The Lutin Chronicles
Vengance and Release

Toothgrind didn't like to be out this way.  The dark forest was dangerous at the best of times, but this particular part was especially scary.  There had been reports of monster attacks in the very area where he was going.  Two dwarven slaves had been eaten so far and their cargoes of iron and other metals never delivered to the forges in the west.  But then, dwarves were not lutins.  Toothgrind reminded himself that he was in fact a lutin, and though he may be small, he was among a strong and robust breed of goblin.  There was no need to fear monsters.  HE was the monster here.
A howl in the distance made Toothgrind cringe.  He snapped the reigns and bid his horse go faster.

Suddenly, a tentacle shot out from among the trees.  It fastened itself around his horse's throat.  Toothgrind fumbled for his sword.  In a moment, he was on the far side of the cart, using it as a shield while he valliantly challenged the creature with a million eyes peering at him from the forest.

"Hold!" said a lutin voice.  "This one's attached to a cart!"  Toothgrind relaxed visibly as the million eyes turned into a company of lutins.  The very group he'd been sent to.  What he thought was a tentacle was merely a lasso.  "Sorry about that, mate." said the one with a lasso.  "We're trying to catch us some wild ponies.  I guess i got a little excited."

Did this man just apologize?  Lutins don't apologize!  They pass the blame.  Surely, what Toothgrind had heard about this company was true.  They were a company of weirdos.  Eggheads.  Freaks.  Pacifists.  Artisans.  All the rejects from the lutin army, and here they were.  "Supplies from headquarters." said the driver with disdain.  "You Kayrok's bunch?  You must be, as clean as you are."

"Cleanliness is next to Stormhaven, and the key to proper health.  I'm Mipo, officer in charge of water and sanitation for Mountainshade and Camp Dimtorch."

"I don't care if you're Duke Hassan.  Just tell me where to take these supplies."

"There's a road about thirty yards ahead.  Take a right and just go straight for twenty miles.  When you can't go any further, you're in the right place."

* * *

"The problem isn't finding clay." said Brul.  "We've got tons of clay.  Literally tons.  The problem is how to keep it from turning into slip and just washing out.  Now if we were back home, I'd mix in some gypsum.  Where are we going to find Gypsum out here?"

"I concur, Sir." said Smallbeard, the dwarf.  "Give me some selenite, some satin spar, some desert rose, I can make you up a fine batch of plaster.  Right now, the best thing we've got is limestone.  Limestone, at least the kind we have here, dissolves in water.  Fine for houses, not for waterproofing an aqueduct."

Kayrok scratched his chin thoughtfully with one hand while the other hand stroked the mane of the lion sitting next to him.  That lion was, of course, Urik, the shape-changer who became random animals at night.  Tonight saw the soldier in a dignified form, but as always, removed any intellectual contribution he might have made.

"Hey, Onju!" called Mumbor.  "Why don't you pray to your god for some gypsum!"

Onju cast his eyes downward.  He'd always been taunted like this, and should have been used to it, he thought.  But it always stung as if it were the very first time.  Onju had dedicated his life to following the one whom the lutins called 'Vernarbta', the scarred one.  He'd seen the power Vernarbta had to transform the lives of his followers.  He had seen it in Ushka the healer, and in Ushka's wife, Vitra.  Those two were so different from any other lutin he'd ever known.  Only Captain Kayrok had ever shown a spark of anything like what Ushka had.

"Leave Onju alone." Kayrok scolded Mumbor.  "If there is room in the heavens for the thousand deities that our people may choose to serve, then surely there is room for his."

Mumbor lowered his head and went his way with a sneeze.

Kayrok turned to Onju.  "Actually, that's not a bad idea." he said quietly.  "I'm not a very religious lutin.  But out of all the gods I've ever heard of, I like yours the best.  He's the only one I know of who'd do someone a favor out of the goodness of his heart."

"Something in short supply among lutins." said Onju.

"Don't let it get you down." Kayrok told him.  "There's no short supply of noble hearts among lutins.  There is only a shortage of those willing to nurture them."

"Wagon approaching." announced Tiro, walking into the camp.

"Supplies!" squealed Angu, running up to the wagon.

"Here, shove off, ya fruit!" groused Toothgrind.

"I am not a fruit!" said Angu indignantly.  "I simply want to be a woman.  Is that a crime?"

"Why in Stormhaven's name would a man want to be a simpering, sniveling woman?"

There was a flash of light in Toothgrind's brain as something hit his head and knocked him to the ground.  The next thing he saw was the end of a quarter staff as he looked up into the angry face of Barga, the she-warrior.  "I wonder." she said.  "Would you call that simpering, or sniveling?"

"Let him up, Barga." ordered Kayrok.  "This man comes bearing gifts, after all."

"What the Everdark is her problem?" asked Toothgrind as Kayrok helped him to his feet.

"Besides you insulting her and her comrade, casting dishonor upon her entire gender and generally being a donkey's rear?  I haven't a clue, my friend."

Toothgrind pulled back the cover concealing the goods within his wagon.  "There it is." he announced.  "Wages are in the green sack here.  Food's in the crate.  You got your weapons, blankets, tools, tents, clothes and..." with a look of disgust, he added "cookware".

Kayrok smiled and said "Where is the rest of it?"

"That's it." said Toothgrind, not smiling at all.

"That's it?  This is about half of what I ordered.  I asked for forty blankets.  There's ten!  I need sixteen picks.  I see nine.  This sack doesn't have enough to pay half of my men!  And what is this thing?"  He poked an oddly shaped mass that wiggled in response.

"That'd be Thnad.  Another crazy for you.  The guy wants to be an animal.  He shot himself full of human blood and hid by the keep hoping the curse would get him.  The fool just about died from it."

Kayrok pulled back a blanket to see a face that was an unhealthy shade of pink.  "Gitch!  Hornbeam!  This man needs help!"

"You wanna get your men unloading this stuff, Sir?  I'd like to be getting home."

Kayrok's normally verdant complexion was well on its way to red.  "I was counting on a full count of supplies to get us through the winter.  This is not acceptable.  I want the rest of my supplies."

"I'm only the delivery guy." said Toothgrind.  "If you've got a complaint, write a letter to the general.  I'm sure he'll be able to find someone that can read."

* * *

"Here's the lavender you asked for." said Udge as he approached Gitch and Hornbeam and their patient.

"Good.  Be a good fellow and grind it up, along with the echinacea." said Gitch.

"Hey, I know this man." said Udge as he started to grind.  "That's Thnad.  He's from my hometown!  Thnad, what are you doing here?"

"He can't hear you." said Hornbeam.  "He's lost in a fever dream.  He's filled his veins with foreign blood.  He's lucky he didn't die."

"Thnad?  No!  He's a strange one, but he'd never do anything so insane.  And where's his tail?"

"Tail?" asked Hornbeam.

"He never goes anywhere without his tail.  He took it from a dire fox.  Wears it like it's his own.  He even sleeps with it.  He wouldn't be caught dead without it.  And I mean that literally.  Something isn't right here." 

"On that we agree.  That's enough grinding.  Go see if you can find us some Aumathelas leaves."

* * *

"Fifteen chickens!" exclaimed Zin.  "Thirteen hens and two roosters.  It's amazing!"

"Technically, they're jungle fowl." said his alter-ego, Zan.  "They're not chickens until they're domesticated."

"But that's exactly what we're doing." said Zin.  "The moment we brought them back to the village, they became chickens."

"No, domestication doesn't work that way!" Zan insisted.

Next to Zin and Zan stood a aqua-skinned woman.  Her name was Fircone, and she had been immensely useful in last night's hunt.  She had been a trapper in her youth, and enjoyed it a great deal.  To her, joining Pythonus' harem had been a prison sentence.  Now that she was back in the forest, she felt alive again.  Zin, however, had been an able but most confusing partner.  "Do you always argue with yourself?" she asked.

"I'm not arguing with myself." said Zin.  "I'm arguing with each other."

"We have six cows." chimed Jora.  "Four female and two male."

"There's no such thing as a male cow." Zan said.  "The word is 'bull'."

"That's the truth." said Qlin, who, when no one laughed, was forced to launch into a lecture on human idioms.

"How many ponies do we have?" asked Ruku.

"We have seven." Zin reported.  "Most of which were caught by Fircone, here."

"Excellent work." said Ruku.  He was starting to learn Kayrok's style of command, and finding that a word of praise here and there could work wonders.  "How many males and females?"

"Only one male." Fircone reported.  "But he's taken to his role enthusiastically."

"What do you mean?"

Fircone pointed to the newly constructed pony pen, where the chestnut male was quite busy summoning the stork with a pretty white filly.  "He's bred every single one of the females.  I think we can expect a large number of colts."

Booli burst from the trees into the village.  "Has anyone seen Urik?" he asked.  "We lost him during the hunt!"

"Is he the guy with the short nose?  Bit of a beard on him?" asked Fircone.

"Yeah, that's him.  Only it's night time, so he'll have transformed."

"Transformed?"

"He's under a curse.  He turns into random animals at night."

"What is he tonight?" asked Ruku.

"A pony.  Chestnut hair, kind of... stocky..." Booli followed everyone's gaze to the pony pen.  "Urik!  What are you doing?"

But Urik, who had the mind of a pony, only nickered softly in response and nodded.

Next into the clearing was one of the locals, a tracker by the name of Owlscreech.  "Master Ruku, I must speak with you."

"What is it?" asked the general.

"You remember Pythonus?"  Ruku did, of course.  The ousted dictator of Mountainshade used to rule through terror, having made the whole village believe that he possessed a magic sword which could destroy the soul.  "I've seen him during our hunt.  I have reason to believe that he plans to kill you, and soon."

"Thank you, Owlscreech." said Ruku, careful to show his gratitude.  "I have been expecting this.  Zin, Place Brang on guard duty tonight."

"Brang, Sir?" asked Zin, careful to be respectful.  "But general, Brang WILL fall asleep."

"I am aware of that.  I need Brang on guard duty."

Zin only nodded in response.  Ruku was as crazy as Kayrok.  But if that were true, then Ruku had a plan.

* * *

Pythonus was getting closer.  Brang could smell him.  He was starting to become grateful for the new cleanliness regulations.  At first, it had been only to keep the cleanliness-obsessed Mipo from having conniptions, but besides improved health and comfort, Brang was discovering that he could now smell other lutins from far away, while they couldn't smell him and his comrades at all.  He peered into the darkness where three lutins were poorly hidden.  One, he recognized as Pythonus.  The others, he could tell by their elaborate leather clothing, were from the village of Spiritfell.  Both of the Spiritfellers carried bows.  Brang pretended not to see them.  He rested against the side of one of the newly built houses.  Moments later, he was sound asleep where he stood.  Brang was awoken by the sound of an arrow which had just passed through his heart and lodged in the wall of the house.  Blood gushed from his chest.  He peered at himself in horror, then hung limply.

Pythonus and his cohorts sped quietly into the village.  They stole into the longhouse where Ruku slept.  The general was sound asleep.  On the wall next to the entrace was his sword, the Soulrender, displayed like a trophy.  Pythonus took it from its place and raised it.  It felt light.  But of course it would.  Pythonus had grown stronger since his exile, living alone in the woods.  He had become an impressive specimin of a lutin in his own mind.  Why else would these two from Spiritfell help him regain his position?  Of course, the promise of many wives didn't hurt either.  Ruku lay snuggled in his blankets, blissfully unaward of his impending doom.  Pythonus brought the point of the sword down and thrust it into Ruku's chest.  The sword crumbled.  As Pythonus stood there, staring at what was left of the Soulrender, he felt the point of a javelin in his back.

"All of you, drop your weapons." said the voice of Sujan.

The Spiritfell bowmen dropped their bows and put their hands in the air.  Pythonus just stood there, dumbfounded.  "How?" was all he could say.

Ruku cast his blanket off and stood, revealing a hard leather chestplate.  "Do you think I would be dumb enough to leave the real soulrender out in the open while I slept?" he said chidingly.  "The real sword is safe at Camp Dimtorch in the care of Kayrok.  That one was made out of talc and covered with silver paint."

Pythonus dropped the remains of the talc sword and cursed himself for a fool.

As the captured lutins were marched out of the village with their hands bound behind them, Pythonus looked to see Brang snoring peacefully, the arrow lodged in the wall and his chest completely unharmed.  "How is it the guard is still alive?" he demanded.

"My doing." said Jun.  "I put an innocence charm on Brang.  As long as his mind is clear of evil thoughts, he can't be harmed by weapons.  How can he think evil thoughts when he's sound asleep?  The arrow phased right through him as though he were a ghost."

"But I saw him bleed!"

"That's Rugi's doing.  He charmed Brang's shirt so that it would bleed illusory blood when struck."

"You are all liars and cheats!" Pythonus spat.

Ruku stepped up to Pythonus.  "I knew that you would not make your move until you'd taken out at least one guard.  You're stupid, Pythonus, but not that stupid.  As for being a cheat, this is not a game.  These men are not a bunch of pieces in a game of jackals and hounds.  They are living people.  They are MY people, and I will protect their lives, no matter what it takes."  Even as he said this, it was a revelation to Ruku.  He was finally begining to understand the way his commander thought, because he was thinking the same way.

"What will you do to me?" asked the deposed despot.

"You and your henchmen will be taken to Camp Dimtorch to work in the mines.  That is, unless Kayrok has some better idea of how to punish you.  You'll be taken there by Splin and Qlin.  I suggest you give him no trouble.  Splin talks to plants, and would have no problems having an oak or elm flatten you."  Splin smiled.  His power didn't work that way, but these three didn't need to know that.

* * *

Thnad awoke with a cough, his entire body sore.  "Where am I?" he croaked.

"Among friends." said Hornbeam.  "Don't try to get up.  You're very weak.  You need to rest."

There was no way another lutin could be telling him to rest.  They would be telling him to get up and walk it off.  Thnad could only reach one conclusion.  "Are you a keeper?" he asked.

"No, no." replied Hornbeam.  "Just a healer who knows what's good for the patient.  You're in Camp Dimtorch, home of Kayrok and his omega company."

"I'm going to die." said Thnad.

"You're not going to die.  Have a little faith."

Thnad propped himself onto his elbows, then promptly got dizzy and laid back down.  But wait... was that Udge he just saw?

"Thnad?" said Udge, stepping up to where Thnad could see him.  "What happened to you?"

"What happened?  Budlo and Kirp happened."

"What do you mean?"

"They got the entire company to turn against me.  They said my tail was a disgrace.  They beat me, shot me full of human blood and dumped me in the valley."

"So you didn't inject yourself?"

"Now where would I get a syringe?" asked Thnad.  "They stole it off of a Hipocci medic who had wandered too far to the north.  It was his blood they put in me.  Budlo bragged about how he was going to tell the commanders I'd snapped and done it myself so that I could become an animal."

"So how did you end up here?"

"I don't know." Thnad answered.  "Someone must have rescued me.  The last thing I remember is blacking out on the way to the valley.  Then the next thing I know, I wake up here."

Udge scowled.  His own people were a vicious, hateful lot, but this was beneath even them.

* * *

If you want mining done, employ a dwarf.  Smallbeard was proving that saying to be true.  Since his liberation from slavery and subsequent employment, both by the valiant Kayrok, he had hollowed himself a nice little home in the cliffs of the Barrier Mountains.  It wasn't exactly what lutins would call comfortable, but to a cave dwarf, it was perfect.  Shortly thereafter, Kayrok's company had comandeered three more shipments of metal bound for the citadel in the west.  All three dwarven drivers had been set free from their enslavement and hired by Kayrok to work in his mines as free men.  Smallbeard had opened his home to them until they could dig out homes of their own.  Now Cranky, who was anything but; Ravenpelt the hairy and Snarls the carver had become his best friends.  They had jokingly talked about starting their own little town right here in the caves and calling it Cephas, meaning "rock".