The Lutin Chronicles Chapter 10 Unseen Power By Oren Otter Being able to transform stone into hunks of meat had been extremely helpful in making progress on the pass. Now the solid rock had given way to heavy loam. Under normal circumstances, this would have been fantastic, but it now meant that the stone to flesh spell would be to no avail. Digging would have to go back to conventional means. Or would it? Fugu chuckled to himself in an almost maniacal way as he hooked the hose of his drilling machine up to the steam pipeline running the length of the tunnel. There had been two major realizations made this past year. One was that steam equaled power. With the right gears, belts and axles, it could be turned into any kind of motion. The other was that steam was fluid and could therefore be channeled anywhere. The same fires which were powering the foundries in Cephas were powering equipment down beyond Refuge, from groundbreakers to shovels to lifters and payloaders. Digging was going at a breakneck pace. Meanwhile, to the north, a new town was being settled. In addition to Steadfast, which had already attracted some of the most security-minded folks due to the relative safety of its thick stone walls, there was now a settlement about ten miles north of Steadfast and ten miles west of Spiritfell. An elf embassy had been established there as part of the terms of peace following the defeat of the wood elves. The idea was for elves and goblins to live as neighbors and eventually learn to love one another. Agarwean insisted it was so that he could keep an eye on his hated enemies in case they should ever get out of line. Kayrok smiled inwardly, but let him go ahead and think this. It was also the home of an entire tribe of Bhuka, goblins from the desert who were friendly with and generally liked by elves, humans, dwarves and gnomes. A gnomish couple had moved in there. At least they claimed to be gnomish, though a series of unexplainable events including the spontaneous appearance of rainbows on completely dry days led to rumors that they might be leprechauns. Then there was old man Jorgenson. Jorgenson was a human who had spent twenty years as a slave to a welthy but abusive master in the Lom Shi'Un dynasty, but had escaped into the wilderness. When he heard about this strange place where goblins were gentlemen and decidedly anti-slavery, he thought it the perfect place to hide. Jorgenson was a skilled forager due to his time spent in the wild, and always had something to sell at the trading post, but otherwise kept to himself. The sole exception to his hermitude was regular visits from Qlin, who simply could not get enough of the human, and would help with chores in exchange for stories. It was a motley town, and right in the middle was the hothouse, an enormous glass dome which housed tropical plants grown from seeds kept by the tragso. A pond in the middle of the dome kept everything well watered, and served as a refreshing place to swim, even in the dead of winter. There was even a hot shower, all of which was made possible by the steam pipes run all the way from Cephas, courtesy of Fugu. Thus, the hamlet had been given the name Steamville, and Fugu was its mayor. Barga had been placed in charge of Steadfast. Her warrior ways were the perfect compliment to the fortress town. Spiritfell also had a new mayor. With the death of Onju, Kayrok had a difficult time selecting a new leader for the town. While he didn't directly tell the other lutins, he wanted a follower of Vertarbna in charge, someone who might eventually be able to take Onju's place as his spiritual advisor. The best choice seemed to be Udge. Kayrok had no cause to regret the decision, as immediately used the position to push his adult education agenda, which resulted in a very different federation. In only a few months, people were not only demonstrating widened skillsets which helped them to advance in their jobs, but it had also created a boom in the arts. Udge's adult students were teaching others what they had learned. A college had opened in Solace. Someone had gotten the idea to teach the Solace gnomes how to play swackball. Consequently, the two schools formed swackball teams. This immediately resulted in every other town wanting their own team. Seeing an opportunity, Kayrok convinced the council to build a swackball feild at Mountainshade which would be for the free use of every team connected with a functional educational facility. Within days, every town had somebody teaching something, whether it was how to train your dog, how to prepare squirrel, or how to knit an afghan. Thus far, Anhunger was undefeated. Several teams complained that the tragso's tails gave them an unfair advantage. The swackball league had done wonders for morale, as well as setting up an air of friendly competition. When someone from Punishment struck Opals, it was counted as a victory for the Punishers. When someone from Rider invented a new mining tool, it was counted as a victory for the Manticores. And while the Dimtorch Bears hadn't won a single game, their advancement of the wated distribution system had made up for the shortfall of glory. Kayrok had been trying to recruit Sytet to the league for some time. With his ability to transform into a lutin-sized bat, he would have been a natural as a goalie. But it was more than that. Ever since Sytet's arm-slash-wing had been burned, flying had been difficult, and since his werebat powers had once been his greatest contribution to the troop, Sytet had sunken into a permanent depression. Kayrok hoped that a little physical play might boost his spirits, but the werebat would always politely decline. When he was not working, Sytet often spent his days hanging from a tree branch, just watching the world go by. On this particular day, he hung beside the road near North Hunger where he watched the trains pass by every few minutes, hauling workers, supplies and building materials to and fro. One of the trains brought Cranky, the dwarf who managed the prisoners in the mines. "Rotweed... rotweed... mumbled the dwarf to himself as he rifled through the foliage. Sytet watched Cranky's efforts with mild interest until the dwarf turned and Sytet got a good look at his face. The dwarf was a gorgeous shade of sky blue. Sytet flew a short distance away to transform, so as not to startle Cranky. Approaching him casually, he extended a hand in greeting and said "Good morning, friend dwarf." Cranky almost took the hand, then withdrew. "Don't touch me!" he blurted. "I beg your pardon. Have I done something to give offense?" "What? Oh, not at all! But trust me, you do not want to shake my hand, Mister werebat." "Why? Has some disease overtaken your skin?" "Yes and no. I got a skin disease when I was working the mines. When I came here, Gitch prescribed a little silver dissolved in water once a day. It cleared up my disease, but... well, you can see the side effect. My skin's full of silver, you see." "Thank you for warning me." said Sytet, stepping back a couple of paces. "That's why I'm out here. Gitch thinks he can take the silver out using an extract of rotweed." "Not orally, I hope." "Topically, though it's just as bad. I'm kind of hoping I don't find any. It might not be so bad to be blue among people who are green. Better than having rotweed juice scrubbed into your face." * * * Kayrok was not a worrisome man. The thought of facing a thousand keepers in battle didn't phase him. He was not worried about the small, orange blisters which had appeared on his skin. What worried him was just what the cure might involve. In his time commanding the Omega company, he had seen Gitch come up with some fairly gross concoctions which might make an ogre puke. "Mine pox." said Gitch. "It's actually a kind of fungus. It thrives in hot, damp, dark conditions. Quite a few of the men have already gotten it. The cure is simple. Just a little silver dissolved in some water. You'll see your skin clear up in about a month. I usually recommend continuing the treatment for about a year to prevent a resurgance." "You're telling me I have to drink silver?" said Kayrok. "You don't have to. There are alternative treatments. One involves capsicum oil. The second is three days packed in snow. The third... you don't even want to know about the third." With a sigh, Kayrok went home to prepare some silver water. * * * Urik watched the sun go down beyond the trees and mountains to the west. As he did every night, Urik transformed as the last rays of sunlight vanished. He shrank. Fur crept across his body. A large, bushy, ringed tail formed behind him. Urik became a red panda. He went to his bed to settle down for the night, only to discover that he'd accidentally left his clothing on top of the bed, including the necklace which allowed him to assume the shape of a unicorn. The necklace was harmless during the day, but at night, he was now technically a werebeast. As the necklace was made of silver, touching it for even a short time meant burning pain. Urik crouched and growled at the charm. Mara, seeing the problem, pushed the clothing and the necklace onto the floor. A grateful Urik licked her nose, and the two settled down to sleep. * * * Point the cyclops was also grateful to Mara. Her age charm had caused his orchards to produce a new crop of fruit for the third time this month. The strawcherries were looking especially lucious. More than that, they were selling very well. Word had gotten out about the Singing Pony trading post, and many of the forest's denizens had started traveling the southern highway just to visit it. Point Grove was doing very prosperously, and was growing as a city. A pair of Kol'ksu moved into the nearby river to work as fishers, though they flatly denied working for anyone, always insisting that they were independent contractors. Contractors who just happened to sell exclusively to Point. A family of knockers were working as a construction crew, building houses for others, as well as a dairy barn for a gregarious hogboon who was now producing the finest milk in the entire Federation. And while nobody could prove it, rumor was that the dairy was staffed by domovoi, benificent house fairies who took a strange delight in doing chores. Surveying his property, Point concluded that all was well and turned to head home for the night. When he got to his cave, someone was waiting for him. It was another cyclops. The man was stately, wearing a long, tan tunic. Though balding, he had a well-groomed brown beard with no moustache. Like most cyclopses, he was well-mustled and very tall. "Greetings." said Point, extending a hand. "I'm Lord Point Gravelsong." "It is an honor." said the visitor. "I am Jorge Crabapple, and I will die tonight, saving your life." "I see." said point, without emotion. "Won't you come in and join me for tea?" * * * Jora plopped down at the bar with a heavy sigh. "Problems?" asked Grint, the barkeeper. "Can't sleep." said the bard. "There's a cricket in my room." "I thought you liked music." noted Grint, wiping down the counter. "This is not music. This is torture." Riska the norker stepped into the tavern at that point. She was wiping grime off of her hands from some recent maintainance task. "Somebody talking about torture?" she inquired. "Boss has got a cricket." said Grint. "I love crickets." said Riska. "Especially on toast." "You can have it." said Jora. "It's driving me crazy." "Tell you what, boss. You take my room for tonight. I'll hunt down your cricket and we'll trade back in the morning." Jora was pleased. "I could kiss you, Riska." he said. "You might want to give me a rain check." said the engineer. "I just had to blow out one of the pool heater lines." * * * Kayrok placed the glass of silver water on his nightstand. After shucking off his garments, he climbed into bed. As soon as he hit the pillow, he was unconscious, his medicine still on the nightstand. As he slept, the commander dreamed. In his dream, he stood on the clifftops overlooking a vast array of cities below, each one unique. There was a city of stone, a city in the trees, a city of burrows, a city of steel, and the people going back and forth were of all types. There were goblins, gnomes, elves, humans, monsters, even dragons. "Beautiful, isn't it?" someone asked. Kayrok turned around to see his dear friend Onju. Overcome with joy, he ran and embraced him. "Onju! Is it really you?" "If it isn't, some stranger is going to wonder why you're hugging him." "I've missed you so much!" "I've missed you too, Sir. Fortunately, I've had plenty to keep me occupied." "Really? What does one do in Stormhaven?" "Oh, where do I even begin?" Onju began walking, Kayrok staying by his side. "Your world, the world of the living, is embroiled in a great war. Greater than the war between Nasoj and the Keepers. Greater than fight against the Qor horde. Greater even than the war that is coming. All are part of a greater war between light and darkness." "A daunting thought." said Kayrok. "Why do you say that?" asked Onju. "The forces of darkness are so vast. What can we do to stand against them?" Onju placed his hands on Kayrok's shoulders. "Much! You have no idea how much you have already done. You are literally changing the world, my friend, and you will do much more. It will seem overwhelming at times, but do not despair, because the armies of Stormhaven are on your side." "You have told me that the future will bring calamity." said Kayrok. "Can you tell me anything more?" "I can." Onju produced a map. Following the manner of dreams, it came from nowhere, but simply was. "There are seven cities of light in the world. Each one represents a different aspect of goodness, and is meant to save the world from a specific evil. One is in Fan Shoar, one in Irombi, one in Sonngefilde and one in Kitchlande. But the three you must be concerned with are spread across Galendor. The city of faith is on the island of Khumar. The city of hope is near the sea of stars. But the most important is the city of love. Your city, Kayrok." "My city?" "You will play a key part in its creation, just as you are doing now. But Captain, you must understand that love means sacrifice." "What sacrifice?" "Everything." "I don't understand. Please explain it to me." "I cannot explain further. I can only tell you that you must be strong and never give up." Onju began to weep as he spoke. "The dark one once thought he had you. Now that he knows where your loyalties lie, he will try to crush you under his heel. He will unleash everything he has upon you. You must never give in. And though you will lose much, you will also restore much. I have prepared something for you." "Oh?" "A seed. When the darkness is past, plant the seed." "What seed?" "You'll know it when you find it. And now our parting is at hand. So I leave you with this urgent message. Grab your cup." "Grab my cup?" Kayrok echoed. "But Onju, what do you mean...?" But the dream was already fading. * * * Pentagruel was very pleased with the changes he was seeing in Rider. With the sanitary facilities introduced by Mipo, the streets no longer stank. One could step out into the city streets, take a breath of fresh air and actually enjoy it! A small battery of windmills on the south side of town pumped water from the wells to a water tower from which water could be drawn with merely the turn of a valve. But more than that, Kayrok's way of life had infiltrated Rider. Crime was way down. People smiled at one another. And though there was still a fair amount of anti-gnome sentiment around, the state of real peace with Solace had created a sort of rennaisance. Goblins were learning how to do things the gnomish way, even if for no other reason than to prove thmselves superior at it just for spite. The half-orge king of Rider went to bed feeling happy for his people, and proud of himself for making the right decision and embracing Kayrok's leadership instead of slaughtering the Omega company as he'd originally intended. As Pentagruel slept, a shadow crept across the floor of his bedchambers. That shadow rose up into the horrific figure of a goblinoid bat. A mist fell over Pentagruel, making his eyes heavy. Leaping up in a swift, deft motion, Pentagruel grabbed a nearby dagger at thrust it through the bat's gut. The creature's eyes went wide and it fell to the floor, stunned. The half-ogre wasted no time, but ran to a cabinet from whence he withdrew a silver blade. With terrifying force, he thrust it through the bat's head, killing it instantly. "Guards!" called the king. "Yes, your majesty?" "Get a cleanup crew in here. There's been a monster attack." "Yes, Sir. Would you like its head mounted?" Pentagruel looked at his wall, where a variety of horrific visages gazed blankly back. "I don't think so." he replied. "After you kill your fifth monster under the bed, mounting heads is just showing off." * * * A shadowy form moved across the ceiling of Takka's hut. It climbed down the wall toward the bed. Approaching the blanketed form, it sprayed the mist of sleep from its mouth, then pulling back the covers, it revealed... laundry. Momentarily bewildered , it tore through the towels and blankets. It didn't even see the trag until an arrow found its way into its gut. Aghast, the werebat looked up to see Taka with a longbow, already loading a second arrow. "Hey, stupid." she said. "Didn't anyone ever tell you tragso are nocturnal?" The second arrow was the last thing the creature ever saw. * * * The werebat who invaded Mikel Greenstar's bedroom wasn't happy. The room was so small that he had no choice but to assume the form of a regular-sized bat if he were to do any damage at all. Still, this would be enough to get the job done. He sprayed his sleeping mist. Greenstar woke with a start. The mist was not at full potency due to the bat being in his smallest form. The mayor of the gnomes shouted in alarm. Four armed guards burst into the room. A fifth blocked the only window. The bat screeched and swung wildly with its wings, but the guards took it out in only a few minutes. * * * Having enjoyed a tasty cricket and made Jora's room silent and peaceful once again, Riska blew out the lights and lay down on her boss' bed. When the werebat appeared, it sprayed the sleeping mist most effectively. The monster bared its fangs and clamped down on her neck. It then whimpered as it drew back, both fangs broken on the norker's tough hide. It flew away yelping ultrasonic cries of pain. Riska never knew anything happened, but snored on without a care. * * * Jorge lay very still upon Point's bed. Like all cyclopses, he had forseen his death and made peace with it. He would die tonight, but it would be for a very good cause. When the werebat came, he let it take him. He did not breathe when the mist fell upon him, wanting to meet death with his eyes open. The bat plunged its fanges into his neck. Jorge felt no pain. He let the bat drink deeply. When the creature withdrew, it staggered, its head swimming. "What... what trickery is this?" it demanded. "No trickery." said Jorge, not moving. "I knew you would kill me tonight, so I poisoned myself with curare. I'll die from blood loss before the poison kills me, but you will be unable to fly back to your nest, and soon, you will suffocate as you become unable to breathe." "Curse you!" hissed the bat. "Curse you, Disappointment Gravelsong!" "Who said I was Gravelsong?" The bat stiffened and lay on the floor, cursing until its mouth no longer worked, then slowly asphyxiated, while Jorge, at peace with his fate, happily commended his soul to the scarred god. * * * Urik smelled the bat before he saw anything. His panda senses made him alert to danger, causing him to get to all fours and growl menacingly. The monster was quick to spray its sleeping mist, but Urik was faster. Grabbing his necklace from the floor with both hands, he wrapped it around the werebat's neck. The red panda's hangs burned in agony, but not as much as the bat's throat, into which the silver chain was burning deeply. The bat began to change into a unicorn, which only made the chain bite deeper into his flesh. Just when Urik thought he could no longer take the pain, Mara stomped on the creature, killing it. Touching her horn to Urik's hands, she healed them as best she could, then she called her son Benji in to help her clean up the mess and get rid of the body. * * * Kayrok woke from his dream to see the face of the werebat hovering over him. Reacting instantly, he grabbed his cup and threw the contents onto his attacker's face. The bat screamed as the silver burned him like acid, leaving him blind. * * * It had been a long, long time since Lo-Mahle had suffered from the all-consuming hunger which had befalled the tragso. He didn't want to remember what it was like, but when he saw his attacker's face, he knew what was about to happen. He gave himself over to the memory of the hunger. When the sleep spray came, the trag's adrenaline burned right through it. He lept upon the werebat like a wild animal, claws and teeth tearing into it. A savage scream ripped through the night air, full of monster ferocity. The bat, for its part, died silently. * * * Smallbeard did his best to fight the mist, but through he remained awake, he could not move. He felt the monster's fangs break the skin of his neck. Seconds later, the bat withrdew, screaming in pain. Its screams quickly turned into gurgles as its throat swelled shut. It might have choked to death had not its screams alerted nearby dwarves to its presence. Instead, it was clubbed to death and Smallbeard rushed to the infirmary. The scene repeated itself in Spiritfell, Mountainshade, Moondark, Punishment, Refuge, Steamville and Steadfast. Every one of the town leaders had contracted mine pox, and every one of them had been drinking silver. * * * The people of the Alpha Omega Federation were in an uproar. There had been a concerted attempt on the lives of every town leader during the night. Some were panicking. Others were preparing for war. A few were calling for the death of Sytet, thinking that he must have been among the assassins. Even Pentagruel, when he stormed into Camp Dimtorch with his attacker's head in one hand, was cursing Sytet's entire family line. When he saw Sytet by Kayrok's side, he simply said "Oh." and left to get breakfast. "We were very lucky." said Kayrok as he addressed the assembled council. "One innocent person died last night. The death toll could have been much, much higher. No, I was wrong. Luck could not have preserved us like this. We are blessed by Vertarbna." Some of the council members sighed. Kayrok had become a bit of a religious fanatic, lately. "Now first thing's first. Why were we attacked last night? Has anyone done anything to provoke these werebats?" No one spoke. Kayrok turned to Sytet, who was seated at his right. "Sytet, what can you tell us?" Sytet took a moment to gather his thoughts before he spoke. "During my time with the Colony, I saw something similar. We were going to loot a drow elf town near the eastern border. The town was well fortified, had a strong militia, and had a firm chain of command so that if one leader was taken out, another would step in. During the night, we sent in assassins to kill all of the highest leaders. Without leaders, the town was in complete disarray, and taking it was easy. We've seen the same thing happen here. Every one who was attacked is both a mayor and a member of the governing council." "What about Urik?" asked Jora. "Urik isn't either of those." "He is the father of a very large family and a landowner." said Kayrok. "It's possible the werebats assumed he was a mayor of sorts." "So what's next?" asked Greenstar. "What will the enemy do next?" "Impossible to say." replied Sytet. "With the colony, the next step was an all-out invasion. In this scenario, the coordinated assassinations failed catastrophically. There's no telling what they'll do." "If it were me," said Sergeant Oof. "I would use the failed assassinations as a measure of the enemy's strength. I'd go ahead with the attack, but I'd seriously bulk up the artillery and bone up on strategy." "Oof is right." said Pentagruel. "In their position, I would do the same." "It's safe to assume they're not going to back down." said Ruku. "We can only assume Oof and Pentagruel are correct." "But what do they want?" asked Jora. "We still haven't established that." "Treasure." Sytet answered. "Our federation is very wealthy. Werebats are all about power and miney is power. Much of it will go to hiring thurges to make powerful charms, weapons and armor." "So," said Takka. "we're going to ge dealing with an army that can fly, see in the dark, regenerate, AND has magical charms and weapons. "They have raw power on their side." said Kayrok. "But we have our brains. We proved in the battle against the wood elves that knowledge and wisdom are the real power." "Captain," said Sytet. "Werebats are masters of deception. Scarecrows and costumes aren't going to work." "We, too, need power!" said Lo-Mahle. "Power!" Ravenpelt agreed. "That's right." said Ruku. "But consider, lady and gentlemen, we have powers which they do not, and I believe I know what to do." * * * The colony council showed little emotion when Mejnun returned by himself. "Report." they ordered. "The mission was a failure." said the assassin. "I was injured in my attempt to assassinate General Jora, so I withdrew to wait for the others. None of them came to the rendivous location, so I went out to search for them. I found most of them. They had all been killed, and every one of the targets was alive." "Your honesty is appreciated, and will be taken into consideration when your punishment is dealt." said the leader. "But my Lord, they broke my teeth! It's not my fault that I couldn't complete the..." "Silence." ordered the council chair. "This colony does not tolerate failure. Have some dignity." "Yes, my Lord." "Because you have been honest and forthright with us, your death shall be swift and painless." With that, he drew his sword and with a single deft motion, cut off the assassin's head. He then turned to the other members of the council. "To the war room." he said. "We have much planning to do." * * * The next few days were laborious. All work on the pass had stopped. Every capable hand was now committed to Ruku's defense plan. The sole exception was Sytet. As silver would figure heavily in the battle plan, Kayrok did not dare allow Sytet to be exposed, and ordered him to stay out of the way. This didn't set well with Sytet. He needed to be doing something, and there was one thing he could do. Assuming his bat form, Sytet took to the air. He flew back and forth in sweeping semicircles until he found what he was looking for. There were three of them. Vampire bats with very lutinlike eyes. They were hanging on a tree just outside Point Grove. No doubt scouts gathering intelligence. Sytet, not wanting to let on his true nature, began acting like a fruit bat, sinking his fangs into a ripe strawcherry. In time, the three vampire bats took off. Sytet followed at a distance. His wing was aching sorely by the time the trio returned to their cave. He perched in a tree and rested, then proceded into the cave. He found the cavern where the colony council were drawing up battle plans. As soon as he flew in, one of them stiffened and announced "We have an intruder." Sytet dropped to the floor and changed. "Not an intruder." he said. "But a visitor." "You are not of this colony." "No. I am from the colony pertaining to the kofak tribe. Nonetheless, I am a fellow werebat, and I ask for the right to be heard." "Speak then." said the chairman, though it was obvious that he felt no kinship with Sytet, and his tolerance was thin indeed. "I serve High Councilman Kayrok of the Alpha Omega Federation. I have come to ask for terms of peace." "Do they know you are here?" asked the leader. "Yes." Sytet lied. "Kayrok himself sent me in order to stave off a war which would prove devastating for both sides." "Curious how he seems to think that. We have been observing you for months. We know your strengths and weaknesses. Our findings show that a war between your forces and ours would hold very little devastation for us." "I'm sure that's what your assassins thought." The leader stiffened. "We defeated an army of ten thousand wood elves with very few casualties." "We are not wood elves. We are the Yarasa colony, and I am High General Savashi. Enchanted mud and pine sap may fool elves, but we are smarter than that. I suggest you go and tell your master that if he wants to live, he'd better start running." "There is no need for this, General. Kayrok is willing to make you all wealthy beyond your wildest dreams if you will but come to him in peace." "Ah, but would those riches include the blood of goblins, dwarves and gnomes?" Sytet only stared in horror. "The Yarasa are not fruit bats." said the general, voice dripping with contempt. "We will have blood." "So be it." said Sytet, transforming. "Not so fast." Four of the other council members grabbed Sytet's wings and legs, hauling him down to the ground. Sytet returned to lutin form, but could not get free. Savashi touched his sword to Sytet's elbow, then said "Just to make it clear that we are not to be trifled with, you will be walking home." He raised the sword and brought it down. * * * By the time Sytet made it back to Point Grove, the bandage he had made from his clothes was soaked with blood, and Sytet himself was extremely faint. He had been struggling just to stay upright. When he saw Point, he stopped struggling and fell to the ground. The cyclops immediately scooped him up and took him into his cave, laying him on his own bed. From the shelf, he took a small slate. Upon it, he wrote "Sytet here, badly injured. Send medic. -Point" A few moments passed. The message erased itself. Another message appeared as someone far away wrote. "Hornbeam coming. Nature of injury?" "Arm gone." wrote Point. "Put pressure above wound. Give plenty water. Be there quick." "It's a good thing Sytet is a werebat." said Hornbeam shortly after he arrived. "A normal lutin would have been dead by now, but his body has been trying its hardest to heal the injury." "I have to talk to Kayrok." said Sytet. "You have to lay still and let me fix you." replied Hornbeam. "I saw their battle plans. I was in the war room. I know what they're planning. Kayrok needs to know, and he needs to know now." Hornbeam adressed Point without looking up from his work. "Get on the slate. Tell Kayrok to come up here as soon as he can." * * * "I was thinking like a fruit bat." said Sytet. "They do want the gold and jewels, but that's all secondary. They want US. Goblin blood is the perfect food for them. They plan to capture us and make us their livestock. Some of us would be kept alive and used to produce blood. Others would be eaten. The Yarasa are canibals." "Go on." said Kayrok, nodding in understanding. "They'll begin at Point Grove." said Sytet. They will burn everything. Our people will be forced to flee to the south. Then they'll do the same at North Hunger, Rider and Punishment. They'll form a ring around the whole area. Anyone trying to flee outward will be hunted down and captured. Their plan is to herd us into the pass. Once they have us trapped within, they can capture us at their leisure." "You have done very well, Sytet!" said the commander. "Remind me to promote you, later!" "Remember to promote me later." "Thank you, I shall!" * * * Deep in the forest, a fox looked out of its burrow, watching the night sky. When the stars became obscured by thick clouds of bats, the fox went inside the den, where he took a piece of chalk in his mouth and on a magic slate, marked a large X. * * * "That's Thnad's signal." said Point. "Get ready." The knockers nodded and stoked the fire under the boiler. Peering out of the cave, Point could see tiny points of light like slowly moving stars. The bats were coming, and bringing fire. In his hand, Point held a weapon. It was connected to a hose which was in turn connected to the boiler which had been hastily constructed over the past few days. On top was a tank filled with silver dust. As soon as the bats reached point grove, they began setting the trees on fire. Point was furious. He pulled the trigger on his weapon. A humungous plume of steam shot from the muzzle. The steam extinguished the fire handily, and the silver dust carried by the steam burned the bats like acid. Following his example, the goblins opened fire, filling the air with silver powder. Similar things were happening in towns around the outer edge of the federation. Steamville especially was filling the night with steam and silver. The mighty Yarasa were falling like flies, dropping to the ground and writhing in agony as their skin and lungs burned. No one had any illusions about the werebats being like the elves. Elves could be subdued by defeat. Werebats, only driven harder. There were to be no prisoners. As the steamers shot the bats out of the air, others ran out with silver weapons and put the creatures out of everyone's misery. Deep in the mines, a bat and a chipmunk sat and waited. The two of them would be killed instantly if they were exposed to the air outside. Sytet hated waiting, but there was little he could do with one wing, anyhow. Urik didn't really seem to mind, having been given a large pile of seeds and nuts to keep him occupied. * * * It was strangely quiet. The were bats had stopped attacking. The federation fighters waited with bated breath. Then, all at once, two bats came down in every town. Each one bore a pair of magic cuffs. Swooping in despite the agonizing burns inflicted by the airborne silver, they pointed their hands at the fires beneath each boiler and let out a spray of sand. The fires were extinguished in short order. "Now!" bellowed Kayrok. "Phase two! Go!" While teams of goblins worked to restore the boiler fires, others lit the fuses of some very special weapons. They shot into the air, leaving brilliant streaks of light, and exploded into brilliant fire-flowers in the night sky. Each one was loaded with silver powder, causing any werebat still in the air to scream in pain and plummet to the ground as their flesh burned. Teams of hunters and trackers went out in search of the fallen enemy to finish them off. Savashi swooped past the gates of the pass into the tunnel beyond. His skin was red and blistered, but his blood burned even hotter than his skin. Never had he thought that the Yarasa could be beaten by a bunch of ordinary goblins, yet in a scant few minutes, his entire colony had been killed in battle. Someone would pay for this, and he'd already decided who. He knew that at least one enemy soldier would be hiding from the silver-filled air. The only suitable place was in the mines. Savashi listened and sniffed. His senses took him to precisely the right tunnel. There was Sytet, sitting calmly and watching. "I knew you'd come." said Sytet. "You've lost. And now you want to take it out on me." "You did this!" Savashi hissed. "You goaded us into this battle!" "The silver dust is affecting your brain, Savashi. But what you think is irrelevant. This is where you die." Moving to a large rock, he lifted a sword which had been hidden there. Savashi paused for a moment, hand on his own weapon, then in a blur, transformed, scooped up Urik in his talons, and flew off. Sytet had not expected this. He dropped his sword and took off after the enemy leader. Ravenpelt saw Savashi fly past with a rodent in his talons and immediately knew what had happened. Going at once to the magic slate, he wrote "Savashi going N to Cephas w/ Urik captive" "Thanks. Have plan." someone wrote back. That someone was Smallbeard. He'd been working on this plan for some time as a way to give Urik more free time, though he didn't know if it would work. Taking a sack of very carefully prepared minerals, he mixed them with black powder and lay a trail of black powder for a fuse. "Here he comes!" someone shouted from the south. "Everyone, shield your eyes! Fire in the hole!" He lit the trail of powder. When the trail was gone, a brilliant light filled the cavern. Savashi was confused as to how the sun could possibly be here, underground, in the middle of the night. In his confusion, he started to spin out of control. At the same time, his captive grew. His tail shrank away. His fur sank into green skin. Pound upon pound came back into being. Savashi struggled to compensate for the extra weight, but Urik's transformation was much faster than his own, and the two tumbled to the ground. As soon as he was able to pick himself up, Urik moved to grab his captor by the neck, but the move was unnecessary. Savashi had been crushed by Urik's weight. As the miniature sun died down, Urik changed back into a chipmunk. As Smallbeard approached him, he looked up with questioning eyes. "Simulated sunlight." said the dwarf. "Hard to make, and it only lasts for seconds, but when you need a pinch of daylight in an emergency, it's just the thing." * * * The Yarasa had been wiped out. As Sytet had explained, there was no distinction in a werebat colony between a citizen and a soldier. Every person of fighting age had been in the sky that night and been killed in battle. Kayrok asked Sytet to lead a mission to the Yarasa's caverns to bring back whatever spoils could be claimed. The werebat had ridden on the back of Urik's son, Micho, for most of the distance, unwilling to set foot on the silver-dusted ground. When he reached the cave with his team of treasure hunters, he was surprised by a strange sound. The cave was not uninhabited, not the Yarasa extinct. In a distant nook, about thirty small werebats were huddled. These were the ones who had not been of fighting age, who were now orphans. They were scared and hungry, and some were crying. "Should we slay them?" asked Mumbor. "No." answered Sytet. "They are not responsible for the actions of their parents. Let us bring them with us." Squatting down to eye level with the younglings, Sytet softly uttered "I'm sorry, little ones, but your mothers and fathers are gone. But don't be adraid. We shall take care of you." Jun quickly whipped up a weather-altering spell to create a storm and wash the land clean. He just had the feeling he needed to do this right away. His suspicions were confirmed when the looting party came back with a large number of werebat children. They made their way to camp Dimtorch. When Captain Kayrok saw the situation, his heart melted. "Send word to all the villages." he ordered. "We need thirty sets of parents willing to adopt orphaned children." Over the course of the next several days, he watched the young werebats be moved one by one from the care of Sytet to the care of loving homes. No one bore any malice against the children, especially after Kayrok made it clear to the entire council that they now had a chance to love an enemy into a friend. He only hoped that the children would respond to that love. From what he knew of Sytet, there was little to fear along those lines. One by one, the group which he saw playing in the camp square and riding the train to Splim's for meals dwindled to a few, and finally one. The oldest boy, a lad named Sopok, had not been chosen. Kayrok's heart went out to him. He knew what it was like to be the most undesired. One morning, seeing Sopok at the coral, he approached the boy. "Good morning." he said. "Hi." said Sopok, not taking his eyes off of the horses. "Beautiful creatures, aren't they." "I guess so." replied the boy, showing no joy. "Sopok, do you blame us for your parents' death?" "No." said Sopok, plainly. "The older ones were always talking like it was their sacred duty to conquer others, but Sytet explained everything. It wasn't your fault." "I'm glad to hear you say that." "Okay." "Because... well... I've been considering adoption for some time." Sopok turned. "What?" "And honestly, I had my eye on you. I always wanted a son. But I was worried that you might blame me for the loss of your parents." "No. No, I don't." Sopok said, though Kayrok wasn't a hundred persent certain that true. Neverthgeless, he took the boy at his word. "How would you feel about becoming my son, Sopok?" "It would be an honor, Sir." It wasn't exactly an outpouring of joy, but Kayrok decided to take what he could get. "Dinner is at five."he said, and returned to the CQ to prepare a room for his new son. * * * Sitting with Sytet in Splim's restaurant, Kayrok took a swig of hard cider and regarded his friend. "I noticed you didn't adopt one of the your Yarasa." he said. "I thought you would have been the first, being a fellow werebat." "I'm not exactly the family type, Sir. Not since... Well, not since I was young." "Harvests are going very well." said Kayrok. "I've been drawing up plans for a food bank to store all of our excess bounty. I need a reliable lutin to take charge of it. I want that to be you." "Thank you, Sir. However, I was going to ask for permission to send myself on an extended mission." Kayrok tilted his head. "To Lavamist?" "Yes, Sir. The ground and trees in this area are still very polluted with silver dust. My feet have become rather irritated. I believe I really should leave the area, and we have been discussing a mission to Lavamist for some time." "What about your arm?" "It doesn't take two hands to stay on a pony's back. Besides which, my arm has already begun to grow back." Sytet pulled back his sleve to reveal a tiny hand. "By the time I arrive at Lavamist, it may already be fully formed." "Very well. Permission granted." * * * Grickle and Grackle loved living in Refuge. Being both lutins and bats, they loved living underground, yet having lots of space to fly and run. They also enjoyed digging, working their muscles hard. They begged their father, a dwarf named Bristley, to take them to work. Immediately, Smallbeard saw their potential and put them to work. Being very much at home on the ceiling, he had them each dig an air vent to the surface. This they did with surprising quickness, probably thanks to their competetive streak. When the boys finally breached the surface, it was a breathtaking sight. They emerged within a beautiful river canyon. To the south, they could see beautiful snowcapped mountains and a distant waterfall which fed the forest below. To the south, the canyon opened up as if it had been dug. In the floor of the canyon, a valley, and in that valley, a castle. With a glance at one another, the twins assumed bat form and went to investigate. Landing near the castle, they turned back into lutins and marvelled at the building and the town boyond with its beautiful gardens. "Think anybody still lives here?" asked Grickle. "Someone has to." said Grackle. "The plants are too well groomed." "Oh, someone does live here." someone said. The boys spun around to see an armed guard with a crossbow. They knew that if they turned into bats to escape, they would only become easy targets, so they put up their hands instead. "Though we don't generally give a warm welcome to goblin spies."