distance. Its less of a risk for us that way.” I nodded my head as I headed up to the original launch point of the raid and located my raiding pack and picked it up. I pulled out two trail rations and offered on to Caroline as a simple courtesy. She took the proffered food into her hand and then said

“Thank you Oberon. This thing is huge, I could eat this thing for a week.”

“Your welcome.” I said before I polished off my own ration in four bites. I took a swig of water from my canteen before I mentioned “I guess that we had better be getting back down there, my commander, Lieutenant Jonah will be wondering where I am.” Caroline nibbled at a corner of the ration in her hand. Hmm, beef. Not as good as fish but still good.”

“Sorry I don’t usually request fish in my diet.” Then a brainwave came to me because I remembered something that George had told me about locating something that I needed for making his sword. “By the way Caroline I was wondering if you could ask Misha where he gets his coal from? George tells me that he can get his hands on some anthracite coal and I need some for my own uses.”

“Anthracite coal? The hard coal he used to fix Madog? He has a merchant that brings it in from the Midlands. I can find his name out for you if you would like it.”

“Thank you. I would much appreciate it, I don’t like working with second rate materials when I am making weapons, I absolutely despise cheap materials.” Caroline laughed softly

“Misha prefers it too, even for heating his apartment. He says that it burns longer and hotter than normal coal.” I laughed along with her as we rejoined the rest of the contingent in the center of the clearing where the lutin encampment had been. I looked at her for a moment before I drew my broadsword and held it out to Caroline hilt first.

“Here is an example of what I can do when it comes to creating weapons.” She took the weapon carefully and glanced along the blade.

“This is beautiful. I’ve never seen a sword quite like this. Are you sure that you made this weapon? I’ve never seen a sword this finely made before.” I laughed at her question before I responded

“Would you like me to make a sword like this for you Caroline?” She looked up at me before she managed to reply.

“I would like a new sword, but nothing so big! Can you make something a little more my size? A nice short sword perhaps?”

“I certainly can make one for you fine lady. You will get a fine short-sword and scabbard with a by knife, a sword-belt, and a dagger with a scabbard, they come as a set, like all of my weapons.” She handed my broadsword back to me and said

“All right. Whatever the cost is to make them I am willing to pay for a weapon as fine as that sword of yours.”

“Ok I’ll try and make your order as soon as I’m finished George’s set. Your set will not be cheap though. I estimate the cost for it to be in the area of sixty garrets and furthermore I will need you to drop by my forge as soon as you can tomorrow so that I can take my measurements to make sure that your new weapons are perfectly suited to you.”

“All right. I have the coins, and a little to spare, though I don’t have them here with me right now.” I nodded in understanding

“That’s perfectly ok Caroline. If you wouldn’t mind could you please drop by my forge at nine-o-clock tomorrow morning so that we can get everything worked out.” I told her just before Jonah called out to me

“Oberon get your stripped white tail over here, we’re moving out.”

“I’ll do that. You’d better get going you don’t want to annoy Jonah any more than he already is.” I nodded my head and joined the rest of the squad. Each member of the squad had a few scratches and Jonah had his arm in a sling, though I don’t really think it was really all that serious

“A nice little fight eh Oberon.” I chuckled before I replied

“You can say that again Jonah.” He looked me up and down before he said

“I heard that you had more fun than the rest of us.”

“If you consider troll wrestling to be fun, then I guess that I did have more fun.” He shook his head slightly and sighed before he turned and focussed his attention on the trail ahead of his feet. I looked at the rest of the members of the squad and then settled myself to my own marching rhythm. I was looking forward to a good bath at the bath-house and a full night’s sleep in my own bed tonight.

{{series bar
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The Trial

2017-07-12T13:12:16Z

Lem: correct autospell errors

[[Category:Story]] [[Category:Animal]]
{{DEFAULTSORT: Trial, The}}
[[Category:Metamor Keep]]
[[Category:Oberon]]
{{editing requested}}{{universe|Metamor Keep}}

By: [[User:Oberon|Oberon]]

It had been just over a week since I had come back to the keep with a hole in my chest, but now finally Brian Coe, the healer had cleared me for action once more, however I first had to take care of that dumb trial that I was required to attend. I wondered why things couldn’t be more like my homeland where justice was swift and brutal, there was a strong level of deterrent in the system of justice in the Clanlands. The result of which was a relatively low crime rate. Things here though were different, with some trial in front of the local lord, in this case Duke Thomas Hassan V of the Metamor Valley and hereditary King of the Northern Midlands, though that title no longer really meant all that much since those territories had long since passed beyond the control of the Dukes of Metamor Keep.

This morning I slowly and carefully got dressed and groomed, I wanted to be sure that I looked my best if I was going to be standing in front of the whole court of the Duke. I had been trained by my father how to act when in formal situations, mind you in those situations I had been the one sitting beside him in the high chair, and now I was nought but a witness in a trial. I carefully went through my clothes, taking out a velvet black and red kilt, a gold trimmed leather vest, my second most elaborate sword-belt which featured gold threading, and a black velvet cloak with a red lining. When I finished dressing I carefully attached several weapons to my belt. The Claw of the Dragon, one of my short-swords, a dagger, and three of my throwing knives, though they were concealed behind my back. Almost as soon as I finished getting dressed, and properly groomed for the day ahead of me there was a knock on the door. When I opened it I found myself looking down at George, the patrol master.

“What are you doing here George?” I asked him. He looked up at me and waggled one ear before he replied

“I was coming to get you and make sure that you’re ready for the trial today. It’s only a few hours away.”

"I as ready for it as I will ever be. The whole reason for this sort thing sort of escapes me. Back home if we had two witnesses who were warriors then the person would be assumed to be guilty and executed on the spot."

"Well justice here is a bit more open and fair. Everyone gets a chance to defend their actions. The Duke himself will decide what fate for that fanatic."

"What about these," I indicated my belt, which had my most discrete collection of weapons hung on it ", last time I was any where near the Duke, other than during the festival I was tossed out of the room my that oversized crocodile that he uses as his steward and a pair of guards. I will not enter that room unarmed. To do so would be a supreme dishonour that even I cannot face."

"You cannot carry an entire armoury, but I will speak to the Thomas and get you special permission. With that fanatic I'll feel better with you being armed." I brought my fist up over my heart and bowed my head to George in respect before I thanked him

"Thank You George I will make sure that there is no reason for your trust to be questioned." He stepped into my apartment and looked around taking notice of the desk with the clock that I had bought from Misha, and the papers that were laying on the desk. He picked one up and then placed it back down again before he noticed the open door to my forge room.

"A forge! What type of smith are you?" I laughed slowly at his question before I replied

"I'm a Kelmar Bladelord of the Bronze, that means that I am both a Blademaster of the Gold and a Swordmaster of the Black. As such I am a 1st level master weapon-smith, and a 3rd level master warrior."

"A weaponsmith. Good. We need weapons here at the keep. Can you make us some?"

"The weapons that I make take quite a while to create George and they also take a lot of personal sacrifice. I went over and picked up a long-sword in its scabbard and handed it to him. He looked at the weapon and then drew the blade form the scabbard noticing the Kelmar watermarks on the blade.

“I’ve noticed that all of your weapons have these marks on them, is that something that is unique to your weapons?” I nodded before I replied

“It is something that I’ve only seen in one other culture’s weapons and they’ve only managed to figure out how to get one edge to have these tempering marks on their blades, not both edges.” He nodded slowly

"Special weapons" George said. "Nothing for the common soldiers? how long does it take to such a weapon?"

"That sword in your hand took me more than two and a half weeks, though there have been cases were I have created swords that have taken more than a month to make."

"You surprise me Oberon. A rare thing at my age. I might have a special job for you once this trial is over."

"Well it might cost you a bit Sir if you want me to make weapons, but lets get moving, I doubt that Malisa Hassan would be very happy if we were late."

"Are you ready for this trial?" George asked me. "We need you to remain calm and steady."

"I am as calm as I've always been." I said over my shoulder as I left the room and held the door of my apartment open for him. He quickly followed me out into the hall where he took the lead, because he knew the way to the court hall where this trial was to take place. When we finally arrived at the hall two of the guards to the hall crossed their spears in front of us and said

“You cannot pass as you currently are under arms.” I looked over at George who shook his head and said to the guard

“He has my permission." George said. "I will vouch for his actions." And with those words the guards step back and we enter the chambers. The chamber that we stepped into was of a good size. At the far end sat the Duke in a large throne-like chair. Next to the Duke’s chair there was another chair that was smaller and less ornate. Between the Duke and where we stood were three rows of benches split into left and right sides with an aisle down the center. A deep red cloth covered the floor. A court officer noticed the two of us and beckoned us forward to join the gallery where we were to wait until we were called upon to fulfil our separate roles in the trial.

"So what function are we going to be fulfilling here George?"

"Witnesses," the jackal explained. "When the time comes you will be asked to tell what you saw and did."

"You mean the two separate events when I encountered that idiot."

"Yes. Just take your time and tell all that you remember," George explained. "This Duke is a fair man, I mean stallion."

"I certainly hope that he gives this fanatic what is coming to him." George gives a short yip of amusement.

"You can be sure of that." I grumbled slightly as I sat down, adjusting the position of my swords and tail before I sat down in the chair that had been provided, it gave a rather alarming squeak in protest before quietening down.
"I guess this is going to take most of the day."

"Oberon. It is liable to take several days. Thomas takes dispensing justice VERY seriously and is in no hurry."

"Ouch! I hope that there will be time for me to take to train, I don't look forward to sitting in thins chair for the next week."

"Misha is right. You need to relax and move at a slower pace," George said. "You might find it interesting to see how the Duke handles things. Show what type of person he is."

"I'm sorry but I prefer to be out where the action is."

"For the next day or so THIS is where the action is. A good warrior knows how to handle himself without resorting to fighting."

"It's been a long time, and trust me a Kelmar trial never takes more than a day."

"Is a Kelmar trial more then just chopping off of a persons head?"

"Yes you have to have a witness to the crime who is a warrior, or rather a pair of warriors, if not the charges could be thrown out for lack of merit."

"And what of this fanatic? He thinks he is doing what is right. He believes that we are the evil that needs to be destroyed. To him he is committing no crime.

"That is different, he openly attacked a group of warriors, and at that point he is fighting against his clan and his overlord, which is one of the worst crimes that a Warrior can commit."

"I know places in the Midlands where many people think like he does. He would be considered a hero!"

“There are people that think rebelling against their overlord is the right thing to do!!” I said in a voice that clearly showed my disgust at the thought of betraying one’s overlord. The only reason I thought differently myself was because I had been in a position where I owed no one my allegiance.

“What if that Overlord is a murderous tyrant?” George Countered. “A monster murders just for the pleasure of it, do you follow his evil or rebel?” I nodded my head head slowly because the jackal had a point, that was probably one reason why the situation in my homeland had gotten on of control. Just as I was about to tell George as much the crocodile steward stood up and boomed

“All rise, this court of Metamor Keep is now in session under the benevolent rule of His Majesty the King of the Northern Midlands, and Duke of Metamor Keep Thomas Hassan V and his Prime Minister Lady Mallisa Hassan. This court has been convened to decide the guilt or innocence of one Sir Guy DeHarancourt.” I turned to George

“What’s that all about?” I asked the battered jackal morph.

“Legal trials here are very formal affairs, almost to the point of being a ritual. George explained. “As such they follow a set pattern.”

“Be seated the Duke Thomas intoned before he sat down in his throne. Beside him there was a lithe young woman who looked to him and smiled a little.

“Where did this pattern come from?” George shrugged his shoulders

“Probably from the Seuilman Empire. A lot of the laws and government have carried over from them to this day.” I shook my head slowly before I remarked

“Well in that case I guess that we’re really not quite as different as it may seem, my people’s laws also hark back from antiquity. In our case our laws came from the days of the Kelmar Empire just over three thousand years ago. That empire must’ve been a shining light of civilization and justice for you to take your inspirations from it.”

“No it wasn’t...not when the emperor himself was the biggest criminal. Most of the people who wound up in his courts were simply people that he disliked.” I spluttered at the thought of the Emperor being a criminal, the last Emperor of the Kelmar had been an upstanding warrior of the finest quality; the problem was the fact that he had borne, with his three wives, ten sons, to whom he had each given one of the treasures of the Empire. Each of those sons had desired the throne and to attain that throne they formed a clan of their most trusted followers to seize it. The end result was beginning of the Clan Wars and the formation of the Ten Great Clans that had dominated the wars. Finally I got myself under control enough to explain that to George. He shook his head before he softly said “Most of the emperors were good honest men but into every good family there comes bad seeds, people who spoil the entire group.” I nodded

“In my people’s case you could say that there were ten bad seeds who each wanted to rule the Empire, though it was their father who sowed those seeds.”

“Don’t you mean one bad seed instead of ten.” George answered. “Just one ruthless one who is willing to kill the other nine.”

“Not really George. Each of the ten sons possessed a weapon like this one here, “I put my hand on the ruby on the pommel of the Claw of the Dragon “, so they were all evenly matched in power.” At that point the Duke said

“Prosecutor can you please read the charges.” George shook his head

“What good is a weapon like that if they put poison in your food? Or they take you in the dark when you’re asleep?”

“You obviously haven’t been to my homeland. At that time in our history assassination and poisoning had yet to appear, they were developments of the Clan Wars, so each of the heirs to the Empire had no real fear of unconventional death.” A young woman who was sitting behind a table in front of the thrones stood up and read out the charges, which were scribed onto a piece of paper.

“The defendant, Sir Guy DeHarancourt of the Holy Order of the Protectors is charged with disturbing the King’s Peace, attacking caravans on the King’s Highway, Murder, being a highwayman, and rebellion against the crown.” The duke nodded slowly before he turned and asked

“How does the defendant plead?” The lawyer who was representing the fanatic knight, a smooth looking snake morph, stood up and said.

“My client has decided to plead...” At that moment the crazed fanatic, who was sitting in a sort of chair with wheels shouted.

“This court has no authority over me, I answer to one judge and one judge alone and that is Eli, may his blessings rain down on those who are righteous.”

“Quiet in the court,” a guard ordered “, Let the lawyer speak.”

“I have been brought to this nest of demons to cleanse it of evil and let those who are truly righteous take their place. You who Eli has rejected are below my notice. I...” The guard walked up to the fanatic as he spouted his garbage and physically restrained him while the defense lawyer finished what he had started to say before he was interrupted by his client.

“As I was saying before my client has decided to plead Not Guilty to the charges specified.” George shook his head before he muttered

“This trial is going to be really short if he keeps spouting crap like that.”

“We should just let this idiot convict himself of these charges. That way we don’t waste any of our time.” I softly replied. At that moment Thomas nodded his head and then said

“Understood. Is the prosecution ready?” The woman who had addressed the court earlier as the prosecutor stood up and replied

“We of the prosecution are seeking to demonstrate that the defendant is guilty of these charges and to prove that he did actively seek to undermine your rule Sire.”

“Call your first witness.” The Duke ordered the prosecutor.

“As the first witness we the prosecution call Sir Edmund Delacote of the Holy Order of the Protector.” The woman called out. I looked across the aisle to where the knight was sitting. He stood up and slowly made his way to the front of the court where he calmly sat down in a chair that had been provided. In a soft voice he finally said

“I am Sir Delacote.”

“Sir Delacote can you tell this court about the Order of Knights that you and Sir DeHarancourt are members of.”

“Ours is an Order of protectors. We protect the innocent and the helpless from harm and fight evil where ever it appears.”

“Then how would you explain the actions of Sir DeHarancourt?”

“Evil! It is the very thing that we knights are sworn to fight against!”

“Are you trying to tell this court that this man,” She indicated the fanatic with a hand “, is a renegade of your Order?”

“He is no longer a member of the order,” the cheetah answered. “I have sent word to the Headmaster. Sir DeHarancourt will be cast out from the order as soon as the Headmaster gets notice of these events.”

“So this is the first time that something like this has happened?”

“I’m deeply sorry to say that this isn’t the first time, but we are trying our hardest to prevent a repeat of these events here and all across the known lands.”

“I see, Sir Delacote. So what you are telling this court is that Sir DeHarancourt is simply one misguided soul in your Order, and not the norm.”

“Yes. A vicious, deluded fool, and a cold brutal killer with no conscience.”

“So you believe that there is nothing that you think that can redeem this man?” The cheetah shrugged

“No one is beyond redemption but he can no longer stay in the order. He has violated every vow that he’s taken as a paladin of the order.” The prosecutor nodded

“Sir Delacote how often have crimes been committed in the name of the order?”

“All to frequently, but the order does take care of its own, a renegade like Sir DeHarancourt would usually be punished by the order.”

“Are you telling this court that you will have this man removed from the King’s Justice in order to have him face your own version of justice?”

“If he was anywhere else he would, and it would be shorter and harsher. He would go before the Headmaster.”

“Well in the past most kings are short on justice and honesty, but Duke Thomas has shown me that he is different.”

“Ok and what about the victims of this man, will they be able to rest after he receives his justice from your Headmaster?” Sir Delacote looked down at the defendant before he slowly said

“What can we do for the dead? Other than say a prayer and be sure that no one else suffers from his evil.” Both the Duke and the prosecutor nodded before she said

“Thank you Edmund. You are dismissed.” The cheetah slowly stood up and returned to his seat. The prosecutor looks at a sheet of paper in front of her and says

“As our next witness the prosecution calls Adòn Naharél.” I looked over at George and then said to him,

“I guess I have to go up there now, I wasn’t expecting this to be so quick.” ,before I stood up.

“Be careful and stay calm.” George commented. I turned my head and nodded to him before I made my way to the chair that Sir Edmund Delacote had so recently vacated, and took my place, being careful to adjust the items on my belt so that they would hang properly and not get caught up in the chair.

“Adon,” the lawyer starts. “Tell this court how you first met the defendant.”

“It happened roughly a month and a half ago when I was serving as a guard on a caravan that was making its way up the King’s Highway towards the Keep. The caravan was ambushed by troops under the defendant’s command. During that engagement he offered a bounty on my head because I was the greatest threat to his operation since I was in charge of the caravan guards, as well as being the most skilled of the guards present. During the ensuing fight I was knocked senseless and brought here to the keep for care.”

“Did you get a good look at your attackers?”

“As far as I could tell they were pretty normal for highwaymen, though I did see the defendant, and hear his voice; I never forget a face or a voice. In general I would say that his highwaymen exhibited little real skill, and poor equipment, it was only through luck that they managed to hit me in the head.”

“I see. And did you ever meet these bandits again?”

“Yes I ran into them when the unit that I was a member of was assigned to escort a caravan out of the valley two days after the Equinox Festival ended. During that engagement the entire band of highwaymen was routed and I myself captured the defendant. When the fight started he shouted ‘Kill the Freaks first.”

“You’re sure he said those words?”

“Yes I am sure!!” I almost shouted my ears going flat against my skull “To question my word is to question my honour.” This woman was trying to get under my skin, questioning my honour, huh that would earn her a one way trip to trouble if she wasn’t more careful.”

“I am not questioning your honour, but we need to be perfectly clear about what happened.” I slowly let my ears back up before I replied

“I am being as clear as I possibly can about what I saw, heard, and took part in.” She nodded

“I understand but this is a man’s fate and we need to be sure of the facts.” I nodded slowly once more.

“Very well you may continue, but please try not to question my honour again. I am a Kelmar Warrior and I don’t appreciate someone questioning my honour.”

“I understand. Your honour means never lying or deliberately doing something deceptive. Is that correct?”

“That is correct ma’am prosecutor I will never lie or cheat even if it brings me to the gates of death.”

“Good. We are all here for the truth and to see that justice is served.” I nodded my head before I said

“You may continue your questioning.”

“Would you describe how the defendant was apprehended?”

“Ma’am you have to understand that my memory of the capture of Sir DeHarancourt is a little foggy, I was under the influence of a condition that my people call the Blood Rage. However, I can recall that I fenced with the defendant before I broke both of his legs and both of his collarbones.”

“Blood Rage? Is that like a berserker rage? Can you please tell us what you do remember and please be precise.”

“Well I can vaguely recall making my way through the forces under the command of the defendant, the results of which are never pretty especially when one is under the sway of the blood rage, before I faced the defendant. He was wearing a talbard bearing the mark of the Order of the Protector and wielding a two handed Great-Sword. We Fenced for a few moments before I incapacitated him, after that I had to move away from him before I myself passed out due to fatigue resulting from my use of the Blood Rage.”

“I understand. The person that you fought on that day, do you see him in this courtroom now? If you do please point him out.” I nodded my head and then pointed my right index finger at the defendant, to emphasize the point I extended the two inch long claw on that finger as I pointed. She nodded “Good, even in a blood rage you were clearly able to remember the defendant.”

“That was right at the end of my blood rage, otherwise all that I would remember would be a red haze and we probably wouldn’t be here right now.”

“After the rage left you what happened?” She asked

“As I stated earlier I passed out from fatigue. The blood rage drains a warrior’s resources, both physical and mental, as a result he needs time afterwards to recover. When I eventually woke up I gorged myself on meat before I went back to sleep.” At that point Duke Thomas stood up

“It is almost noon hour. We will break for lunch and return when the bell strikes two. Any objections?” I shook my head and then waited while the Duke, who also the King, left the room before I walked over to join George as he made his way out of the room.

“George do you know where there’s a good place to eat, other than one of the local mess halls?”

“Why not my office,” George asked me “, rank does have its privileges.”

“As long as the menu includes meat I’ll be glad to join you sir, I’m as close to a pure carnivore as you can get in this place.” George laughed before he replied

“I’m the Master of the Scouts. I make my own menu.” He continued to laugh as he made his way out of the courtroom with me at his side. I smiled a little ruefully at his last comment before I interjected

“That is true sir you are the master of the scouts. By the way the only thing that can make my diet more interesting is seasoning my meat, hell I can barely stomach cooked meat!”

“Well that comes with your new form. A tiger is a carnivore, but you can eat other things besides meat. However, I’ll make sure that there is plenty of meat for both of us.”

“I have tried a few things, on my first day in this form I tried a whole bunch of things, and the results weren’t pleasant.”

“It take some getting used to. You have a new body with new wants and needs.” When we reached his office he directed me to sit in a chair opposite his own and rang a small bell to summon a servant. When she reached the room he turned to her and ordered

“Lunch for two Sally. Lots of beef, very rare for the tiger.”

“Are your trials always like this Sir?” I asked him after the servant left the room.” George shrugged his shoulders

“Oh, what about your prosecutors, are they always this inconsiderate of the rank of those who they are questioning?”

“They have to be complete. A man’s life is at stake and they cannot miss any details.”

“Well there was a point where she was on the verge of insulting my honour.”

“Don’t take it too personally. She just had to be sure of the truth of your statements. She meant no dishonour.” I nodded my head just as the servant came back into the room with two plates stacked high with large slabs of meat. Once she placed the plates on the desk in front of us I unsheathed my by-knife from its place in the same scabbard as the Claw and picked up a slab of meat from my plate. When I finished the piece of meat I looked up and asked George

“You have anything to drink in this office.” George nodded and then stood, opened a cabinet, and removed a bottle of wine and two shallow bowls before placing them on the desk.

“I ALWAYS have wine on hand.”

“Lets hope that it agrees with my body.”

“It’s a mild wine Oberon. We have to stay sober for the afternoon segment of the trial.” I nodded my head as he poured the red fluid into my bowl. As I brought it up to my muzzle I wrinkled my lip to bring the odour past a small organ in the roof of my mouth. The vintage was rather good, though it wasn't all that strong. I lapped up some of the wine and savoured the flavour before I cut off a new piece of meat and began to eat

"That's good wine Sir."

"It's from the Southlands." George explains. "I have it brought here along with a few other bits of luxury.”

“It appears that you enjoy your current position sir.” George smiles revealing a large set of sharp teeth.

"I do but I have earned these privileges." I smiled in reply displaying my somewhat larger set of teeth before I said

"Rank hath some privileges. At least I've always thought it did in the past."

"Here rank must be earned!" George explained. "To gain the Dukes trust you must earn it."

"I guess I will have to do something about that, in my homeland is my birthright, though on this continent I have gotten used to my position at the bottom of the social ladder. Someday I would like to have a position akin to what I had before back home."

"Well you will have to earn it though but I don't see that as a problem for you. Misha already has his eye on you for his little group." I felt my ears swivel forward as I looked at him in interest,

"He already told me as much a week ago." George laughed.

"That got your attention. You ever hear of the Long Scouts?” I nodded my head ruefully before I replied

"Yes I have personally gotten to know their commander, he was the one that tracked me down when I went out north a day after I changed my form. Since then I've heard that they are the elites of this place from other people in the scouts."

"They are. I've never run into any as good as them. They are the point of the sound. They do some VERY dangerous tasks. We are considering asking you to join."

"I would consider it a great honour to do so sir."

“Don't get too honoured. You have to earn it first. Misha has some high standards. But I think you will pass the tests." I nodded in respect to him as I finished my final slab of meat before I leaned back in the chair, which squealed in protest to the shifting of my weight.

"That was quite tasty, what does your cook use to season this meat?"

"She uses special spices from all over the Midlands. Including some from the Giantdowns." George explained.

“Well whatever she used, its a lot better than what they serve in the mess halls. I will have to get my hands on some of these seasonings.” George laughed.

"Rank has it's privileges."

“Well at least you can have her tell me where she gets these seasonings so that I can get my own.”

"To be honest I've never asked Samantha where she gets her spices. but i will ask her the next time we talk."

"Thank you sir, I would appreciate it." I looked up around and noted the sword that was hanging by the door. "George is that sword the same old hunk of metal that you were using in Pyralis all those years ago?" George looked up at the old weapon.

"It is. I've grown rather fond of it."

"Would you like a new one, I can make you one of my own swords, at a cost of course."

"A new one? I wouldn't mind a new weapon. Something with a bit more power.” Since the only weapon that I possessed that George could take a look at was my short-sword, I withdrew it from its scabbard and handed it to him hilt first.

"This is an example of the work that I can do, I can even make a weapon specially customized for you though that would cost you a little more." George carefully takes the weapon and examines it closely.

"Very fine quality work Oberon. I never knew you did such fine work." He said before he turned the weapon around and handed it back to me. I took the weapon and carefully returned it to its scabbard.

“Well I can make one of these style swords for your if you want, though it will take me some time to get the materials together, the iron bars that I had for forging are pretty much all gone, so I have to find a good place to get myself a steady supply of the things. Other than that it shouldn’t be too difficult.”

"I'd prefer another cutlass. I've grown used to handling one. And I do have to live up to my name George the Cutlass."

"I can make most straight swords, though I don't really have a whole lot of experience making curved blades." George nodded.

"Do what your skill allows." he answers enigmatically. I stood up and asked George

"Can you please stand and hand me that piece of string over there. I need to get good measurements in order for this weapon to be perfectly balanced for you." George stands up.

"I want a sword not a suit of armor. Why the needed measurements?" I laughed for a moment before I replied

"If you want me to make a sword that is perfectly suited for you I will have to make certain measurements, length of your arm, and length of hand and fingers to name a few. Otherwise it would simply be a stock weapon and not one that is designed and forged for you alone."

“Fair enough," George says before holding his arms out so that I could measure him. "Measure me." I carefully used the piece of string that George had handed me to make all of the measurements and taking them down in a notepad that I kept in my belt pouch. When I was finished with the measurements I said

"It will take me roughly three to four weeks before your new sword will be ready, though it might take longer if I'm not able to get a hold of a reliable source of iron. Now about the price, by my reckoning this weapon will be around eighty-five garrets." George takes a small pouch of coins from off of his desk and hands them to the cat.

"Will these do?" I carefully counted out the coins before I nodded and placed them in my belt pouch

"I didn't expect to get through this without haggling. When I bought a clock from Misha during the Equinox Festival he haggled like an old fishwife." George chuckles.

"I'm too old to haggle and I have enough wealth so I don't have to."

"Oh there are times when I enjoy the odd haggle but there are times when I would rather just get down to business."

"I just prefer getting down to business." George explains. "I hate wasting time needlessly." I sat back down in the chair, which had probably already been abused too much, and it promptly collapsed under my weight. George peered over his desk at me where I was sitting on the floor amidst the broken chair parts. "That was a good chair Oberon."

"Evidently it just wasn't designed to take the weight of a 445 pound feline though was it?" George laughs.

"Few things are! Don't just sit there on the floor. Grab yourself another chair. I'll have that one replaced tomorrow."

"I think that you should make sure that the next chair you get is made for heavier people."

"I'll have the next one made of stone." he laughed. I chuckled at his comment as I pulled up another chair and put the pieces of the old one into the bin by the fireplace

"At least you don't have to worry about where to get your firewood for a few minutes."

"I burn coal in my fires Oberon. It lasts longer and has a lot less mess." the jackal explained.

"True, I have a different use for coal but it is just as important, speaking of which do you know where I could possibly find a supply of high quality anthracite coal?" George was quiet for a moment. "That must be imported from the south. But Misha I believe uses it for his metalworking. He will know where to get it."

"Great. Last I heard that fox was out on patrol."

"Why not ask Caroline? She might know. they are engaged to be married."

“I’m not sure, I’ve never met her yet and no one has been able to point her out to me either.” I answered with my trepidation clearly evident in my voice.

"Never met the otter?" he says. "After the trial I'll introduce you to her."

“I would appreciate it sir.” I said, though my tone still indicated a distinct lack of enthusiasm, even to me.

"Something wrong with meeting her? Caroline is a good friend."

"I don't know, its just that I've already run into enough people here and made enough of a fool of myself in front of them at one time or another. I mean look at Kent or Jonah they had to carry me to Glen Avery after I got hit by the lutin mage, I should've been able to smell him before he managed to attack me."

"Oberon the keep is packed full of people. You can't avoid them forever. You are trapped here at the Keep so get used to meeting people. And you were attacked by a mage. that was not your fault."

“None the less I still lost face in front of people who were relying on me to eliminate those kind of threats.” George shakes his head.

"These lutins have no honour. You'd best remember that. Never let your honour get in the way of saving your friends lives."

"I understand." I commented as I finished my last bowl of wine and stood up once more to stretch out and yawn, displaying my impressive set of teeth for the jackal to see in all of their brutal glory.

"My what big teeth you have Grandma," George jokes quoting an old fairy tale. I chuckled again once my mouth closed before I asked rhetorically

"Don't you just love having the features of a jackal?"

"YES! I have my own sharp teeth. And the jackals hearing and sense of smell is great! Even my sense of taste is increased."

"My own senses improved, though my sense of taste took a hit. The most improved are my ears, and my eyes, though my sense of smell is still much better than it was when I was a human. My body also came with a few features that aren't something that any human would be used to." To demonstrate that point I held up my right hand and extended all of my two inch long finger claws. "But are the advantages worth the permanent exile to this region?"

"Yes. unlike you I had a choice. I chose to come here and let the curse take me. I came here to spend the rest of my life and I've never regretted it." I slowly nodded my head and then told George that we should get back to the courtroom where the trial would be recommencing in a couple of minutes. George sighed. "Unfortunately we do need to get back to the trial."

The rest of the afternoon was spent in absolute boredom as the trial droned on. This trial was a lesson in boredom. There was actually one point where I dropped off, George was so pleasant as to nudge me in the ribs to wake me up. In fact the next few days followed that pattern until the morning of the fourth day of the trial

I awoke to a loud knocking on my door. I shook my head to clear the sleep from my senses before I got out of bed. When I opened the door I had nothing but my thick black and white fur on, not it bothered me at all my fur concealed everything that I would want to hide from public view. Standing on the other side of the door was on of the castle messengers.

“Sir I have been requested to inform you to go to the dungeons as soon as possible something has come up.”

“I understand” I told the messenger before I closed the door and quickly got dressed. Whatever this was about it was obviously very important and it probably had something to do with the trial that was taking place right now.

When I go down to the dungeons I heard a sound that was the sort which could rend a man’s heart, that is if he or she still had one, it was the sound of a child crying. A few moments later I was standing in front of one of the cells where the sounds were coming from. One of the guards looked up at me and then said

“It was bound to happen sooner or later.”

“What do you mean?”

“That fanatic knight Sir Guy DeHarancourt has come under the influence of the curse. This is his new form.” Inside the cell there was a small form curled up in a ball letting loose piteous cries that sounded nothing like the knight that I had seen for the past few days in the courtroom. After looking at the gray furred form in the corner for a few more minutes I gave the guards a signal and said

“If you don’t mind I’m going to go take a look at the prisoner, and no you don’t have to worry about him hurting me, I’m easily capable of defending myself.” The two guards looked at each before the first one opened the door and let me into the cell. I crouched down when I reached the small gray form and put my hand on its shoulder. He turned his face up to look at me and I was shocked at what I saw, it was a wildcat kitten morph. The only thing that I could see in his large golden slit pupil eyes was fear and a lack of understanding. He held up his arms in a childish gesture of pleading and I didn’t feel all that bad about abiding by his request. As I held him in my arms he asked me

“Why is this happening?” That really shook my confidence. When I looked into his eyes I couldn’t see any of the hatred or malice that had existed in his eyes previously. This really disturbed me, this was one thing that I didn’t expect, usually a criminal couldn’t get any sympathy but now I really wasn’t sure. I just hoped that this problem could be solved in a humane manner. This trial had just gotten a whole lot more complicated. Ten minutes later I got back to my room and knelt on the floor where I slowly sat down on the floor and began to pray to Savnator for guidance. I hope that she could give me the guidance that I needed now and in the future.

The next morning everyone assembled in the courtroom where the fate of the former knight Sir Guy DeHarancourt was to be decided. As I sat down beside George he looked into my eyes and asked me

"What are you thinking? You look pretty upset."

"I really don't know about this George, I find it hard to consider harming him now, especially after I saw him yesterday. There was no hate or malice left in him, at least there didn't appear to be any." George shrugged.

"The curse can do some really strange things to a person. He might be a total innocent child again." I looked at George carefully before I managed reply

“That is what I’m so concerned about, what if he is as innocent as any other child and not a mindless fanatic like he was before?”

"He might be faking it but I doubt it. it seems the curse has seen fit to give the fanatic a new chance at life."

“Who will care for him now if he survives this trial?” George scratched at his left ear before he finally answered

“Hmmm - I'm tempted to say Father Hough or perhaps a couple with no children?”

“Father Hough?”

"Father Hough is the local Follower priest here. A good and honest man. I'd trust him with my life."

"Follower, I've had some bad run ins with them. They don't seem to understand that I have my own faith and my own gods." George nods.

"I know but this priest is a fair and opened minded person."

“To tell you the truth I’ve even had some of those Lothanasi Priests chasing me around because of my faith.”

"The lightBringers and the Followers get along pretty well here. Each leaves the others alone and in peace."

“The question is will they leave me alone to my own faith and beliefs?”

"Yes they will. As long as you leave them alone."

“I certainly don’t intend to start a religious war if that is what you mean. All I want from them is the freedom to worship my gods without any interference from them.”

"As long as you keep the peace there will be no problems." I nodded and then turned and watched as the Duke ascended to his throne where he was about to read his verdict considering the case

"I hope that the child isn't punished too heavily." I commented to George. George shook his head.

"I doubt it. Thomas is a fair man." The duke looked down at his papers before he finally said

"I thought the decision on what to do with the criminal was mine but it seems the curse has made the choice for me. I cannot in good conscience have this young kitten killed." I signed in relief before I asked George

“So what do you think will happen to him?”

"I'll honor that request Father and remand the new kitten into your care." I smiled and then looked over at George before I said quietly

"Sung koshodra bai rtan hdran."

"What does that mean?" the canine asked me in confusion. I grinned slowly before I answered

"The helpless you will defend. Its an old Kelmar proverb that most warriors live by." George smiled and stood up before he said

“That’s something that everyone should live by.” Before he turned and left the room. I remained sitting there for a few moments before I headed for my quarters. I had a lot of things to do including going down to Euper to see if I could find myself a good supply of iron so that I could make the sword that I had sold to George. Before I took care of that though I had to give a prayer of thanks to Savnator for how she had guided the events of this day.

{{series bar
|previous=[[The Joy of the Hunt]]
|next=[[The Raid]]
}}

The Trial

2017-07-12T12:51:29Z

Lem: correct autospell errors

[[Category:Story]] [[Category:Animal]]
{{DEFAULTSORT: Trial, The}}
[[Category:Metamor Keep]]
[[Category:Oberon]]
{{editing requested}}{{universe|Metamor Keep}}

By: [[User:Oberon|Oberon]]

It had been just over a week since I had come back to the keep with a hole in my chest, but now finally Brian Coe, the healer had cleared me for action once more, however I first had to take care of that dumb trial that I was required to attend. I wondered why things couldn’t be more like my homeland where justice was swift and brutal, there was a strong level of deterrent in the system of justice in the Clanlands. The result of which was a relatively low crime rate. Things here though were different, with some trial in front of the local lord, in this case Duke Thomas Hassan V of the Metamor Valley and hereditary King of the Northern Midlands, though that title no longer really meant all that much since those territories had long since passed beyond the control of the Dukes of Metamor Keep.

This morning I slowly and carefully got dressed and groomed, I wanted to be sure that I looked my best if I was going to be standing in front of the whole court of the Duke. I had been trained by my father how to act when in formal situations, mind you in those situations I had been the one sitting beside him in the high chair, and now I was nought but a witness in a trial. I carefully went through my clothes, taking out a velvet black and red kilt, a gold trimmed leather vest, my second most elaborate sword-belt which featured gold threading, and a black velvet cloak with a red lining. When I finished dressing I carefully attached several weapons to my belt. The Claw of the Dragon, one of my short-swords, a dagger, and three of my throwing knives, though they were concealed behind my back. Almost as soon as I finished getting dressed, and properly groomed for the day ahead of me there was a knock on the door. When I opened it I found myself looking down at George, the patrol master.

“What are you doing here George?” I asked him. He looked up at me and waggled one ear before he replied

“I was coming to get you and make sure that you’re ready for the trial today. It’s only a few hours away.”

"I as ready for it as I will ever be. The whole reason for this sort thing sort of escapes me. Back home if we had two witnesses who were warriors then the person would be assumed to be guilty and executed on the spot."

"Well justice here is a bit more open and fair. Everyone gets a chance to defend their actions. The Duke himself will decide what fate for that fanatic."

"What about these," I indicated my belt, which had my most discrete collection of weapons hung on it ", last time I was any where near the Duke, other than during the festival I was tossed out of the room my that oversized crocodile that he uses as his steward and a pair of guards. I will not enter that room unarmed. To do so would be a supreme dishonour that even I cannot face."

"You cannot carry an entire armoury, but I will speak to the Thomas and get you special permission. With that fanatic I'll feel better with you being armed." I brought my fist up over my heart and bowed my head to George in respect before I thanked him

"Thank You George I will make sure that there is no reason for your trust to be questioned." He stepped into my apartment and looked around taking notice of the desk with the clock that I had bought from Misha, and the papers that were laying on the desk. He picked one up and then placed it back down again before he noticed the open door to my forge room.

"A forge! What type of smith are you?" I laughed slowly at his question before I replied

"I'm a Kelmar Bladelord of the Bronze, that means that I am both a Blademaster of the Gold and a Swordmaster of the Black. As such I am a 1st level master weapon-smith, and a 3rd level master warrior."

"A weaponsmith. Good. We need weapons here at the keep. Can you make us some?"

"The weapons that I make take quite a while to create George and they also take a lot of personal sacrifice. I went over and picked up a long-sword in its scabbard and handed it to him. He looked at the weapon and then drew the blade form the scabbard noticing the Kelmar watermarks on the blade.

“I’ve noticed that all of your weapons have these marks on them, is that something that is unique to your weapons?” I nodded before I replied

“It is something that I’ve only seen in one other culture’s weapons and they’ve only managed to figure out how to get one edge to have these tempering marks on their blades, not both edges.” He nodded slowly

"Special weapons" George said. "Nothing for the common soldiers? how long does it take to such a weapon?"

"That sword in your hand took me more than two and a half weeks, though there have been cases were I have created swords that have taken more than a month to make."

"You surprise me Oberon. A rare thing at my age. I might have a special job for you once this trial is over."

"Well it might cost you a bit Sir if you want me to make weapons, but lets get moving, I doubt that Malisa Hassan would be very happy if we were late."

"Are you ready for this trial?" George asked me. "We need you to remain calm and steady."

"I am as calm as I've always been." I said over my shoulder as I left the room and held the door of my apartment open for him. He quickly followed me out into the hall where he took the lead, because he knew the way to the court hall where this trial was to take place. When we finally arrived at the hall two of the guards to the hall crossed their spears in front of us and said

“You cannot pass as you currently are under arms.” I looked over at George who shook his head and said to the guard

“He has my permission." George said. "I will vouch for his actions." And with those words the guards step back and we enter the chambers. The chamber that we stepped into was of a good size. At the far end sat the Duke in a large throne-like chair. Next to the Duke’s chair there was another chair that was smaller and less ornate. Between the Duke and where we stood were three rows of benches split into left and right sides with an aisle down the center. A deep red cloth covered the floor. A court officer noticed the two of us and beckoned us forward to join the gallery where we were to wait until we were called upon to fulfil our separate roles in the trial.

"So what function are we going to be fulfilling here George?"

"Witnesses," the jackal explained. "When the time comes you will be asked to tell what you saw and did."

"You mean the two separate events when I encountered that idiot."

"Yes. Just take your time and tell all that you remember," George explained. "This Duke is a fair man, I mean stallion."

"I certainly hope that he gives this fanatic what is coming to him." George gives a short yip of amusement.

"You can be sure of that." I grumbled slightly as I sat down, adjusting the position of my swords and tail before I sat down in the chair that had been provided, it gave a rather alarming squeak in protest before quietening down.
"I guess this is going to take most of the day."

"Oberon. It is liable to take several days. Thomas takes dispensing justice VERY seriously and is in no hurry."

"Ouch! I hope that there will be time for me to take to train, I don't look forward to sitting in thins chair for the next week."

"Misha is right. You need to relax and move at a slower pace," George said. "You might find it interesting to see how the Duke handles things. Show what type of person he is."

"I'm sorry but I prefer to be out where the action is."

"For the next day or so THIS is where the action is. A good warrior knows how to handle himself without resorting to fighting."

"It's been a long time, and trust me a Kelmar trial never takes more than a day."

"Is a Kelmar trial more then just chopping off of a persons head?"

"Yes you have to have a witness to the crime who is a warrior, or rather a pair of warriors, if not the charges could be thrown out for lack of merit."

"And what of this fanatic? He thinks he is doing what is right. He believes that we are the evil that needs to be destroyed. To him he is committing no crime.

"That is different, he openly attacked a group of warriors, and at that point he is fighting against his clan and his overlord, which is one of the worst crimes that a Warrior can commit."

"I know places in the Midlands where many people think like he does. He would be considered a hero!"

“There are people that think rebelling against their overlord is the right thing to do!!” I said in a voice that clearly showed my disgust at the thought of betraying one’s overlord. The only reason I thought differently myself was because I had been in a position where I owed no one my allegiance.

“What if that Overlord is a murderous tyrant?” George Countered. “A monster murders just for the pleasure of it, do you follow his evil or rebel?” I nodded my head head slowly because the jackal had a point, that was probably one reason why the situation in my homeland had gotten on of control. Just as I was about to tell George as much the crocodile steward stood up and boomed

“All rise, this court of Metamor Keep is now in session under the benevolent rule of His Majesty the King of the Northern Midlands, and Duke of Metamor Keep Thomas Hassan V and his Prime Minister Lady Mallisa Hassan. This court has been convened to decide the guilt or innocence of one Sir Guy DeHarancourt.” I turned to George

“What’s that all about?” I asked the battered jackal morph.

“Legal trials here are very formal affairs, almost to the point of being a ritual. George explained. “As such they follow a set pattern.”

“Be seated the Duke Thomas intoned before he sat down in his throne. Beside him there was a lithe young woman who looked to him and smiled a little.

“Where did this pattern come from?” George shrugged his shoulders

“Probably from the Seuilman Empire. A lot of the laws and government have carried over from them to this day.” I shook my head slowly before I remarked

“Well in that case I guess that we’re really not quite as different as it may seem, my people’s laws also hark back from antiquity. In our case our laws came from the days of the Kelmar Empire just over three thousand years ago. That empire must’ve been a shining light of civilization and justice for you to take your inspirations from it.”

“No it wasn’t...not when the emperor himself was the biggest criminal. Most of the people who wound up in his courts were simply people that he disliked.” I spluttered at the thought of the Emperor being a criminal, the last Emperor of the Kelmar had been an upstanding warrior of the finest quality; the problem was the fact that he had borne, with his three wives, ten sons, to whom he had each given one of the treasures of the Empire. Each of those sons had desired the throne and to attain that throne they formed a clan of their most trusted followers to seize it. The end result was beginning of the Clan Wars and the formation of the Ten Great Clans that had dominated the wars. Finally I got myself under control enough to explain that to George. He shook his head before he softly said “Most of the emperors were good honest men but into every good family there comes bad seeds, people who spoil the entire group.” I nodded

“In my people’s case you could say that there were ten bad seeds who each wanted to rule the Empire, though it was their father who sowed those seeds.”

“Don’t you mean one bad seed instead of ten.” George answered. “Just one ruthless one who is willing to kill the other nine.”

“Not really George. Each of the ten sons possessed a weapon like this one here, “I put my hand on the ruby on the pommel of the Claw of the Dragon “, so they were all evenly matched in power.” At that point the Duke said

“Prosecutor can you please read the charges.” George shook his head

“What good is a weapon like that if they put poison in your food? Or they take you in the dark when you’re asleep?”

“You obviously haven’t been to my homeland. At that time in our history assassination and poisoning had yet to appear, they were developments of the Clan Wars, so each of the heirs to the Empire had no real fear of unconventional death.” A young woman who was sitting behind a table in front of the thrones stood up and read out the charges, which were scribed onto a piece of paper.

“The defendant, Sir Guy DeHarancourt of the Holy Order of the Protectors is charged with disturbing the King’s Peace, attacking caravans on the King’s Highway, Murder, being a highwayman, and rebellion against the crown.” The duke nodded slowly before he turned and asked

“How does the defendant plead?” The lawyer who was representing the fanatic knight, a smooth looking snake morph, stood up and said.

“My client has decided to plead...” At that moment the crazed fanatic, who was sitting in a sort of chair with wheels shouted.

“This court has no authority over me, I answer to one judge and one judge alone and that is Eli, may his blessings rain down on those who are righteous.”

“Quiet in the court,” a guard ordered “, Let the lawyer speak.”

“I have been brought to this nest of demons to cleanse it of evil and let those who are truly righteous take their place. You who Eli has rejected are below my notice. I...” The guard walked up to the fanatic as he spouted his garbage and physically restrained him while the defense lawyer finished what he had started to say before he was interrupted by his client.

“As I was saying before my client has decided to plead Not Guilty to the charges specified.” George shook his head before he muttered

“This trial is going to be really short if he keeps spouting crap like that.”

“We should just let this idiot convict himself of these charges. That way we don’t waste any of our time.” I softly replied. At that moment Thomas nodded his head and then said

“Understood. Is the prosecution ready?” The woman who had addressed the court earlier as the prosecutor stood up and replied

“We of the prosecution are seeking to demonstrate that the defendant is guilty of these charges and to prove that he did actively seek to undermine your rule Sire.”

“Call your first witness.” The Duke ordered the prosecutor.

“As the first witness we the prosecution call Sir Edmund Delacote of the Holy Order of the Protector.” The woman called out. I looked across the aisle to where the knight was sitting. He stood up and slowly made his way to the front of the court where he calmly sat down in a chair that had been provided. In a soft voice he finally said

“I am Sir Delacote.”

“Sir Delacote can you tell this court about the Order of Knights that you and Sir DeHarancourt are members of.”

“Ours is an Order of protectors. We protect the innocent and the helpless from harm and fight evil where ever it appears.”

“Then how would you explain the actions of Sir DeHarancourt?”

“Evil! It is the very thing that we knights are sworn to fight against!”

“Are you trying to tell this court that this man,” She indicated the fanatic with a hand “, is a renegade of your Order?”

“He is no longer a member of the order,” the cheetah answered. “I have sent word to the Headmaster. Sir DeHarancourt will be cast out from the order as soon as the Headmaster gets notice of these events.”

“So this is the first time that something like this has happened?”

“I’m deeply sorry to say that this isn’t the first time, but we are trying our hardest to prevent a repeat of these events here and all across the known lands.”

“I see, Sir Delacote. So what you are telling this court is that Sir DeHarancourt is simply one misguided soul in your Order, and not the norm.”

“Yes. A vicious, deluded fool, and a cold brutal killer with no conscience.”

“So you believe that there is nothing that you think that can redeem this man?” The cheetah shrugged

“No one is beyond redemption but he can no longer stay in the order. He has violated every vow that he’s taken as a paladin of the order.” The prosecutor nodded

“Sir Delacote how often have crimes been committed in the name of the order?”

“All to frequently, but the order does take care of its own, a renegade like Sir DeHarancourt would usually be punished by the order.”

“Are you telling this court that you will have this man removed from the King’s Justice in order to have him face your own version of justice?”

“If he was anywhere else he would, and it would be shorter and harsher. He would go before the Headmaster.”

“Well in the past most kings are short on justice and honesty, but Duke Thomas has shown me that he is different.”

“Ok and what about the victims of this man, will they be able to rest after he receives his justice from your Headmaster?” Sir Delacote looked down at the defendant before he slowly said

“What can we do for the dead? Other than say a prayer and be sure that no one else suffers from his evil.” Both the Duke and the prosecutor nodded before she said

“Thank you Edmund. You are dismissed.” The cheetah slowly stood up and returned to his seat. The prosecutor looks at a sheet of paper in front of her and says

“As our next witness the prosecution calls Adòn Naharél.” I looked over at George and then said to him,

“I guess I have to go up there now, I wasn’t expecting this to be so quick.” ,before I stood up.

“Be careful and stay calm.” George commented. I turned my head and nodded to him before I made my way to the chair that Sir Edmund Delacote had so recently vacated, and took my place, being careful to adjust the items on my belt so that they would hang properly and not get caught up in the chair.

“Adon,” the lawyer starts. “Tell this court how you first met the defendant.”

“It happened roughly a month and a half ago when I was serving as a guard on a caravan that was making its way up the King’s Highway towards the Keep. The caravan was ambushed by troops under the defendant’s command. During that engagement he offered a bounty on my head because I was the greatest threat to his operation since I was in charge of the caravan guards, as well as being the most skilled of the guards present. During the ensuing fight I was knocked senseless and brought here to the keep for care.”

“Did you get a good look at your attackers?”

“As far as I could tell they were pretty normal for highwaymen, though I did see the defendant, and hear his voice; I never forget a face or a voice. In general I would say that his highwaymen exhibited little real skill, and poor equipment, it was only through luck that they managed to hit me in the head.”

“I see. And did you ever meet these bandits again?”

“Yes I ran into them when the unit that I was a member of was assigned to escort a caravan out of the valley two days after the Equinox Festival ended. During that engagement the entire band of highwaymen was routed and I myself captured the defendant. When the fight started he shouted ‘Kill the Freaks first.”

“You’re sure he said those words?”

“Yes I am sure!!” I almost shouted my ears going flat against my skull “To question my word is to question my honour.” This woman was trying to get under my skin, questioning my honour, huh that would earn her a one way trip to trouble if she wasn’t more careful.”

“I am not questioning your honour, but we need to be perfectly clear about what happened.” I slowly let my ears back up before I replied

“I am being as clear as I possibly can about what I saw, heard, and took part in.” She nodded

“I understand but this is a man’s fate and we need to be sure of the facts.” I nodded slowly once more.

“Very well you may continue, but please try not to question my honour again. I am a Kelmar Warrior and I don’t appreciate someone questioning my honour.”

“I understand. Your honour means never lying or deliberately doing something deceptive. Is that correct?”

“That is correct ma’am prosecutor I will never lie or cheat even if it brings me to the gates of death.”

“Good. We are all here for the truth and to see that justice is served.” I nodded my head before I said

“You may continue your questioning.”

“Would you describe how the defendant was apprehended?”

“Ma’am you have to understand that my memory of the capture of Sir DeHarancourt is a little foggy, I was under the influence of a condition that my people call the Blood Rage. However, I can recall that I fenced with the defendant before I broke both of his legs and both of his collarbones.”

“Blood Rage? Is that like a berserker rage? Can you please tell us what you do remember and please be precise.”

“Well I can vaguely recall making my way through the forces under the command of the defendant, the results of which are never pretty especially when one is under the sway of the blood rage, before I faced the defendant. He was wearing a talbard bearing the mark of the Order of the Protector and wielding a two handed Great-Sword. We Fenced for a few moments before I incapacitated him, after that I had to move away from him before I myself passed out due to fatigue resulting from my use of the Blood Rage.”

“I understand. The person that you fought on that day, do you see him in this courtroom now? If you do please point him out.” I nodded my head and then pointed my right index finger at the defendant, to emphasize the point I extended the two inch long claw on that finger as I pointed. She nodded “Good, even in a blood rage you were clearly able to remember the defendant.”

“That was right at the end of my blood rage, otherwise all that I would remember would be a red haze and we probably wouldn’t be here right now.”

“After the rage left you what happened?” She asked

“As I stated earlier I passed out from fatigue. The blood rage drains a warrior’s resources, both physical and mental, as a result he needs time afterwards to recover. When I eventually woke up I gorged myself on meat before I went back to sleep.” At that point Duke Thomas stood up

“It is almost noon hour. We will break for lunch and return when the bell strikes two. Any objections?” I shook my head and then waited while the Duke, who also the King, left the room before I walked over to join George as he made his way out of the room.

“George do you know where there’s a good place to eat, other than one of the local mess halls?”

“Why not my office,” George asked me “, rank does have its privileges.”

“As long as the menu includes meat I’ll be glad to join you sir, I’m as close to a pure carnivore as you can get in this place.” George laughed before he replied

“I’m the Master of the Scouts. I make my own menu.” He continued to laugh as he made his way out of the courtroom with me at his side. I smiled a little ruefully at his last comment before I interjected

“That is true sir you are the master of the scouts. By the way the only thing that can make my diet more interesting is seasoning my meat, hell I can barely stomach cooked meat!”

“Well that comes with your new form. A tiger is a carnivore, but you can eat other things besides meat. However, I’ll make sure that there is plenty of meat for both of us.”

“I have tried a few things, on my first day in this form I tried a whole bunch of things, and the results weren’t pleasant.”

“It take some getting used to. You have a new body with new wants and needs.” When we reached his office he directed me to sit in a chair opposite his own and rang a small bell to summon a servant. When she reached the room he turned to her and ordered

“Lunch for two Sally. Lots of beef, very rare for the tiger.”

“Are your trials always like this Sir?” I asked him after the servant left the room.” George shrugged his shoulders

“Oh, what about your prosecutors, are they always this inconsiderate of the rank of those who they are questioning?”

“They have to be complete. A man’s life is at stake and they cannot miss any details.”

“Well there was a point where she was on the verge of insulting my honour.”

“Don’t take it too personally. She just had to be sure of the truth of your statements. She meant no dishonour.” I nodded my head just as the servant came back into the room with two plates stacked high with large slabs of meat. Once she placed the plates on the desk in front of us I unsheathed my by-knife from its place in the same scabbard as the Claw and picked up a slab of meat from my plate. When I finished the piece of meat I looked up and asked George

“You have anything to drink in this office.” George nodded and then stood, opened a cabinet, and removed a bottle of wine and two shallow bowls before placing them on the desk.

“I ALWAYS have wine on hand.”

“Lets hope that it agrees with my body.”

“It’s a mild wine Oberon. We have to stay sober for the afternoon segment of the trial.” I nodded my head as he poured the red fluid into my bowl. As I brought it up to my muzzle I wrinkled my lip to bring the odour past a small organ in the roof of my mouth. The vintage was rather good, though it wasn't all that strong. I lapped up some of the wine and savoured the flavour before I cut off a new piece of meat and began to eat

"That's good wine Sir."

"It's from the Southlands." George explains. "I have it brought here along with a few other bits of luxury.”

“It appears that you enjoy your current position sir.” George smiles revealing a large set of sharp teeth.

"I do but I have earned these privileges." I smiled in reply displaying my somewhat larger set of teeth before I said

"Rank hath some privileges. At least I've always thought it did in the past."

"Here rank must be earned!" George explained. "To gain the Dukes trust you must earn it."

"I guess I will have to do something about that, in my homeland is my birthright, though on this continent I have gotten used to my position at the bottom of the social ladder. Someday I would like to have a position akin to what I had before back home."

"Well you will have to earn it though but I don't see that as a problem for you. Misha already has his eye on you for his little group." I felt my ears swivel forward as I looked at him in interest,

"He already told me as much a week ago." George laughed.

"That got your attention. You ever hear of the Long Scouts?” I nodded my head ruefully before I replied

"Yes I have personally gotten to know their commander, he was the one that tracked me down when I went out north a day after I changed my form. Since then I've heard that they are the elites of this place from other people in the scouts."

"They are. I've never run into any as good as them. They are the point of the sound. They do some VERY dangerous tasks. We are considering asking you to join."

"I would consider it a great honour to do so sir."

“Don't get too honoured. You have to earn it first. Misha has some high standards. But I think you pass the tests." I nodded in respect to him as I finished my final slab of meat before I leaned back in the chair, which squealed in protest to the shifting of my weight.

"That was quite tasty, what does your cook use to season this meat?"

"She uses special spices from all over the Midlands. Including some from the Giantdowns." George explained.

“Well whatever she used, its a lot better than what they serve in the mess halls. I will have to get my hands on some of these seasonings.” George laughed.

"Rank has it's privileges."

“Well at least you can have her tell me where she gets these seasonings so that I can get my own.”

"To be honest I've never asked Samantha where she gets her spices. but i will ask her the next time we talk."

"Thank you sir, I would appreciate it." I looked up around and noted the sword that was hanging by the door. "George is that sword the same old hunk of metal that you were using in Pyralis all those years ago?" George looked up at the old weapon.

"It is. I've grown rather fond of it."

"Would you like a new one, I can make you one of my own swords, at a cost of course."

"A new one? I wouldn't mind a new weapon. Something with a bit more power.” Since the only weapon that I possessed that George could take a look at was my short-sword, I withdrew it from its scabbard and handed it to him hilt first.

"This is an example of the work that I can do, I can even make a weapon specially customized for you though that would cost you a little more." George carefully takes the weapon and examines it closely.

"Very fine quality work Oberon. I never knew you did such fine work." He said before he turned the weapon around and handed it back to me. I took the weapon and carefully returned it to its scabbard.

“Well I can make one of these style swords for your if you want, though it will take me some time to get the materials together, the iron bars that I had for forging are pretty much all gone, so I have to find a good place to get myself a steady supply of the things. Other than that it shouldn’t be too difficult.”

"I'd prefer another cutlass. I've grown used to handling one. And I do have to live up to my name George the Cutlass."

"I can make most straight swords, though I don't really have a whole lot of experience making curved blades." George nodded.

"Do what your skill allows." he answers enigmatically. I stood up and asked George

"Can you please stand and hand me that piece of string over there. I need to get good measurements in order for this weapon to be perfectly balanced for you." George stands up.

"I want a sword not a suit of armor. Why the needed measurements?" I laughed for a moment before I replied

"If you want me to make a sword that is perfectly suited for you I will have to make certain measurements, length of your arm, and length of hand and fingers to name a few. Otherwise it would simply be a stock weapon and not one that is designed and forged for you alone."

“Fair enough," George says before holding his arms out so that I could measure him. "Measure me." I carefully used the piece of string that George had handed me to make all of the measurements and taking them down in a notepad that I kept in my belt pouch. When I was finished with the measurements I said

"It will take me roughly three to four weeks before your new sword will be ready, though it might take longer if I'm not able to get a hold of a reliable source of iron. Now about the price, by my reckoning this weapon will be around eighty-five garrets." George takes a small pouch of coins from off of his desk and hands them to the cat.

"Will these do?" I carefully counted out the coins before I nodded and placed them in my belt pouch

"I didn't expect to get through this without haggling. When I bought a clock from Misha during the Equinox Festival he haggled like an old fishwife." George chuckles.

"I'm too old to haggle and I have enough wealth so I don't have to."

"Oh there are times when I enjoy the odd haggle but there are times when I would rather just get down to business."

"I just prefer getting down to business." George explains. "I hate wasting time needlessly." I sat back down in the chair, which had probably already been abused too much, and it promptly collapsed under my weight. George peered over his desk at me where I was sitting on the floor amidst the broken chair parts. "That was a good chair Oberon."

"Evidently it just wasn't designed to take the weight of a 445 pound feline though was it?" George laughs.

"Few things are! Don't just sit there on the floor. Grab yourself another chair. I'll have that one replaced tomorrow."

"I think that you should make sure that the next chair you get is made for heavier people."

"I'll have the next one made of stone." he laughed. I chuckled at his comment as I pulled up another chair and put the pieces of the old one into the bin by the fireplace

"At least you don't have to worry about where to get your firewood for a few minutes."

"I burn coal in my fires Oberon. It lasts longer and has a lot less mess." the jackal explained.

"True, I have a different use for coal but it is just as important, speaking of which do you know where I could possibly find a supply of high quality anthracite coal?" George was quiet for a moment. "That must be imported from the south. But Misha I believe uses it for his metalworking. He will know where to get it."

"Great. Last I heard that fox was out on patrol."

"Why not ask Caroline? She might know. they are engaged to be married."

“I’m not sure, I’ve never met her yet and no one has been able to point her out to me either.” I answered with my trepidation clearly evident in my voice.

"Never met the otter?" he says. "After the trial I'll introduce you to her."

“I would appreciate it sir.” I said, though my tone still indicated a distinct lack of enthusiasm, even to me.

"Something wrong with meeting her? Caroline is a good friend."

"I don't know, its just that I've already run into enough people here and made enough of a fool of myself in front of them at one time or another. I mean look at Kent or Jonah they had to carry me to Glen Avery after I got hit by the lutin mage, I should've been able to smell him before he managed to attack me."

"Oberon the keep is packed full of people. You can't avoid them forever. You are trapped here at the Keep so get used to meeting people. And you were attacked by a mage. that was not your fault."

“None the less I still lost face in front of people who were relying on me to eliminate those kind of threats.” George shakes his head.

"These lutins have no honour. You'd best remember that. Never let your honour get in the way of saving your friends lives."

"I understand." I commented as I finished my last bowl of wine and stood up once more to stretch out and yawn, displaying my impressive set of teeth for the jackal to see in all of their brutal glory.

"My what big teeth you have Grandma," George jokes quoting an old fairy tale. I chuckled again once my mouth closed before I asked rhetorically

"Don't you just love having the features of a jackal?"

"YES! I have my own sharp teeth. And the jackals hearing and sense of smell is great! Even my sense of taste is increased."

"My own senses improved, though my sense of taste took a hit. The most improved are my ears, and my eyes, though my sense of smell is still much better than it was when I was a human. My body also came with a few features that aren't something that any human would be used to." To demonstrate that point I held up my right hand and extended all of my two inch long finger claws. "But are the advantages worth the permanent exile to this region?"

"Yes. unlike you I had a choice. I chose to come here and let the curse take me. I came here to spend the rest of my life and I've never regretted it." I slowly nodded my head and then told George that we should get back to the courtroom where the trial would be recommencing in a couple of minutes. George sighed. "Unfortunately we do need to get back to the trial."

The rest of the afternoon was spent in absolute boredom as the trial droned on. This trial was a lesson in boredom. There was actually one point where I dropped off, George was so pleasant as to nudge me in the ribs to wake me up. In fact the next few days followed that pattern until the morning of the fourth day of the trial

I awoke to a loud knocking on my door. I shook my head to clear the sleep from my senses before I got out of bed. When I opened the door I had nothing but my thick black and white fur on, not it bothered me at all my fur concealed everything that I would want to hide from public view. Standing on the other side of the door was on of the castle messengers.

“Sir I have been requested to inform you to go to the dungeons as soon as possible something has come up.”

“I understand” I told the messenger before I closed the door and quickly got dressed. Whatever this was about it was obviously very important and it probably had something to do with the trial that was taking place right now.

When I go down to the dungeons I heard a sound that was the sort which could rend a man’s heart, that is if he or she still had one, it was the sound of a child crying. A few moments later I was standing in front of one of the cells where the sounds were coming from. One of the guards looked up at me and then said

“It was bound to happen sooner or later.”

“What do you mean?”

“That fanatic knight Sir Guy DeHarancourt has come under the influence of the curse. This is his new form.” Inside the cell there was a small form curled up in a ball letting loose piteous cries that sounded nothing like the knight that I had seen for the past few days in the courtroom. After looking at the gray furred form in the corner for a few more minutes I gave the guards a signal and said

“If you don’t mind I’m going to go take a look at the prisoner, and no you don’t have to worry about him hurting me, I’m easily capable of defending myself.” The two guards looked at each before the first one opened the door and let me into the cell. I crouched down when I reached the small gray form and put my hand on its shoulder. He turned his face up to look at me and I was shocked at what I saw, it was a wildcat kitten morph. The only thing that I could see in his large golden slit pupil eyes was fear and a lack of understanding. He held up his arms in a childish gesture of pleading and I didn’t feel all that bad about abiding by his request. As I held him in my arms he asked me

“Why is this happening?” That really shook my confidence. When I looked into his eyes I couldn’t see any of the hatred or malice that had existed in his eyes previously. This really disturbed me, this was one thing that I didn’t expect, usually a criminal couldn’t get any sympathy but now I really wasn’t sure. I just hoped that this problem could be solved in a humane manner. This trial had just gotten a whole lot more complicated. Ten minutes later I got back to my room and knelt on the floor where I slowly sat down on the floor and began to pray to Savnator for guidance. I hope that she could give me the guidance that I needed now and in the future.

The next morning everyone assembled in the courtroom where the fate of the former knight Sir Guy DeHarancourt was to be decided. As I sat down beside George he looked into my eyes and asked me

"What are you thinking? You look pretty upset."

"I really don't know about this George, I find it hard to consider harming him now, especially after I saw him yesterday. There was no hate or malice left in him, at least there didn't appear to be any." George shrugged.

"The curse can do some really strange things to a person. He might be a total innocent child again." I looked at George carefully before I managed reply

“That is what I’m so concerned about, what if he is as innocent as any other child and not a mindless fanatic like he was before?”

"He might be faking it but I doubt it. it seems the curse has seen fit to give the fanatic a new chance at life."

“Who will care for him now if he survives this trial?” George scratched at his left ear before he finally answered

“Hmmm - I'm tempted to say Father Hough or perhaps a couple with no children?”

“Father Hough?”

"Father Hough is the local Follower priest here. A good and honest man. I'd trust him with my life."

"Follower, I've had some bad run ins with them. They don't seem to understand that I have my own faith and my own gods." George nods.

"I know but this priest is a fair and opened minded person."

“To tell you the truth I’ve even had some of those Lothanasi Priests chasing me around because of my faith.”

"The lightBringers and the Followers get along pretty well here. Each leaves the others alone and in peace."

“The question is will they leave me alone to my own faith and beliefs?”

"Yes they will. As long as you leave them alone."

“I certainly don’t intend to start a religious war if that is what you mean. All I want from them is the freedom to worship my gods without any interference from them.”

"As long as you keep the peace there will be no problems." I nodded and then turned and watched as the Duke ascended to his throne where he was about to read his verdict considering the case

"I hope that the child isn't punished too heavily." I commented to George. George shook his head.

"I doubt it. Thomas is a fair man." The duke looked down at his papers before he finally said

"I thought the decision on what to do with the criminal was mine but it seems the curse has made the choice for me. I cannot in good conscience have this young kitten killed." I signed in relief before I asked George

“So what do you think will happen to him?”

"I'll honor that request Father and remand the new kitten into your care." I smiled and then looked over at George before I said quietly

"Sung koshodra bai rtan hdran."

"What does that mean?" the canine asked me in confusion. I grinned slowly before I answered

"The helpless you will defend. Its an old Kelmar proverb that most warriors live by." George smiled and stood up before he said

“That’s something that everyone should live by.” Before he turned and left the room. I remained sitting there for a few moments before I headed for my quarters. I had a lot of things to do including going down to Euper to see if I could find myself a good supply of iron so that I could make the sword that I had sold to George. Before I took care of that though I had to give a prayer of thanks to Savnator for how she had guided the events of this day.

{{series bar
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The Joy of the Hunt

2017-07-12T12:33:30Z

Lem: correct autospell errors

[[Category:Story]] [[Category:Animal]]
{{DEFAULTSORT: Joy of the Hunt, The}}
[[Category:Metamor Keep]]
[[Category:Oberon]]
{{editing requested}}{{universe|Metamor Keep}}

By: [[User:Oberon|Oberon]]

When we finally returned from our patrol, three days late because of that thrice cursed lutin mage, I was getting antsy to repair my armour, my borrowed brigantine didn’t fit all that well across the chest and shoulders and it lacked the protection that my own armour had. As soon as I reached my own room I pulled off all of my heavy equipment, put on my normal clothes and sword belt before I grabbed my armour and headed into my forge room. I slowly pulled apart the thread seams on both sides of the chest piece and pulled it away to reveal that chain mail underneath. Before I did anything to the chain mail I unfastened the metal plate on the right hand side of the chest and looked at the hardened leather underneath. Both the plate and the underlying leather were both ruined, though they had done their job and saved my life. The chain mail wasn’t in much better shape, the small chain rings in an area about five centimeters around that had been over my heart were fused into a large lump of shapeless metal. I had to break close to one hundred of the tiny chain rings in order to get the misshapen lump of metal out of its place in the shirt. The soft leather underneath also had to have a section replaced, though the size of the hole in the under layer was small, roughly the same size as the hole that had been made in my chest. I rubbed the bandage that was still covering the small wound that remained. I had been lucky, the energy blast that had gotten through all of my armour hadn’t managed to penetrate very far, one of my thick ribs had blocked the remaining ergs of energy from hitting my heart. Not that didn’t hurt, and worse still my native healing ability was being very slow about dealing with this injury. That was the problem with magic, I didn’t have much in the way of defenses against it other than my armour. When I had reported to George he had told me, quite bluntly, that I was off duty until after the trial, or when my wound had healed. Well this was as good a time as any to repair my own armour and make those arrows that I had promised Drift I would make for Misha. Not that I minded doing anything for the fox, as far as I could tell he was a good person, not without his own charisma either, considering that people were quite willing to follow him. Drift was also a person I didn’t mind helping either, since we were in just about the same situation, meaning that we were both very well adapted to cold weather, but we suffered in doing what we liked in the summer because of our dignity and our fur. Luckily Misha had helped both of us adapt by giving us an object that was enchanted to keep us cool in even the worst heat imaginable. However I would have to leave the repairs to my armour, and the manufacturing of arrows to tomorrow, I was almost at the limit of my endurance. I placed the armour on the anvil and turned down the lamp and headed into bed where I could get a full night’s rest.

The sun was already streaming into my window when I finally managed to rouse myself, I had work to do today, but I had to keep my priorities straight, I needed to eat. I grabbed my light belt, though I made the point of taking my broadsword off of the belt and replacing it with the Claw of the Dragon. Now that I could carry it without any discomfort I wanted to keep it with me at all times. It had some rather gruesome things that it did to those who weren’t members of my own family who tried to wield it. Once it and my shortsword, three throwing knives, and dagger were properly attached to my belt I threw on my cloak and headed for my favorite mess facility.

After I finished breakfast I went back to my place where I had stored several barrels that contained all of the things that I needed to make the arrows that Misha needed, so I got down to work with a few quick movements.

Five and a half hours later I put down the final shaft, fletched and nocked before I headed to the mess hall again to pick up some food before I carried on with the forging of the arrowheads themselves. That would be a long and labour intensive proposition, though I was looking forward to it for some reason.

I’m not sure how much later it was but when I placed the final finished arrowhead into the tub of water that I was tempering them in I was beginning to feel a little tired. I slowly turned the spigot of the trough to the drain and watched as the water flowed away to reveal two hundred and fifty finished arrowheads, they still had to be sharpened and attached to the arrows, but that could come tomorrow when I wasn’t tired. I had just turned out he lamp and banked the fires in the forge when there was a knock on the door I answered it to see a bemused and exhasperated fox standing there

“Oberon do you have any idea what time it is right now?” I shook my head and rubbed my eyes before I replied

“No I’m afraid I don’t Misha, I just finished the arrowheads though they still need to be attached to the shafts and sharpened.” He gave a sigh and rolled his eyes in a manner that was almost a prayer to his god to help him before he pointed out

“Oberon it is four thirty in the damn morning. Have you been working on this project all night? Isn’t that what you bought my clock for, to tell you what time it is?” I shook my head in chagrin before I remembered something that one of my own Blademaster’s had taught me when I was a mere Apprentice Bladesman. ‘A true Blademaster heeds no outside influence, even that of time when he’s working, only when he is finished his work will he sleep.’ I looked at Misha for a moment more before I slowly told him about the saying and the truth that was implied in it. He had no recourse except to shake his head in bemusement as I also told him that now that I wasn’t working I wanted to get some sleep. With that said I politely bade him good morning before I closed the door, turned down the lamp, got out of my clothing and went to bed.

I woke up much later, from the light coming in through the drape covered window it was early afternoon. I checked my clock to see that it had just chimed the hour, one-o-clock in the afternoon. I felt refreshed from the sleep and stretched before I got dressed to go down and take care of a couple of things that I had put off for a couple of hours. I needed to eat something and I needed to stop by Coe’s Infirmary to have him look at the wound in my chest. When Coe saw the wound he shook his head, and said

“Mr. Naharel you seem to come to me on a regular basis.”

“It all comes with the job Mr. Coe, a warrior tends to accumulate injuries throughout his or her career. If a warrior didn’t get injured in the conduct of his trade then he or she isn’t much of a warrior.” He shook his head

“I guess that it means that I’m going to end up patching you back together every time you get injured.”

“I’ll do my best not to get injured Mr. Coe but as I pointed out I will be here from time to time for you to put me back together again.” he shook his head again as he checked the bandage on my chest, then in a professional tone of voice he said

“This wound appears to be healing nicely, you should be able to practice again today or tomorrow, though you will have to take it easy for a little while, no extensive drills with weapons.” I nodded my head in understanding. I knew what a doctor meant by those words, I had to take it easy for the next few days, but that didn’t mean that I couldn’t do any drills, I just had to make sure that I didn’t work out too much or I would risk hurting myself. Once he finished examining me and sent me home, I got back home and went out right away to the practice field with only the weapons I was carrying. Just as I was about to reach the field I ran into Misha, the leader of the Long Scouts. He looked at me and shook his head before he noticed the Claw of the Dragon sheathed at my side, its heart shaped ruby glowed with its own inner light. After a moment he pointed to the sword and said

"I've never seen a blade like that one before."

"I don't think that very many people in this part of the world have seen this blade. It is a weapon from my homeland, it's an heirloom of my family. It has been passed down from father to son for the past three thousand years."

"Impressive. My own axe is over 2000 years old but not as grandly decorated."

"Oh this," I indicated the ruby ", it's just the repository of the soul of this weapon. Other than that this weapon is like all of the other weapons that my people make, utilitarian and purposeful."

"Whisper has no decorations at all on it. Not even a craftsmans marking. She is pure black."

"Sounds like my kind of weapon, simple and to the point." Misha gave a yip of laughter. "She is many things but not simple. Few people understand just how powerful she really is."

"Sorry I should've put it another way, considering the fact that this sword,” I indicated my long-sword “,is probably similar in many ways, he has great power." Misha nodded.

"I can understand that. May I hold it?" he asks. I shook my head vehemently before I replied

"He won't let anyone who isn't a direct descendant of his creator wield him, or even hold him. Though I can show him to you." I carefully pulled the shimmering mithral blade out of its scabbard and held it so that the fox could see it.

"I understand. She can be vey picky about who touches her. And she has a nasty way of dealing with those she doesn't like." He bends forward to get a closer look at the blade.

"This sword has a rather permanent way of dealing with those that it doesn't like."

“Oh? What method is that?" the fox asks being sure to keep his distance.

"Well anyone who touches him that isn’t a member of my immediate family usually ends up getting cooked from the inside, it isn't a pretty thing to see Sir."

"Nasty but effective. SHE tends to drink the very life from a person in a most public and terrifying way."

"That is an interesting way to kill someone, also very effective. When I'm wielding him in a fight though he just tends to go through just about anything that I swing him at. I once used him to chop down a tree that was three feet around in one swing." Misha shivered.

"I've only seen her do it twice. It's something you never forget. No matter how hard you try."

“That's for sure. I was going down to the practice field, Coe told me that I should take it easy today." I opened my vest to reveal the bandage that I was still wearing on my chest to cover the small wound that still remained from when the mage had hit me with his spell.

“How are you doing? I heard you were hit by a spell that would have killed a smaller person." the fox asked.

"My armour took most of the spell, I have to remake it as soon as I get a chance. The left chestplate, the hardened leather which the plate was mounted on, the chain mail underneath, and the soft leather undershirt were all damaged. When I first got hit I was knocked out, I guess I came to roughly seven hours later in Glen Avery."

"Armour can be replaced. A person can't. Everyone thought you'd die. Few people can survive that powerful a spell."

"Well made armour can help you survive in a situation when you would otherwise be dead. I'm glad that my armour did its job this time."

"Me too my friend," he said and gingerly touched the bandage on my chest. "But be careful from now on. First rule of a Long Scout - Kill the mages first."

"This one was hiding in the bushes while Lieutenant Jonah and I were eliminating his archers. If I had seen him earlier I would've been all to happy to kill him."

"Ah. I see. It'd always the unseen threat that's the worst."

"That it is, that it is. What're you doing down here right now? I don't see your bow, or your axe for that matter.”

"I was just going to do a little exercise in my full fox form." Misha explained.

"What's that like? I only got once chance to try out my full form and that was when I was infiltrating that lutin camp more than a month ago, though that was some fun."

"You've never tried your full animal form? It's truly liberating. There is a freedom I can't explain."

"I tried it once, I just told you, when I was infiltrating that lutin camp the night before you found me in that box canyon surrounded by lutins." Misha shook his head.

"That was under stress. You need to try it when there aren't people trying to kill you. Like right now." I shrugged my shoulders and undid the rest of the vest, my belt and my kilt before I stood in front of him completely naked, not that there was anything to hide, my fur already took care of that for me. I closed my eyes an let the calm take me before I willed the shift. Before I shifted too much I said

"I hope this as good as you say it is." Misha stepped backward a few paces as I completed the change.

"Wow! You are impressive and scary. You are one huge cat!" I looked at him and set both of my hind paws behind me before I leaped over the startled fox in a single bound. He cringed instinctively.

"That’s amazing I've never seen anyone jump that high!" The tip of my tail waved in the air happily before I turned and gave him a look that said come and get me, before I headed towards the town, that was being rebuilt, in the outer ward. Behind me I heard the fox say

"OH! You want to race do you!" I reached the outer ward and jumped onto the nearest roof, which gave me the advantage, since I knew that he couldn't jump like that. I followed the rooftops until I could jump over to the top of the curtain wall. I actually had to wait until I found place where I could have healthy landing before I jumped off of the wall. From there I made my way through Euper, again using the rooftops to my advantage before I headed out into the fields where the Equinox Festival had taken place. This wasn’t where I wanted to be, an open field with the fox behind me. In the wild the fox would be the one watching his tail because of my form, but here we were just playing a game, one that I intended to win. At the base of the hill was the river, it had yet to get the full effect of the spring flood and thus was fairly low, I jumped as far as I could to get across it but I only managed to get about three quarters of the way. That was no real problem, I was a strong swimmer, I had known how to swim since I was a little boy, here though I was using my full animal body and the swimming ability that came naturally to a snow tiger. Once I was across the river I headed for the trees of the forest where I knew I could find a good place to hide, or make my trail as confusing as possible. I would soon need a place to hide since my form had limited endurance. With my great strength also came the weakness of low endurance. Right now I was moving though the trees at a reasonable rate, one that I could maintain for quite some time, but earlier I had used a great deal of strength to get out of Metamor and Euper. Then I found myself a perfect hiding place, a stand of white birch trees, which perfectly matched my own colouration. Within moments I was laying on the ground beside one of the trees using the dappled pattern that it threw on the ground to further hide my presence. As I sat there regaining my breath and my strength I thought ‘Try and find me now fox.’ Some time later I noticed Misha come walking through the bushes, though I could tell from the way he looked that he couldn’t see where I was. This was amusing but I knew that he would eventually would get close enough to spot me. I had to remain perfectly still, to avoid detection, though my traitorous tail seemed like it wanted to remain in motion. After some effort I was able to quiet that part of my body. I watched as the small fox walked around the grove sniffing the air trying to pick up my scent.

"I know you're around here kitty cat." His posture almost shouted. As he got closer to me I bunched up my hindquarters and waited until he was within range, then I pounced, rolling the fox over with one paw and pinning him gently with the other. He shifted his form almost instantly and shouted

"Dammit you really scared me! You know that you overgrown pussy cat." I climbed off of him and shifted my own form before I replied

"Sorry, but the ambush is something that comes naturally to me."

"So I see. I think it's more the warrior then the tiger." Misha comments. "You are very good at stealthy hunting."

“I've learned a lot over the past thirty years, and a lot more back when I still lived with my own people."

"I see. I think you'll make a fine scout here at the Keep."

"George has said as much, though he said that he intends to test me to see just how capable I really am."

"I know he will. And I'll be watching closely too. Perhaps I can use you too." he said cryptically, though I had an inkling of what he meant.

"That would be interesting, lots of enemies, good fighting comrades, and a real ability to make an impact, my style of fighting."

"I can't tell you more just how dangerous it would be. The missions will be mostly deep into the Giantdowns."

"Sounds fun."

"I'm serious Oberon. Where we go there are no allies and lots of dangers. But I think you'll do good."

"Well we should give it a try some time."

"Soon enough. But before then I have to be sure of just how good you are. I need to be sure."

"Ok I'll make sure that I do my best out there."

"That's all I can ask. Do your best. I'm sure you'll do good. But George and me WILL run you ragged."

"Running me ragged will take a bit of doing. By the way don't you think that we should be getting back to the keep, my clothes are still lying on the ground in the practice field." Misha chuckled.

"I thought you enjoyed walking around in public stark naked."

"Not really, the only time I will do it is when I am in my full form, what about you? You aren't exactly wearing anything right now."

"True but I'm used to it and I came out to exercise this way remember. But let's get back and recover our clothes." I nodded and then quickly shifted back to my larger animal form. "Mind if catch a ride?" The fox asked before he shifted. When Misha shifted I noted the fact that he wasn't much higher up on me than my elbow on my foreleg he glanced up at me and then leapt onto the my broad back. It felt a little unusual to be ridden like that but I could quite easily tolerate it because after all he really wasn't all that much of a burden. When I reached the bank of the river I looked up at the fox sitting on my back and let my eyes tell him that he would have to swim the river just like I would have to. Misha hopped off and took his morph form before he said

“AK! You mean this ride doesn't come with a ferry? Well in that case I want to be a lot larger for swimming this river." My tail-tip twitched in a silent laugh as I bunched up my hindquarters and leaped as far as I could, reaching about three quarters of the way across before I contented myself with swimming the rest of the distance. That water was COLD, I felt it even through my thick fur, though I really didn’t bother me all that much. When I reached the other bank I turned around and watched as Misha hesitated for a moment before he slowly slipped into the ice cold water. "That's COLD!" he shouted as he begins to swim the river. I shook the excess water from my fur and watched as the morphic Misha swam across the river, He was shivering by the time he climbed out of the water. Misha shook himself dry. Then he reverted to his smaller animal form and nimbly leapt onto my back once more. Once the fox had regained his position on my back, between my shoulder blades, I made my way towards the keep at a leisurely pace. When I reached the town gate of Euper though the two guards actually barred our way. The fox reluctantly hoped off of my back and shifted back to his larger two legged form before he asked in an innocent tone. "Why are you standing in our way?" When Misha asked that question the two guard’s eyes almost bulged out of their heads and they fell over each other trying to offer more an more elaborate apologies. By the time we finally got through the gate the tip of my tail was almost invisible in my silent laughter. "That was fun," Misha commented as he walked forward, staying even with my shoulder in his morohic form. Then he noticed my tail-tip which was still waving with my silent laughter before he said "Your tail is imitating the pendulum on one of my clocks." That only made me laugh in a more exaggerated manner, this fox was trying to make me laugh. "And now it's moving even faster! You sure that tail of yours doesn't have a mind of it's own?" As soon as we reached the inner ward I shifted form and held my aching ribs as I roared with laughter. "I like you Oberon. You have a great sense of humor." Between guffaws I managed to say

"You were trying to make me laugh since the river, by the way are you still a little cold?"

"I've dried off and I'm not so cold anymore but lets collect out clothes and get back inside. I nodded my head and went over to where Misha had, in a move of consideration, placed my clothes in a neat bundle on a bench. I pulled on my kilt, grabbed my belt and belted it about my waist, and finally put on my leather vest and cloak last of all. By this time I was managing to get control of my laughter.

"You were having fun there weren't you?" He chuckled before he replied

"Oh yes! I love rattling people once in a while. Keeps them on their toes. and it gives me some laughs."

"Did you expect me to laugh like that back there?"

"I wanted to see what type of sense of humor you have. I like a person who is willing to laugh."

"I don't mind a good laugh, even though I don't find something that causes one very often. Well maybe I should finish attaching all of those heads to those arrows that I made yesterday."

"A good sense of humor keeps a person healthy. oh and I need them as soon as you can make them," Misha replied.

"Very well than I must get going, since those arrowheads won't attach themselves to the shafts by themselves."

"Good. You make them and we'll make sure they get used to kill lots of lutins." He commented.

"Certainly sir, these will be among the best arrows that you could probably get." with that said I turned and headed for my room. The afternoon had been highly enjoyable, and highly educational as well. I had managed to learn a little about myself, and the Misha the fox. However, now I had to go back and finish the arrows that I had promised to make. On my way back to my room I passed Snow’s Tinsmithy to see a new sign hanging from hooks higher up in the wall, if fact it was high enough for me not to bang my skull on it. The next time I ran into Drift I would have to thank him for that small courtesy. When I reached my own apartments I took off my cloak and hung it on one of the hooks by the door before I went into the forge room and began finishing arrows, attaching the heads and sharpening them to a razor-sharp point. Hopefully George and Misha would appreciate this small favour, since it was still going to take some time to take care of. Once I finished the arrows then I had the matter of repairing my armour. I didn’t want to go out on patrol without armour that I knew that I could rely on. Well for now though I had to work on the arrows, ‘what fun.’

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Visitors in the Night

2017-07-12T04:15:38Z

Lem: correct autospell errors

[[Category:Story]] [[Category:Animal]]
{{DEFAULTSORT: Visitors in the Night}}
[[Category:Metamor Keep]]
[[Category:Oberon]]
{{editing requested}}{{universe|Metamor Keep}}

By: [[User:Oberon|Oberon]]

My alarm jangled at me from its place over on my desk and I crawled out of bed swearing at the unfairness of the world as I went to shut off the noise. There were times that it didn’t pay to wake up in the morning, and this was one of them. Once my alarm was shut of I began getting ready for my patrol today. Yesterday Barbara, the incompetent leader of my patrol squad, had tried to get me busted out of her unit for a number of reasons. I had been transferred out of her unit, though not in the manner that she desired and reassigned to a new unit. I was actually going to be meeting them today, and so was Daniel, the greyhound morph who was becoming my young protege. As I put on my swordbelt I thought of a weapon that I owned but hadn’t used in more than a decade. Finally I opened my travel-chest and pulled out a plain looking sword in a battered leather scabbard. This was the hereditary sword of the Sundering Stone Clan from my homeland, and one of the ten treasures of the Kelmar Clanlands. It was called the Dragon’s Talon and it was beautifully balanced hand & half long sword similar in fact to the sword that I had made for myself when I had changed into my current form. I don’t know why the smiths and magicians who had made it like this but now it was perfectly suited for me. I held the scabbard in one hand and slowly withdrew the blade with the other. It was a light blade of silvery white metal that glimmered in the light of the lamp that I had lit so that I could see what I was doing with more detail that was possible with just my natural night vision. In my head I heard the first traces of the sword’s song. The song was the reason that I didn’t often like to use the weapon, though for some reason that song was different than I remember. ‘Akon veralatkis wruktan praktros xraxsus jkutia.’ the weapon sang to me softly in Old Kelmar. For some reason this time the song was appropriate to my desires so I continued to hold it unsheathed for a moment before I sheathed the weapon and put it on my heavy belt which I was holding in my hand. I considered the weapons on my double baldric before I took of the double sabre and replaced it with a single edged sword and my quiver, which was full of three and a half foot long arrows for my monster bow. I grabbed my heavy scout pack, though I had yet to pick up the field rations and checked that I had everything else that I needed. A spare sheaf of twenty arrows, a basic field medicine kit, my tent, my bedroll, my tinderbox, a clothing repair kit, three spare strings for my bow, and assorted other odds and ends that would allow me to do my job as a scout properly. Once I had everything I picked up the my bow and slung it on my body before I headed out the door. For the first time in a month I didn’t have to pass Snow’s Tinsmithy on my way to my normal mess facility.

Half an hour later I arrived in the inner ward where a small group of four other people were gathered, I was still munching on the last of my breakfast. I had managed to pick up almost twice as many of the field rations as anyone else. I had also asked that the next time I came down I they would have special double rations made for me so that I wouldn’t starve out in the field. When I reached the Inner ward I found the group that I was to join. They were standing in an organized group under the command of a tall fair haired man, who I guessed probably had started off his life as a woman. None the less he showed every sign of being comfortable, cool, and most importantly competent under the current circumstances. Once I was sure of my personal assessment I went to join the group, that was obviously waiting for someone. The leader of the group turned to face me as soon as I came in the inner ward and held out his hand

“I’m Jonah Harkort and I presume that you must be Oberon. George has told me that you would be joining my unit today.” I shook the proffered hand before I confirmed my name and confirmed the fact that I was here to join his unit. “Well that means that we’re only missing one of new additions. I sure hope that you can survive out there. Recently lutin activity has been increasing for some unknown reason.”

“Trust me I can hold my own on battlefield.”

“You sound confident.”

“I should be considering the amount of experience I have in warfare.”

“Are you meaning to tell me that what George told me about you is true?”

“That is what I’m telling you.”

“Well then you will make an excellent addition to the squad. The person who you’re replacing is currently laid up after he was hit by a lutin arrow on our last patrol.”

“It would take more than one arrow to knock me out of a fight.”

“We’ll see how everything goes when the time comes. By the way there’s supposed to be someone else coming with you.”

“Yes there is. He should be here shortly. He’s a little young but I can tell you right now all he needs is some practice.” Jonah nodded slowly before I noticed Daniel coming towards us with a smile on his narrow canine face. I waved to him and I noticed the smile broaden as he jogged the remaining distance to greet the lieutenant in charge of the squad. Once all the greetings had been taken care Jonah shouted out

“Lets get moving people we have a long way to go, we’re burning up daylight here.” I nodded and took my longbow into my left hand and fell into the rear of the group as we made our way out of the keep and down through the outer ward and eventually the town of Euper. Once we left the town behind we turned north and headed for the Giant’s Dike, a place that I had already visited once on my own personal scouting mission when I first arrived at the Keep just over a month ago. Now though I was going there on a sanctioned scouting mission with a squad of others to back me up in case I ran into an enemy.

As we walked north I did my own evaluation of the squad’s personal. As far as I could tell Jonah was exactly what George had told me he was, an excellent soldier with a good eye for the terrain around him and his people. Trent Longfellow wasn’t so much long as he was big, the guy probably weighed close to six hundred pounds, not really ideal for a scout, but it was to be expected considering what animal he took his form from, a flatlands bison. On the opposite end of the scale there was Olivia Janson, her form was that of a stoat, a kind of weasel. That meant that she was thin and wiry, perfect for an spellcaster like herself. She told me on one of our marching breaks that she enjoyed her new form, before she arrived at the keep she had been a stout woman of ample proportions, now though she couldn’t get fat if her life depended on it. The final member of the squad that I had joined was Herbert Johanssun, he was the smallest member of the squad, even when he was as large as he could get. He told though that he was the perfect size to tackle the lutins because at just over four feet tall he could meet them at their own height, where I towered over lutins like a building in Euper. Each person used whatever weapon they felt best with. Trent was carrying a pair of large chain flail maces with spiked metal heads, his back up weapon was great-sword that he wore on his back. Jonah carried a simple single handed broadsword and a shield, though he did possess a couple of throwing knives. Herbert and Olivia were both relatively lightly armed, though they both carried a short sword at their sides. Finally there was myself and Daniel, He carried his bow and a side-sword, since it matched his style of fighting. I of course, was the walking arsenal of the group with more weapons than you could shake a stick at.

That evening when we stopped for the night to make camp Jonah pointed where everyone was going to sleep, and the watch rotation for the night. Since we were able to light a fire this evening, most of all talk about our previous experiences in warfare. When I talked about a battle that had taken place more than twenty years ago the whole squad knelt closer to me to hear the story. That particular story was actually pretty mild since most of the unit that I had been attached to had managed to survive the engagement. When I finished the story Trent went out to the watch position while I crawled into my tent to get a few hour of sleep before I had to take the watch, Olivia and I were probably the ones best suited for the late night and early morning watches because of our exceptional night vision.

Some time later, I wasn’t exactly sure how long though, I awoke with Trent shaking my shoulder

“You’re turn to take the watch Oberon.” I nodded slowly and then told him to give me a few minutes. I quickly got dressed and equipped, though I left my bow and quiver behind since they were less than useless out here in the middle of the night. Instead I had my six throwing knives, The Dragon’s Claw, my single handed broadsword, my long dagger, and two stilettos. Once I was finished getting all of my things together I threw on my grey cloak and headed out into the night. For me low light of the night wasn’t a problem because of my feline eyes gave me superior night vision. When I reached where Trent was back waiting for me he grinned slightly before he said

“Glad to see you here Oberon. I can’t see a blasted thing, its darker than the insides of the Lieutenant’s boots out here.”

“Well I can see just fine.”

“Damn all you cats.” He responded with a laugh as he stood up, grabbed his shuttered lantern, and headed back to camp.

A little more than an hour later I smelled something vaguely familiar, though the odour was very faint. In order to get a better read on the odour I curled up my lip and let the odour pass over a sensory organ in my mouth. An instant later I reached down and slowly, with much care I quietly drew my broadsword. The odour that I had detected was that of a rare drug from my homeland, Narrelat was a drug that was used by the Racteganect, they were assassins that specialized in attacking in shadow of night. I kept my ears open and waited until I heard a small twig behind me crack, with a move as quick as death itself I whirled with my sword in hand. The move removed the head of the lead assassin and warded of the second. I reached over my shoulder and grabbed the head of the second man with my claws extended and jerked until a loud grinding crunch sound came to my ears. At the same time I thrust out with the sword catching the man that I had warded off just under the chin with the tip of the blade. The last assassin the unit I had to grab with my left hand. I jerked his head down and used my huge teeth to remove his entire throat. The whole series of events took less than a minute and I was left standing with blood on my face, neck-ruff, chest, and claws. I had to spend most of the rest of my watch cleaning myself up and concealing the bodies of the assassins. I did manage to find a small sheaf of papers on the body of the second man that I had killed. I would have to wait for later to read it though, because even though my night vision was good it wasn’t that good. By the time I went to fetch Olivia I had managed to conceal all signs that there had been a fight here. I didn’t want the others to know that they had to worry about more than just the lutins.

The next day was pretty much the last though I did find some signs that there were enemies in the area. However, we didn’t run into anything of note until the third day, I was on the point when I held up my my hand to give the signal that we should all stop and get down. I carefully slid and arrow out of my quiver with my right hand and nocked it, while I concentrated on the information that my senses were giving me, then the wind shifted and I quite easily smell the funk of lutins up ahead. I half stood, to get clearance for my bow and drew and released in a single motion. In the trees beyond what I could see I heard a scream, followed by a hailstorm of lutin arrows. I crouched behind the bole of a large tree, though it probably wasn’t large enough. I felt a sudden spike of white hot pain in my left thigh and glanced down to see a black fletched arrow sticking into my leg. I grimaced in pain at the arrow and yanked at the shaft, removing it in a single motion. The pain that followed was somewhat different, but it was something that I had felt many times before. I looked down at my leg again and noticed the fact that the white and black fur was stained crimson with my own blood. I dropped my pack, pulled out a field dressing and slapped it onto the wound before I drew my long-sword and stood up once more and glanced over at Jonah, who was also hiding behind a tree. Both Herbert and Olivia were both hiding under the heavily armoured form of Trent, he was covering them with his massive form. There were at least a dozen arrows protruding form his armour, though it didn’t appear that any of them had actually managed to penetrate his armour. Daniel was also hiding behind a tree, though every so often he would jump from behind his hiding place and unleash an arrow of his own at our unseen attackers. Jonah looked at me and then gave me a silent signal that we had to attack our enemies in order to get them to stop shooting arrows at the rest of the squad. I dashed forwards with Jonah beside me, as I ran I had to use Claw to deflect more than a dozen arrows before we entered a small clearing from which the lutins were shooting arrows. I dashed towards the nearest archers and began hewing at them with the Claw. There was no finesse in this fight, instead it was a simple matter of brute force and wide sweeping blows, I had just cleared out the last of the archers and was going to go join Jonah when the Claw shouted in my mind ‘Behind you!’ I whirled, taking my left hand off of the Claw, drawing my broadsword and sweeping it through the skull of another lutin that was trying to sneak up behind me while I sliced through the upraised blades of the two who had been trying to get behind me before the Claw had given me the warning about them. With their weapons taken care of I quickly disposed of them and turned back to go help Jonah, and that was when a lutin mage made its presence known. A blast of pure energy struck me and flung me back into a the bole of a very thick very sturdy tree and I knew no more.

Some time later, I’m not exactly sure how long though, I awoke to find myself looking up at the ceiling of some place.

“How are you feeling Oberon?” I heard a voice ask me. I turned my head and looked to the side to see Jonah standing there with a pair of smaller figures one who I recognized as Sir Saulius the Knight.

“Art thou well Adòn?” I tried to sit up, only to have a searing pain lance through my chest from just over my heart. I fell back with a grunt, I managed to hiss out a rather strong oath in Kelmarhastarat

“Du sung chu’tang roc sung krachendra ko sung tachoda gtrik.” Sir Saulius, who I was able to recognize, cast a inquiring glance at the other rat, who I didn’t know, but the second rat, this one of brown fur and wearing a set of chain mail, shrugged his shoulders. I looked closely at the second rat and realized that this was someone that I had never seen before, though from the way that he stood I could tell that he was a very dangerous person. This was someone to be treated with a great deal of respect. At that point Sir Saulius repeated himself by asking me once again,

"Art thee well?"

"I've had better days Sir Saulius." I managed to say without causing too much more pain. The knight gestured to the other rat.

"My squire, Charles, was wondering if thou wert well enough to answer a few questions about what thee saw. Canst thee do so, or shouldst we return another time?"

"I should be able to answer a few questions. I haven't lived as long as I have without having to accrue my fair share of injuries like this in battle." I grunted, this was taking more out of me than I expected for a simple hit in the ribs. The second rat, the one named Charles, stepped forward, paws clasped behind his back.

"Thank you, Adon. Tell me, how many Lutins were there in the force you ran across?"

"I think there were roughly thirty to forty of them, as well as at least one mage, I hate mages! We managed to take out most of their archers and I don't know how many more Jonah and rest of the unit managed to kill, but my own score was around eight." Charles grimaced and his tail flicked form side to side.

"How many were left when you were struck? Do you recall?"

“I’m afraid I don’t know, though I suspect that there were still at least twenty, if not more, still remaining.”

"I see. And where were they headed? Had they made camp, or were they moving through the area?"

“That I can tell you, as far as I could tell this unit had set themselves up in the area to ambush us, I was lucky to pick up their odour before they attacked. Therefore I would suspect that they have established themselves in the area and are trying to strike out at any force that comes into their area of operations.” Charles nodded thoughtfully, and exchanged a glance with Jonah and Sir Saulius. The knight had nothing to say, and Jonah was still in a bit of a shock. The rat returned his attention to Adon.

"You say they were there to ambush you. Were they there long? How well provisioned were they?"

"I couldn't really tell I was kind of busy, but from what I was able to tell, from the way that they were positioned I would estimate that they had chosen their position roughly an hour or two before we got there.”

"Thank you. And one last question. Can you describe where it was you found them?"

“It was in a clearing just above a narrow draw where the trail was located, the bush in that area is relatively dense so it will be difficult to sneak around in terrain like that, though there is a chance that you might be able to get through there without being spotted.” I answered and then sunk my head back into the pillow I muttered once more “I hate mages.” Charles laughed in an understanding manner.

"Rest Adon. We will deal with them now. Thank you for your help." Charles turns to leave. Sir Saulius smiled at me and then lowered his head.

"Rest well, warrior." He then too departed leaving Jonah alone with me. Jonah looked down at me and shook his head

“You should be dead after what hit you back there.”

“What do you mean sir?” Jonah rolled his eyes before he pointed out

“Oberon you were hit with a Red Lightening Spell, that should’ve killed you.” I looked around for my armour and sword without raising my head from the pillow before I spotted both.

“Jonah would you be so good as to hand me my sword?” He nodded and picked up the sheathed weapon and handed it to me. I looked at the weapon and even drew it an inch out of its scabbard to confirm that it was the Dragon’s Claw. As soon as I felt the song of the sword I asked Jonah,

“How in the world did you manage to get my sword back into its scabbard without touching it?”

“You’ll have to ask Olivia she was the one who took care of that.” I started to chuckle but a shot of pain ran through my chest radiated from my ribs over my heart

“Oberon you have to take it easy for the next few days, that shot of magic really took it out of you.” I nodded slowly before I slumped back into the pillow and let my fatigue take me away.

It was more than a day later when I finally managed to wake up. This time Olivia and Daniel were both in my room sitting in chairs looking at me with concern on their faces. I sat up, and this time it didn’t hurt as much as it had when I had first woken up the day before. Daniel was the first to speak

“Oberon are you ok? I had heard that you had been more gravely wounded than we first believed.”

“Relax kid I’m a lot tougher than they think, I’ve been through a lot worse and come out of it ok so this is really nothing more than a scratch on my battered old hide.” Olivia shook her head before she rolled her eyes and sighed

“Men! You will never admit that something is serious even if you had both of your legs chopped off at the knees.” I chuckled slightly at her comment, but that caused my chest to spasm so I had to lie back to get my breath back once more.

“Olivia I was meaning to ask you something.”

“Go ahead Oberon.”

“How did you manage to get my sword back into its scabbard without touching it?” She shook her head for a second

“It was a real pain in the tail. I had to use a stick to hold the tip up so that I could slip the tip of the weapon into the scabbard. Where did you manage to get your hands on a mithral rune sword Oberon?”

“That weapon is three thousand years old, its an heirloom of my family that has been passed down from father to son for hundreds of generations.” I could see from her face that she was considering that information before she replied with the question.

“Your people have had access to mithral for that length of time?”

“Yes when the sword was created we had just recently discovered mithral, not only the ore but also how to purify and forge it into usable items, most notably weapons and armour.” Olivia nodded before Daniel said

“Please Oberon you have to take better care of yourself, you aren’t immortal.” I laughed softly at his demand before I managed to reply

“I may not be immortal Daniel but I’m a proficient warrior who understands that there are some risks to our profession.” The greyhound morph shook his head before he asked Olivia if she wanted anything, he was going out to collect something to eat. “Daniel can you pick up a little something for me as well?”

“Sure thing Oberon.” He shouted back as he left the room leaving me alone with Olivia. She shook her head before she asked me

“Where in the keep did you find that kid?” I chuckled once more

“He is a bit of an enthusiast isn’t he?”

“You could say that.”

“I ran into him when I was assigned to a different unit of scouts, they were nowhere near as good as you people.”

“Then why did you bring him with you into our unit?”

“He actually showed some promise, something that the rest of the members of that unit were all lacking. His only problem is the fact that he doesn’t have a whole lot of training, but that is something that I’ve been taking care of ever since I joined his unit.” Olivia nodded slowly and sat back in her chair and looked up at the ceiling while waiting for Daniel to get back with the food.

Two days later we embarked on a carriage back to Metamor Keep while the scouts from Glen Avery were still out dealing with the lutins that we had located for them. As I climbed into the carriage, the woman who had been responsible for my treatment in the village told me

“As soon as you reach the Keep I would like you to pay a visit to Brian Coe so that you can have those wounds of yours looked at.” I assured her that I would before the vehicle moved out of the town and towards the Keep. I just hoped that this injury wouldn’t have me being laid up for too long.

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Visitors in the Night

2017-07-11T19:20:01Z

Lem: correct autospell errors

[[Category:Story]] [[Category:Animal]]
{{DEFAULTSORT: Visitors in the Night}}
[[Category:Metamor Keep]]
[[Category:Oberon]]
{{editing requested}}{{universe|Metamor Keep}}

By: [[User:Oberon|Oberon]]

My alarm jangled at me from its place over on my desk and I crawled out of bed swearing at the unfairness of the world as I went to shut off the noise. There were times that it didn’t pay to wake up in the morning, and this was one of them. Once my alarm was shut of I began getting ready for my patrol today. Yesterday Barbara, the incompetent leader of my patrol squad, had tried to get me busted out of her unit for a number of reasons. I had been transferred out of her unit, though not in the manner that she desired and reassigned to a new unit. I was actually going to be meeting them today, and so was Daniel, the greyhound morph who was becoming my young protege. As I put on my swordbelt I thought of a weapon that I owned but hadn’t used in more than a decade. Finally I opened my travel-chest and pulled out a plain looking sword in a battered leather scabbard. This was the hereditary sword of the Sundering Stone Clan from my homeland, and one of the ten treasures of the Kelmar Clanlands. It was called the Dragon’s Talon and it was beautifully balanced hand & half long sword similar in fact to the sword that I had made for myself when I had changed into my current form. I don’t know why the smiths and magicians who had made it like this but now it was perfectly suited for me. I held the scabbard in one hand and slowly withdrew the blade with the other. It was a light blade of silvery white metal that glimmered in the light of the lamp that I had lit so that I could see what I was doing with more detail that was possible with just my natural night vision. In my head I heard the first traces of the sword’s song. The song was the reason that I didn’t often like to use the weapon, though for some reason that song was different than I remember. ‘Akon veralatkis wruktan praktros xraxsus jkutia.’ the weapon sang to me softly in Old Kelmar. For some reason this time the song was appropriate to my desires so I continued to hold it unsheathed for a moment before I sheathed the weapon and put it on my heavy belt which I was holding in my hand. I considered the weapons on my double baldric before I took of the double sabre and replaced it with a single edged sword and my quiver, which was full of three and a half foot long arrows for my monster bow. I grabbed my heavy scout pack, though I had yet to pick up the field rations and checked that I had everything else that I needed. A spare sheaf of twenty arrows, a basic field medicine kit, my tent, my bedroll, my tinderbox, a clothing repair kit, three spare strings for my bow, and assorted other odds and ends that would allow me to do my job as a scout properly. Once I had everything I picked up the my bow and slung it on my body before I headed out the door. For the first time in a month I didn’t have to pass Snow’s Tinsmithy on my way to my normal mess facility.

Half an hour later I arrived in the inner ward where a small group of four other people were gathered, I was still munching on the last of my breakfast. I had managed to pick up almost twice as many of the field rations as anyone else. I had also asked that the next time I came down I they would have special double rations made for me so that I wouldn’t starve out in the field. When I reached the Inner ward I found the group that I was to join. They were standing in an organized group under the command of a tall fair haired man, who I guessed probably had started off his life as a woman. None the less he showed every sign of being comfortable, cool, and most importantly competent under the current circumstances. Once I was sure of my personal assessment I went to join the group, that was obviously waiting for someone. The leader of the group turned to face me as soon as I came in the inner ward and held out his hand

“I’m Jonah Harkort and I presume that you must be Oberon. George has told me that you would be joining my unit today.” I shook the proffered hand before I confirmed my name and confirmed the fact that I was here to join his unit. “Well that means that we’re only missing one of new additions. I sure hope that you can survive out there. Recently lutin activity has been increasing for some unknown reason.”

“Trust me I can hold my own on battlefield.”

“You sound confident.”

“I should be considering the amount of experience I have in warfare.”

“Are you meaning to tell me that what George told me about you is true?”

“That is what I’m telling you.”

“Well then you will make an excellent addition to the squad. The person who you’re replacing is currently laid up after he was hit by a lutin arrow on our last patrol.”

“It would take more than one arrow to knock me out of a fight.”

“We’ll see how everything goes when the time comes. By the way there’s supposed to be someone else coming with you.”

“Yes there is. He should be here shortly. He’s a little young but I can tell you right now all he needs is some practice.” Jonah nodded slowly before I noticed Daniel coming towards us with a smile on his narrow canine face. I waved to him and I noticed the smile broaden as he jogged the remaining distance to greet the lieutenant in charge of the squad. Once all the greetings had been taken care Jonah shouted out

“Lets get moving people we have a long way to go, we’re burning up daylight here.” I nodded and took my longbow into my left hand and fell into the rear of the group as we made our way out of the keep and down through the outer ward and eventually the town of Euper. Once we left the town behind we turned north and headed for the Giant’s Dike, a place that I had already visited once on my own personal scouting mission when I first arrived at the Keep just over a month ago. Now though I was going there on a sanctioned scouting mission with a squad of others to back me up in case I ran into an enemy.

As we walked north I did my own evaluation of the squad’s personal. As far as I could tell Jonah was exactly what George had told me he was, an excellent soldier with a good eye for the terrain around him and his people. Trent Longfellow wasn’t so much long as he was big, the guy probably weighed close to six hundred pounds, not really ideal for a scout, but it was to be expected considering what animal he took his form from, a flatlands bison. On the opposite end of the scale there was Olivia Janson, her form was that of a stoat, a kind of weasel. That meant that she was thin and wiry, perfect for an spellcaster like herself. She told me on one of our marching breaks that she enjoyed her new form, before she arrived at the keep she had been a stout woman of ample proportions, now though she couldn’t get fat if her life depended on it. The final member of the squad that I had joined was Herbert Johanssun, he was the smallest member of the squad, even when he was as large as he could get. He told though that he was the perfect size to tackle the lutins because at just over four feet tall he could meet them at their own height, where I towered over lutins like a building in Euper. Each person used whatever weapon they felt best with. Trent was carrying a pair of large chain flail maces with spiked metal heads, his back up weapon was great-sword that he wore on his back. Jonah carried a simple single handed broadsword and a shield, though he did possess a couple of throwing knives. Herbert and Olivia were both relatively lightly armed, though they both carried a short sword at their sides. Finally there was myself and Daniel, He carried his bow and a side-sword, since it matched his style of fighting. I of course, was the walking arsenal of the group with more weapons than you could shake a stick at.

That evening when we stopped for the night to make camp Jonah pointed where everyone was going to sleep, and the watch rotation for the night. Since we were able to light a fire this evening, most of all talk about our previous experiences in warfare. When I talked about a battle that had taken place more than twenty years ago the whole squad knelt closer to me to hear the story. That particular story was actually pretty mild since most of the unit that I had been attached to had managed to survive the engagement. When I finished the story Trent went out to the watch position while I crawled into my tent to get a few hour of sleep before I had to take the watch, Olivia and I were probably the ones best suited for the late night and early morning watches because of our exceptional night vision.

Some time later, I wasn’t exactly sure how long though, I awoke with Trent shaking my shoulder

“You’re turn to take the watch Oberon.” I nodded slowly and then told him to give me a few minutes. I quickly got dressed and equipped, though I left my bow and quiver behind since they were less than useless out here in the middle of the night. Instead I had my six throwing knives, The Dragon’s Claw, my single handed broadsword, my long dagger, and two stilettos. Once I was finished getting all of my things together I threw on my grey cloak and headed out into the night. For me low light of the night wasn’t a problem because of my feline eyes gave me superior night vision. When I reached where Trent was back waiting for me he grinned slightly before he said

“Glad to see you here Oberon. I can’t see a blasted thing, its darker than the insides of the Lieutenant’s boots out here.”

“Well I can see just fine.”

“Damn all you cats.” He responded with a laugh as he stood up, grabbed his shuttered lantern, and headed back to camp.

A little more than an hour later I smelled something vaguely familiar, though the odour was very faint. In order to get a better read on the odour I curled up my lip and let the odour pass over a sensory organ in my mouth. An instant later I reached down and slowly, with much care I quietly drew my broadsword. The odour that I had detected was that of a rare drug from my homeland, Narrelat was a drug that was used by the Racteganect, they were assassins that specialized in attacking in shadow of night. I kept my ears open and waited until I heard a small twig behind me crack, with a move as quick as death itself I whirled with my sword in hand. The move removed the head of the lead assassin and warded of the second. I reached over my shoulder and grabbed the head of the second man with my claws extended and jerked until a loud grinding crunch sound came to my ears. At the same time I thrust out with the sword catching the man that I had warded off just under the chin with the tip of the blade, the last assassin the unit I had to grab with my left hand, I jerked his head down and used my huge teeth to remove his entire throat. The whole series of events took less than a minute and I was left standing with blood on my face, neck-ruff, chest, and claws. I had to spend most of the rest of my watch cleaning myself up and concealing the bodies of the assassins. I did manage to find a small sheaf of papers on the body of the second man that I had killed. I would have to wait for later to read it though, because even though my night vision was good it wasn’t that good. By the time I went to fetch Olivia I had managed to conceal all signs that there had been a fight here. I didn’t want the others to know that they had to worry about more than just the lutins.

The next day was pretty much the last though I did find some signs that there were enemies in the area. However, we didn’t run into anything of note until the third day, I was on the point when I held up my my hand to give the signal that we should all stop and get down. I carefully slid and arrow out of my quiver with my right hand and nocked it, while I concentrated on the information that my senses were giving me, then the wind shifted and I quite easily smell the funk of lutins up ahead. I half stood, to get clearance for my bow and drew and released in a single motion. In the trees beyond what I could see I heard a scream, followed by a hailstorm of lutin arrows. I crouched behind the bole of a large tree, though it probably wasn’t large enough. I felt a sudden spike of white hot pain in my left thigh and glanced down to see a black fletched arrow sticking into my leg. I grimaced in pain at the arrow and yanked at the shaft, removing it in a single motion. The pain that followed was somewhat different, but it was something that I had felt many times before. I looked down at my leg again and noticed the fact that the white and black fur was stained crimson with my own blood. I dropped my pack, pulled out a field dressing and slapped it onto the wound before I drew my long-sword and stood up once more and glanced over at Jonah, who was also hiding behind a tree. Both Herbert and Olivia were both hiding under the heavily armoured form of Trent, he was covering them with his massive form. There were at least a dozen arrows protruding form his armour, though it didn’t appear that any of them had actually managed to penetrate his armour. Daniel was also hiding behind a tree, though every so often he would jump from behind his hiding place and unleash an arrow of his own at our unseen attackers. Jonah looked at me and then gave me a silent signal that we had to attack our enemies in order to get them to stop shooting arrows at the rest of the squad. I dashed forwards with Jonah beside me, as I ran I had to use Claw to deflect more than a dozen arrows before we entered a small clearing from which the lutins were shooting arrows. I dashed towards the nearest archers and began hewing at them with the Claw. There was no finesse in this fight, instead it was a simple matter of brute force and wide sweeping blows, I had just cleared out the last of the archers and was going to go join Jonah when the Claw shouted in my mind ‘Behind you!’ I whirled, taking my left hand off of the Claw, drawing my broadsword and sweeping it through the skull of another lutin that was trying to sneak up behind me while I sliced through the upraised blades of the two who had been trying to get behind me before the Claw had given me the warning about them. With their weapons taken care of I quickly disposed of them and turned back to go help Jonah, and that was when a lutin mage made its presence known. A blast of pure energy struck me and flung me back into a the bole of a very thick very sturdy tree and I knew no more.

Some time later, I’m not exactly sure how long though, I awoke to find myself looking up at the ceiling of some place.

“How are you feeling Oberon?” I heard a voice ask me. I turned my head and looked to the side to see Jonah standing there with a pair of smaller figures one who I recognized as Sir Saulius the Knight.

“Art thou well Adòn?” I tried to sit up, only to have a searing pain lance through my chest from just over my heart. I fell back with a grunt, I managed to hiss out a rather strong oath in Kelmarhastarat

“Du sung chu’tang roc sung krachendra ko sung tachoda gtrik.” Sir Saulius, who I was able to recognize, cast a inquiring glance at the other rat, who I didn’t know, but the second rat, this one of brown fur and wearing a set of chain mail, shrugged his shoulders. I looked closely at the second rat and realized that this was someone that I had never seen before, though from the way that he stood I could tell that he was a very dangerous person. This was someone to be treated with a great deal of respect. At that point Sir Saulius repeated himself by asking me once again,

"Art thee well?"

"I've had better days Sir Saulius." I managed to say without causing too much more pain. The knight gestured to the other rat.

"My squire, Charles, was wondering if thou wert well enough to answer a few questions about what thee saw. Canst thee do so, or shouldst we return another time?"

"I should be able to answer a few questions. I haven't lived as long as I have without having to accrue my fair share of injuries like this in battle." I grunted, this was taking more out of me than I expected for a simple hit in the ribs. The second rat, the one named Charles, stepped forward, paws clasped behind his back.

"Thank you, Adon. Tell me, how many Lutins were there in the force you ran across?"

"I think there were roughly thirty to forty of them, as well as at least one mage, I hate mages! We managed to take out most of their archers and I don't know how many more Jonah and rest of the unit managed to kill, but my own score was around eight." Charles grimaced and his tail flicked form side to side.

"How many were left when you were struck? Do you recall?"

“I’m afraid I don’t know, though I suspect that there were still at least twenty, if not more, still remaining.”

"I see. And where were they headed? Had they made camp, or were they moving through the area?"

“That I can tell you, as far as I could tell this unit had set themselves up in the area to ambush us, I was lucky to pick up their odour before they attacked. Therefore I would suspect that they have established themselves in the area and are trying to strike out at any force that comes into their area of operations.” Charles nodded thoughtfully, and exchanged a glance with Jonah and Sir Saulius. The knight had nothing to say, and Jonah was still in a bit of a shock. The rat returned his attention to Adon.

"You say they were there to ambush you. Were they there long? How well provisioned were they?"

"I couldn't really tell I was kind of busy, but from what I was able to tell, from the way that they were positioned I would estimate that they had chosen their position roughly an hour or two before we got there.”

"Thank you. And one last question. Can you describe where it was you found them?"

“It was in a clearing just above a narrow draw where the trail was located, the bush in that area is relatively dense so it will be difficult to sneak around in terrain like that, though there is a chance that you might be able to get through there without being spotted.” I answered and then sunk my head back into the pillow I muttered once more “I hate mages.” Charles laughed in an understanding manner.

"Rest Adon. We will deal with them now. Thank you for your help." Charles turns to leave. Sir Saulius smiled at me and then lowered his head.

"Rest well, warrior." He then too departed leaving Jonah alone with me. Jonah looked down at me and shook his head

“You should be dead after what hit you back there.”

“What do you mean sir?” Jonah rolled his eyes before he pointed out

“Oberon you were hit with a Red Lightening Spell, that should’ve killed you.” I looked around for my armour and sword without raising my head from the pillow before I spotted both.

“Jonah would you be so good as to hand me my sword?” He nodded and picked up the sheathed weapon and handed it to me. I looked at the weapon and even drew it an inch out of its scabbard to confirm that it was the Dragon’s Claw. As soon as I felt the song of the sword I asked Jonah,

“How in the world did you manage to get my sword back into its scabbard without touching it?”

“You’ll have to ask Olivia she was the one who took care of that.” I started to chuckle but a shot of pain ran through my chest radiated from my ribs over my heart

“Oberon you have to take it easy for the next few days, that shot of magic really took it out of you.” I nodded slowly before I slumped back into the pillow and let my fatigue take me away.

It was more than a day later when I finally managed to wake up. This time Olivia and Daniel were both in my room sitting in chairs looking at me with concern on their faces. I sat up, and this time it didn’t hurt as much as it had when I had first woken up the day before. Daniel was the first to speak

“Oberon are you ok? I had heard that you had been more gravely wounded than we first believed.”

“Relax kid I’m a lot tougher than they think, I’ve been through a lot worse and come out of it ok so this is really nothing more than a scratch on my battered old hide.” Olivia shook her head before she rolled her eyes and sighed

“Men! You will never admit that something is serious even if you had both of your legs chopped off at the knees.” I chuckled slightly at her comment, but that caused my chest to spasm so I had to lie back to get my breath back once more.

“Olivia I was meaning to ask you something.”

“Go ahead Oberon.”

“How did you manage to get my sword back into its scabbard without touching it?” She shook her head for a second

“It was a real pain in the tail. I had to use a stick to hold the tip up so that I could slip the tip of the weapon into the scabbard. Where did you manage to get your hands on a mithral rune sword Oberon?”

“That weapon is three thousand years old, its an heirloom of my family that has been passed down from father to son for hundreds of generations.” I could see from her face that she was considering that information before she replied with the question.

“Your people have had access to mithral for that length of time?”

“Yes when the sword was created we had just recently discovered mithral, not only the ore but also how to purify and forge it into usable items, most notably weapons and armour.” Olivia nodded before Daniel said

“Please Oberon you have to take better care of yourself, you aren’t immortal.” I laughed softly at his demand before I managed to reply

“I may not be immortal Daniel but I’m a proficient warrior who understands that there are some risks to our profession.” The greyhound morph shook his head before he asked Olivia if she wanted anything, he was going out to collect something to eat. “Daniel can you pick up a little something for me as well?”

“Sure thing Oberon.” He shouted back as he left the room leaving me alone with Olivia. She shook her head before she asked me

“Where in the keep did you find that kid?” I chuckled once more

“He is a bit of an enthusiast isn’t he?”

“You could say that.”

“I ran into him when I was assigned to a different unit of scouts, they were nowhere near as good as you people.”

“Then why did you bring him with you into our unit?”

“He actually showed some promise, something that the rest of the members of that unit were all lacking. His only problem is the fact that he doesn’t have a whole lot of training, but that is something that I’ve been taking care of ever since I joined his unit.” Olivia nodded slowly and sat back in her chair and looked up at the ceiling while waiting for Daniel to get back with the food.

Two days later we embarked on a carriage back to Metamor Keep while the scouts from Glen Avery were still out dealing with the lutins that we had located for them. As I climbed into the carriage, the woman who had been responsible for my treatment in the village told me

“As soon as you reach the Keep I would like you to pay a visit to Brian Coe so that you can have those wounds of yours looked at.” I assured her that I would before the vehicle moved out of the town and towards the Keep. I just hoped that this injury wouldn’t have me being laid up for too long.

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Conversations

2017-07-11T12:55:56Z

Lem: Corrected autospell errors

[[Category:Story]] [[Category:Animal]]
{{DEFAULTSORT: Conversations}}
[[Category:Metamor Keep]]
[[Category:Oberon]]
{{editing requested}}{{universe|Metamor Keep}}

By: [[User:Oberon|Oberon]]

This morning I had to deal with two different issues. The first was the fact that my incompetent patrol commander was trying to get rid of me because I hadn’t followed her order to the T even though those orders would probably get me killed. The second issue was the fact that the last time I had left for patrol I had, in a fit of frustration, ripped the Snow’s Tinsmithy sign from the wall on my way to where I normally ate breakfast. Now I would have to deal with an irate Samoyed because of that action. Some days it just didn’t pay to get out of bed. I slowly climbed out of bed and stretched out feeling all of the muscles in my body as I did so. I yawned hugely exposing all of my teeth to the air before I finally stood up. By the bed there was something new that I had never seen before. It was tall post of wood that stretched from the ceiling to the floor. At first I wasn’t really all that sure of what it was meant for and then I looked at my hands and I remembered something about the cat that I had owned for twelve years back home. Like most well to do Kelmar youths I had been able to afford to have a real version of my spirit guide. That snow tiger was what my current form was based on. When I had owned him one thing that I had been forced to do was to alway have a post of wood, available for him to stretch his muscles and sharpen his claws on. I reached up to the ceiling with my hands and extended all ten of my hand claws, hooked them into the wood post and pulled down. I don’t know what it was about doing that but for some reason that really made me feel good. With all of of my little things taken care of I quickly got dressed, since I wasn’t going out today I could dress in lighter more casual clothing, not that there was a big difference in what I wore. Once I was dressed I made my way to my usual mess facility that I ate at. As I sat down I noticed a lithe tawny black spotted form moving through the tables to sit down by the door. The grace with which he moved was something that I quite easily recognized. The form which this person had been graced with was definitely feline, though his form was much smaller than my own. Then again the rat knight Sir Saulius was definitely an indication that even a small warrior could be very dangerous under the right circumstances. I continued to eat my meal while just watching what the other people in the room were doing. When I was finished my meal I put my dishes on the counter where they were supposed go and then headed towards the door. As I passed the door the cat, a cheetah I now recognized said

“Good morning newcomer I haven’t seen you around here before.” I looked over at him before I managed a reply

“I usually have my breakfast a little earlier. But, this morning I had some things that I needed to take care of.” He nodded before he held out a hand-paw and said

“My name is Sir Edmund Delacot of the Order of the Protectors.” I glanced at his shirt and noted the small gold cross that was stitched in just above his heart.

“I am Adòn Naharél of the Sundering Stone Clan from the Kelmar Clanlands.” His eyes registered some puzzlement before he finally managed to ask

“Can you tell me where that is?”

“It would be hard for me to explain sir, but suffice it to say that it is a long way from here, or for that matter any place that you would recognize.” He nodded before I asked him, politely if I could be on my way, I had things to do and people to see. He nodded his head before I wished him a good day and headed back to my apartment where I got dressed for my meeting with the Patrol Master. The last thing I put on was the two shoulder medallions that identified me as a bladelord of the bronze, these medallions were made of polished bronze with the engraving of a crossed hammer and sword below a circle of four stars surrounded by a wreath of oak leaves. As soon as I was properly dressed I headed towards the George’s office. When I got there I recognized the figures of both George, the jackal morph and of Barbara the female soldier. I stepped to one side placed my arm across my chest and bowed my head in respect. Barbara quickly took a position in front of George before she said

“Sir this man is disrupting my patrol, he’s insubordinate, negligent in his duties, and reckless on the field in combat.”

“What did he do Barbara?” George quietly asked the woman “Give me the details.”

“He charged an enemy force against my orders to the contrary. I was forced to bring the rest of the squad in to follow him so that we could ensure his safety. At the end of the fight we had to recover him because he had collapsed for some unknown reason.” At that point I had to speak up before she sullied my name too much

“Sir we were under fire from a well positioned enemy who was under cover. They had the high ground, the only way to get them out of their hiding place was to attack them.” George seemed to ignore my comment and asked

“So Oberon here attacked them without your orders?”

“Sir he attacked them against my my orders.” She almost shouted. George fixed the woman with a glare before he said

“What were you going to do Barbara? Just sit there and let the enemy shoot arrows at you.” She rolled her eyes in contempt

“I was planning on pulling back and then attacking them through the rocks at the end of that section of trail, not straight up the rocks like this idiot here did.” I shook my head before I commented

“How were we going to pull back? We were under intensive fire from a concealed, prepared enemy who was holding the high ground.” George looked at the Lieutenant before he asked

“How were you going to pull back? and pull back to where?”

“I was planning on pulling back to a point where we weren’t under fire before ascending the rocks to roll up their position.” I shook my head in exasperation

“How were we going to back the wagons up ma’am, push them while we were under fire?”

“I see,” George said calmly before he turned his gaze on me “And you Oberon. Did you ever consider that frontally attacking an enemy is suicidal?” I shook my head, this time in negation

“There are times when the only reasonable thing to do is to attack. Besides I’ve attacked much worse targets than a bunch of under-trained bandits.”

“But there are times when all you can do is withdraw.” The hyena countered

“Sir when you have a valuable caravan to guard you have to try and save the caravan. If it was just me and the rest of the squad I would’ve been happy to retreat, but there were other people who were counting on us to protect them from this group of bandits.” After considering both of our testimony George looked up and said

“I think that I’ve heard all that I need to hear.” The woman seemed to smiled in triumph before she asked indicating in my direction

“What are you going to do about him?” George looked at me and then said in a firm voice

“Oberon. From now on you’re being reassigned to another unit.” I nodded slowly

“I hope that the new patrol can take advantage of my skills and experience in combat.” Barbara also said something

“I hope that you can give me someone half-way competent to replace his worthless hide.” George looked at the woman with narrowed eyes before he replied

“I’ll see that you get what you deserve. Dismissed.” She turned on her heel, something that I could no longer do considering the fact that my heel bone ended at a point that had formally been about half-way up my calves, and left “Oberon you stay. I need to talk more with you.”

“What is it you need to talk to me about sir?”

“I am going to reassign you to a new unit. One who’s people I trust to make good use of your skills, I also trust these people to do the right thing. You’ll probably see more action with them because you will be sent into areas that are a little more hazardous.” I slowly smiled, my tail and ears both reflected how I felt. It was going to be good to get out to where the real action took place. I had had enough of being on patrols where there wasn’t anything to do. Then I remembered something

“Thank you sir, I have one favour to ask of you. There is a young member of the Lieutenant's patrol that I’ve been training, and I would hate to have to end his training because I’m no longer available.” His ears perked forwards and he asked

“Why?”

“The boy has shown some promise sir and I think that his potential would be wasted in his current position.”

“All right. I’ll have him reassigned along with you.” I nodded

“I would appreciate that sir. What should I do about the upcoming trial of that hysteric that I captured back on the last patrol?”

“That’s not really your problem. You’ll be contacted when the trial is to start. But that is Thalberg’s problem, not mine.” I slowly laughed before I stated

“Personally I would prefer not to be involved, but I guess that isn’t up ot me is it?” He shook his head before he replied

“You are involved. After all you helped capture him.” I ruefully scratched my left ear

“I don’t really remember all that much about how I captured him. You see I was under the influence of the Kelmar Blood Rage, a rare ability among my people that allows those who possess it to become fighters without equal.”

“Still you will have to speak, but I doubt you’ll have to say al that much. A fanatic like that usually can’t stop preaching their hatred of all that is different.”

“I have encountered their kind before and I can tell you that I hold no love for them. In the past I’ve been driven from good paying jobs because of them.” George nodded slowly

“I’ve killed many fanatics like him, both Follower and Lightbringer.”

“Well I can see that we both share a dislike of fanatics and incompetents.” He laughed at that

“At least they tend to get themselves killed fairly quickly.”

“Yeah don’t you know it. Well if you don’t mind sir I’ve got to go out and do a little training out on the practice field. After all I don’t really want to get rusty.”

“Fair enough. Be back here at eight-o-clock for you new assignment.”

“Yes sir.”

“Dismissed!” With that order I turned and left the room. As soon as I reached my room I put on my armour and weapons before I headed out to the practice field were I began to practice. Today though I took a weapon that I had never had a chance to use before. It was a bow that I had made a long time ago when I was trying earn my rank as a Blademaster of the Red. Unfortunately I had never been able to draw the weapon because it had the idiotic draw strength of 250 pounds. However, now I believed that I would be able to draw the weapon because of the changes that I had undergone. I took a special glove that I had collected from Jack DeMule that would prevent me from cutting the bowstring with my claws. When I reached the firing line I pulled four long arrows out of the quiver and placed them point down on a small stand that was set up for just that purpose. I quietly stood there for a second to center my mind before I grabbed the first arrow, knocked it, pulled back, aimed, and released all in a single smooth motion. For me that was the trick to using a bow of this power. I repeated the motion four times and then waited for the other archers in the line to cease firing. Once they did I went over to the target and smiled at the results of my practice. The four arrows were embedded, almost to the feathers, in the butts, each was roughly an inch from the bull’s-eye. That was as good as I got with archery, though without the magical aids that the bow possessed I probably wouldn’t even get that good of a hit rate. Just as I finished shooting the bow I saw a familiar figure come up to the firing line with a nicely made yew long-bow and begin shooting. His archery was that much better than my own, but that was to be expected from the leader of the Long Scouts. He looked over at me as I decided that this was as good a time as any to continue practicing with my own weapon. The only way that I would ever get better with it would be through practice. After a few rounds he looked over at me and commented

"My God Oberon just how big is that monster bow? It's bigger then I am! How much pull does that require?" I grinned at him slowly before I replied

"Oh after I made it about forty years ago it was measured and it's 6'3 long and it requires a pull strength of 250 lbs. I was never able to actually use it until now. I'm glad Jack got me this glove,” I indicated the glove on my right hand “,Because otherwise I would be cutting the string with my claws." He shook his head slowly in amazement before he managed to say

"Amazing. I've never seen a bow that strong before."

"Well neither had the Blademasters who were evaluating my work. I actually had to go back and make a different bow in order to satisfy them. This bow has sat at the bottom of my travel chest of many years collecting dust until now. Did you want to try and see if you could draw it?” He looked closely at the bow and then said

"Oberon that thing is a foot longer then I AM!"

"Maybe I should go grab my other bow, the one that I used to use before I came here, It's only 5' long"

"Now THAT is a weapon more my size!" He joked.

"It has the same runes set into the metal parts as this one does. Though the pull is only 145 lbs." he nodded slowly before he said

"I can handle a bow of that pull. May I try it? Shoot a few arrows?"

"Certainly, just give me a few minutes to go up to my room and grab it, though you will have to restring it. The first time I tried to use it after I changed I cut the string with my claws."

“Alright.” The fox answered and went back to shooting his own bow. I dashed into the keep to find my door barely two feet inside the door. I shook my head and the vagaries of the keep and went into the room and grabbed the bow from where it was laying on a set of pegs near the door. I dashed out of the room just as quickly and headed back for the practice field, which was only a few steps away. As soon as I reached the field I stopped and held out the polished composite bow for him to take a look at. Right now it resembled nothing more than a stave of wood with a piece of metal bound to it with sinew.

“This is a work of art! A true masterpiece. Who made this?" I laughed slowly before I responded

“I made this forty years ago, after my first failure with the monster that I now use.”

"Wow. May I use it?" He asked. "I'd love to try it out. See how it works."

"Certainly Misha, though I don't have a spare string available right now to string it." I handed him the unstrung bow. He reached into a pouch that he wore at his side and pulled up a tightly coiled up string.

"I always carry two extras with me. It's an old scout trick. Always have spares of everything."

"I'll keep that in mind next time I go out on patrol." I watched as he deftly strung the powerful weapon all the while he said

"You have to be ready for anything when you're out alone. We Longs are usually a long way from safety."

"Yes, but I don't tend to carry everything I need for a long scouting mission around with me when I'm home. Next time I go out on patrol I plan on packing a little heavier that I normally do. By the way is there some kind of food that will keep this cave of stomach full when I'm out there."

"We have trail rations Oberon. Various meats or fish wrapped up in bread and baked. Not much taste but they are compact, filling and last a long time."

"Well have you seen how much I can eat at one sitting? I have to have some way to maintain this form of mine. When I was human I didn't have to eat near as much as I do now"

“It comes with the form. Maybe you can get the cooks to make you trail rations that are twice the normal size."

"I hope that works because I would like to go out on some of the longer missions that are available. I mean when I was scouting with my old squad I had to supplement my diet with meat that I had caught myself, but I doubt that will be an option north of the Keep."

"Up north we have to hunt if we stay for a long time but often we cannot take the time to hunt. So we need to take trail rations." I nodded and then picked up my bow and grabbed an arrow from my quiver and knocked it, drew, aimed, and fired in my usual smooth style. He slowly drew the powerful bow and loosed an arrow. The arrow flew straight and thumped into the center of the target. "Very nice weapon."

"Since you can hit a target so well can you tell me what I'm doing wrong."

"All right. Shoot again and I'll watch closely." the fox answers.” I nodded slowly and then went through the whole procedure again. Knocking, drawing, aiming, and releasing all in a single smooth motion like I had been taught so many years ago.

"You have a slight hitch in your release. That's the problem. It's messing up your aim."

"How do I cure a problem like this?"

"Practice, practice practice." Misha answers. "Keep working on it till you get it right."

“I guess that I can come down here as often as I am in keep to get some practice.” With that said I drew another arrow and let it fly and the target butts downrange. He nodded

"Nothing but practice can help that."

"Maybe a little instruction from someone who is better at this than I am might help."

"Thank you for the compliment. I'd be willing to help you when I can. "Being a Long would have to come first but I can help."

"I fully understand that sir. I won't be here all that frequently myself because I also have patrol duties." I nodded and then went back to my archery, every so often Misha would point something out to try and resolve my problem and I would do my best to follow his advice. Finally after more than an hour shooting arrows at targets I told Misha that I had some other things that I had to take care of, such as Drift’s sign and my upcoming appearance at the trial of the man who had been attacking caravans coming to and from the Keep. He gave my bow back to me with another complement on how well it was made and before I headed for my room. This time when I entered the keep I swore I had to run through half of the keep in order to get to my room. Just as I finished getting out of my armour I heard a knock at the door, when I opened I found myself looking down at a small tan coloured coyote who wore a talbard that marked him as a messenger of the Duke.

“Are you Adòn Naharél?” I did nothing more than nod before the coyote continued “I have a message here for you.” With that he produced a large cream coloured envelope which he placed in my hand before he dashed off down the hall. I looked at the envelope for a second before I closed the door and broke the elaborate wax seal to expose the letter inside

'''''Adòn Naharél you are commanded to appear before a duly appointed court of your equals two weeks from today, April 3rd 707, to determine the fate of one Sir Guy DeHarancourte. As the one responsible for his arrest your testimony will be very important to the case of the government.
Malisa Hassan, Prime Minister of The Northern Midlands'''''

I shook my head, I had always hated official business but I guess that there was no way for me to get around this case. After all not only was I the one responsible for the arrest of the defendant, but I was also one of his victims. Tomorrow when I reported to George, the patrol master, I would have to show him this letter so that I would be detached from patrol duty for the duration of the trial, not that I was looking forward to it. After looking at the note I placed it on my desk with my journal and took off all of my heavy equipment before I went into my forge room to do some work on the bow that I was creating. The piece of steel that I had left to cool the last time that I had been here was now quite cool and as flexible as I had intended it to be. I carefully trimmed the size of the piece before I picked up a small double handled knife and began to work on the yew stave. The first thing I did was trim the piece down to roughly five feet long, this bow wasn’t something that I personally intended to use, before I got down to the real work of getting the bow to the right shape and proportions that I needed for it to be considered a proper long-bow. When I had roughed out the shape of the bow, I looked over at my other bow, the one that I had been using for years as a template for this new weapon, though this weapon would be far more finely crafted than that weapon.

Some time later when I had finished the most vital part of the creation of a Kelmar weapon, the incising of the the God Runes that gave the weapon is potency, I looked up and found that it was getting dark out. It was then that I remembered the fact that I still had to go talk to Drift about the sign that I had ripped out of the wall five days ago in a fit of frustration. I wasn’t looking forward to the meeting, but then again I guess that I deserved whatever came my way. I quickly threw on my favorite black cloak and made my way down to his forge where it looked like he was just closing up for the day. He looked up and saw me and smiled

"Good evening, Adon. I'm glad you could make it."

"I'm sorry about what I did but that thrice cursed sign has given me a headache every time I've come through here to get to where I have breakfast every day." He looked surprised before he managed to reply

"The Keep has you walk past here every day?"

“I don't know why, maybe it has a perverse pleasure in seeing me knock my brains out on that sign."

"Unlikely. Interesting... When that happened to me, the Keep seemed to be suggesting that I was supposed to do something here." He shrugs. "But whatever the case, if you'll replace the sign, I'll see about getting it hung higher. You're not the only one to get clonked by it."

"Why else would I be forced to walk along the same path every day? I'm a warrior not a tinsmith, my experiences with metal working are restricted to weaponsmithing. As for getting you a new sign, I'm not really much one for woodwork, I can craft a long-bow, a staff, spear-shafts, and arrows but as for carving my skills are a bit more limited." He shook his head

"My ranged skills are terrible, so a bow or arrows-" He stops, brow furrowing. Hmmmmm....How are you at making arrows?"

"Well I make all of my own arrows, though it depends on the quality of the components that I receive."

"Misha needs arrows made. Work with him, and I'll replace the sign myself."

"If you want I can make the metal bits, the pins that hold it into the wall." He shook his head and countered

"I already reworked the wall hooks. They weren't too badly damaged.”

In that case do you need any kind of weapon, for your own use, I can make just about any kind of weapon that you can imagine." I demonstrated that by taking the sword that I had sheathed at my side out of its scabbard and holding it out to him, hilt first. He took the weapon from my hands carefully and looked at the blade before he looked up at me and asked

“What's the strongest metal you're familiar with?"

"Mithral, though I don’t have a good supply of it nor the skills to work it. The second strongest metal that I am familiar with is steel which I can work." Drift pondered my words again, and then beckoned me inside. He takes out a small black book and flips it open to a schematic of a weapon that I had never seen before. It looked kind of like a staff, but made of metal, with sections that retract into a foot-long cylinder. Two spikes can deploy from the weapon when fully extended, one from each end. "Would steel be able to stand up to battle forces at this width?" he asked, pointing to the walls of the collapsible portions.

"It would if I reinforced it with a couple of Kelmar God Runes."

"Hmmm. I'll have to think on this," he says as he snaps the book closed and puts it away. "In the meantime, please talk to Misha. He really does need arrows." Drift snorted.

“I'll talk to him next time I see him, probably after my next patrol mission when we go out to practise archery together. He's helping me correct a problem that I seem to have with my release."

"At least you can get your claws out of the way."

"True but your claws won't cut the string if you aren't wearing a special glove" I pointed out laughing

"No, they'll just catch on the string, nearly get yanked out of your hands, and foul my shot rather spectacularly.

"Can't you get one of those special gloves from DeMule that prevents that sort of thing?"

"Would you enjoy getting your claws folded over? I don't.

“Ouch that sounds like it would hurt, but then again what about Misha he’s a fox and yet he can shoot the bow better than I can.”

"He's been shooting a bow since he was five years old. And apparently, foxes can retract their claws somewhat."

"There is that, though I've been training as a warrior since I was five, however my training was a little more diverse in nature." He shrugged

"That and, well, he's Misha."

“There is that.” I thought for a few more seconds before I finally said "One weapon of his that I admire is that monster of an axe that he uses." Drift nodded

"She is impressive. Most definitely impressive.”

"I'm not much one for axes, I prefer swords personally like the one that you have there in your hands, but if I had an axe like that I would probably change my tune." I watched him as he respectfully tested the sword for balance and weight, but I noticed that he didn’t move with any great level of skill.

"The staff is more my preferred weapon, though I try to keep a sword as a backup. I need the range, but I'm not a particularly good fighter."

"If you want I can probably come up with a neat little sword that would suit you perfectly, custom built to your exact specifications." His ears tip forward. "Okay, you have my attention," he says, offering the sword back. "What do you have in mind?"

"I was thinking that you would probably prefer something along the lines of a single handed sword, similar to this one but with a narrower blade. It would be a handy weapon, quicker on the strike but still fairly strong."

"Strength would actually be pretty important. It would have to withstand swings in my taurform."

"Well I hope that you aren't offended but all of my weapons come with these runes on them," I pointed to the set of four God Runes that were engraved on the blade of my sword before I slid it back into its scabbard at my side. Drift’s right ear flips forward, his left back.

"Why would I be offended? What do they mean?”

"They are special Runes that utilize the power of my gods to keep the blade sharp, free from corrosion, strengthen it, and prevent damage."

"Hmmm. I'd have to think about it, Adon. I'm in debt to other gods enough already." He reaches up and thoughtfully rubs the left side of his jaw.

"You wouldn't be in debt to my gods through the use of these weapons. I'm the one that puts them there in the first place and I am the one that has to pay the price for those favours." Drift nodded slowly before he replied.

"Let me think on it, okay? Thank you for the offer." He said before I turned and left the forge and headed for the door. I guess I was pledged now to make arrows for Misha, but that was better than getting in trouble with the watch.

The next day at five minutes before eight I walked into George’s office and stood in front of his desk. He was sitting behind the desk with a silver cup in his hand with his shirt unbuttoned obviously still trying to wake himself up.

“Reporting as ordered.” he looked up at me before he asked a question that completely caught me off guard

“What is your full name Oberon?”

"My full name is Adòn Naharél Sahnat’Haudörn of the Sundering Stone Clan."

“Adòn Naharél" the jackal said slowly repeating the name. "I knew a mercenary down in Pyralis a decade ago. That was you?"

"Pyralis, hmmmm..... I Was down there about a decade ago, though I can't recall what I was doing down there."

"Your were helping me overthrow a ruler and put his brother in power." He answered. I scratched myself above the left ear

"I think I remember a working with brown haired old battle axe when I was down there, the guy was tougher than old boot leather." The hyena laughed in a strange almost hooting manner before he replied.

"That's the most pleasant thing I've been called in a long time."

"Wait a minute that was you! I thought that you'd vanished into the Midlands after that escapade. Remember how persistent those soldiers were?"

"A lot of people want me dead and haven't killed me yet. A man has to know when to stand his ground and when to run for safety!"

"That was an early lesson that I learned when I was back home with my own people before I was forced to come to the continent to try my hand at the mercenary trade."

"It seems were both orphans with no home until we came here."

"Well I've been a student of war for fifty-five years and have grown used to it."

"Well here you can be a student of life and settle down to live here."

"It will take me a little time to settle down, I've been on the move for more than thirty years. I've never managed to stay in the same place for more than six months at a stretch and now I have to stay tied down to one place for the longest time in my life other than when I was growing up.” George gave a short bark of laughter

"Well kitty cat now you have no choice but to stay here. The curse had made sure of that."

"Well I can probably make up for that by serving this place as a scout of some kind. You remember back then I was quite competent in that capacity."

"You wouldn't be here if I hadn't remembered how good you were. I hope your skills haven't withered."

"With more than ten years of practice, you think that they've gotten worse? I highly doubt it George.” The jackal nodded his head. "Good! I'm going to test you to see just how good you really are!"

"Ok do your worst. Though I will have to be here in two weeks because of the trial of that fanatic that I captured. This letter," I held out the piece of paper that the coyote had given me ",tells me that I have to be available at that time." George laughed as he took the proferred letter and placed it on his desk.

"Now THAT is the wrong thing to say to me. My worst can be very bad!"

"I'm probably as tough as you are George or else I wouldn't have made it out of Pyralis alive."

"I don't doubt that but I'm still going to test you hard anyway!"

"What about this dumb trial? I indicated the letter with a flip of my hand-paw

"I doubt it will take very long. That fanatic will probably convict himself if we just let him."

"Usually I don't worry about that sort of thing, but for some reason I decided that this one deserved to stand trial."

"He's lucky to be alive long enough to stand trial. Thomas is a fair man. Lesser men would simply hang a fanatic like that."

“His luck started when I simply broke his legs and shoulders instead of sheathing my sword in his guts.” George laughed again.

"I certainly wouldn't have taken him prisoner. I'd just have slit his throat."

“I was just at the end of my blood rage, If I had been at the start there wouldn't have been enough left of him to fill a hat-box.”

"I see. If Thomas decides you might get to see him beheaded."

"That idiot was the one that caused me to be stuck here in the first place."

"And now he is stuck here too and you are the cause. He is liable to be changed by the curse too. Just like you."

"I wonder what he'll turn into, a child? The humility would be good for him."

"An animal would be a better torment for him."

"A woman would probably do him well as well, teach him a few things, that is in whatever time he has left." George shrugged.

"This Duke tends to be lenient towards criminals. He might be confined for life. The Duke doesn't even HAVE an executioner." George commented. I looked at him in frank amazement before I managed to reply

“Huh a duke without an executioner, how does he manage that?” George laughed

"Amazing isn't it?"

"It's the first time I've ever heard of a nobleman without someone on retainer to perform that distasteful function” He nodded slowly

"But for this fanatic I'm sure Thomas will find someone."

“Well he would have to find someone who doesn't care either way, I mean there are probably at least a dozen people now who would be very willing to kill him by now.”

"Would you be willing to execute him? Kill a man who cannot defend himself?"

"I certainly would like to but I doubt that my gods would condone the action and nor would my honour."

"I thought so. You are a man of honor Oberon." I nodded slowly thinking about my own honour, which in the past thirty years had taken a beating because of my profession.

"All Kelmar Warriors are supposed to be men of honour, unfortunately that isn't always the case."

"All too true, Many, so called honorable men I've met are just cruel and greedy."

"Cruelty and greed are the dominions of the Forsaken Lord of Chaos Barental." George nods. “Back to the reason you are here. I'll be sending you and your new patrol mates up north. This will not be an easy mission."

"I look forward the challenge"

"A patrol. This time Along Gaints Dike. Your sure to run into some lutins or the like up there."

"Sounds like fun, just my kind of mission." George laughed

"A good chance for fighting some lutins."

"The more the merrier, that is up to a certain point, then it just gets dangerous."

"You are starting to sound like Misha. All you need is the axe."

"I think I'll be happy with my sword, Claw of the Dragon."

"Close enough!”

“What kind of commander are you giving me to now?"

"A tough old soldier. He's someone I trust. You’ll do good with him."

"I certainly hope that he's better than my last commander."

"Oh that he is! He's been fighting since the battle of 3 gates."

“I see. I'll make my own judgments on his abilities when I see him tomorrow when I report for the patrol."

"Fair enough. But you will follow his orders. Where you are going there is no room for doing stupid things."

"I understand that. After all I didn't survive some of those battles that I fought as a mercenary by being stupid."

"I hope that he can take advice if I spot the need to give it out."

“He hasn't lived this long by being stupid. That is why I'm assigning you to him."

“I nodded in understanding before I asked "Is there anything else I need to know about my upcoming mission?"

"Do you have any questions?" he asks.

"Should I pack heavy or light?"

"Light of course. But bring enough rations for a week."

"Ok, by the way should I continue to use my atlatl and spear-darts or should I pack my monster of a longbow?"

"That's your choice. so long as you kill effectively."

“My bow can probably drive and arrow through at least two lutins if they are close enough together”

"so long as they're dead." George countered

"That is true, but the thing is a little overpowered. I like it though because this is the first time that I've been able to use it since I made it more than forty years ago."

"Why did you make and carry a weapon for so long that you couldn't use? Why not get rid it?"

"I didn't get rid of it because it was my first weapon that I made to try and confirm my rank as a Blademaster of the Red. In the end I had to make a second bow to confirm that rank, but my Soul Guide, who I now resemble, told me not to get rid of it." George nodded.

"And now you know why. That bow is a fearsome weapon. The lutins will be afraid of it."

"I sure hope so. The more they fear us the more they will stay away from the area around the Keep.” George shook his head.

"I doubt it. These lutins seem too greedy and stupid to understand the common sense of leaving us alone. All they understand is killing and looting."

"They obviously don't get enough of death if they constantly attack us."

"They breed like rabbits. No matter how many we kill there's always more."

"Who keeps sending them after us. There has to be some reason that they keep coming here."

"Nasoj is the latest reason but they have been attacking Metamor for centuries. They even overan the entire midlands centuries ago."

"Why doesn't someone eliminate that guy and end the threat?"

"Not so easy to do. This mage hides in his fortress and lets other people do the fighting and dying."

"That is the worst kind of leader that I know of, let the others do the dying while he collects to rewards for their sacrifices."

"Agreed. But this one is a lot harder to kill then most mages. We'll get him someday." George says in a cold tone. "He'll pay."

"I certainly hope so." George laughed.

"No doubting that Oberon. There is no doubting that. Unless you have any other questions you are dismissed." I nodded and turned around, headed out the door, and went back to my apartment. I grabbed my bracers, my special glove, quiver full of arrows, and my monster of a bow before I headed to the practice field. When I reached the field I carefully placed my quiver on the ground before I set myself for shooting with the bow.

Half an hour later I was still shooting, and for some reason I had gotten my groups to be a little tighter, but none the less they were still roughly an inch away from my aim point.

"Nice shooting Oberon. There are few people capable of shooting that well." Misha says slowly walking up to the tiger.

"I'm still missing my aim point by about an inch."

"That's good enough for combat Oberon. The shot will still kill your target."

"My training masters back home would tell me to go back and practice more if they saw someone shooting like this. I was never considered more than an adequate archer in the Clanlands."

"We;re not in the Clanlands Tiger," the fox explains.

"That may be true but for me to live up to the standards of a Bladelord of the Black I have to improve my ability to use all weapons." Misha nods.

"But you have to live up to reality. We need you skill on patrol and not practicing archery."

"I guess you're right, I need to become comfortable with my present abilities, even if I would like to try and improve them."

"Archery isn't your only skill. Besides it takes time to get used to your new feline body."

"I am getting used to this body."

"It takes time. I suggest trying many different things to get the gauge on just what your new body can and cannot do."

"I've already learned that there are limits to my strength and endurance. For instance if I use my full strength then my endurance goes down quickly, in order for me to prolong my endurance I have to limit the amount of strength that I use to achieve a given objective." Misha nodded. "You'll have to build up your endurance slowly."

"I understand that sir but you do know that I have some limitations because of the form that I have become, I just have to learn to live within those limitations and make the best of any situation that I get into."

"We all have our limitations I guess," the fox said. "But you should always test your limits and expand yourself."

"I know that much, I am after all a Kelmar Warrior and I was taught always to push my limits almost to the point of exhaustion, that way when it came time for a real fight, we would know where those limits are."

"You need to realize also that no matter how strong you are there is someone out there bigger who can kill you. There are trolls and ogres in the giantdowns that can weight as much as a half a ton!"

"Ouch, they sound like they would be very challenging to take down, though I imagine that it can be done."

"I've killed an ogre alone. I've even helped bring down a giant," Misha explained. "Not something I recommend to try alone."

"I don't think that anyone would want to take on something that big, though I must have a weakness of some kind. Oh by the way I have an agreement with Drift, the Samoyed who owns the Tinsmithy near my own rooms. Roughly six days ago I kind of wrecked that sign that he hangs over his door, I kept banging my head on that thing every day when I went to go get my breakfast. Anyways he told me that he would replace the sign if I would take his place making arrows for you, if that is acceptable to you of course."

"That sign of his has a life all it's own. That is acceptable. The Longs and Georges scouts really need them. We went through a lot of arrows over the last few months." I pulled one of my own arrows out and held it out for him to inspect before I replied

"I made this here arrow myself, though the quality of my work will depend on the quality of the shafts, fletching feathers, and steel that I receive to make the arrows from."Misha expected the arrow carefully.

"All right. Looks good. Very fine workmanship."

"I can probably make about two hundred and fifty of these next time that I am able to devote a full day to being in my forge, though that will have to wait until I finish my next patrol."

"Fair enough! I'm surprised you can make them so quickly. Do you need any materials?"

"Yes I need plain shafts, the fletching feathers, the sinew to attach the fletching, and the steel to make the heads from." Misaha nodded.

"How you tried the market? We have some good merchants here. the lumber crews will have the wood you need. And the hunters the feathers and sinews."

"I'll take care of that later today." With that I turned and headed for another part of the field where I pulled my swords from their scabbards and began to go through a number of practice forms.

I spent the next half an hour going through forms before I sheathed my swords, collected my archery equipment and headed back to my room where I left all of my archery equipment behind before I went shopping for the things that I would need to make arrows. The sun was beginning to go down when I finally got back to my room with the last of several barrels that contained all that I would need to make arrows. Tomorrow I would be able to go out and do something which I was trained and experienced at doing, for the first time since my unauthorized mission back more than a month ago. That would truly be interesting. I just hoped that the new officer that he had assigned me to was everything that George said he was. With those thoughts on my mind I went to bed, a very tired cat.

{{series bar
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The Bandit King

2017-07-07T18:36:05Z

Lem: Corrected typos

[[Category:Story]] [[Category:Animal]]
{{DEFAULTSORT: Bandit King, The}}
[[Category:Metamor Keep]]
[[Category:Oberon]]
{{editing requested}}{{universe|Metamor Keep}}

By: [[User:Oberon|Oberon]]

I sat up out of my bed and thought about what I had been forced to do over the past few days at the Deaf Mule. I had been, as a form of penance for getting into a bar brawl on the first day of the Equinox Festival, washing dishes at the Deaf Mule. Tomorrow though I had to go out on patrol with the team of incompetents that I had been assigned to. Therefore today I had to spend some time practicing down in the practice field to ensure that my edge hadn't been dulled. I looked over at the clock ticking on my desk beside my sheaf of papers that I had written my journals on. I slowly pulled myself out of my bed and went over to the window and looked out over the inner ward of the Keep. I didn’t mind living here in the Keep but it was so restricted when compared with my old life. I had been a mercenary for more years than most people could believe and now I was stuck here at the Keep because of what I looked like. Don’t get me wrong I liked what I now resembled but it doomed me to spend the rest of my long life here in one part of the world. After several more minutes of standing at the window I turned and got dressed in my simplest clothing before I grabbed a towel and made my way down to the baths. There were a few people in the baths but by in large they kept to themselves. One person I did recognize was the dark raccoon swordsman that I had faced a few days before in the swordsmanship contest at the festival. Though I recognized him I didn’t go over to him because I preferred to keep to myself. That was just the kind of person that I was, I had been this way for a lot longer than most people had been alive.

Some hours after breakfast I headed down to the practice ground in full battle array with both real swords as well as practice swords in case someone wanted to spar with me. Once I reached the ground I found went over to where the archers were busying themselves by shooting arrows at the straw butts in that were lined up against the wall. I pulled my atlatl out of its position beside the quiver and nocked a spear-dart before I looked down range at my target before I tossed the small spear with only as much force as I needed for it to reach the target . I repeated the operation four times and then waited while the archers finished firing arrows at the targets before I walked down towards my target to check my aim. I was satisfied by the results because the four darts were each embedded in the target all within half an inch of the bull’s-eye. That was good acuracy given the fact that I wasn’t firing these thing from their maximum range. I practiced at the range for more than half an hour before I found myself a open space in the practice ground where I pulled out my swords and began to practice my forms with both blades weaving a singing net of steel around my body. In the past month since my body had changed I had grown used to wielding swords around my body even with my enhanced size, altered feet, and four and a half foot long tail. I was halfway through my favorite forms with my swords where I noticed something unusual from the corner of my eye. Riding upon a black pony and dressed in chain mail, bearing a sword at his side, and a lance tucked underneath one arm, was what appeared to be a rodent of some variety. The pony stamped his hooves with regal bearing, and the rider, he looked like a knight of the Midlands, watched me with clear intelligent eyes. Then, rider and steed approached when I grounded both of my weapons, stomping just beyond my reach. Tilting his head to one side, long whiskers twitching as he spoke with a strange accent

“Pardon me, fine warrior, but wouldst thou consent to sharing this field? My steed hath need of a run, and I hath a need to practice my skills with lance upon yon enemy.” With a paw-like hand the knight indicated a practice post with arms that swiveled and a head that would snap free if hit hard enough. I had at first contemplating using the target but I had quickly realized that if I were to use it like a target in my homeland I would quickly reduce the post to kindling in very short order indeed. After a second I replied with as much dignity as I could muster in the face of this knight

“Certainly good Knight, I have seen your kind before on many a field of battle and I know that you answer the call of honour like I do.” I knew that knights of the Midlands were excellent warriors who could handle themselves very well on the field. They were people that I treated with a great deal of respect. The knight nodded his head in gratitude. I noted that this rodent, a rat I think, was as tall as I was while he was astride his pony. In the Kelmar Clanlands there were men of many different sizes, but to see a warrior that was sitting astride a horse and yet wasn’t any taller than I was standing on my own two feet was quite surprising. “You aren’t all that big for a warrior Sir Knight.” I commented before I could reign in my traitorous tongue. His whiskers twitched as he smiled and replied

“Tis not a warrior’s size that determines his skills.” I nodded my head slowly

“I apologize for that errant comment. I’ve learned that much over the past fifty five years that I’ve spent as a warrior.” His eyes widened

“Fifty five years?” Ah, thou has been touched by two natures of Metamor’s curse.”

“No the reason that I appear to you like this is because I am a Kelmar Warrior and my people seem to live much longer than the people in the Midlands.” The pony on which the rat was mounted stamped his fore hooves and the knight patted him to soothe him before he said

“Kelmar? Where dost that be? Ach! Forgive this knight a most grievous breach in ettiquette! I high Sir Erick Saulius, a knight of the Flatlands who hast found a new home at Metamor. And who be thee, warrior of Kelmar?”

“My name is Adòn Naharél Sahnat’Haudörn of the Sundering Stone Clan, though my clan has been dead for thirty years.” The knight frowned and then shook his head

“I hath ne’er heard of Kelmar, nor thy clan, Adòn. Forgive my ignorance. Dost it lay perchance across the mountains?”

“No Sir Knight, lies far to the west over an ocean, where none of you kind have ever ventured.” His frown does not leave instead, he sat straighter in his saddle,

“So what hast brought thee to Metamor.”

“I was a mercenary, I was guarding a caravan of goods bound for the Keep. The caravan was ambushed by bandits, just outside of the demesnes of the Keep and I was badly wounded. So my comrades from the caravan left me here at the Keep when they left for the Midlands to escape the curse of the Keep.” He nodded sagely

“A great many hath fallen to the same fate as thou hast. And e’en the greatest warrior can be brought low by a stray arrow or blade.”

“In this case it was a giant of a man who bore a massive axe. I had just killed him with a stroke of my short sword. He dropped his ungainly hunk of crude metal on my bare head and knocked me clean into the next week.”

“Then thou wert fortunate not to be killed!”

“Yes indeed, but I remained in the infirmary for more than two weeks. It was probably all that I deserved, not putting on my helmet before engaging an enemy is just plain stupid.” The rat rubbed his own head, as he is not wearing a helmet either

“I hath come for practice only, but thou art correct. When in battle if thou wilt not protect that which keeps thee alive, then tho art courting death.”

“The problem with my helmet at the time, was the fact that it obstructed my vision and disrupted my aim with a bow and arrow, so I didn’t put it on. I paid the price for that little slip up, almost with my life. What I really wish, was that there was a helmet that wouldn’t reduce my vision, and yet would still protect my head.” The knight smiled

“Ah, then thou must speak to DeMule. He wilt find thee a helmet that wilt do as thee wishes. I didst take my armour to the smithy when I didst arrive, that it might fit my new form.”

“I don’t use a bow anymore anyways because my claws do fearful damage to the string.” I demonstrated this fact by extending the five claws on my right hand.

“Ah, I canst see that.” He said his eyes going wide once more. He hefted his lance and nodded to the target dummy. “I hath watched thee practice, perhaps thou wilt watch me?”

“I would certainly enjoy the demonstration. In my lands we had little use for a lance, because it was a fearfully heavy weapon and you usually only got one pass out of it before it broke. On horseback we prefer to use short bows to enhance our cavalry.” I commented before standing back to allow the knight a clear path to the target. The knight grinned broadly and began to laugh.

“Ah, then you hath ne’er witnessed the art of the Steppe!” He guided his pony back to the start line in the distance, and then with a firm kick, sets the black steed racing towards the practice dummy. The point of lance stayed steady, until it drove into the head of the dummy. The lance bent into a bowed arc, and then snapped back into shape with devastating force, sending the head sailing a good fifty feet. the knight brought his pony around, and sits there, lance upraised, with a very self-satisfied expression on his rodential face.

“You are very skilled with that weapon Sir Knight, but what about when it breaks? Then you will be restricted to the length of your sword.” The knight scoffed

“Didst thee not see? This lance hast ne’er broken! It will bend like a willow and then spring back, flinging the enemy from their steed’s back!”

“I think I understand now Sir Knight, personally I now make use of an atlatl and a spear-dart if I want to hit someone at long range. However, I am most comfortable with my swords.” The knight slid his lance into a bucket at the end of the tilt.

“I hath watched thee with thy swords, both here and at the festival and noted that thee are most skilled with them. I couldst stand a little practice, if thou wouldst not mind a partner.”

“Not at all Sir Knight. I feel that coming up against a skilled opponent is often the best way to increase one’s own skills.” He hitched his pony to the tilt and dismounted.

“Then I shalt gladly cross swords with thee, Adòn!” I smiled slowly, sheathed the swords that I held in my hands before I went over to my two practice swords that I had laid on the ground earlier and said

“Sir Knight perhaps we should use practice blades, because I fear that my own weapons are far too dangerous to spar with, lest I accidentally kill or wound you with them.” The simple reason for my precautions was simply because my blades were lethally sharp, they weren’t designed for use in a practice situation. The knight appeared to ponder my suggestion for a moment before he nodded

“While my pride doth tell me that thou wouldst ne’er touch a strand of fur on my body, if thou dost disarm thyself, then ‘tis improper for me not to do the same. Practice swords it shalt be then.” I nodded slowly and then did something that I didn’t normally do. I unbuckled my heavy swordbelt and double baldric before I took them off and laid them down on the ground near the post that the knigh had tied his pony to. Now that I was suitably disarmed, I picked up the larger of my two practice swords and hefted it carefully in my right hand. The knight gazed at the second. “I fear that sword be too large for me.”

“Do you possess a practice weapon that is scaled for your size Sir Knight?”

“Aye, but I didst not bring it with me.” He furrowed his brow, and then smiled. “There wilt be on in yonder armoury. I shalt return.”

“I shall await your return Sir Knight.” I replied before I went through a standard set of Kelmar limbering exercises. Sir Saulius returned a few minutes later with a practice sword suitable to his small stature. He stopped near me and then waited while I finished the current set of exercises. As soon as I was finished the exercises I turned to face him. I brought the cross-trees of the hilt up to my face in salute before I brought the weapon up to my favorite guard position. This position required me to hold the weapon vertically over my head with both arms. It allowed me to bring the blade down to parry a blow and return with a healthy riposte. The knight returned my salute, then held his blade before him with both paws. I could see that he was studying me as he began to circle around to the right. I was also regarding him as I moved in the same direction. I had to concede that this rat knew what he was doing. Mind you I had met knights before in combat, generally they were the most dangerous enemies that I had ever faced. Though there were one or two mercenaries that had given me a run for my money. We both continued to circle, watching each other with concentration on our faces looking for the first move. Finally I swung my own weapon down and to the right, I only used a very small part of my strength because I had no desire to harm the knight, I knew that I could probably knock his arm off, even with this weapon. he dodged to the left, and closed in on me, close enough for him to swing his short sword straight at my thighs. I unconsciously jumped up and to my left over the swinging blade of his weapon. “That was a canny move Sir Knight.” I made a point to land beside my other practice sword. I dropped the larger weapon and scooped up the smaller one as he replied, while he settled into a new guard position with his thin hairless tail settling behind him

“I hath had to learn to use my size in a new way.”

“Yes it appears that you have. Though I have only been in this form for a short time I’ve been growing use to it. Most of the time I let my training tell me what to do, but there are times when that fails and I must rely on instinct. Trust me sparing with you is good practice considering that I have to confront lutins when I go out on patrol. I hope that you aren’t insulted Sir Saulius, but you are just about as tall as those dumb little monsters.” he laughed and his eyes indicated approval as I took a new low guard position with my lighter quicker sword.

“They dost hew most easily”

“They definitely do, I’ve killed my fare share of the bloody things, but they keep coming back for more.” He as he said that he reversed the direction that he was circling, getting closer to me, giving me a quick thrust, which I parried with my own weapon. The next several seconds we test each other’s skills and found we both were quite reasonable swordsmen. His speed and quickness belied the chain mail armour that he wore over his body. After a few more exchanges like that one we both got in a good hit. His connected across the enameled plates that covered my belly while my own blow hit his right shoulder. He grounded his weapon looking at me before he commented

“Thou art a most astute student of the sword Adòn. I commend thee on thine abilities.”

“I can say the same about you Sir Knight, you have a most complete understanding of how to use your body and your swords to your advantage. I on the other hand still have something to learn about how to use my sword to the best of my abilities with my new body. After all no Kelmar who claims to be a Swordmaster of the Black should be that easy to hit, and yet you were capable of hitting me with appearant ease.”

“Thou shouldst not disparage thy skill. Thou hast only just changed in the past month. ‘Twill take thee more time to adjust to thy new form.”

“I believe that you speak the truth Sir Knight. It is just that I don’t usually have to deal with people who’ve equaled me at my own trade.” The rat lowered his sword and then extended his paw out to me

“Then I wilt offer my paw in comradeship. Thou art a fellow warrior, e’en if thou not be a knight. Thou has no need to worry over thy pride because of this day.” I grounded my own weapon and then reached out with my own huge hand-paw to shake his own. This was were the contrast in our sizes was most clearly illistrated. My massive hand engulfed his own as I said

“I thank you Sir Knight for that lesson in swordsmanship and I will try and learn the lessons that are implied in it.” The rat knight’s eyes went a bit wide as his ow paw vanished in my own fingers, but he laughed heartily.

“Thou art most welcome, Adòn. I wilt be journeying to Glen Avery in a little over a week. Until then, I wouldst enjoy crossing blades with thee whene’er thee wishes.”

“Unfortunately I have to go out on patrol tomorrow. The squad that they’ve assigned me to isn’t all that competent, so I fear that if we encounter any lutins I will be the only one who will make a decent showing of it.” The knight chittered and shook his head

“Do not discount what bravery alone canst accomplish.”

“It’s just that I don’t like seeing people die when there is no need for them to do so. I have seen far too much of that over the long years of my career as a warrior. If the leader of the squad would only listen to me, the voice of experience, then maybe we might have a chance, but she doesn’t so I have to do the best that I can to save the rest of the patrol from her own follies.” He frowned, but he did say,

“Then do the best that thou canst. Eli be with thee.”

“I will do that good Sir. Though I wonder at the wisdom of putting me with one of the worst squads in the Keep. All the same may Săvnator guide your footsteps.” Saulius narrowed his eyes, probably at the name of my god, but said nothing. He wished me well and then went over and mounted his black pony and headed over to the keep.

I practiced for several more hours until I was confident that I was properly prepared for the next day. With my training for the day finished I spend more time up in the library with Mael-Murie as she tried to teach me how to read the common tongue better than I currently did. I could speak common fairly well but when it came to reading and writing it I was still very bad at it. The main problem with my script was the fact that most of it still resembled Kelmar Runes in shape. As I sat beside her struggling through the book that I was reading she said

“How can you just sit by yourself all alone all of the time?”

“I’m used to it ma’am. You have to remember that I’ve been a mercenary for the past thirty years. If you work on a battlefield long enough you learn that to create friendships is to experience pain and hardship.”

“Well now that you’re at the keep you can start opening up a little bit.”

“I’m afraid I just can’t do that anymore.” She looked into my eyes

“Why not Adòn you can’t go through your life all alone.”

“Trust me I can go through my life alone. It is definitely better than the alternative.” She shook her head in a manner that I thought of as pity as I closed the heavy leather bound book and replied “This is where I leave the room and go down to my apartment where I can meditate on my patrol tomorrow.” With that said I headed down to my room where I could go down to my room. Once I was there I pulled off all of my heavy equipment and went into my forge where I could work on something, I had yet to know what I was going to work on.

Four hours later I was looking into the glowing heart of the furnace where a piece of thin strong steel was glowing bright yellow. I used a pair of tongs to pull the piece of metal out of the furnace, laid it on the anvil and began to beat on it with one of my hammers, sending showers of white hot sparks flying all over the room. I was protected by a heavy leather apron as I continued to beat on the steel with steady rhythmic blows of the hammer. When the metal cooled to the point where it was red I finally realized what I was making. I picked the metal piece and trust it into the trough of water, sending up rank, hot clouds of steam as the metal cooled rapidly. When the metal had turned cool and dark I pulled it out of the tub and thrust it back into the furnace. When the metal was hot again I pulled it out and placed it on the anvil. Only this time I didn’t beat on it, I wanted it to cool down slowly so that it wouldn’t be brittle and break when it was put under strain. With that done I had to go down in to Euper to see if I could find the right wood for my purpose. I was eventually forced to pay two garrets for a six foot long yew stave that had been harvested in the forests near the city of Saildon some ten years ago. In other words this stave was perfectly aged for my intended purpose. I also had to go to the butcher’s shop where I managed to pick up a bucket of sinew, which I would later use to put the other parts of this weapon that I was making together.

I didn’t have any more time to work on my weapons by the time I got back to my apartment, so I went had supper, then returned to my room where I turned in early, since I would probably be getting up early in the morning. Being based on a cat had its advantages, I could get to sleep at just about any point in the day, and I could wake up just as quickly. When the alarm on my desk clock started to ding at me I had to get up and go over and press the lever to turn it off. The quality of the light coming through the window told me that today would be pretty miserable, rain and lots of it. I shook my head slowly at the thought, even though I was based on a cat that really didn’t seem to mind water all that much, I still didn’t like getting rained on. I carefully began pulling on my equipment, making that everything was properly placed. I had to dip into my chest to come up with one of three cloaks that I possessed that were enchanted with a water-proofing spell. The final item that I grabbed was the shield that I had won the other day at the festival. I glanced at the clock, and noticed that I was running a little behind, the caravan that my squad was guarding was supposed to be leaving at seven thirty in the morning and it was already six forty-five, that barely gave me enough time to get breakfast. I quickly rushed out of the room, cloak billowing in the wind of my passage, locked the door, and headed down the hall towards my usual mess facility. I was considering what I would have to deal with today when, Clunk, Thud! I was hit in the head by the thrice cursed Snow’s Tinsmithy sign. I had been hitting my head on this same sign, every day for the past month and I had usually growled curses at it, but for some reason today was different and I grabbed the offending object with both hands with a snarl and pulled down on it. The pins that held the sign and its support frame to the wall squalled in protest as I wrenched it out of the wall. As soon as the gods blasted object was free in my hand I threw it down the corridor and headed on my way towards the mess hall. At least now my head was safe from that sign.

I arrived in the yard where the caravan was gathering and the rest of the squad was waiting exactly on time. I was in fact still munching on beef joint as I arrived, my hood pulled up to protect myself from the dismal rain that was falling out of the sky. Barb looked at me, shook her head before saying

“Today we’re going to be escorting this caravan as far as the edge of the valley. Recently numerous caravans have come under attack by a group of bandits along the road to the Midlands. At least one of you knows what I am referring to. With any luck these cowards will show themselves and we will get to give them a taste of Metamorian Justice.” I kept my face straight while she said the last line, even though on the inside I was laughing. The only people who should be afraid of this squad was perhaps the caravan guards. I looked over at them and then recognized one of the guards. He had served as my second in command. He was a reasonably good soldier, if a little unimaginative, but all the same he had saved my bacon back more than a month ago.

“Tallis is that you?” I shouted out to him. He turned and looked around before he finally spotted me standing with the Metamorians. He looked me up and down and then saw the small medallion that rested at the center of my double baldric.

“Adòn Naharél is that really you?”

“Tallis Von Shrenk you should know better than to come out to this place, didn’t the last trip out here teach you that much?”

“I’m a stubborn man Adòn, you should know that by now. But I should be asking you, why did you end up staying here.” I laughed slowly before I replied

“I would’ve left if I hadn’t already been here too bloody long when I awoke Tallis. I was gaining these black and white stripes on my skin when I finally did wake up.”

“That should teach you to wear your helmet next time Adòn.”

“Don’t you know it Tallis.” We both laughed over that comment before Barbara shouted

“Enough fraternizing with the outsiders Adòn we have to get this caravan moving.” I nodded slowly and made my way to a position on the point, in front of the caravan. I really didn’t like the point, but under the current circumstances I was probably the best person for the job, considering the fact that I had more training and experience than the rest of the squad put together.

I believe that it was two days later when we were about to send the caravan off on its own when we were ambushed, it was the same group of rocks where I had received my head wound just over a month ago. This time however I was wearing a my helmet, and I had my shield strapped to my left arm. As the first arrows arched up into the sky, Daniel grabbed his bow and began to fire arrows into the rocks. I dashed over to him just in time to shelter him with my shield as four arrows arched down to hit him.

“Find some cover.” I growled to him before I stood up and batted aside another arrow with the shield. This thing was definitely coming in handy. I was glad that it had been the prize for winning the contest at the festival. I even found that it was handy enough to allow me to hold onto spear-darts as I set them in the atlatl so that I could fire them at any one of our ambushers as they exposed themselves in order to fire their own bows.

“Kill the freaks first. Eli wills it!” Shouted out a very familiar voice. That voice triggered something in me that I hadn’t used in more than a decade. I roared out a reply and then dropped the atlatl on the ground, ripped my long-sword out of its scabbard and jumped up into the rocks with an ease that surprised me. I just barely remember catching a blow from an ill-made sword on the shield before I batted the blow aside and countered with a blow of my own that sprayed blood and viscera everywhere. The rest of the assault that I made was in a haze of red vision as I charged through the ranks of our ambushers until I came upon the owner of the voice that had shouted out earlier on. He was holding a well made great-sword in his hands almost as if daring me to attack him. On the chest of his tattered talbard was something that I also recognized the gold cross of a Paladin Knight of the Ecclesia. However I had seen that there was at least one of these knights at the Keep so this man was probably a fanatic, the kind of person I really didn’t like very much. I had previously had several run ins with religious hysterics and I disliked all of them. In my mind religious hysteria was a form of madness that only had one cure. As our swords came together I realized that though this man was a hysteric he was also very well trained in the art of the sword. However, under the current circumstances I had the upper hand because I was under the influence of the Blood Rage. It was a very rare capability among Kelmar that gave the warrior who possessed it a limited period of enhanced strength, speed, and capability at a cost. That cost was that when the rage ran its course the warrior would be left almost helpless as the fatigue of using it drained his mind and body of almost all energy. however, for the time being I was able to wield my long-sword with the speed and dexterity of a short-sword or a rapier, using the shield to catch the renegade knight’s own strikes against me I dexterously peeled his plate armour away from his body with skillful blows from my own weapon. As we fought he grew more and more desperate as he realized the depth of his problems. But, I was also beginning to tire, and I could feel the strength and capability that the Blood Rage had brought me slowly ebbing away like a tide on the retreat. With my last reserves of strength and speed I unleashed a powerful blow at the renegade’s ankles breaking both of them before I whipped the sword up to break both of his exposed shoulders. This way the knight would face a trial, and almost certain death at the Keep for preying on local caravans. Once he was on the ground I managed to walk far enough away from him before I dropped my own weapon and collapsed on the ground. Just before I passed out Daniel appeared in my vision

“Are you ok Adòn?” I managed to nod before I spat out a couple of words

“When I wake up make sure that there is some food there, I’ll be ravenously hungry.” With that said I passed out.

I wasn’t really sure how long it had been when I woke up in my own tent but I was comfortable. I quickly sat up and looked around before I smelled the odour of freshly cooked meat. At that moment my stomach growled at me almost as if in a reminder of what I had done earlier. Without even bothering to put anything on I scrambled out of the tent and headed straight for the fire where Barbara and Hernado were turning a haunch of meat on a spit. I grabbed the spit from the fire and sank my fangs into the meat ripping it apart with an overpowering hunger. I polished off the cooked meat in short order and looked over to find Daniel sitting proudly by a large hanging carcass, that he must’ve brought down with that bow that he carried. The kid was definitely getting better with that weapon, but right now that wasn’t really something that I was all that concerned about.

Some time later when I had managed to gain control of myself, my stomach was groaning with the amount that I had eaten, I listened while Barbara berated me on my actions. This woman was beginning to get on my nerves with her constant carping on my perceived faults. She claimed that I was insubordinate, reckless, and a danger to the rest of the squad. Finally when she asked me if I had anything to say in my defense I fixed her with a glare before I responded by telling her

“Ma’am with all due respect,” Though I didn’t really believe that she deserved my respect “, you are perhaps the worst commander that I’ve ever had the displeasure of serving under in my fifty-five years of combat. You don’t listen to my advice on matters which I know more than you do and you don’t heed what I say when it could save your life.” She looked at me arrogantly

“You have no conception of the differences and difficulties that we face here in the Valley.”

“I understand better than you are led to believe ma’am. I’ve fought those little monsters to the north and I can tell you that I’m glad that we haven’t been sent out there with the training that you currently possess. This little squad would get eaten alive.” With that said I left her spluttering in indignation at my comments as I dragged my sore feline tail back to my tent where I could get some more rest.

Two days later when we arrived at the Keep, the renegade knight was tied to a stretcher that Hernando and I had been forced to carry, since we were the largest members of the squad, we were met by a group of soldiers who took our burden from us. Once we were relieved of our burden Barbara came up to me and said

“You are on report for insubordination, reckless behavior, and negligence. I want to see you in George’s office tomorrow at eight-o-clock sharp.” I simply nodded in acquiescence before I headed back to my room where I could get out of my things and go have a bath. However when I reached my room I found a slip of paper from someone slid under the door

:'''''Adòn Naharél I believe that we would prefer to keep things here civil so I have yet to bring the Watch into this matter. You have destroyed my sign and as such I would like to speak to you about it. The sign needs to be replaced, how else am I supposed to get business? If we can’t keep this civil that I will be forced to bring the watch into this matter'''''
:'''''Drift; Edward Snow'''''

I guess that I couldn’t get away from that and I would have to deal with it as soon as I finished my bath but that was something that I could take care of afterwards. I just hoped that the white Samoyed morph would treat me with more respect that Barbara had.

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The Bandit King

2017-07-07T17:46:24Z

Lem: Corrected typos

[[Category:Story]] [[Category:Animal]]
{{DEFAULTSORT: Bandit King, The}}
[[Category:Metamor Keep]]
[[Category:Oberon]]
{{editing requested}}{{universe|Metamor Keep}}

By: [[User:Oberon|Oberon]]

I sat up out of my bed and thought about what I had been forced to do over the past few days at the Deaf Mule. I had been, as a form of penance for getting into a bar brawl on the first day of the Equinox Festival, washing dishes at the Deaf Mule. Tomorrow though I had to go out on patrol with the team of incompetents that I had been assigned to. Therefore today I had to spend some time practicing down in the practice field to ensure that my edge hadn't been dulled. I looked over at the clock ticking on my desk beside my sheaf of papers that I had written my journals on. I slowly pulled myself out of my bed and went over to the window and looked out over the inner ward of the Keep. I didn’t mind living here in the Keep but it was so restricted when compared with my old life. I had been a mercenary for more years than most people could believe and now I was stuck here at the Keep because of what I looked like. Don’t get me wrong I liked what I now resembled but it doomed me to spend the rest of my long life here in one part of the world. After several more minutes of standing at the window I turned and got dressed in my simplest clothing before I grabbed a towel and made my way down to the baths. There were a few people in the baths but by in large they kept to themselves. One person I did recognize was the dark raccoon swordsman that I had faced a few days before in the swordsmanship contest at the festival. Though I recognized him I didn’t go over to him because I preferred to keep to myself. That was just the kind of person that I was, I had been this way for a lot longer than most people had been alive.

Some hours after breakfast I headed down to the practice ground in full battle array with both real swords as well as practice swords in case someone wanted to spar with me. Once I reached the ground I found went over to where the archers were busying themselves by shooting arrows at the straw butts in that were lined up against the wall. I pulled my atlatl out of its position beside the quiver and nocked a spear-dart before I looked down range at my target before I tossed the small spear with only as much force as I needed for it to reach the target . I repeated the operation four times and then waited while the archers finished firing arrows at the targets before I walked down towards my target to check my aim. I was satisfied by the results because the four darts were each embedded in the target all within half an inch of the bull’s-eye. That was good acuracy given the fact that I wasn’t firing these thing from their maximum range. I practiced at the range for more than half an hour before I found myself a open space in the practice ground where I pulled out my swords and began to practice my forms with both blades weaving a singing net of steel around my body. In the past month since my body had changed I had grown used to wielding swords around my body even with my enhanced size, altered feet, and four and a half foot long tail. I was halfway through my favorite forms with my swords where I noticed something unusual from the corner of my eye. Riding upon a black pony and dressed in chain mail, bearing a sword at his side, and a lance tucked underneath one arm, was what appeared to be a rodent of some variety. The pony stamped his hooves with regal bearing, and the rider, he looked like a knight of the Midlands, watched me with clear intelligent eyes. Then, rider and steed approached when I grounded both of my weapons, stomping just beyond my reach. Tilting his head to one side, long whiskers twitching as he spoke with a strange accent

“Pardon me, fine warrior, but wouldst thou consent to sharing this field? My steed hath need of a run, and I hath a need to practice my skills with lance upon yon enemy.” With a paw-like hand the knight indicated a practice post with arms that swiveled and a head that would snap free if hit hard enough. I had at first contemplating using the target but I had quickly realized that if I were to use it like a target in my homeland I would quickly reduce the post to kindling in very short order indeed. After a second I replied with as much dignity as I could muster in the face of this knight

“Certainly good Knight, I have seen your kind before on many a field of battle and I know that you answer the call of honour like I do.” I knew that knights of the Midlands were excellent warriors who could handle themselves very well on the field. They were people that I treated with a great deal of respect. The knight nodded his head in gratitude. I noted that this rodent, a rat I think, was as tall as I was while he was astride his pony. In the Kelmar Clanlands there were men of many different sizes, but to see a warrior that was sitting astride a horse and yet wasn’t any taller than I was standing on my own two feet was quite surprising. “You aren’t all that big for a warrior Sir Knight.” I commented before I could reign in my traitorous tongue. His whiskers twitched as he smiled and replied

“Tis not a warrior’s size that determines his skills.” I nodded my head slowly

“I apologize for that errant comment. I’ve learned that much over the past fifty five years that I’ve spent as a warrior.” His eyes widened

“Fifty five years?” Ah, thou has been touched by two natures of Metamor’s curse.”

“No the reason that I appear to you like this is because I am a Kelmar Warrior and my people seem to live much longer than the people in the Midlands.” The pony on which the rat was mounted stamped his fore hooves and the knight patted him to soothe him before he said

“Kelmar? Where dost that be? Ach! Forgive this knight a most grievous breach in ettiquette! I high Sir Erick Saulius, a knight of the Flatlands who hast found a new home at Metamor. And who be thee, warrior of Kelmar?”

“My name is Adòn Naharél Sahnat’Haudörn of the Sundering Stone Clan, though my clan has been dead for thirty years.” The knight frowned and then shook his head

“I hath ne’er heard of Kelmar, nor thy clan, Adòn. Forgive my ignorance. Dost it lay perchance across the mountains?”

“No Sir Knight, lies far to the west over an ocean, where none of you kind have ever ventured.” His frown does not leave instead, he sat straighter in his saddle,

“So what hast brought thee to Metamor.”

“I was a mercenary, I was guarding a caravan of goods bound for the Keep. The caravan was ambushed by bandits, just outside of the demesnes of the Keep and I was badly wounded. So my comrades from the caravan left me here at the Keep when they left for the Midlands to escape the curse of the Keep.” He nodded sagely

“A great many hath fallen to the same fate as thou hast. And e’en the greatest warrior can be brought low by a stray arrow or blade.”

“In this case it was a giant of a man who bore a massive axe. I had just killed him with a stroke of my short sword. He dropped his ungainly hunk of crude metal on my bare head and knocked me clean into the next week.”

“Then thou wert fortunate not to be killed!”

“Yes indeed, but I remained in the infirmary for more than two weeks. It was probably all that I deserved, not putting on my helmet before engaging an enemy is just plain stupid.” The rat rubbed his own head, as he is not wearing a helmet either

“I hath come for practice only, but thou art correct. When in battle if thou wilt not protect that which keeps thee alive, then tho art courting death.”

“The problem with my helmet at the time, was the fact that it obstructed my vision and disrupted my aim with a bow and arrow, so I didn’t put it on. I paid the price for that little slip up, almost with my life. What I really wish, was that there was a helmet that wouldn’t reduce my vision, and yet would still protect my head.” The knight smiled

“Ah, then thou must speak to DeMule. He wilt find thee a helmet that wilt do as thee wishes. I didst take my armour to the smithy when I didst arrive, that it might fit my new form.”

“I don’t use a bow anymore anyways because my claws do fearful damage to the string.” I demonstrated this fact by extending the five claws on my right hand.

“Ah, I canst see that.” He said his eyes going wide once more. He hefted his lance and nodded to the target dummy. “I hath watched thee practice, perhaps thou wilt watch me?”

“I would certainly enjoy the demonstration. In my lands we had little use for a lance, because it was a fearfully heavy weapon and you usually only got one pass out of it before it broke. On horseback we prefer to use short bows to enhance our cavalry.” I commented before standing back to allow the knight a clear path to the target. The knight grinned broadly and began to laugh.

“Ah, then you hath ne’er witnessed the art of the Steppe!” He guided his pony back to the start line in the distance, and then with a firm kick, sets the black steed racing towards the practice dummy. The point of lance stayed steady, until it drove into the head of the dummy. The lance bent into a bowed arc, and then snapped back into shape with devastating force, sending the head sailing a good fifty feet. the knight brought his pony around, and sits there, lance upraised, with a very self-satisfied expression on his rodential face.

“You are very skilled with that weapon Sir Knight, but what about when it breaks? Then you will be restricted to the length of your sword.” The knight scoffed

“Didst thee not see? This lance hast ne’er broken! It will bend like a willow and then spring back, flinging the enemy from their steed’s back!”

“I think I understand now Sir Knight, personally I now make use of an atlatl and a spear-dart if I want to hit someone at long range. However, I am most comfortable with my swords.” The knight slid his lance into a bucket at the end of the tilt.

“I hath watched thee with thy swords, both here and at the festival and noted that thee are most skilled with them. I couldst stand a little practice, if thou wouldst not mind a partner.”

“Not at all Sir Knight. I feel that coming up against a skilled opponent is often the best way to increase one’s own skills.” He hitched his pony to the tilt and dismounted.

“Then I shalt gladly cross swords with thee, Adòn!” I smiled slowly, sheathed the swords that I held in my hands before I went over to my two practice swords that I had laid on the ground earlier and said

“Sir Knight perhaps we should use practice blades, because I fear that my own weapons are far too dangerous to spar with, lest I accidentally kill or wound you with them.” The simple reason for my precautions was simply because my blades were lethally sharp, they weren’t designed for use in a practice situation. The knight appeared to ponder my suggestion for a moment before he nodded

“While my pride doth tell me that thou wouldst ne’er touch a strand of fur on my body, if thou dost disarm thyself, then ‘tis improper for me not to do the same. Practice swords it shalt be then.” I nodded slowly and then did something that I didn’t normally do. I unbuckled my heavy swordbelt and double baldric before I took them off and laid them down on the ground near the post that the knigh had tied his pony to. Now that I was suitably disarmed, I picked up the larger of my two practice swords and hefted it carefully in my right hand. The knight gazed at the second. “I fear that sword be too large for me.”

“Do you possess a practice weapon that is scaled for your size Sir Knight?”

“Aye, but I didst not bring it with me.” He furrowed his brow, and then smiled. “There wilt be on in yonder armoury. I shalt return.”

“I shall await your return Sir Knight.” I replied before I went through a standard set of Kelmar limbering exercises. Sir Saulius returned a few minutes later with a practice sword suitable to his small stature. He stopped near me and then waited while I finished the current set of exercises. As soon as I was finished the exercises I turned to face him. I brought the cross-trees of the hilt up to my face in salute before I brought the weapon up to my favorite guard position. This position required me to hold the weapon vertically over my head with both arms. It allowed me to bring the blade down to parry a blow and return with a healthy riposte. The knight returned my salute, then held his blade before him with both paws. I could see that he was studying me as he began to circle around to the right. I was also regarding him as I moved in the same direction. I had to concede that this rat knew what he was doing. Mind you I had met knights before in combat, generally they were the most dangerous enemies that I had ever faced. Though there were one or two mercenaries that had given me a run for my money. We both continued to circle, watching each other with concentration on our faces looking for the first move. Finally I swung my own weapon down and to the right, I only used a very small part of my strength because I had no desire to harm the knight, I knew that I could probably knock his arm off, even with this weapon. he dodged to the left, and closed in on me, close enough for him to swing his short sword straight at my thighs. I unconsciously jumped up and to my left over the swinging blade of his weapon. “That was a canny move Sir Knight.” I made a point to land beside my other practice sword. I dropped the larger weapon and scooped up the smaller one as he replied, while he settled into a new guard position with his thin hairless tail settling behind him

“I hath had to learn to use my size in a new way.”

“Yes it appears that you have. Though I have only been in this form for a short time I’ve been growing use to it. Most of the time I let my training tell me what to do, but there are times when that fails and I must rely on instinct. Trust me sparing with you is good practice considering that I have to confront lutins when I go out on patrol. I hope that you aren’t insulted Sir Saulius, but you are just about as tall as those dumb little monsters.” he laughed and his eyes indicated approval as I took a new low guard position with my lighter quicker sword.

“They dost hew most easily”

“They definitely do, I’ve killed my fare share of the bloody things, but they keep coming back for more.” He as he said that he reversed the direction that he was circling, getting closer to me, giving me a quick thrust, which I parried with my own weapon. The next several seconds we test each other’s skills and found we both were quite reasonable swordsmen. His speed and quickness belied the chain mail armour that he wore over his body. After a few more exchanges like that one we both got in a good hit. His connected across the enameled plates that covered my belly while my own blow hit his right shoulder. He grounded his weapon looking at me before he commented

“Thou art a most astute student of the sword Adòn. I commend thee on thine abilities.”

“I can say the same about you Sir Knight, you have a most complete understanding of how to use your body and your swords to your advantage. I on the other hand still have something to learn about how to use my sword to the best of my abilities with my new body. After all no Kelmar who claims to be a Swordmaster of the Black should be that easy to hit, and yet you were capable of hitting me with appearant ease.”

“Thou shouldst not disparage thy skill. Thou hast only just changed in the past month. ‘Twill take thee more time to adjust to thy new form.”

“I believe that you speak the truth Sir Knight. It is just that I don’t usually have to deal with people who’ve equaled me at my own trade.” The rat lowered his sword and then extended his paw out to me

“Then I wilt offer my paw in comradeship. Thou art a fellow warrior, e’en if thou not be a knight. Thou has no need to worry over thy pride because of this day.” I grounded my own weapon and then reached out with my own huge hand-paw to shake his own. This was were the contrast in our sizes was most clearly illistrated. My massive hand engulfed his own as I said

“I thank you Sir Knight for that lesson in swordsmanship and I will try and learn the lessons that are implied in it.” The rat knight’s eyes went a bit wide as his ow paw vanished in my own fingers, but he laughed heartily.

“Thou art most welcome, Adòn. I wilt be journeying to Glen Avery in a little over a week. Until then, I wouldst enjoy crossing blades with thee whene’er thee wishes.”

“Unfortunately I have to go out on patrol tomorrow. The squad that they’ve assigned me to isn’t all that competent, so I fear that if we encounter any lutins I will be the only one who will make a decent showing of it.” The knight chittered and shook his head

“Do not discount what bravery alone canst accomplish.”

“It’s just that I don’t like seeing people die when there is no need for them to do so. I have seen far too much of that over the long years of my career as a warrior. If the leader of the squad would only listen to me, the voice of experience, then maybe we might have a chance, but she doesn’t so I have to do the best that I can to save the rest of the patrol from her own follies.” He frowned, but he did say,

“Then do the best that thou canst. Eli be with thee.”

“I will do that good Sir. Though I wonder at the wisdom of putting me with one of the worst squads in the Keep. All the same may Săvnator guide your footsteps.” Saulius narrowed his eyes, probably at the name of my god, but said nothing. He wished me well and then went over and mounted his black pony and headed over to the keep.

I practiced for several more hours until I was confident that I was properly prepared for the next day. With my training for the day finished I spend more time up in the library with Mael-Murie as she tried to teach me how to read the common tongue better than I currently did. I could speak common fairly well but when it came to reading and writing it I was still very bad at it. The main problem with my script was the fact that most of it still resembled Kelmar Runes in shape. As I sat beside her struggling through the book that I was reading she said

“How can you just sit by yourself all alone all of the time?”

“I’m used to it ma’am. You have to remember that I’ve been a mercenary for the past thirty years. If you work on a battlefield long enough you learn that to create friendships is to experience pain and hardship.”

“Well now that you’re at the keep you can start opening up a little bit.”

“I’m afraid I just can’t do that anymore.” She looked into my eyes

“Why not Adòn you can’t go through your life all alone.”

“Trust me I can go through my life alone. It is definitely better than the alternative.” She shook her head in a manner that I thought of as pity as I closed the heavy leather bound book and replied “This is where I leave the room and go down to my apartment where I can meditate on my patrol tomorrow.” With that said I headed down to my room where I could go down to my room. Once I was there I pulled off all of my heavy equipment and went into my forge where I could work on something, I had yet to know what I was going to work on.

Four hours later I was looking into the glowing heart of the furnace where a piece of thin strong steel was glowing bright yellow. I used a pair of tongs to pull the piece of metal out of the furnace, laid it on the anvil and began to beat on it with one of my hammers, sending showers of white hot sparks flying all over the room. I was protected by a heavy leather apron as I continued to beat on the steel with steady rhythmic blows of the hammer. When the metal cooled to the point where it was red I finally realized what I was making. I picked the metal piece and trust it into the trough of water, sending up rank, hot clouds of steam as the metal cooled rapidly. When the metal had turned cool and dark I pulled it out of the tub and thrust it back into the furnace. When the metal was hot again I pulled it out and placed it on the anvil. Only this time I didn’t beat on it, I wanted it to cool down slowly so that it wouldn’t be brittle and break when it was put under strain. With that done I had to go down in to Euper to see if I could find the right wood for my purpose. I was eventually forced to pay two garrets for a six foot long yew stave that had been harvested in the forests near the city of Saildon some ten years ago. In other words this stave was perfectly aged for my intended purpose. I also had to go to the butcher’s shop where I managed to pick up a bucket of sinew, which I would later use to put the other parts of this weapon that I was making together.

I didn’t have any more time to work on my weapons by the time I got back to my apartment, so I went had supper, then returned to my room where I turned in early, since I would probably be getting up early in the morning. Being based on a cat had its advantages, I could get to sleep at just about any point in the day, and I could wake up just as quickly. When the alarm on my desk clock started to ding at me I had to get up and go over and press the lever to turn it off. The quality of the light coming through the window told me that today would be pretty miserable, rain and lots of it. I shook my head slowly at the thought, even though I was based on a cat that really didn’t seem to mind water all that much, I still didn’t like getting rained on. I carefully began pulling on my equipment, making that everything was properly placed. I had to dip into my chest to come up with one of three cloaks that I possessed that were enchanted with a water-proofing spell. The final item that I grabbed was the shield that I had won the other day at the festival. I glanced at the clock, and noticed that I was running a little behind, the caravan that my squad was guarding was supposed to be leaving at seven thirty in the morning and it was already six forty-five, that barely gave me enough time to get breakfast. I quickly rushed out of the room, cloak billowing in the wind of my passage, locked the door, and headed down the hall towards my usual mess facility. I was considering what I would have to deal with today when, Clunk, Thud! I was hit in the head by the thrice cursed Snow’s Tinsmithy sign. I had been hitting my head on this same sign, every day for the past month and I had usually growled curses at it, but for some reason today was different and I grabbed the offending object with both hands with a snarl and pulled down on it. The pins that held the sign and its support frame to the wall squalled in protest as I wrenched it out of the wall. As soon as the gods blasted object was free in my hand I threw it down the corridor and headed on my way towards the mess hall. At least now my head was safe from that sign.

I arrived in the yard where the caravan was gathering and the rest of the squad was waiting exactly on time. I was in fact still munching on beef joint as I arrived, my hood pulled up to protect myself from the dismal rain that was falling out of the sky. Barb looked at me, shook her head before saying

“Today we’re going to be escorting this caravan as far as the edge of the valley. Recently numerous caravans have come under attack by a group of bandits along the road to the Midlands. At least one of you knows what I am referring to. With any luck these cowards will show themselves and we will get to give them a taste of Metamorian Justice.” I kept my face straight while she said the last line, even though on the inside I was laughing. The only people who should be afraid of this squad was perhaps the caravan guards. I looked over at them and then recognized one of the guards. He had served as my second in command. He was a reasonably good soldier, if a little unimaginative, but all the same he had saved my bacon back more than a month ago.

“Tallis is that you?” I shouted out to him. He turned and looked around before he finally spotted me standing with the Metamorians. He looked me up and down and then saw the small medallion that rested at the center of my double baldric.

“Adòn Naharél is that really you?”

“Tallis Von Shrenk you should know better than to come out to this place, didn’t the last trip out here teach you that much?”

“I’m a stubborn man Adòn, you should know that by now. But I should be asking you, why did you end up staying here.” I laughed slowly before I replied

“I would’ve left if I hadn’t already been here too bloody long when I awoke Tallis. I was gaining these black and white stripes on my skin when I finally did wake up.”

“That should teach you to wear your helmet next time Adòn.”

“Don’t you know it Tallis.” We both laughed over that comment before Barbara shouted

“Enough fraternizing with the outsiders Adòn we have to get this caravan moving.” I nodded slowly and made my way to a position on the point, in front of the caravan. I really didn’t like the point, but under the current circumstances I was probably the best person for the job, considering the fact that I had more training and experience than the rest of the squad put together.

I believe that it was two days later when we were about to send the caravan off on its own when we were ambushed, it was the same group of rocks where I had received my head wound just over a month ago. This time however I was wearing a my helmet, and I had my shield strapped to my left arm. As the first arrows arched up into the sky, Daniel grabbed his bow and began to fire arrows into the rocks. I dashed over to him just in time to shelter him with my shield as four arrows arched down to hit him.

“Find some cover.” I growled to him before I stood up and batted aside another arrow with the shield. This thing was definitely coming in handy. I was glad that it had been the prize for winning the contest at the festival. I even found that it was handy enough to allow me to hold onto spear-darts as I set them in the atlatl so that I could fire them at any one of our ambushers as they exposed themselves in order to fire their own bows.

“Kill the freaks first. Eli wills it!” Shouted out a very familiar voice. That voice triggered something in me that I hadn’t used in more than a decade. I roared out a reply and then dropped the atlatl on the ground, ripped my long-sword out of its scabbard and jumped up into the rocks with an ease that surprised me. I just barely remember catching a blow from an ill-made sword on the shield before I batted the blow aside and countered with a blow of my own that sprayed blood and viscera everywhere. The rest of the assault that I made was in a haze of red vision as I charged through the ranks of our ambushers until I came upon the owner of the voice that had shouted out earlier on. He was holding a well made great-sword in his hands almost as if daring me to attack him. On the chest of his tattered talbard was something that I also recognized the gold cross of a Paladin Knight of the Ecclesia. However I had seen that there was at least one of these knights at the Keep so this man was probably a fanatic, the kind of person I really didn’t like very much. I had previously had several run ins with religious hysterics and I disliked all of them. In my mind religious hysteria was a form of madness that only had one cure. As our swords came together I realized that though this man was a hysteric he was also very well trained in the art of the sword. However, under the current circumstances I had the upper hand because I was under the influence of the Blood Rage. It was a very rare capability among Kelmar that gave the warrior who possessed it a limited period of enhanced strength, speed, and capability at a cost. That cost was that when the rage ran its course the warrior would be left almost helpless as the fatigue of using it drained his mind and body of almost all energy. however, for the time being I was able to wield my long-sword with the speed and dexterity of a short-sword or a rapier, using the shield to catch the renegade knight’s own strikes against me I dexterously peeled his plate armour away from his body with skillful blows from my own weapon. As we fought he grew more and more desperate as he realized the depth of his problems. But, I was also beginning to tire, and I could feel the strength and capability that the Blood Rage had brought me slowly ebbing away like a tide on the retreat. With my last reserves of strength and speed I unleashed a powerful blow at the renegade’s ankles breaking both of them before I whipped the sword up to break both of his exposed shoulders. This way the knight would face a trial, and almost certain death at the Keep for preying on local caravans. Once he was on the ground I managed to walk far enough away from him before I dropped my own weapon and collapsed on the ground. Just before I passed out Daniel appeared in my vision

“Are you ok Adòn?” I managed to nod before I spat out a couple of words

“When I wake up make sure that there is some food there, I’ll be ravenously hungry.” With that said I passed out.

I wasn’t really sure how long it had been when I woke up in my own tent but I was comfortable. I quickly sat up and looked around before I smelled the odour of freshly cooked meat. At that moment my stomach growled at me almost as if in a reminder of what I had done earlier. Without even bothering to put anything on I scrambled out of the tent and headed straight for the fire where Barbara and Hernado were turning a haunch of meat on a spit. I grabbed the spit from the fire and sank my fangs into the meat ripping it apart with an overpowering hunger. I polished off the cooked meat in short order and looked over to find Daniel sitting proudly by a large hanging carcass, that he must’ve brought down with that bow that he carried. The kid was definitely getting better with that weapon, but right now that wasn’t really something that I was all that concerned about.

Some time later when I had managed to gain control of myself, my stomach was groaning with the amount that I had eaten, I listened while Barbara berated me on my actions. This woman was beginning to get on my nerves with her constant carping on my perceived faults. She claimed that I was insubordinate, reckless, and a danger to the rest of the squad. Finally when she asked me if I had anything to say in my defense I fixed her with a glare before I responded by telling her

“Ma’am with all due respect,” Though I didn’t really believe that she deserved my respect “, you are perhaps the worst commander that I’ve ever had the displeasure of serving under in my fifty-five years of combat. You don’t listen to my advice on matters which I know more than you do and you don’t heed what I say when it could save your life.” She looked at me arrogantly

“You have conception of the differences and difficulties that we face here in the Valley.”

“I understand better than you are led to believe ma’am. I’ve fought those little monsters to the north and I can tell you that I’m glad that we haven’t been sent out there with the training that you currently possess. This little squad would get eaten alive.” With that said I left her spluttering in indignation at my comments as I dragged my sore feline tail back to my tent where I could get some more rest.

Two days later when we arrived at the Keep, the renegade knight was tied to a stretcher that Hernando and I had been forced to carry, since we were the largest members of the squad, we were met by a group of soldiers who took our burden from us. Once we were relieved of our burden Barbara came up to me and said

“You are on report for insubordination, reckless behavior, and negligence. I want to see you in George’s office tomorrow at eight-o-clock sharp.” I simply nodded in acquiescence before I headed back to my room where I could get out of my things and go have a bath. However when I reached my room I found a slip of paper from someone slid under the door

:'''''Adòn Naharél I believe that we would prefer to keep things here civil so I have yet to bring the Watch into this matter. You have destroyed my sign and as such I would like to speak to you about it. The sign needs to be replaced, how else am I supposed to get business? If we can’t keep this civil that I will be forced to bring the watch into this matter'''''
:'''''Drift; Edward Snow'''''

I guess that I couldn’t get away from that and I would have to deal with it as soon as I finished my bath but that was something that I could take care of afterwards. I just hoped that the white Samoyed morph would treat me with more respect that Barbara had.

{{series bar
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}}

The Pointless Patrol

2017-07-07T12:24:56Z

Lem: Corrected typos

[[Category:Story]] [[Category:Animal]]
{{DEFAULTSORT: Pointless Patrol, The}}
[[Category:Metamor Keep]]
[[Category:Oberon]]
{{editing requested}}{{universe|Metamor Keep}}

By: [[User:Oberon|Oberon]]

It had been several days since I had received my heat dispersion collar from Misha I had spent a good amount of time on the practice ground testing my endurance and my power. I had found that my endurance was dependent on how much of strength I was using. The more strength I used to achieve something the less endurance I had. So I would try and do something with as little strength as possible in order preserve my endurance. This morning I woke up at my normal time but instead getting into my normal clothing I put on my battle gear and armour. Once I put armour and helmet on I hung my heavy belt and double baldric over my armour. Attached to my belts was the same load out as I had used in my first unauthorized mission, with the possible exception of my light scouting pack that carried a small tent, bedroll, pot and a few utensils. When I was finished putting my gear on I grabbed my grey cloak and headed out the door to the mess hall where I grabbed a quick breakfast before I headed over to the arsenal tower where I was supposed to be joining a patrol under the order of George the Patrol Master. When I got there I found five other people standing around in full equipment. The leader of the group was easy to recognize as a TG because she had a strong body that was armoured in a brigantine. The rest of the group was made up of an young boy who I guessed was an AR, a huge man who resembled a wildebeast, a small woman who was a meercat morph, and a young man who was a greyhound morph. The TG turned and looked at me before she asked me if I was Adòn Naharél.

"Yes I am." I responded

"Very well you're coming with me, we have a patrol to go on." She looked me over for a second before she asked me "Are you sure that you have got enough for the next few days?"

"Ma'am I've learned over many years that it is better to travel light when going out scouting and to live off the land."

"Where did you learn that?"

"I think it was in the Principality of Relando about twenty-seven years ago south west of here about five hundred leagues from here." She shook her head before she finally replied

"Well you will learn otherwise out here."

"Give me a chance to prove my own techniques."

"It's your body, Mr. Naharél though I would prefer if you brought some food, because I would rather you not looking at Hernando when you get hungry."

"Trust me I won't go hungry, I know how to live off the land." She shook here head and then gave the order to move out. Half an hour later we left the town of Euper and headed out into forests in the valley south of the Keep. As we marched out into the forest I took the point while the TG who's name was Barbara hung just behind me.

"Don't go to fast Mr. Naharél because some of us aren't quite as large as you are."

"I'll keep that in mind ma'am." I replied as I kept my eyes on the trail and my ears open. The only thing that I could hear was the sound of my comrades walking along behind me in their armour, the rattle of their equipment, and the sound of their talking. I stopped and half-turned before I gave them a look that conveyed volumes

"What was that about Mr. Naharél."

"I need the chorus to shut their traps and try and walk a little more quietly, I can't hear anything but them. If I can't hear anything then who knows what will sneak up on us but whatever it will be I can promise you that it won't be good." She shook her head and went to the others to pass on my suggestion. The rest of the day went pretty much the same way with Barbara complaining about just about every suggestion that I made that would help us make the patrol more effective and efficient. When we stopped for the night I took off most of equipment and left it with the camp before I headed out into the forest to go find some dinner. A little more than an hour later I came to a small creek where there were three small deer taking a drink from the creek. I made sure that I was upwind of them, then ensured that they were real deer before I loaded the single spear-dart that I was carrying into my atlatl and made sure that I was concealed from my prey before I stood up and launched the spear-dart at the smallest deer. When the dart hit her she jumped once and then collapsed on the bank of the stream dead as a stone. In my mind that was the mark of a good hunter, if you could make a kill without having your prey suffer too much. As soon as she stopped moving I stepped out from my concealment behind and tree and went over to my prey. I quickly and efficiently took out the inedible parts and then indulged in the parts that I could enjoy but the others couldn't. Those parts included the heart, lungs, and liver which I savoured raw straight from the still warm corpse. Before I picked the deer up I washed my muzzle in the water of the stream to clean off any traces of blood on my face. Once I was sure that my whiskers were clean I picked up the deer and began to jog back to the camp with it on my shoulder. When I got back to the camp the look on Barbara's face was priceless, it was worth all of the scorn with which she had treated my suggestions all day long. I looked over at their pitiful attempts at lighting a fire and then grabbed my folding shovel from my gear and dug out a pit before I began to create a proper fire. When I had everything properly arranged I pulled out my tinderbox and stuck a few sparks into the smallest sticks to be rewarded with a whoosh of flame. I was thankful for the collar that I was wearing because if I hadn't the flames would've singed the fur all the way up my arms. I turned to Hernando, the wildebeast and growled out

"Why in Kàantal's name did you soak these sticks with oil and not tell me?" He looked frightened before he replied

"I can't get a fire going without oil." I could do nothing more than to shake my head in wonder at the thought that the Patrol Master would stick me with a group of such amateur woodsmen. I quickly went back into the bush, found two forked sticks and a straight stick that could serve me as a spit for the meat that I had brought back to the camp. Less than an hour later I had a full leg cooking over the fire, sizzling in its own juices with the skin holding in the flavours. The fur of the leg had singed away and revealed the glistening blackened skin which was bubbling up and protecting the meat underneath from the fire. When it was finally ready I pulled it off of the spit and went back to the shadows where I had set up my tent just under a large tree. I sat back and watched and smelled the others botch their cooking up but good. As she was cooking her part I heard Barbara say

"I really can't wait to get back to the Keep and back to the Tipsy Lady." The wildebeast rumbled in agreement before I smelled one of the others getting closer to me.

"What is it kid?" It was the greyhound morph and I could tell that he was nervous from his scent in the air

"Barb told us not to go near you but I think that you're pretty good."

"How old are you Kid?"

"Oh my name's Daniel Hart and I just turned sixteen in march."

"Is that why they stuck you with this group of less then competent soldiers?"

"The Lieutenant seems to be pretty good."

"That isn't saying a lot Daniel. To you she may appear to be very knowledgeable but from my point of view she doesn't really know all that much about scouting."

"What do you mean?"

"I have served as a mercenary in various city-states, principalities, duchy’s, and counties for longer than she's been alive. I know more about warfare than this whole squad put together."

"Wow." Was the kid's only response. I sat down with my back to a tree and thought back to some of the missions that I had completed in the past.

"Kid the first rule of scouting is to walk quietly, and keep your eyes, ears, and nose on a constant lookout because you will never know where or when a threat will appear." He nodded slowly before I spoke again "The second rule is always, always be prepared for anything, be it enemy, refugee, or both... Because you never know when you will encounter something. The last rule is to always have a backup contingency in case things don't go your way, in your case I would suggest that you do what your body is built for and run."

"Wouldn't that be considered cowardice?"

"At your age there is such a thing as discretion and right now you need as much discretion as possible. If we get into a fight I want you to stick as close to me as possible, I will make sure that you survive." He nodded his head and then asked me if I minded him setting up his tent by mine. I didn't really respond to his question so he took a little initiative and set his tent up just beside my own. After more than an hour I crawled into my small tent and went to sleep.

It was still dark when someone shook my shoulder and whispered that it was my turn to take the watch. I nodded slowly and then looked up to see the face of the AR in the darkness, though it wasn't all that dark to me. I pulled on my armour and equipment before I went over to the watch-point and sat down. As I sat there with my senses keyed up I thought back to my past serving in hundreds of engagements throughout the midlands. When I had first arrived in the midlands I signed on with a small company that was taking part in besieging a castle. Since I was the new guy in the unit I was given the honour of being the first man up the ladder in the final assault on the keep. What the commander of the mercenary unit that I was part of was probably thinking was that I would probably get killed in the initial assault on the wall, considering the fact that the first person up the assault ladder is usually thought of as being fed to the wall. However I was different than the average soldier in that I was trained as a Heavy Combat Specialist and that included assaulting walls. In the end it was our unit that allowed us to take the wall and take the gates of the castle in order to let the majority of the army of the nation that we were serving into the castle. Of that unit of some fifty mercenaries only twenty-one managed to survive that assault including some people that I had made friends with. Over the next thirty years I grew hardened to the realities of war, and the biggest of those realities is that people die. After a few years of having new friends die every time I went into combat as a mercenary I had started distancing myself from other new recruits into the merc unit that I was involved in. Eventually the unit was destroyed eighteen years ago and I went on to serve various nations as a individual specialist in all forms of warfare. Sometimes I had been successful and other times I wasn't quite so successful and I had to resort to guarding caravans and rich merchants as they crossed the Midlands. The trip into Metamor Keep had been one of those times when I hadn't been able to find a job where I could use my skills to the greatest extent. When the sun came up I went back to the camp and began to get things set up for some breakfast. Personally I had what leftovers of the deer were available while the rest of the squad made do with whatever they had carried with them in their bags.

The next four days went by in pretty much the same fashion with the six of us each doing our jobs to the best, or worst, of our abilities. I spent most of the time evaluating my comrades and finding out their strengths and weaknesses. This squad, from my professional opinion was probably one of the worst; if not the worst reconnaissance squads in the entire Keep. They definitely weren't anywhere near the same calibre as the Long Scouts, which I had by now learned, were the best scouts in the entire keep. Their main strength was their ignorance and smell, while their weakness was virtually everything else when it came to scouting and woodcraft. The only person who actually had some modicum of potential was the kid and his only problem was ignorance and lack of proper training when it came to scouting. When we came into sight of the keep on the main road Barbara said

"This is the end of another completely pointless patrol." I didn't speak up but in my mind I was saying 'No patrol is ever pointless.' Hernando, the wildebeast morph, nodded his massive head before he replied

"Back to the Keep for a few days while we get to enjoy everything that home provides including all the beer that I can drink at the Tipsy Lady. We can even go out and enjoy the festivities of the Easter/Equinox Festival." This wasn't news to me, I had learned about the festival from Misha the day before I had left to go on patrol. If this festival was all that it was cracked up to it would be a good time to see all that the keep had to offer. I might even be able to find something that would appeal to my interests as a warrior. After we logged in at the gate to the inner keep I headed to my room were I divested myself of my armour and heavy equipment before I headed to the baths to get cleaned up. It felt sublime to immerse myself in the warm water of the baths. I preferred the cool water bath because it didn't make my body overheat, not that that was a problem anymore considering the collar that Misha had given me not too long ago. A little over an hour later I went back to my room to take care of my equipment, that was a vital part of being a warrior. First I cleaned all of the dirt and dust from the patrol from my armour before I began tending to my swords and their scabbards. In total the time that it took me to care for my equipment was somewhere in the area of two hours. Once that was finished I put on my obligatory black leather vest, red and black pleated kilt, black cloak, and sword-belt. With all of my normal things taken care of I headed down to the mess where I had my supper before heading to the Deaf Mule where I could have an ale and hopefully a good game of darts and knives with Copernicus. As soon as I walked in the door I could see that there was a new caravan from the Midlands in town because the teamsters from that caravan were in the Mule. I could have sworn that Donnie was wearing a grin as he served my ale to me in a foaming tankard. He must've been happy about the amount of business that he was having this evening. Cope was playing darts with one of the teamsters and the man was having a rough time of it. I smiled at Cope as he threw the last dart to win the match. The teamster's friends laughed and then one bragged

“If I was allowed to throw my knives I could probably beat anyone in this place.”

“Why don't you put your money where your mouth is sir.” said one of the locals who was stuck in the form of a child. The man laughed slowly stood up and slapped a gold sun on the table before he said “OK I put my money down now who here thinks they can beat me at throwing knives.” I slowly stood up from where I had been sitting at the bar and replied to his challenge

“I believe I can beat you.” before I pulled three knives from their concealed sheaths behind my back. I placed them on the table by the line that marked the throwing position and took my stance. I allowed the teamster to have the first shot. It was a respectable toss but I knew that I could easily do better. I got into my zone and tossed my dart without even realizing it. The man who was facing me shook his head slowly and then asked

“How in the name of Eli did you make that shot?”

“If you know how you can mentally remove all distractions until you reach a point where you can almost unconsciously throw the knife.” The man shook his head and then threw his second knife. Within the next three minutes I won five more suns from various teamsters as they tried to beat me at my own game. I went home that evening with more money than I had possessed when I went to the bar. As I went to sleep with a slight buzz in my head I wondered if the next day would be as much fun as some of the visitors had implied.

{{series bar
|previous=[[Castle Fever Cat]]
|next=[[A Good Time, A Bad Time]]
}}

The Pointless Patrol

2017-07-07T12:18:36Z

Lem: Corrected typos

[[Category:Story]] [[Category:Animal]]
{{DEFAULTSORT: Pointless Patrol, The}}
[[Category:Metamor Keep]]
[[Category:Oberon]]
{{editing requested}}{{universe|Metamor Keep}}

By: [[User:Oberon|Oberon]]

It had been several days since I had received my heat dispersion collar from Misha I had spent a good amount of time on the practice ground testing my endurance and my power. I had found that my endurance was dependent on how much of strength I was using. The more strength I used to achieve something the less endurance I had. So I would try and do something with as little strength as possible in order preserve my endurance. This morning I woke up at my normal time but instead getting into my normal clothing I put on my battle gear and armour. Once I put armour and helmet on I hung my heavy belt and double baldric over my armour. Attached to my belts was the same load out as I had used in my first unauthorized mission, with the possible exception of my light scouting pack that carried a small tent, bedroll, pot and a few utensils. When I was finished putting my gear on I grabbed my grey cloak and headed out the door to the mess hall where I grabbed a quick breakfast before I headed over to the arsenal tower where I was supposed to be joining a patrol under the order of George the Patrol Master. When I got there I found five other people standing around in full equipment. The leader of the group was easy to recognize as a TG because she had a strong body that was armoured in a brigantine. The rest of the group was made up of an young boy who I guessed was an AR, a huge man who resembled a wildebeast, a small woman who was a meercat morph, and a young man who was a greyhound morph. The TG turned and looked at me before she asked me if I was Adòn Naharél.

"Yes I am." I responded

"Very well you're coming with me, we have a patrol to go on." She looked me over for a second before she asked me "Are you sure that you have got enough for the next few days?"

"Ma'am I've learned over many years that it is better to travel light when going out scouting and to live off the land."

"Where did you learn that?"

"I think it was in the Principality of Relando about twenty-seven years ago south west of here about five hundred leagues from here." She shook her head before she finally replied

"Well you will learn otherwise out here."

"Give me a chance to prove my own techniques."

"It's your body, Mr. Naharél though I would prefer if you brought some food, because I would rather you not looking at Hernando when you get hungry."

"Trust me I won't go hungry, I know how to live off the land." She shook here head and then gave the order to move out. Half an hour later we left the town of Euper and headed out into forests in the valley south of the Keep. As we marched out into the forest I took the point while the TG who's name was Barbara hung just behind me.

"Don't go to fast Mr. Naharél because some of us aren't quite as large as you are."

"I'll keep that in mind ma'am." I replied as I kept my eyes on the trail and my ears open. The only thing that I could hear was the sound of my comrades walking along behind me in their armour, the rattle of their equipment, and the sound of their talking. I stopped and half-turned before I gave them a look that conveyed volumes

"What was that about Mr. Naharél."

"I need the chorus to shut their traps and try and walk a little more quietly, I can't hear anything but them. If I can't hear anything then who knows what will sneak up on us but whatever it will be I can promise you that it won't be good." She shook her head and went to the others to pass on my suggestion. The rest of the day went pretty much the same way with Barbara complaining about just about every suggestion that I made that would help us make the patrol more effective and efficient. When we stopped for the night I took off most of equipment and left it with the camp before I headed out into the forest to go find some dinner. A little more than an hour later I came to a small creek where there were three small deer taking a drink from the creek. I made sure that I was upwind of them, then ensured that they were real deer before I loaded the single spear-dart that I was carrying into my atlatl and made sure that I was concealed from my prey before I stood up and launched the spear-dart at the smallest deer. When the dart hit her she jumped once and then collapsed on the bank of the stream dead as a stone. In my mind that was the mark of a good hunter, if you could make a kill without having your prey suffer too much. As soon as she stopped moving I stepped out from my concealment behind and tree and went over to my prey. I quickly and efficiently took out the inedible parts and then indulged in the parts that I could enjoy but the others couldn't. Those parts included the heart, lungs, and liver which I savoured raw straight from the still warm corpse. Before I picked the deer up I washed my muzzle in the water of the stream to clean off any traces of blood on my face. Once I was sure that my whiskers were clean I picked up the deer and began to jog back to the camp with it on my shoulder. When I got back to the camp the look on Barbara's face was priceless, it was worth all of the scorn with which she had treated my suggestions all day long. I looked over at their pitiful attempts at lighting a fire and then grabbed my folding shovel from my gear and dug out a pit before I began to create a proper fire. When I had everything properly arranged I pulled out my tinderbox and stuck a few sparks into the smallest sticks to be rewarded with a whoosh of flame. I was thankful for the collar that I was wearing because if I hadn't the flames would've singed the fur all the way up my arms. I turned to Hernando, the wildebeast and growled out

"Why in Kàantal's name did you soak these sticks with oil and not tell me?" He looked frightened before he replied

"I can't get a fire going without oil." I could do nothing more than to shake my head in wonder at the thought that the Patrol Master would stick me with a group of such amateur woodsmen. I quickly went back into the bush, found two forked sticks and a straight stick that could serve me as a spit for the meat that I had brought back to the camp. Less than an hour later I had a full leg cooking over the fire, sizzling in its own juices with the skin holding in the flavours. The fur of the leg had singed away and revealed the glistening blackened skin which was bubbling up and protecting the meat underneath from the fire. When it was finally ready I pulled it off of the spit and went back to the shadows where I had set up my tent just under a large tree. I sat back and watched and smelled the others botch their cooking up but good. As she was cooking her part I heard Barbara say

"I really can't wait to get back to the Keep and back to the Tipsy Lady." The wildebeast rumbled in agreement before I smelled one of the others getting closer to me.

"What is it kid?" It was the greyhound morph and I could tell that he was nervous from his scent in the air

"Barb told us not to go near you but I think that you're pretty good."

"How old are you Kid?"

"Oh my name's Daniel Hart and I just turned sixteen in march."

"Is that why they stuck you with this group of less then competent soldiers?"

"The Lieutenant seems to be pretty good."

"That isn't saying a lot Daniel. To you she may appear to be very knowledgeable but from my point of view she doesn't really know all that much about scouting."

"What do you mean?"

"I have served as a mercenary in various city-states, principalities, duchy’s, and counties for longer than she's been alive. I know more about warfare than this whole squad put together."

"Wow." Was the kid's only response. I sat down with my back to a tree and thought back to some of the missions that I had completed in the past.

"Kid the first rule of scouting is to walk quietly, and keep your eyes, ears, and nose on a constant lookout because you will never know where or when a threat will appear." He nodded slowly before I spoke again "The second rule is always, always be prepared for anything, be it enemy, refugee, or both... Because you never know when you will encounter something. The last rule is to always have a backup contingency in case things don't go your way, in your case I would suggest that you do what your body is built for and run."

"Wouldn't that be considered cowardice?"

"At your age there is such a thing as discretion and right now you need as much discretion as possible. If we get into a fight I want you to stick as close to me as possible, I will make sure that you survive." He nodded his head and then asked me if I minded him setting up his tent by mine. I didn't really respond to his question so he took a little initiative and set his tent up just beside my own. After more than an hour I crawled into my small tent and went to sleep.

It was still dark when someone shook my shoulder and whispered that it was my turn to take the watch. I nodded slowly and then looked up to see the face of the AR in the darkness, though it wasn't all that dark to me. I pulled on my armour and equipment before I went over to the watch-point and sat down. As I sat there with my senses keyed up I thought back to my past serving in hundreds of engagements throughout the midlands. When I had first arrived in the midlands I signed on with a small company that was taking part in besieging a castle. Since I was the new guy in the unit I was given the honour of being the first man up the ladder in the final assault on the keep. What the commander of the mercenary unit that I was part of was probably thinking was that I would probably get killed in the initial assault on the wall, considering the fact that the first person up the assault ladder is usually thought of as being fed to the wall. However I was different than the average soldier in that I was trained as a Heavy Combat Specialist and that included assaulting walls. In the end it was our unit that allowed us to take the wall and take the gates of the castle in order to let the majority of the army of the nation that we were serving into the castle. Of that unit of some fifty mercenaries only twenty-one managed to survive that assault including some people that I had made friends with. Over the next thirty years I grew hardened to the realities of war, and the biggest of those realities is that people die. After a few years of having new friends die every time I went into combat as a mercenary I had started distancing myself from other new recruits into the merc unit that I was involved in. Eventually the unit was destroyed eighteen years ago and I went on to serve various nations as a individual specialist in all forms of warfare. Sometimes I had been successful and other times I wasn't quite so successful and I had to resort to guarding caravans and rich merchants as they crossed the Midlands. The trip into Metamor Keep had been one of those times when I hadn't been able to find a job where I could use my skills to the greatest extent. When the sun came up I went back to the camp and began to get things set up for some breakfast. Personally I had what leftovers of the deer were available while the rest of the squad made do with whatever they had carried with them in their bags.

The next four days went by in pretty much the same fashion with the six of us each doing our jobs to the best, or worst, of our abilities. I spent most of the time evaluating my comrades and finding out their strengths and weaknesses. This squad, from my professional opinion was probably one of the worst; if not the worst reconnaissance squads in the entire Keep. They definitely weren't anywhere near the same calibre as the Long Scouts, which I had by now learned, were the best scouts in the entire keep. Their main strength was their ignorance and smell, while their weakness was virtually everything else when it came to scouting and woodcraft. The only person who actually had some modicum of potential was the kid and his only problem was ignorance and lack of proper training when it came to scouting. When we came into sight of the keep on the main road Barbara said

"This is the end of another completely pointless patrol." I didn't speak up but in my mind I was saying 'No patrol is ever pointless.' Hernando, the wildebeast morph, nodded his massive head before he replied

"Back to the Keep for a few days while we get to enjoy everything that home provides including all the beer that I can drink at the Tipsy Lady. We can even go out and enjoy the festivities of the Easter/Equinox Festival." This wasn't news to me, I had learned about the festival from Misha the day before I had left to go on patrol. If this festival was all that it was cracked up to it would be a good time to see all that the keep had to offer. I might even be able to find something that would appeal to my interests as a warrior. After we logged in at the gate to the inner keep I headed to my room were I divested myself of my armour and heavy equipment before I headed to the baths to get cleaned up. It felt sublime to immerse myself in the warm water of the baths. I preferred the cool water bath because it didn't make my body overheat, not that that was a problem anymore considering the collar that Misha had given me not too long ago. A little over an hour later I went back to my room to take care of my equipment, that was a vital part of being a warrior. First I cleaned all of the dirt and dust from the patrol from my armour before I began tending to my swords and their scabbards. In total the time that it took me to care for my equipment was somewhere in the area of two hours. Once that was finished I put on my obligatory black leather vest, red and black pleated kilt, black cloak, and sword-belt. With all of my normal things taken care of I headed down to the mess where I had my supper before heading to the Deaf Mule where I could have an ale and hopefully a good game of darts and knives with Copernicus. As soon as I walked in the door I could see that there was a new caravan from the Midlands in town because the teamsters from that caravan were in the Mule. I could have sworn that Donnie was wearing an grin as he served my ale to me in a foaming tankard. He must've been happy about the amount of business that he was having this evening. Cope was playing darts with one of the teamsters and the man was having a rough time of it. I smiled at Cope as he threw the last dart to win the match. The teamster's friends laughed and then one bragged

“If I was allowed to throw my knives I could probably beat anyone in this place.”

“Why don't you put your money where your mouth is sir.” said one of the locals who was stuck in the form of a child. The man laughed slowly stood up and slapped a gold sun on the table before he said “OK I put my money down now who here thinks they can beat me at throwing knives.” I slowly stood up from where I had been sitting at the bar and replied to his challenge

“I believe I can beat you.” before I pulled three knives from their concealed sheaths behind my back. I placed them on the table by the line that marked the throwing position and took my stance. I allowed the teamster to have the first shot. It was a respectable toss but I knew that I could easily do better. I got into my zone and tossed my dart without even realizing it. The man who was facing me shook his head slowly and then asked

“How in the name of Eli did you make that shot?”

“If you know how you can mentally remove all distractions until you reach a point where you can almost unconsciously throw the knife.” The man shook his head and then threw his second knife. Within the next three minutes I won five more suns from various teamsters as they tried to beat me at my own game. I went home that evening with more money than I had possessed when I went to the bar. As I went to sleep with a slight buzz in my head I wondered if the next day would be as much fun as some of the visitors had implied.

{{series bar
|previous=[[Castle Fever Cat]]
|next=[[A Good Time, A Bad Time]]
}}

Castle Fever Cat

2017-07-07T11:32:07Z

Lem: Corrected typos

[[Category:Story]] [[Category:Animal]]
{{DEFAULTSORT: Castle Fever Cat}}
[[Category:Metamor Keep]]
[[Category:Oberon]]
{{editing requested}}{{universe|Metamor Keep}}

By: [[User:Oberon|Oberon]]

It had only been a day since I had collapsed on the practice field while sparring with George, the Patrol Master, because of Heat Shock. Now I was laying on my bed relaxing in the early morning light in my apartment. From the quality of the morning light I knew that it was going to be another hot one, hence I would probably spend most of the day in the baths trying to stay cool in the coolest of the pools panting and absorbing water like a sponge. I could of course spend the time in my forge-room, where it seemed that no matter how hot things got in the firebox the room didn't get hotter. I mean how else had I been able to work there for more than two and a half weeks without keeling over from the heat? I had been very lucky that the days that I had gone out on my own personal scouting mission, the weather had been cool and overcast.

After a few more minutes, I slowly pulled myself up and out of bed to look myself in the mirror. The face that was reflected back at me was a rather striking one. My glacial blue eyes were surrounded by a large head that was marked with white and black stripes that highlighted my feline features. The most prominent of which was my muzzle which contained a formidable array of teeth. Peaking out from my thick white and black fur on my head was a pair of slightly pointed round ears. I picked up a brush from my grooming kit and gently ran it through my facial fur straightening out the fur and making sure that each of the stripes was very well defined. When I was finished grooming my fur over my entire body including my four and a half foot long tail I put on a black and red banded long kilt, and my normal weapons belt and cloak before I headed down to the nearest mess hall where I could get something to eat. Ever since I had been altered into my current form by the curse of Metamor Keep I had found that my appetite had grown quite a bit. Perhaps it was because I was a little more than a foot taller, and roughly two hundred pounds heavier than I had been when I was human. I put a large pile of meat on my plate and sat down over in my normal corner where I could watch over the entire mess hall. There weren't very many people in the hall right now, most people hadn't gotten up yet, but that was the way that I liked things. Besides, I had always been an early riser ever since I had started training when I was only five years old.

When I was finished eating I took a stairway down into lower levels of the keep to do some exploring because I had nothing better do today. As I walked deeper into the keep I noticed that there were few torches in the hallways, though my natural ability to see in the dark was able to compensate for the lack of light. More than half an hour later I arrived in a small round chamber where I could quite clearly smell rats, though these rats didn't smell like normal rats. There was the unmistakable smell of leather, metal, and freshly carved wood. After looking around for a little while I turned and left the chamber and began to head deeper into the cellars to continue my exploring. After more than an hour in the depths of the cellars I found myself higher up in the Keep than I thought possible. I opened one of the doors, forgot to duck and got myself yet another bump on the head. Ever since I had changed into what I was now I had found myself constantly bumping my head on door frames and low hanging signs. They had become the virtual bane of my existence in the Keep, at least when I was outside I didn't have to worry about my knocking myself senseless on some low hanging sign, or door frame. I did have to worry about the odd low hanging tree branch. The room beyond the door was full of large bookshelves that stretched from floor to ceiling and was illuminated by large stain glass windows in the upper parts of the room. I went into the room and looked around; behind a desk near the door was a person that looked like an owl sitting on a sort of perch looking at a large leather bound book. The owl glanced up at me with her captivating yellow eyes before she said in a commanding female voice

"Can I help you sir?"

"Not really ma'am I was just looking around the place, I haven’t been around the keep for all that long, besides I don't read your common language all that well."

"What do you mean sir?"

"Ma'am I can read my own language, Kelmarhastarat, but my skills reading your language haven't improved all that much in the past thirty years that I have spent in the presence of your people. What little I have learned of your language has come as a result of doing business on this continent."

"Where are you from?"

"My homeland is a long way from here. I had to steal a boat in order to reach this place, and even then I took more than three and a half weeks to reach land. Thank goodness the weather at that particular time wasn't all that fierce because if it had been I wouldn't be here right now."

"It must be hard being so far from your home."

"Well I've managed to get used to it in the past thirty years although there have been a few times when I have missed my homeland though I can never go back, especially now that I've been turned into what I am now." She looked into my eyes before she said

"If you need any assistance I can help you, I used to work at a university as a teacher but then the local baron died and the new one was a religious hysteric. With the support of the local Ecclesia he purged the city's university of all Lothanasi. As a believer in Samekkh I was forced to flee before they could burn me at the stake as an unbeliever."

"That sounds you've had a tough life ma'am."

"You can call me Mael-Murie." She stated with a quiet dignity that did a lot to point out here strength of being. If she had been born in the Clanlands as a warrior she would've been someone to respect. I bowed slowly to show her that respect before I replied

"My lady you can call me Adòn Naharél." She smiled up at me before she pointing out

"You have an interesting name Mr. Naharél."

"Well that is what you get when you aren't born in any recognizable country on this continent." After another moment I went deeper into the library to look at what they had in their collection. In section in the back I was utterly shocked to find a small selection of scrolls from my homeland. These scrolls included the Grawshtal Hednark, the definitive guide to warfare that had been written by the famous philosopher Tshan Ktrak. I pulled the scroll off of the shelf and then pulled off the soft cloth wrapping and began to unroll the ancient book to look at the runes that were marked on the delicate parchment. Some time later, I wasn't sure how much later exactly, I heard someone come up behind me.

"You understand that scroll?"

"Certainly, it's written in my own language."
"I found those books in that section only a couple of weeks ago and haven't managed to make heads or tales of them."

"That is because they are written in Kelmar Runes."

"What is that scroll all about?"

"This scroll was written three thousand years ago by the Supreme Warlord Tshan Ktrak before the beginning of the clan wars. It was all about the conduct, leadership, and prosecution of warfare. The precepts of this scroll remain true even now three thousand years later."

"That is quite something Mr. Naharél." I nodded and then read another line of the fine runes.

More than two hours later I put the scroll back into its case on the shelf and headed out of the library to go look at other parts of the keep. I let my feet take me further into the keep until I opened a door and found myself in a huge chamber that was decorated with elaborate tapestries, sculptures, and banners. I was gazing at the high vaulted ceiling when a large man in the shape of an alligator came up and said

"Sir you cannot bring weapons into the throne-room. If you will kindly leave them over by the front door you can watch to proceedings." I put my hand on the hilt of the long-sword, that I had only just finished making a couple of days ago, laid back my ears and replied

"No one, but no one takes a Kelmar Warrior's sword away from him. It is a very grave offence against a warrior's honour." The alligator looked unsure of himself before he said

"If you will leave the room then you can keep your weapon."

"That is acceptable." I replied taking my hands off my sword and trying to get my ears off the back of my skull. Two guards came up behind me and gently took my arms in their hands before they began to guide me to the nearest door. Once I was outside of the room I looked at some of the sculptures that lined the hall. I continued walking aimlessly and soon found myself outside in the bright sunshine of the fine spring day. At some point my nose began to detect the smell of baking bread. This bread smelled absolutely terrific, I hadn't smelled bread of this quality for quite some time. I guess that it might have been something like two years when I worked for some minor noble far to the west of here. I followed the exquisite smell until I found myself in front of a bakery in the outer ward with the delectable smell floating out of the front of the shop. In the front of the shop was a young man who appeared to be a black and white tabby cat. He looked up when I walked in the front door and asked me

"What can I get for you today sir?"

"I smelled your bread from down the street and I was wondering how much it would cost me to get a small loaf.

"How can you eat any bread? I am modeled after a cat like you are and I can't eat any at all."

"I don't know how I can but I can handle small amounts at a time. If I have too much though then I get into trouble."

"That is amazing that you can eat any at all. If you want some our smallest loaf costs a bronze crescent and a brass penny. I handed him the money and then took the bread savouring the smell. My sense of taste was somewhat atrophied but as if in compensation I gained an extremely acute sense of smell. In fact I had also picked up a new organ in my mouth that gave me a sort of secondary tasting ability. I slowly ate the bread, knowing that it was something that my system didn't really like but none the less enjoying it. Once I was finished savouring my somewhat unusual snack I made my way to a local butcher who was swinging a knife at some unidentifiable piece of meat. He looked up at me and then noted the swords at my side before he asked me what he could get me. Once I completed the transaction I made my way back up to the Keep while I munched on the piece of flesh that I had bought at the butcher shop. When I was finished I found that instead of washing my hands off in the fountain I simply licked the blood off of my muzzle and fingers. I actually stopped at the armoury and looked in on the person who was there cataloging the weapons and armour stored there. When I looked across the counter at the man who was standing there I found myself looking at a mule morph.
"What can I get for you?”
“I was just looking around and I wanted to see what you had available here in terms of weaponry.”

“Well we can get you just about anything that you can think of.” I nodded my head before I pulled the sword at my side out of its scabbard an placed it on the counter in front of him before I asked him

“Have you ever seen a blade like this before?” The mule picked up the weapon and held it in his hand before he looked down the blade and noticed the Hatkarat Watermark on both edges of the blade.

“How did the smith do this, and more importantly who did this and where are they from?”

“I made it roughly thirty years ago, and as for how I did it. That is something that I will keep to myself.” The mule’s eyes widened before he seemed to recognize and then said in awe

"Are you that strange warrior from way beyond our known lands?”

“Yes I am.”

“What do you think of our weapons here?”

"To tell you the truth some of them are similar to what a warrior would make before he comes of age. You don’t temper your weapons like we do and you don’t seem to take as much care in creating them.” The mule spluttered for a moment before he managed to say

“Here at Metamor Keep we make some of the best weapons in the Midlands. There are people out there who are clamoring for our weapons and here you are telling me that you could do better.”

“That is precisely what I am telling since I was the one responsible for that sword in your hands.” The mule looked at me for a moment and then nodded before looking once more at the sword in his hands before he held it out to me and said

“You are a truly skilled smith sir…”

“My name is Adòn Naharél though you can call me Oberon.” I was growing more and more used to referring to myself by that name.

“You can call me Jack DeMule and I work here on most days when I’m not training young people how to fight.” I nodded slowly looking him up and down. He seemed to be a rugged individual with some strength in his bones. After a few more seconds I held out my right hand and shook feeling the firm grip that the mule possessed. This told me a lot about the type of person. Once I shook his hand he looked into my eyes and queried

“Would you like to see some of the more exotic pieces in our collection?” I turned and looked over at him as I replaced my sword in its scabbard and I could feel my ears pricking forwards at the suggestion.

“That would probably be highly educational for me.” He laughed at my expression before he replied.

“Just come back here and I will show you what I mean.”
For more than three hours I perused the collection in the armoury with the Jack looking over some of the more interesting pieces of the collection. As far as I could tell this was the most complete collection of weapons that I had ever seen. There were even a few weapons that I had never seen before. When we were finished at last I thanked Jack before I headed out into the yard where I let my feet take me where they would. At some point my wandering feet took me to the Deaf Mule where I heard that there was some action going on inside. When I stepped through the door, I remembered to duck this time, I found myself in the busy common room. Opposite the dart board there was the lizard, Copernicus, throwing darts at the board with another man who was missing by quite a bit. I made my way from the door to the bar where I ordered an ale before I headed over to where they were playing to watch the game. After Cope's opponent threw his last dart at the board the lizard shook his head before he said

"Simon you want to go again." The young man, or more properly child, shook his head before he replied

"Not tonight Lizard Lips I know that I can't beat you right now." I took a gulp of my ale before I stood up and asked Cope

"You want to try that with me, Cope?"

"Adòn you're welcome to try if you want." I nodded slowly and went over to him and picked up the three darts that his opponent had left on the nearby table and began to cast the darts at the board. However, this game required a different style of throwing than I was used to and I missed the bulls-eye each time I tried to throw. "I thought that you would be better than this, considering the fact that you are a warrior."

"If you want I will throw my style and you throw in your style and then you will see precisely how good I really am with projectiles." He looked at the board for a second and then nodded his head in agreement and went over to pick the darts out of the board while I pulled three of my throwing knives from where I had put them at the back of my light sword-belt. I laid the three knives on the table and asked Cope if he wanted to go first.

"No be my guest you go first." I nodded slowly and picked up the first knife and checked its balance before I threw it lightly at the board. When Cope saw the result of the throw his eyes went wide before he threw his first dart at the board, it hit the board almost close enough to knock my knife out of the board. I carefully picked up my second knife and made my second throw. It was slightly off target and it hit just below his first dart. His second dart hit just high of my first knife. I looked at the board and focussed my attention on the bull’s-eye, clearing my mind of all distractions until all that I was aware of was the target. "Holy Yashuna how in the name of the Eli did you manage to make that shot?" I looked at the board for the first time in the past few minutes and then responded by saying

"I concentrated on the target and that's all."

"Well that shot was one in a million."

"If I need to I can repeat it again." Cope shook his head in wonder before he threw his last dart. It was a superlative shot and it hit almost on top of my last knife. I nodded to the lizard and quietly pointed out the fact that his shot was just as good as my own shot. He chuckled slowly before he turned his head to face me and replied

"I was surprised that you made that shot. Everyone else that I've ever played this game with has never made a shot like that." I walked up to the board and so did he to tally the score. As he counted up his eyes widened in shock at the sight. Finally he looked up at me and said "You managed to tie me?!! Nobody has ever tied me at darts." Slowly I pulled the three knives out of the board and returned them to their sheaths before I turned around and said

"I'll play you again tomorrow at around the same time." He looked at me in suspicion before nodding his head as I finished my ale and headed out the door.

Half an hour later I arrived back at my room and threw my cloak on the hook before I sat down in one of the chairs, pulled a blank piece of paper from a sheaf that I had concealed in my chest, and began to write down my experiences of the day in my own language. There was a knock on the door and I went over to answer it to find Misha the fox standing there with something in his hands.

"Here's the collar that I promised to make for you." He held it out and right away I could tell that it was a utilitarian item with not much thought given to its decorative potential, in other words it was perfectly suited for me. I took the collar from him and then went over to my chest and opened the lid and pulled out the false bottom to reveal the horde that I had hidden there. The horde was something that I had earned over the past thirty years; I hadn't really had a chance to spend it.

"You could buy half of Euper with this many coins." Misha said in surprise when he saw my horde.

"Well I haven't had all that much chance to spend them given the fact that I've been working to earn these over the past thirty years."

"What good does it do you just laying in a chest collecting dust?"

"What would I use it for?" I said as I dug out a shimmering handful of coins and put them on the desk where my journel was laying.

"Well, you could buy yourself some clothes, fine food or even your own house!"

"I travel too much to buy a house, my clothes are perfectly good, and I prefer simple food without any fancy spices." I said absently as I counted out a small stack of glimmering gold coins. These coins were of different denominations and from different countries but they weighed approximately the same.

"With that fursuit you're wearing my friend you’re traveling days are over."

"I think that I've figured that much out." I said before I handed him a hundred and ten gold coins, though I wasn't exactly sure of their value. He handed me the collar and I put it around my neck and then felt a shiver of cold work its way through my body. I could spar in the yard now without having to worry about overheating.

"Did you want to try sparring again Misha?" He looked at me and then shook his head before he replied

"Not right now Oberon I have some things that have to be taken care of in the Long Hall and I've put them off for long enough already." I nodded before I pointed out that I was going to go get some practice down in the practice grounds anyways.

Fifteen minutes later I stood in the middle of the grounds with my Gatraibvan swinging it hard without experiencing any signs of fatigue. This collar was amazing, I would have to find a way to thank the fox for it though I couldn't figure out how to at this point in time. I was careful with my weapons since wasn't sure of how to move. When I had been in combat on my first day I had been much more confident with my moves, but then I hadn't had to worry hitting my tail or legs because I was more concerned about hitting the lutins. Now I was working on my technique and trying to create new methods of wielding the weapon with my new body. One thing that I was realising was the fact that my tail got in on almost every movement that I did. This was going to take a fair amount of work for me to get used to but I would get it figured out. I put the weapon down and then focused my mind on nothing but my forms and then picked up the weapon and began to go through a series of movements that I was familiar with though I was modifying each move that went near my legs or my tail.

I don't really know how long I practiced but I suddenly heard a voice shout

"GO TO BED! Plenty of time in the morning for that." I looked around for a moment and then noticed a window up in the Keep that was open and there was a head poking out of the window. As usual it was Misha, that nosy fox, was looking in on what I was doing. I swiftly responded

"Why go to bed when I can get this figured out now?" The fox laughed brightly, though I could tell that he was tired, and responded by shouting

"Because even your body needs rest you foolish cat." I put down the weapon, feeling the fatigue in my bones before I finally conceded

"I guess so" before I put my weapon on my shoulder and headed for the nearest door that would lead me to the keep where I could turn in for the night and get some rest. I guess that my practicing could wait until tomorrow. When I reached my room I realized that I was probably at the end of my reserves of strength because my hands were trembling as I undid the clasps that held my cloak to my armour. It took me longer than I was used to for me to pull off my armour and weapons before I flopped into bed without even using the covers. I think that I was asleep when I hit the pillows.

{{series bar
|previous=[[Hot Under the Collar]]
|next=[[The Pointless Patrol]]
}}

Hot Under the Collar

2017-07-07T08:11:28Z

Lem: Corrected typos

[[Category:Story]] [[Category:Animal]]
{{DEFAULTSORT: Hot Under the Collar}}
[[Category:Metamor Keep]]
[[Category:Oberon]]
{{editing requested}}{{universe|Metamor Keep}}

By: [[User:Oberon|Oberon]]

When I got back to the Keep with my escort, a ferret morph whose name was Finbar, the first thing that I did was head for the baths. There I could take care of the dirt that was still in my fur from when I coated myself to avoid detection while I infiltrated a lutin encampment a couple of nights previously. My clothing was also in need of cleaning since it was dirty, too - partly because of my dirt trick, and partly because of the time that I had spent on the trail. As soon as I lowered myself into the water it turned black as the loose dirt began to be wash out of my thick fur. I used my hands to softly massage the fur to try and get the rest of the dirt out. It was at that point that Drift, the white Samoyed morph who I had met on my first full day of being conscious came into the room and took off his clothes before he slipped into the water.

He looked over at me and then his ears went back before he said, "You know Oberon you are crazy. To go offending Misha like you just did is probably one of the stupidest things that you could've done on only your second day here."

"I think that I understand that now and I will have to do something to to assuage his temper."

"My first piece of advice to you is not to go out there and do something foolish again. That's something that is bound to get Misha's tail in a knot, but, what you can do is to simply respect the rules around here and operate to the best of your abilities."

I nodded somewhat distractedly as I tried to get some of the dirt out of the fur on my neck ruff. He noticed the dirt and then asked me "Why is your fur so dirty?"

I grinned at him, confident that he knew what I meant in the gesture before I replied. "While I was out there I had to infiltrate a lutin encampment and I needed some way to avoid detection. In the winter that wouldn't be a problem but since it's spring and the all of the snow is already melted I kind of stand out in the bush."

Drift nodded in apparent understanding while I struggled to get the dirt out of my thick fur. When I was human I had used this trick many times to conceal myself, but now it seemed it was something that I should only do under the most dire of circumstances since it was such a pain in the tail to remove the dirt when the time came. Drift looked at me as I struggled with the dirt before he asked me if I had any brushes and the sort for grooming my fur.

"No, I have yet to get any of them - but I can assure you that now I will make a point of it."

"Well, there are some brushes here at the bath that you can use for the time being, but I would advise you to get your own as soon as you can."

“Thank you for the information,” I told him, before he left and I continued to clean out my fur. It took me another hour and a half to get all of the dirt out of my fur and restore it to its pristine black and white striped appearance. Once I was satisfied with my appearance I made my way back to my apartment to get dressed. I also spent some time exploring beyond a door that I hadn't seen the the first time that I was there, though I may have just missed it. Behind the door was a fully equipped forge with all of the implements that I would need to make any kind of weapon that I could imagine. In one corner there was the fire box itself with the bellows and the flue leading up and out of the room. In the middle of the room were two troughs, one contained water and the other contained oil, they were both used for tempering swords and other bladed weapons. There was also a box of clay in the corner and all of the various tools that I would need to do the job correctly. In a bin beside the fire-box was an assortment of ten iron rods that I would use to make anything that I wanted to. As a Blademaster of the Gold I was highly skilled in the creation of Kelmar weapons. Being both a Blademaster of the Gold and a Swordmaster of the Black I was, in fact considered a Bladelord of the Bronze. Bladelords were the rarest type of Kelmar Warrior with their numbers naturally limited to less than one hundred per generation. Most Kelmar Warriors excelled in only one discipline, either the creation of Kelmar weapons or the use of them; however bladelords were skilled in both the creation and utilization of weapons.

It had been roughly thirty years since I had had any chance to practice my skills as a Blademaster of the Gold. I would take this opportunity while it was here. However, right now I had something else to do, I needed to get some food, and I needed to purchase a grooming kit so that I could keep myself looking presentable. I put on a lighter belt that I had been storing for a long time and attached my single-handed sword, short-sword, and heavy dagger to it before I grabbed my favorite black cloak and headed out to take care of my errands.

I actually had to go into the town of Euper to find a kit that would fit my needs and it cost me a fairly large amount of money, considering that it was just a collection of brushes. The total that the merchant forced me to pay was a moon and five crescents. His reason was because the set was particularly complete and he complained about my coins because they were from the Midlands and not the same weight or purity as the coins that were from the Keep itself. I grumbled about the charge all the way back to my room, but as soon as I began using my own tools I appreciated the cost, even though it had been high. Once I was completed a proper grooming of my fur I went down to my usual mess facility for lunch before I went back to my room.

Now that I had eaten I was ready to begin work in the forge. I took one of the bars of iron and placed it on the anvil and began to beat on it with on of the larger hammers that was available. The first step in making a Kelmar Sword was to cold fold the metal one time before even starting to use heat to fold it a further nine times. The folding increased the blade's strength though it did have a tendency to make the metal more brittle. However that problem would also be solved by giving the weapon a core that was made out of more flexible steel that had only been folded the first time without heat. The final, and key step, in forging a Kelmar sword was the tempering process which utilized metal straps, clay, water, and oil to make the edge as hard as possible. I was starting from scratch and so had a lot of work to do in the next couple of weeks.

*

As Misha reached the Keep he thought about the mission against the lutin raiders that he had just led. It had gone well and the two remaining forces had been exterminated, though it had taken them nearly a week and a half to bring the last of the lutin parties to bay and destroy it. Though he didn't like to have to chase the lutins around the Giantdowns north of Glen Avery, he didn't like the idea that there were some lutin raiders still around ready to try and attack the town though it was well guarded, especially considering the fact that Misha's friend Charles Matthias was living there at the current time. The rat was probably one of Misha's greatest friends and one of the most fearsome fighters in the Long Scouts. He currently lived in Glen Avery after being sent there in the wake of the Yule Assault that had happened in December during the yuletide. Now, though, Misha was glad to be back at the Keep where Caroline and Madog and his other friends lived. Here he didn't have to worry about lutins coming out to ambush him in the halls. However his peace of mind was soon disturbed again when he asked about the crazy Kelmar Warrior that had caused all of the fuss in the first place. Just about no one had seen him since he had gotten back. That was just what he needed now, more trouble with that blasted warrior cat, this guy was turning into a major pain in the tail. Misha scoured the place from the baths to the bar before he finally got a hint from on of the other people in the keep. The man was an older guard that had worked in the keep almost all of his life.

"Well Misha sir, I've seen this guy you bin a lookin' fer off in da baths ever day but that not all, he also come by da main mess to eat his grub but he stay all by himself not talkin' to nobody."

"Thank you, old timer, I much appreciate the information." Misha was understating the facts quite a bit, he really wasn't in the mood to chase down that blasted cat in the Giantdowns north of the Keep. The fact that Oberon was still in the Keep was pleasing but there was still one thing that bothered Misha, and that was where Oberon spent his time if he wasn't down in the practice fields sparring with other soldiers. In the end he simply thought about where Oberon was and let Kyia carry him to where the Kelmar Warrior was currently spending his time. After a few minutes he stepped around the corner in the hall and found himself standing in front of a door that was marked with oddly shaped runes that he had never seen the like of before. He slowly raised a hand-paw and knocked on the worn-looking oak door.

*

I had just finished polishing and sharpening the last of my recently completed set of new weapons, which included a new hand-and-a-half long-sword, a short sword, and a new dagger. They were all marked with Kelmar God Runes that helped make them a little better than normal swords made of steel. These blades when properly forged wouldn't rust, dull, or chip making them almost incalculably valuable. I had also created a new sword belt to carry this set of weapons. As I ran the soft cloth over the gleaming metal of the blade and marveling at the Hatkarat Watermark on both edges of the blade a loud knocking sounded from the other room. I quickly stood up and placed the new sword in its scabbard and then took it in my left hand as I went to the door. When I opened it I was surprised to see Misha Brightleaf, the fox scout, standing in my doorway with an axe in his right hand. I bowed my head and then said something which I had been planning to say ever since I had gotten back to the Keep.

"Misha, I apologize for my actions up in the Giantdowns, and I hope that you can find it in your heart to forgive a foolish old warrior's harebrained escapade."

The fox looked surprised before I turned to where I had placed my newly crafted set of weapons and picked them up. I held the three weapons out to him. I had designed these weapons for his use and his use alone. Though I hadn’t managed to get precise measurements I had still managed to get the dimensions correct.

As I held out the three weapons out to him I said, "Sir, I have been in the service of many different people and organizations over the past thirty years, and I have almost forgotten some of the lessons that I was taught by my teachers in my homeland, all those long years ago. As a token of my respect and as a form of apology I would like to give these weapons to you. They are blessed by my gods never to lose their edge or luster so they will always serve you well in battle. You are probably the first non-Kelmar ever to receive weapons like these and so please carry them with the dignity and respect that they deserve."

He looked stunned for a moment, I could've hit him with one of the two remaining iron bars in my forge an not gotten a more stunned expression out of him then I was getting now. Finally he managed to put enough of his head back together to respond, although his response was still a little wooden. He took the weapons from my hands and then pulled the sword out of its scabbard to expose the runes and the hatkarat to the light of the sun that was streaming in through one of the windows in my apartment. After a few more minutes of regarding the weapon and gathering his thoughts together he finally managed to speak.

"I am a little surprised that you've decided to give this to me, considering what I said out there in the Giantdowns."

"No, even though I am shamed by what you said, all of those things were true. I didn't know the terrain, I didn't know my enemies, and I didn't know the risks. In truth if I was still under the command of a Kelmar Warlord I would've been in all likelihood been ordered to go remove myself from his sight, permanently."

"That is a little harsh isn't it?"

"Harsh but necessary, otherwise you would have Warriors who aren't trained as scouts running around in the deep woods trying to find the enemy with no concept for the common good of the Clan Army."

"Are you a trained scout?"

"Not really. I was trained as a Kaharatak, a Heavy Combat Specialist, though since I left my homeland roughly thirty years ago I have served as just about everything from a scout and assassin to a flag level officer in an army."

"If you aren't a trained scout, then why did you go out there without anyone else knowing about it?"

"I went out there for reasons that I've already explained. I don't take to well to not having a purpose in any place. Most of the time when I left someone's service I would do so because I perceived that they no longer really had a need for my services and that they were keeping me around simply because they enjoyed having a man of my skills around in case they needed me. Now here I am in a place that I can never really leave because of how I look and they view me in the same way as they did in some of my other assignments."

"Oberon, we don't view you that way, it's just that you have to follow the rules here. You need to prove your skills, your loyalty, and your ability to obey orders before I can even think of sending you out there. Even then it will not be my decision as to where you go, it will be up to Patrol Master George to decide."

"Haven't I already proven my abilities?"

"Yes, you have proven your abilities to me, but I am not the one that you need to be concerned about. The person that you need to impress is George." I nodded slowly before I asked him how I should go about doing that.

"Well for one you can follow all of the rules of the Keep. Though with your experience I believe that there are many jobs that would suit you. For instance if you could teach others how to make swords like this one you could probably be the most sought after smith in the Midlands."

e field when I was five and a fully fledged warrior by the time I was sixteen."

"That sounds like you didn't have much of a childhood."

"I enjoyed what I had and I made the most of it."

Misha looked at me for a second and then shook his head before he commented. "That still isn't much of a childhood."

I didn't say anything more. I just nodded my head and thought back to all of those hard years while I was growing up, learning from the masters of their crafts. The hundreds of hours learning discipline and swordsmanship, the times that I would spend outside in the grip of the cold north wind meditating on the meaning of the life of a warrior of the clan.

"Oberon, are you okay?" Misha's voice brought me out of my memories and back to the present.

"Yes I was just going over some of my memories. Trust me when I tell you that I have a lot of memories."

He looked into my eyes before he nodded and turned away. "If you don't mind we could go spar again for a while. It would help take your mind off of the past."

I nodded and told him that I would be a while. I had to put on my full body armour, though the leg pieces, and helmet didn't really fit anymore. Once that was done I grabbed one of my belts with a broad dagger and looped it around my waist and attached my normal hand-and-a-half long-sword to the loop on the my left hand side before I reached into the chest at the foot of the bed and grabbed one of my Gatraibvan practice swords and headed out the door towards the inner ward where there was some room for sparring. In the middle of the practice field there was a large group of young keepers swinging at targets. On the edge of the field watching the youngsters was a grizzled old jackal morph who looked like he had seen a lot of action in his career. Misha stepped out of the other door and then asked George if he wanted to spar with me. The old jackal looked over at me, where I was slowly taking practice swings with my weapon, and then nodded before he went off to put some armour on. I wouldn't usually have worn full armour but under the circumstances I had decided that it might be a good idea.

"Oberon, why don't you have a helmet?" Misha asked me.

"I don't have one, because my old one no longer fits and neither do my greaves."

"Well the Arsenal Tower has something that will fit you."

"How can you be sure about that?"

"The tower is part of Metamor Keep and hence is provided with any kind of weapon or armour that you could imagine. Though it doesn't do all that well when it comes to weapons like your swords since they are enchanted to some extent."

I nodded before Misha shouted to one of the young keepers to go get an assortment of helmets and greaves to fit me. Five minutes later George and then the young soldier came out of the tower, George wearing a brigantine with a shield on his left arm and a training broadsword. I looked over the assortment of helmets and greaves that the young Pine Marten held in his arms and selected a helmet and a pair of greaves that fitted me perfectly. The nice thing about these new pieces of my armour was that they matched perfectly the style of my existing equipment. Once I was comfortable I picked up my training sword and held it over my head in the style that was known as Btrena-Kel-Yukate. Kelmar training swords were actually heavier then combat swords so that if a warrior got used to his training sword then he would find the real thing to be easier to use than the training sword.

George made the first move, a sudden lunge at my exposed midsection but I brought down my own weapon and parried the blow before counter-attacking with a blow of my own to his left side. George's moves showed both an immense amount of experience and his growing age so I took it easy on him. I didn't go too easy, though, because I still had to prove to the old warrior that I was at least reasonably competent with my weapon. However, what I wasn't expecting was the deviousness of his maneuvers. He seemed to know any number of moves that were underhanded and just plain nasty. After only ten minutes I was panting and feeling hot. Blasted fur! It wasn't really meant for constant heavy activity in the latter end of spring.

When I lowered my weapon in a silent request for a break the jackal lowered his weapon before asking me, in a gruff tone of voice, "Are you all right?"

I waved him off before I replied. "It's okay, I'm just a little warm right now." I went over to where a jug of water sat on a cobblestone and took a heavy drink lapping at the cold watter with a will. The cold water felt so good that I was surprised when I noticed that the jug was empty. I looked around for another jug of water and I found one nearby and began to drink that as well.

"Oberon, are you sure that you're okay?" I heard Misha ask me. I raised my head from my drink and looked at him before I replied.

"It's nothing, I'm just a little hot that's all."

"Get out of that armour now."

"No, I'll be fine, just give me a moment."

"Get out of that damn armour, you furry fool, and into some cool water before you get heatstroke!" I put the Gatraibvan on the ground and then reached up to undo the clasps on my cloak but my vision was starting to swim. I looked over at the fox and the jackal only to see more than one of them.

"Wwwwwwwwwhhhhhhhhhooooooooooo arrrrrreeee yyyyyyyyyoooooooooooouuuuuuuuuuuuu," I slurred before I hit the ground with my hands. My vision was now seriously degrading as I tasted the warm stones of the practice grounds. In the distance I heard a voice shouting.

"Get that armour off of him and get us some water, he's going into heat shock." At some point someone rolled me onto my back and undid the clasps to my armour and my cloak. An instant later I was hit by a deluge of pure bliss as someone dumped a bucket of cold water on me. After that everything black as I passed out.

I don't know how long it was but when I awoke I was looking up at a very familiar ceiling. I was in the infirmary again though I couldn't remember why I was here this time. Maybe I got hit on the head because my head was pounding like a Hjaktan War Drum.

"You're covered in fur now Oberon. You need to always worry about the heat. You might want to consider clipping off all that thick winter fur in the summer," I heard a voice say, and I managed to look over and see Misha standing there looking down at me with an expression that I can only describe as a sort of frustrated concern. For some reason this fox always seemed to be saving my hide. Finally I mustered a response.

"Are you out of your mind? I do have my dignity - what's left of it at least - and I will not go around naked."

Misha laughed before he replied. "It's either your dignity or heat prostration. You '''have''' to deal with the heat one way or another."

"Is there any way that I can maintain my dignity without burning up?"

"Perhaps, but it will mean some magic. I made a magic a ring for Drift to protect him from the heat of his tinsmithy. I could do the same for you."

"What would I owe you for that, sir?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "A hundred suns, perhaps, for the metals I'll need. The spell is simple enough."

"That sounds good. I can give you the money as soon as I get out of this infirmary."

"Good! What do you want? A ring? I'm not a jeweler so it won't look fancy but it will work!"

"Okay but I think that a collar would probably suit me a little better, I could lose a ring in the middle of a battle and then where would I be?"

"All right. It'll be a big collar to fit that fat neck of yours. I should have the collar roughed out in a day or two."

"I'll take it easy for now until I get it because I don't want to go through this again."

"You have to think furry now my friend. And remember that long tail of yours. The first time you get it caught in a door you WILL feel it."

"I've been very careful about it and I've managed to keep it out of the way most of the time. I think that my experiences with my Soul Guide have helped me adjust to it, though I have put it in my own door once and I can tell you that I won't ever forget that feeling, no matter how long I live."

He laughed before shaking his head, probably at a memory, before he told me that I should try and be more careful for the next little while, at least until I got my collar from him. Shortly after that he left me in the room to my own thoughts. Well not precisely alone, because shortly afterwards Brian came up to me.

"Do you know how hard I had to work to save your life, Adòn Naharél?" he asked me.

I shook my head carefully to ensure that I didn't get a headache before I replied. "Not really, sir, but I will try and make sure that it doesn't happen again."

"You had better, because I'm starting to get tired of seeing your tail in here every day."

"You think I like always being here, Brian? I have a life to lead and I would rather I didn't spend too much time in the infirmary. Although my profession does dictate that I will be here from time to time, to get patched up."

"Certainly hope not."

"Same here, I would rather not have to spend any time here, but it seems that I have still to adjust to this body." Every person in the Keep had had to adjust to whatever the curse did to them, but all the same none of them had come in here so quickly after.

I nodded at the raccoon before I let my head fall back to the pillow to get some more sleep. I knew that when I awoke again I would end up going back to my apartment, without the headache, hopefully the three runes on my back and my inherent Kelmar ability to heal could take care of any issues that arose from my abuse of my body today. However, I was going to have to be more careful about what I did in the near future.

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