The Winter Assault

---

12/24 – 8:30pm

As Ryuo ran through the courtyard, following the faint sounds of clashing metal, his mind raced with what he had to do. His first thought was to head for the gate into the lower town, and he headed in that general direction, or at least as close as he could follow in the pure white conditions. Ice and snow flew at him, the storm pelting him with debris.

Peering through the snow, something seemed to glint in the distance. Ryuo hurried forward and saw that it was a building that seemed to have caught on fire. In a brief moment of clarity through the whipping snows, Ryuo realized it was the Keep's stables; the whinny of panicked horses reached Ryuo's ears from the burning buildings. Realizing that his own steed was trapped in the blazing inferno, Ryuo knew there was not a moment to lose.

Running at full tilt towards the orange glow in the night, Ryuo almost tripped over the Lutins who waited outside. The green goblins were just as surprised, and their reactions were sluggish in the blizzard conditions.

Ryuo cut down two before they could turn about, and a third was caught with a downward strike as he began to raise a weapon to strike. Hurrying past the bodies, Ryuo ignored the others outside for the moment, rushing into the stables, his attention focused on Kaze, with whom he had crossed half a continent.

As he came upon the front of the stables, Ryuo could see several horses lying dead in the snow, having been the victims of Lutin weapons. Though already covered in a thin layer of snow, Ryuo could see that neither of them were his own precious steed.

Inside the burning stables, it was a mess. Horses were obviously panicked, and Ryuo could see a band of Keepers, led by a rooster, it appeared, speaking soothing words to some of the panicked animals. So intent was the rooster on calming the great beasts that he did not see the saber-wielding Lutin about to slice into him. The creature had apparently snuck into the burning stables for some inane reason -perhaps a dare, or perhaps just suicidal.

Ryuo gave a shout, and the rooster turned, his beak dropping open as his eyes went wide. The Lutin's saber flashed downwards, but it never reached its intended target. Instead, Ryuo's own tanto sprouted from its back, causing it to falter and fall to the ground. Ryuo finished it off with his long sword, and then took up the tanto, wiping it off quickly and resheathing it.

The rooster said something that Ryuo could not understand. The rooster pointed to the horse, and then pointed outside, making an image of a house. Ryuo simply nodded, realizing that the horses would need to be evacuated from the burning building. That couldn't happen with the Lutins outside, however. Ryuo ran through the stables, and found his own steed. Patting him on the neck, Ryuo grimaced as he realized that he would probably lose his tack in the blaze, but there was little time. Ryuo opened the paddock where Kaze stood, and led him to the door.

"Wait!" Whispered Ryuo to his steed. Kaze stood stock still despite the flames, just has he had been taught. Ryuo grinned and gave Kaze a reassuring pat, and then turned to the rooster. "Ready. After us... go." he said with his broken speech.

Suddenly, Ryuo jumped back out into the cold. The Lutins had formed up a half-circle around the stable, but Ryuo's charge broke their formation. Shining steel flashed from the darkness, cutting through a raised spear and into the bony skull below. A sword missed as he stepped back to withdraw the blade, and then a circular, continuous sweep took out four more of the creatures. Turning around he could see that he had made it through the line, and now, all of the green heads turned towards Ryuo. It was exactly as he planned.

"Come!" he yelled in his native Yamato tongue. As he cut down another Lutin, a shape resolved itself from the darkness. Like a night-mare of legend, Kaze rushed outside and began attacking the surprised Lutins, many of whom threw up their hands as Kaze's hooves rained down on them, trampling green bodies underfoot. As rider and steed worked together in the snow, both fighting as best they could, Ryuo yelled out again into the storm. "Now!" he cried in vulgar language of Metamor.

The hooves were thunderous as horses were rushed from the building, following along the path Ryuo and Kaze had cleared. As the last of the first wave left, Ryuo cleared the attackers from Kaze and made a motion with one hand. Kaze broke from the fighting, following the rest of the horses off to safety. As they disappeared into the white darkness, Ryuo continued his own fight.

The white snow was blinding, and the roar of the wind deafening. Ryuo had never before faced such adverse conditions; no opponent before had been so suicidal as to attack in the middle of a blizzard. Ryuo sliced downwards, severing through a Lutin's arm, he then turned and brought the blade up to the creatures face, slicing through the lower half of its jaw and sending it screaming to the winter snow's icy grasp.

If Ryuo was having trouble, he could at least console himself that the Lutins were just as bad off, if not worse. They had not practiced blind-fighting in light-forsaken caves, nor had they the discipline of his own training. His sword flashed out into the night, and it seemed to catch the Lutins just as they came into view. Two sets of eyes went wide as the sword swung horizontally towards them. Then, the four eyes sailed into the darkness, freed from the headless bodies that slumped to the ground.

Ryuo gave little thought to their deaths, but rammed the sword backwards, catching another Lutin in the gut, he then stepped to his left and rose, causing another Lutin to fly past him; Ryuo caught him in the back with the down stroke of his raised sword.

Ryuo could not see the blood that he had spilt, but he could smell it faintly from the quickly cooling bodies of the Lutin corpses. If this many Lutins were already inside the walls, they must have made it inside the Keep by now as well, Ryuo figured. That meant the Duke was in danger. Glancing once more to make sure that there were no more Lutins in the immediate area, Ryuo turned back towards the snow-obscured spires of the Keep, racing for the nearest gate, and hoping he was not already too late.

---

12/24 - 8:30pm

The wind was like a hard slap in the face as soon as Rickkter stepped through the door. While he would have preferred that it helped to sober him up, all it served to do was remind him how rather underdressed he was and set his teeth chattering. Pulling his tunic tighter about his neck, Rickkter hunched his shoulders and continued onwards through the snow. The light from the door behind him was fading quickly and the large braziers that designated the main gates beyond the stables were hardly more than indistinct orange blotches in the night. At least when they passed through the long archway Rickkter saw other soldiers scrambling to man the walls. Well, that’ll help should any Lutins get by, he reflected briefly.

The wind outside the walls was worse than inside, and Rickkter made a vain attempt to block it with a paw as he turned his head away from it and hunched over. Fighting in this was going to be a royal bitch. Especially considering they had made their way a good distance into the woods. Well, hopefully his magic would offset that. Reaching out with his mind he began to draw in the manna.

No, that wasn’t right, thought Rickkter as he pulled the energy to himself. Something else was consuming manna from the whole region and in quantities he could scarcely believe possible. It was also impairing his own ability to draw on that energy. He was about to cast out his probes to determine where it was coming from when the captain snapped him out of it.

“Well, mage,” she hollered over the wind, “time for you to do your thing. Where the hell are they?!”

Nodding, Rickkter closed his eyes and turned his back to the wind in order to concentrate. A small snarl came to his muzzle and he twisted his head more to the side, forcing himself to scan further into the darkness. Marcusson was about to ask if anything was wrong when the raccoon snapped up his head and sucked in a breath through his teeth. His sword was out in a blink and he started backpedaling through the snow, his head whipping around. “Captain, get your men back to the walls now. Before we’re all killed.”

Captain Marcusson turned and peered out into the darkness and snow. “Damn, are you sure it’s that bad? How many of them are there out there?”

“That’s the whole problem,” Rickkter hollered at her. “I don’t know how many are out there! I can’t sense anything six feet in front of my fucking face! And even that’s a stretch. This whole blizzard is one gigantic spell designed to inhibit any magic besides its own and probably its casters. That’s why we never heard anything of this army from the outposts and watchtowers; they couldn’t tell us, even if the wanted to!”

He could barely hear the captain curse over the wind. “That’s definately going to complicate things. We’ll need to set ourselves into ambush positions, using the drifts for cover.”

“What?!”

“You heard me! We’re staying out here and we’re going to meet them. The snow may limit sight and magic, but they’re under the same limitations. Now I suggest you find a way around this field of theirs before they show up.”

Rickkter rounded on her. “Damn it! Listen to me! You’ve got to pull back now! Fortify the walls, deploy the men along them and make the stand there!”

“NO! We’ve got to make a stand before the walls.”

“Doing it out here is crazy!” yelled Rickkter as the wind tore through his cheek fur. “They’ve got the advantage of surprise, no matter the fact that we know they’re out there; they’ve almost certainly got us out numbered; and between the snow and the dampening field that they control, they’ve effectively blinded us! Turn back now before the men are all killed!”

“You said you had no experience with winter warfare, Rickkter, which is why you should let me handle it!”

“Even the blindest grunt can see that this is suicide! Now pull the men back now, Captain! Before I make that an order.”

Marcusson opened her mouth as if to counter, only to have her attention diverted like everyone else by the sudden disappearance of the blinding snow. Left in its place was a line of Lutin warriors holding torches and gazing at the bedraggled keepers. Their line was more a mob as they looked into the momentary lull and met the angry stares of the attacking army. In the shadows close at his left Rick could see the walls of the keep, defined by the line of unwavering mage-lights along the crenellations. Among the steady white glow of the magical illuminations Rick could see the dimmer, flickering motes of torches.

“Ah, shit,” Rickkter muttered.

---

12/24 - 8:45pm

As Ryuo approached the gates he found them slightly ajar. Rushing forward, he sensed an aggressive presence to his right side. Unsure whether it was friend or foe, he blocked upwards, twisting around and rolling into the Keep. Metal caught metal and flashed briefly. As Ryuo rose, the attacker pushed his advantage, and Ryuo had no choice but to defend himself.

The man appeared to be a human, although he was dressed in furs from head to foot. In one hand was a broadsword, the favored weapon of most westerners, it seemed. This one was slightly larger than others Ryuo had seen, and the man wielded it with two hands. One of those hands had a small, round shield attached to it just below the wrist, as Ryuo deflected the blow with a wrist cut, the shield caught his blade, the man then raised his arms to block the blow to his head. However, his arms were out too wide, and Ryuo's sword was deflected only partially, cutting into the upper flesh of the muscled appendage.

The man screamed— whether in rage or pain, Ryuo could not tell— and brought down his sword with a speed that almost caught Ryuo off-guard. Built-in reflexes saved the eastern warrior as he stepped to the side, letting the great sword miss him by barely an inch. Taking the warrior's momentum, Ryuo reached out with his hilt and pulled slightly down and back.

Arms foundering, the warrior's eyes opened wide in surprise as his center of balance was lost. Pitching forward, he had to throw his hands out to catch his fall. In this moment of weakness, Ryuo struck, his sword cutting deep into the man's neck, as though he were the second at a ritual suicide. The man's head bowed forward, the vertebrae disconnected, and his head hanging on by no more than a flap of skin and his exposed trachea. His arms went limp, and he fell completely to the floor.

Ryuo took only a brief moment to close the doors, of the gates. He could see that the doors had been forced in, and could not now be properly barred against intrusion. Cursing under his breath, Ryuo toppled a nearby statue in front of the doors, hoping that would hold any more invaders for at least a while. He then headed off into the belly of the Keep.

As Ryuo ran through the halls, he could see they were soaked with blood. Lutin and Keeper bodies littered the floor; most of the Keepers appeared to have been caught completely be surprise.

Glancing down at the blood-soaked floor, Ryuo could see some faces that he recognized; almost all of them people he had seen on patrols, or guarding the walls of the Keep. He didn't know their names, but the death of each one was another blow to his sense of honor.

It was not that they were gone that upset the bold Inari; he had hardly known most of them, and besides, death was only the inevitable conclusion of Life that all warriors shared. It was, instead, how each death seemed an affront to him and the promise he had made when he had first arrived at the Keep. He felt somehow responsible -perhaps if he had only paid more attention to the signal, and recognized it for what it was, he could have stopped some of this.

A grunt ahead of him brought him to a halt, his battle-sense freeing him from his moment of self-deprecation. Ahead was a band of Lutins, licking their bloodied weapons. A pile of Keeper bodies lay beneath them. They seemed to be trying to decide which passageway they should follow when one turned to see Ryuo. Twin golden orbs of hateful spite turned towards the fox, and a sadistic grin exposed bloodstained teeth. Laughing, it knocked one of its companions with a backhand, and the rest of the Lutins turned to look down the corridor as well, the grin spreading to all of their faces. Gleefully, they advanced, hoping that the Keeper would run, so that they could revel in the chase.

Ryuo stood his ground. The first two creatures that approached carried short spears, just small enough to be of use in the tight confines of the inner hallways. Working with amazing coordination, for Lutins, the pair advanced, causing Ryuo to take a quick step backwards. The retreat only encouraged the bloodthirsty fiends.

Shooting out from the left, the first Lutin lunged at a perceived opening in Ryuo's defenses. Having anticipated the move, Ryuo pivoted to his right, opening a path for the spear to continue forward unimpeded. Grabbing the haft of the spear with his left hand, Ryuo extended along its chosen path. Using the creature's moment of imbalance, Ryuo pivoted once more, coming behind the creature and throwing an arm around its scrawny neck. His right hand struck with his long sword at the second spear-wielder. As the Lutin's skull split open, Ryuo twisted quickly, breaking the first Lutin's neck.

Yet even as their comrades fell, the others rushed forward. The hallway left precious little room for any lateral maneuvers as a third Lutin's sword struck down. Ryuo raised his right hand, dropping the katana's blade as he did so. Stepping forward, he caught the Lutin's blow and used its momentum to turn his own in a wide circle. Bringing up his left hand for added power, Ryuo stepped forward and to the right, bringing the blade down to cut into the flesh of the Lutin's back.

Raising his sword to the ready once more, Ryuo was forced to step back again to dodge a spiked mace. As the mace swung past, Ryuo reversed his momentum, taking the offensive. His sword trailed off to his right as he stepped into another Lutin's sword, catching the attacker at the hilt. Drawing the sword and wrist down and around, he brought it up to parry a second swing of the spiked mace, trapping both weapons in the air. Pressing both weapons high, he shifted his grip on the katana and turned, simultaneously slicing through both bellies, spilling gray-green intestines onto the floor like a nest of writhing worms.

Standing victorious above the five bodies, Ryuo spared only a moment to look at the many bodies lying about. A fair number of Lutins had been killed before Ryuo had arrived, but it had not been enough. Looking over the dead Keepers, he saw there was nothing he could do for them anymore. Quickly and smoothly he wiped clean the gleaming steel of his death-dealing blade, and continued on into the Keep.

---

Oren was still small when he came bounding down the stairs. He motioned for Gornul, who followed him into the minister's chamber.

Once inside, Oren closed the door and shifted back to his taller, humanoid form. "Gornul," he said. "I want you to go into the Keep and to the Follower sanctuary. Find Father Hough. Tell him that I will be sending our congregation in a few minutes. They will be arriving believing that he has sent us a special invitation to meet together."

Gornul projected an image of a knife held by a clenched fist; his symbol for danger.

"Yes," Oren replied. "Although we don't know the nature yet. I don't want to panic anyone. Tell Father Hough to get ready to receive visitors. I'll send them over in a few minutes."

A few minutes later he was standing in the entrance to the tower’s main room. "Attention everyone! Can I have your attention, please? I've just received word that our brothers, the Followers, have asked our Immerser congregation to join them for a special celebratory service. They'll be starting in an hour or so. If anyone wants to attend, I'd recommend heading over now."

As Oren had hoped, the assembly began shrinking as one by one, the celebrants made their way to the door. Each time one of the Hipocci warriors came by, he'd politely ask them to wait around a bit.

There were a few stragglers who simply wouldn't take the hint. Blake and Shamgar stood around being snugly. Desuka stayed behind, demanding to know why, as the worship leader, he had not been informed of such an invitation.

Oren, when he was satisfied that all had left who were going to, got set to announce what he had learned from Leo.

He didn't speak, he was silenced by the ringing of a distant bell.

"The alarm!" cried Shamgar. "We're being attacked!"

"TO ARMS!" Oren ordered, but it was too late. The door gave a sudden thunderous crash and burst open, spilling a disjointed flood of little green murderers into the building.

Oren was cut off from his friends by the Lutins. There was no way he could fight them all, especially unarmed. He had no choice but to flee up the stairway and hope that the others found their own way out.

Upward the otter ran, Lutins hot on his heels. There was no time to even stop at the armory to obtain a weapon.

When he reached the sixth floor, the tower shook, as though it had been thumped by a giant hand. This made the Lutins stumble, allowing Oren a few precious seconds to put distance between himself and his attackers.

"Oren!" called Natalie from the top level. "What is going... OH!"

"MORPH! QUICK!"

The lass obeyed, rapidly changing from a small draconian to a ten-foot tall dragon. Oren trusted her to read his intentions, and so, becoming as small an otter as he could, he ran and leaped out over the side of the tower. Fear gripping his heart, he could only watch as the snowy ground loomed ever closer.

A pair of enormous hands saved Oren from certain death. He let out an adrenaline-powered whoop as he zoomed over the landscape, hang-gliding from a dragon.

"Where do we go?" called Natalie, her voice quaking.

"To the river! There's an emergency meeting place there!"

She soon saw what the otter meant. He directed her to a very carefully concealed cave near the bank of the river. It was so covered in growth that, even with the leaves long gone, it would have been impossible to spot from any distance.

Inside they were relieved to find their friends and allies. A few were trembling with fear, Blake was holding a little green hand in front of her face and chanting "I got one! I got one!" like a mad woman.

"Oren!" called Jesse.

"Thank Yahweh, you're all right!"

"Me? I was afraid I wouldn't see YOU again! That earthquake..."

"Was me making an escape route," Jesse said with a smile. His smile quickly faded, however, when he looked past Oren at the keep. The others came to stand beside him, one by one, gawking at the sheer horror of the scene before them.

Metamor Keep was being invaded by the armies of Nasoj.

And in the lighthouse which the Hipocci called home, the light flickered and died.

"Our home," whispered Sambrea, one of the younger warriors. "It's the fall of Hipocc all over again, and we were powerless to stop it."

"NO!"

The cry came from Alyxander, Oren's nephew, a lad even younger than Sambrea, who was not even of age to be changed by the curse. Finding all eyes upon him, Xan explained his outburst. "When our village fell to Devil's Strand, we ran away and hid in caves in the wilderness. What did that get us? Nothing! It sure didn't do a thing to rebuild Hipocc. Now we have a second chance. I for one know what I'm going to do. I'm going to get me a weapon, and I'm going to go in there and TAKE BACK OUR LIGHTHOUSE!"

"He's right," said one of the older Hipoccians. "We've got to take it back. For Metamor!"

"For Metamor!" Shamgar echoed.

"For Metamor!" voices chorused.

"Heh heh!" Blake chuckled as she waved her trophy about. "Let's stick it to them little green guys!"

And so the planning began.

---

The sharp peals of the bell barely penetrated through the thick walls of the Keep into the library and through the thinner ones of Fox Cutter’s personal office, so normally he never heard them. Sitting where he was, in one of the overstuffed chairs near the back of the bottom level of the library, contentedly reading over a few favorite tales in the children’s storybook that he had been using all day, it took a few minutes for the bells to impress their purpose on him. His first reaction was one of baffled disbelief. Alarm bells on Christmas Eve? Who in their right mind would be attacking now, and in the middle of a blizzard of all things?

Fox closed the heavy tome and set it beside his chair, focusing more of his attention on the bells. No, they were still ringing. That would mean it wasn’t some sort of drunken prank. But the alternative was equally unthinkable.

Leaving the sanctuary of the brightly burning reading lamps behind, Fox made his way though the well known maze of shelves up towards the large windows that went all around the third level of the library itself. It was a long trek up the flights of stairs, but not something unusual for him. He was thankful that the rest of the lights in the library at this level had been extinguished when he had chased the last few people out a half hour ago or so, so it was easier for him to see the outside.

Not that there was a lot to see. White. Everywhere he looked, blowing white. Damn, this was a full fledged blizzard, who in their right minds would be out in that? he wondered yet again. Perhaps Nasoj was crazier than anyone else had him figured for. Finally reaching the window itself, Fox cupped his hands over his eyes and pressed up against the ancient glass. Patiently he stood there gazing into the blackness and blowing white, hoping that his eyes would adjust enough to pick up something of what was going on outside.

The alarm bells still hadn’t stopped ringing. And Fox had a bad feeling of what would happen when they finally did.

---

12/24 - 9pm.

"Okay, where do we go from here?"

The scene is a muddled one at best. In one corner are huddled some two score children of the Keep, a few of then cowering and shaken, many of them puzzled and not knowing what's going on but silenced by the appearance of Jeremy's dad. Kevin is in the opposite corner, looking like he's been in pretty bad shape, but getting slowly better as Joanne binds his wounds - Daemion watching closely as she does so. Derek is clinging to Kirk and refusing to let go; Kirk himself is standing awkwardly in the corner, uncertain of how to deal with Derek and just holding. Dana is next to her brother, patting at Derek's head and cooing, trying to make sure he's all right. Perry is at the door, sword at the ready, a grim look on his face, clearly ready to deal with anything that might come through that door with evil intent.

And pacing back and forth at the front of the room is Jono, hands behind his back, looking most worried and uncertain. It is he who has just spoken, and is continuing to speak.

"We can't get to the Lothanasi temple from here; the Lutins almost certainly have that place surrounded by now and we can't keep track of all the kids while fighting. Likewise for the Ecclesian Chapel; it's even farther away, and also likely to have been an early target. Long House is probably going to be in dire straits as all the Longs were partying and so probably aren't fully prepared for an invasion. The Banquet Hall is going to be locked up tighter than a Seuliman ruin, the village can easily be burned down, and the Duke's Tower will probably be rubble before we get there. That blocks all the major defensible points in the Keep."

"There's the network of tunnels under the Keep," Kirk points out. "The Lutins aren't likely to go deep into there; it gets pretty dangerous for them."

"What's dangerous for the Lutins is also dangerous for our kids," Jo points out, looking up briefly from the mouse's wounds. "We have to keep that in mind."

"Right," Jono says. "We can't stay in the tunnels, but they're probably safer than this room. We can keep that option open as a possible exit path if necessary. What else?"

"Towers along the southern walls are likely to be pretty well defended," says Perry, barely even looking up. "The gatehouse and killing ground area are always well manned. They're also more likely to be attacked, but at least there'll be more good troops there to keep the enemy busy."

"So we head south?" Dana asks.

Kirk nods. "Would make sense that the Lutins would come from the north and get in earliest way possible any ways, especially in this weather. South is likely to be the safest direction."

"Okay," says the cat, standing up straight. "Here's my plan. We'll have to be exposed for a bit, but we can probably make it. We're within about fifty yards of the Inner Gate when we start from the South Gate, so we can probably make it, and there's almost certainly an entrance to the tunnels there that we can reach. Once we're there, we take the tunnels as far south as we can go 'till we find a good resting spot, and we all take watches while the kids get some sleep. Then, Christmas morning, we get back up, keep taking the tunnels until we get to the Killing Ground area. We ought to be pretty safe there. If not, we can keep going along the tunnels and, Kyia willing, that'll get us to the nearest fortress outpost; we can certainly hole up in there. Anyone have anything to add?"

"Fifty yards across the snow? That's going to be a bit of a stretch, especially for the children," Jo says.

"I know it's risky, but it looks like the best option we have," counters Jono. "The Lutins are going to want to spend less time fighting and more time pillaging, so we may have a better chance of it if we move while they're doing so."

Kirk nods. "Agreed. The Lutins are mainly cowards at heart; they prefer to spend their time stealing."

"All right..." Jono takes in a deep breath, then heads over to the kids and kneels before them. "Okay, everybody, we're going to have a bit more trouble before we're through, but then we're going to be safe. But it's really, really important that the bad guys don't hear us. So I'm going to make a deal with you all."

He spreads his paws wide - this is going to be something of wonderment. "When we get out of this, and all the bad guys are away from Metamor, if all of you - every single child - manages to stay quiet and not disturb the bad guys, Everybody gets a Big slice of blueberry pie when we get back!" He grins widely, trying to downplay the danger. _Can't let them get frightened..._

One child speaks up. "Um... Uncle Jono?" Her voice sounds rather shaky.

Jono looks at her concernedly. "Yes, Sara?"

"I... I don't like blueberry.." she says in a timid voice.

Jono chuckles, smiling again. "Okay, any kind of pie you like!"

The faces of all the children in general become Much brighter. Success. Now for the hard part...

"Okay, I have to go work with the other grown-ups; we have to get ready to go. When we get outside, I need you to run and run and run as fast as you possibly can along with Dana over there and Jo all the way to the Inner Gate, you understand? You need to keep up, because there are lots of bad guys who like to eat little kids who will try to get you if you slow down. But Kirk and Perry and Jo and I are all going to do our best to make sure that none of you get eaten, because you all have big pieces of pie that need to get eaten and so we can't let the bakers down. Okay?"

There is a chorus of nods. Some of the kids look a little more worried now, but not too much - this is big Uncle Jono, he's been part of lots of stories that he's told us, he just saved Derek from getting eaten, sure he can take care of me .

"Okay? Great!" Jono gets back up. "All right, folks, let's start gearing up. We leave in ten minutes."

---

12/24 - 9:15pm.

Perry opens the door a crack and peeks out one way. Then he opens the door a little more and looks around it.

"No Lutins. We're clear" he whispers.

"Okay" comes Jono's whisper from behind. Perry steps out, followed closely behind by Jono. They both take up positions each watching an end of the corridor. Then Kirk starts heading out, followed by a stream of children, Kevin walking among them, with Jono staying in front while Perry stays in place. Dana and Jo bring up the rear of the stream, Jo closing the door behind her, and then they head off, with Perry bringing up the rear.

Each of the children keeps completely silent as they move along - nobody wants to miss out on their chance at a slice of pie. Kirk and Jono trade positions, Jono now slinks along as quietly as any cat, coiled whip in one hand, while Kirk stays in front, ready to greet either his fellow troops at the gate, or an ill-fated horde of Lutins. Jo has one of her daggers out and Dana has her sword drawn; Perry doesn't, but his paw stays on the hilt, just in case.

As soon as they turn the corner, a "Who goes there?" comes from the direction of the gate.

Kirk relaxes. "That's Barklund. We almost certainly still own the gate." Then he calls back. "Commander Kirkland Russell, with party of over two score."

There's an audible sigh of relief, and then three soldiers appear from various places of concealment. "Commander, glad to see you're still all right."

"Likewise for yourself, Corporal. What state is the gate in?"

"Holding, sir," the soldier reports. "They stopped banging on it about five minutes after you left; we think they were ordered to the Duke's Keep instead. We're not terribly close to any major gathering spots, so we think it likely they want the manpower elsewhere, sir."

Kirk nods, then waves everyone forward. Kevin notes the signal, gives the same to the trio in back, and they head for the Gate, Kirk explaining their plan to Barklund all the while. Jono turns to the kids and puts his paw to his lips, indicating silence. The game is still going, and so the kids don't speak.

---

The doors don't look damaged at all when they finally get there, and nobody is banging on them. "So far so good..." Jono says softly as Dana moves up to join him. "Everyone ready to get moving?"

"Just about." Kirk turns to Barklund. "Okay. You're in charge of this gate while I'm away. Hold it as long as you can until relieved. If this proves impossible at any point, you are to abandon this place and take all available weapons and men to the Banquet Hall, where you should receive new orders. If the Banquet Hall has been evacuated, your next destination should be the Chapel. Is this understood?"

"Sir!" Barklund says, standing at attention. "Orders will be carried out exactly as you say, sir."

"Good." Kirk nods to the Corporal, then turns towards the doors. "Be prepared to open the doors on my order, and reclose them on Corporal Barklund's!" he yells to the gate crew. There is a chorus of "Yes Sirs!” as the orders are acknowledged.

"Everybody get ready to run!" Jono says to the kids, who are even now gathering up into threes as discussed before, several of them very scared, but all of them determined not to let Uncle Jono down. "All ready?" There's a chorus of nods. "Ready in back?" Jono calls to Perry and Jo, who also nod. "Dana?" She nods. "Okay, Kevin, do your thing..."

Kevin closes his eyes, breathes deeply, and then begins to chant, recasting the warming spell he'd had running earlier. "Got it. We're all ready to go..."

Kirk lowers himself down so his horns are pointed outward, breathing heavily, preparing himself. "Barklund?"

"Sir. Good luck, sir."

Kirk nods, then calls out.

"OPEN THE GATES!"

The doors have barely swung open before Kirk has taken off, bellowing and charging like any other enraged bull, clearing a path for the children.

"LET'S GO!" screams Jono, and with that he and Dana are off, with nearly fourscore children running as fast as they have ever flown in their lives after Uncle Jono.

---

Rickkter’s ears rang with the peal as his sword connected with the cheap steel of a Lutin sword. The Lutin swung again and Rickkter blocked again. This time, though, he was able to get his sword past his opponent’s and bring it down right into the Lutin’s little green face. The jarring feel of cracking the thick skull was still lingering in Rickkter’s arms as he pulled the blade free and ducked another attack, using the katana to slice open that Lutin’s belly.

The guts of that one steamed on the fresh snow at the raccoon’s feet as Rickkter straightened up. Around him were the bodies of almost ten Lutins, but also three keepers. Fortunately he was able to catch his breath and make a quick survey of the battle. And his only impression was that it was turning into a slaughter; for both sides. The snow was swift returning as well, beginning to reduce visibility once more, the cold wind howling against the unyielding stone of Metamor’s walls.

Growling, Rickkter threw up his arms and cast a quick lightening spell into the enemy horde. It was both a good and bad thing that he didn’t have to aim. The strike arched from his fingers and into the Lutins, throwing up bodies from the impact. But this was a special lightening spell, a particularly nasty one. Instead of just hitting once, it kept bouncing along in a line, further devastating the opposing army. He couldn’t admire his work any further, as a group of seven Lutins demanded his attention. Growling curses in human tongues and as a simple raccoon, Rickkter fended off two of them as the rest attempted to circle. A feline growl behind him heralded the arrival of a cheetah morph, who took on three more himself. The cat’s lighting reflexes and light sword were probably what saved him long enough for Rickkter to come to his aid. The two proceeded to finish off the last Lutins without a great deal of difficulty. Nodding to each other, the two soldiers departed for new battles.

Drawing in some more manna, though not even close to what he would have liked, Rickkter cast off a half dozen fireballs. His reasons for using fire were twofold: first that burning soldiers created wonderful disorder amongst an attacking army, and second that he needed the light. What that light showed him was that his own forces were being totally and utterly overwhelmed. He saw a burly keeper drive his sword into the chest of some poor Lutin only to have a much larger Lutin come in and cut off his arm with a battle axe. Not more than ten feet away a stallion was dueling a human mercenary. The mercenary managed to work his sword above the stallion’s and drive it down through the horse’s muzzle. With a horrified scream, the keeper dropped his weapon and sank to his knees, his hoof-like hands reaching for his shattered face and past the crimson waterfall that had sprung from it. The stallion’s screams were quickly silenced as the merc’s sword plunged into his chest. Turning his head to the other direction, Rick saw a mink dueling a Lutin with a pair of swords. Aiming high with one sword, the Lutin forced the mink to block and one, allowing him to stab into the keeper’s side, between the plates of her amour. She feel to one knees with a shriek that was cut short when the Lutin yanked free that sword and used both to cleave her head from her body. The head had not even bounced twice before he was dropped as well by a bolt of pyrokenetic magic launched from Rickkter’s fingertips.

The raccoon shook his head at the scene, his feet taking his backwards over the crimsoned snow. No, no, this was all turning into one monumental foul-up. Damn near tripping on a body, Rickkter looked down to see the face of captain Marcusson. Her breastplate had an ugly gaping wound made by a battleaxe. A curse wuffed past his lips before a Lutin battle cry snapped his head up. Bracing his katana horizontally with both paws, Rickkter blocked the blow, then dropped his right arm and swung the blade around, angling right between the lose plates of his attacker’s hardened leather armor. That was it, no more.

Turning, Rick grabbed a woman by the sleeve as she ran by him. He made out her rank, two arrows, one facing up the other down. “Corporal, were you are you going in such a hurry?”

“To the east front,” she replied. “My lieutenant ordered it.”

Rickkter shook his head. “No, negative. Your orders are now changed. Continue on, but pass on word of a retreat to all those you see. Fall back to the keep as fast as they can. Most of the command has been killed and the rest of us are about to follow suit, do you understand?”

Her eyes were huge as she nodded her head.

“Good, now go!” Rickkter waved out his arm, a monstrous tongue of flame leaping from it to engulf a good fifty feet of the enemy army and leave the ground flaming in its wake. Taking the cover for what it was, the corporal ran off, shouting her new orders to any she encountered.

Snarling, Rickkter did something he had done often enough in his life: he turned tail and ran, vanishing into the darkness.

---

There's certainly more than a few Lutins around the Inner Gate when they get near.

"Not far now!" Jono cries to the children, some of whom are stumbling occasionally but always helped up by his or her fellows. "The bad guys are over there, but we're almost at the end!"

The kids keep running, many of them very frightened now. This must have been what Derek felt like, many of them think, when he was getting away from the bad guys with Jono. Running as fast as he could to get to safety. Nobody is questioning the King of the Snowfields' courage now.

Derek, for his part, is keeping up admirably. This is now practically old hat; he's been here before. He knows that none of the grownups are going to leave him behind. Inexplicably, though, he's still frightened, and he wonders about that. Aren't the grownups going to keep them safe?

Then he realizes just how hard that would be for them when he sees the platoon from before. Coming RIGHT BACK AT THEM.

He turns to Uncle Jono, to warn him, but Jono's already seen them and is shouting to someone. "Perry! Jo! The platoon over there... need them dealt with!"

Jo and Jono have prepared for this, of course. She's already reaching for one of the vials.

Joanne is, of course, ultimately a kind of alchemist. Not a true mystical alchemist like Pascal, but she can do similar effects with various combinations of natural ingredients. One of the most potent she's ever discovered involves something that she found quite by accident when researching into something that would be much more effective at creating a smokescreen— smokescreens are useful tools to a showman like Jono. The end result did produce smoke, ultimately, but only after a spectacular show

Take a bit of Daemon's Ash and add a tiny amount of powdered Northern Fireleaf. Add a small amount of liquid as a mixing base, close up so no more air gets in, shake up to mix, and then get it as far away from you as you can, unless you want to be singed by the result.

Said result is a wildly colorful display of lights and flashes that can very easily temporarily blind at least anyone looking directly at it. It won't really injure anyone unless you're touching it as it goes off (in which case you might get mildly singed), and in this case there's the additional danger of getting cut by shards of flying glass as the vial explodes, but beyond that it's a psychological weapon, meant to make the enemy think that they're just about to die spectacularly.

It is one of these that Joanne tosses at the approaching platoon when they get within ten yards, causing the Lutins to temporarily vanish under a maelstrom of loud crackles and bangs and flashing lights.

...But these Lutins have already faced down Kirk, and are no longer that easily intimidated. Or at least that's what has to be assumed when it's clear that they haven't stopped coming.

"PERRY!" Jo screams, stopping to pull both her daggers and let them fly, cutting down two of the approaching Lutins. The hedgehog is already going to work, though, barreling into them at high speed with a battle cry in his throat.

He leaps, starts to roll, and manages to get about ten or so feet before the snow stops him, right in the middle of the Lutin platoon, of whom about four start hacking away at the quills while he stays curled up, unable to uncurl without getting stabbed...

Joanne curses loudly, putting her dagger through one of the pairs approaching her. "Jono! Trouble!"

Jono turns, curses as well and starts running past the kids, yelling to them, "Keep going! Follow Kirk, he'll get you to safety!"

Jo manages to take down one of the four assaulting Perry with another toss before the Lutins close... five of them left for her. Her first move is to leap and somersault backwards, gaining a little more space to toss both her knives again, dropping two as the other three come on. She fakes to the left, then starts for the right and throws again, dropping another Lutin... and then the other two pounce.

Jono is too busy heading for Perry, whose spines still haven't taken much damage but who himself is beginning to look a little worn; the heating spell is getting taxed, and he can't keep warm if he's staying still. So Jono helps him out by pouncing on one of the Lutins, keeping it occupied, freeing Perry to make his move.

And quite the move it is - he uncurls just enough to get his feet on the ground, then somersaults backward, impaling the Lutin behind him on his spines and rolling back before the one in front can strike at his belly. By the time the front Lutin has caught up with Perry, he has his own sword out and is swinging. One blow, and the cheap metal of the Lutin's sword breaks. Perry's sword doesn't, even as it goes through the Lutin's windpipe.

Joanne during this time is dropping down and leaping forward, going between the two Lutins to try to neatly evade them. They're not That dumb, though - one of them catches her with a blow - but they're not swift enough to take full advantage, either - the blow is merely with a fist, not a sword. She goes down into the snow, but manages to right herself, flinging one of the daggers again as she turns and dropping another Lutin. One more left, stabbing down at her... she rolls to the side, quickly gets to her feet and somersaults forward to avoid another swing of the blade, which gives her just enough time to throw again - and the last Lutin goes down.

Total elapsed time of battle, about forty five seconds.

Kirk finally gets to the door, and tries to pull it open; unsurprisingly, it's locked. "This is Captain Kirkland Russell from the South Gate detachment!" he bellows in the most powerful voice he cam muster. "I command you in the name of Duke Thomas to open this door!"

The door opens. "Get in! Hurry!" yells one soldier; he looks something like a rat, but Kirk isn't taking the time to watch; he's directing the children into the tower. "Hurry up, c'mon! You've almost made it!"

And then one stray arrow from the battle off to their collective right flies and strikes Jeremy in the back before he can react. And he falls to the ground, too shocked to keep running.

"JEREMY!" Kevin screams! "Gods no... Jono! Get Jeremy!" He starts to summon up another fireball to fling at the Lutins... but... “It's not working? ...Oh, gods, the blizzard,”

"Get in! We have to get in now!" the mage then screams as Jono runs by Jeremy, scooping him up as he does so, Jo and Perry in last pursuit, the last few kids right in front of them. Two more arrows land among them... _no... the Lutins are Aiming for them..._

And then Josh and the last three make it in, then Jono and Jo and Perry, and Kevin can rush in while Kirk throws the door shut once more.

---

With the acolytes faithfully obeying Raven's instructions, it took slightly less than half an hour to move all of the townspeople to the first two levels of the Archives. Half an hour after that, the acolytes had taken stock of the supplies available to them and distributed blankets to those most in need of them. That task completed, Raven called Merai and the temple assistants together in the now-empty temple hall.

"The larders are nearly full and well-protected with preservative spells," Celine reported. "We can feed these people for as long as a week, if we ration it properly."

"The cisterns are all clean, as well," Merai added. "We have plenty of drinking water, if the Keep's plumbing should somehow fail."

“We have enough clothing and blankets to go around, perhaps twice over, so some can be used as bandages if we need them.” One of the other assistants offered, “We’ve also got a good stock of medicines and herbs collected this past fall, and soap. With snowmelt we should have enough water to actually bathe.” At the odd looks she received from some of the other assistants the young ocelot hunched her shoulders and frowned, “We are all going to need to bathe, or we’ll start getting sick.” She said quietly, defending her statements.

“She’s right.” Raven countered quietly as she placed her hands upon the altar. "Excellent," she continued with a small nod of satisfaction. "We are well-prepared, as I had hoped. You have done well, my friends, all of you."

"Mistress?" Jonathan Caroway raised his boyish hand, an uncertain expression on his face.

"Aye, Jon?"

"What shall we do if the battle lasts more than a week? Or if the rest of Metamor falls?"

Raven bit her lip in a solemn frown. "Metamor shall not fall," she said firmly. "Kyia will see to that. No army has ever occupied this castle uninvited for long. If the battle lasts for more than a week, we shall have to look for provisions elsewhere— but we'll cross that bridge if we come to it."

"Will we truly be safe here, Mistress?" an older-looking horse-woman asked. "You know what befell us the last time Nasoj attacked." Her expressive ears twitched, backing as she swished her ornately braided tail pointedly.

A sudden chill fell on the circle of Lightbringers. Most of them remembered all too well how the priests and acolytes left behind in the temple had been slaughtered while the survivors were out working as field clerics. No one was quite sure how it had happened, but it seemed likely that a wraith had somehow eluded Kyia's watchful gaze and snuck inside the temple chambers.

"We're safer than anywhere else we could be, Mabel," Raven said with a sigh. "Make no mistake, we will all be targets in this battle. The wards Kyia has placed around the temple this time are powerful, and should be enough to discourage any opportunistic wraiths or other fell creatures. Merai, you and I will place protective blessings on the acolytes as an added measure of protection."

"As you say, Sister Raven," Merai agreed, nodding. "Mayhap we should also place a watch on this level, since this is the only place that an enemy could enter. A wraith is easily dealt with if it is spotted in time."

"A good idea," the wolf-woman said. "Celine, appoint someone to draft a schedule of guard duty, and see what we have in the way of weapons. Schedule acolytes to serve meals to the congregation, as well."

"Aye, Mistress. I'll have a schedule for you before dawn."

"Thank you. After Merai and I have finished the blessings, I'll be giving her charge of the temple for the time being."

"Where will you be?" the younger priestess asked, frowning.

"In my chambers. I shall consult with my sources and do my best to gain a clear picture of what is happening. If possible, and the gods willing, I shall summon aid for Metamor, as well."

Merai nodded, clearly not quite understanding the specifics of what Raven had in mind but not wishing to debate the matter further in front of the acolytes. Of course, Raven had not yet told her of the secret lines of communication used by the Lightbringer High Priests, so she did not expect the young cat-woman to grasp all of it.

"Are there any other questions?" Raven asked, looking around the group.

Some of the acolytes exchanged glances. "What should we do when we are off-duty?" someone asked.

"Pray," the high priestess said firmly. "Spend time with your families, if they are here. Comfort and console those who need it. See if there are any storytellers or other entertainers among the congregation that can keep the people distracted to some degree. There’s more than enough reading material in the archives to go around. Most of all, keep an air of optimism about you— those people down there need to see your strength, not your fear. Anyone else?"

There was a moment's silence. "Very well, then— everyone line up. Merai, let us see how quickly we can do this."

---