The Lutin Chronicles Chapter 2, part 2 Vengeance and Release Three months had passed since the establishment of the dwarven town of Cephas within the newly established mines of the Barrier Mountains. The pass had seen significant progress. It was now possible to go nearly half a mile into the mountains. Many metals had been mined, allowing for the creation of more and better tools. Fugu enjoyed the chance to experiment with the metals, especially one that proved to be both light and strong. He called it Illuminum for the way it shone in the light. The entrance to the pass was guarded by a small fortress. The center was a column of stone which the diggers had left in place. To either side were walls made from the stone removed from the pass. A waterfall supplied water to Camp Dimtorch and Cephas, feeding a river which wound around the camp before winding off to the east. Kayrok wanted to build an aqueduct in order to send water north to Mountainshade, but so far, he lacked the needed minerals to properly seal it. They needed gypsum, and the local supply was of very poor quality. Near the northern entrance to Dimtorch, Gitch and Horbeam had done something unthinkable in normal Lutin society. They had opened a clinic. That wasn't the only business which had opened, either. As gold and silver poured into Camp Dimtorch from the mines, it also poured into the local economy. Splim was able to open a restaurant at the south end of Mountainshade. It had become the center of social life for lutin and dwarf alike. A few of the locals had been employed as waitstaff and Udge the philosopher found that he enjoyed helping in the kitchen. Tiro especially enjoyed the cooking and would gladly lug his enormous belly ten miles back and forth each day to fill it with a dinner at Splim's. Consequently, said belly was beginning to shrink. Cranky and Ravenpelt, two of the dwarves, had married local lutin girls. They encouraged their leader, Smallbeard, to do likewise, telling him "Once you go green, you'll never refreen." Smallbeard winced at the mangled rhyme and told them he had other plans. Sujan spent his time mulling over plans. Sometimes it was the projected growth of the pass and mines, sometimes it was strategies for a possible battle. Kayrok knew better than to distract him. Sujan could not feel emotion of any kind. The closest he ever came to happiness was when he was feeding his intellect. Kayrok, on the other hand, rejoiced in every little victory. His superiors had sent him and his Omega Company here to toil their lives away until they died in misery and despair. Instead, by embracing a new way of life foreign to most lutins, they enjoyed a life with purpose and full of happiness. Well... except for Sujan. There was a banner flying over the camp. On it was painted a letter Omega with a crossbar. It symbolized the Omega Company who knew in their hearts that they were secretly alphas. Kayrok smiled as he watched it waving. On the other side of the square, Smallbeard stood. The look in his eyes was sad, as if something very precious to him was missing. Kayrok wandered over to him. "Morning, Mister Smallbeard." he greeted. "Morning, Captain." "What's on your mind, friend?" Smallbeard looked down. "It's nothing important." said the dwarf. "I was just thinking about my old life." "As a slave?" Smallbeard nodded. "It's silly. Forget I mentioned it." "You left something behind." Kayrok guessed. Tears were welling in Smallbeard's eyes. "Yes." he replied. "Or someone. You left family at the mines." Smallbeard shut his eyes and nodded. "My wife, Fairmeadow. I've thought many times about going to rescue her. But it's just impossible." Kayrok nodded and thought for a moment, then called across the square. "Sujan!" Sujan poked his head out from his hut. "Yes, Sir?" "New assignment, Sujan. Draw up plans for an impossible raid on the western mines. Objective: free the slaves." "Yes, Sir." Sujan returned to his hut and began working on the problem. "You would do this for me?" said Smallbeard. "Captain, I don't know how I could ever..." "Not for you. WITH you. You're coming along, Mister dwarf." Smallbeard could not resist whooping for joy. * * * "It's foolishness." said Condor as he chewed on a jagged fingernail. "You'll be killed in minutes." "I know what I'm doing." answered Edge, concentrating on the blade he was sharpening. "It is my duty as heir." "But you're not an heir." Condor pointed out. "Your father said that if anything happened to your brother, Fletch, that the crown was to go to your uncle Strangle." "But is it Uncle Strangle the people want? Or me?" "It's Strangle. They done said so." "Perhaps now, but they'll change their minds when I bring home the head of my brother's killer." "But your brother ain't dead. General Ruku took him prisoner when he helped Pythonus try to assassinate him." "No, no. I assure you, Fletch is quite dead. Killed in a terrible mining accident." "Ah. I get it." Condor shifed thoughtfully. "And what's to keep Strangle from just taking some folks down to Dimtorch to see Fletch for themselves?" "That's the beautiful part. You see, Fletch would never have died if Strangle had freed him. The people will cheer me when I make my challenge." "Okay, hang on. You're going to challenge Strangle?" Edge grinned maniacally and made a slicing motion with his knife. "Okay, let me get this straight. You're going to kill Strangle, then go kill your brother and blame it on Ruku, and then go kill Ruku? In what twisted dream did any of this seem like a good idea?" "Not Ruku. Kayrok." "Nice knowing you, Edge." * * * "Nice weather." said Tripe, casually as he placed some wild pears in his sack. "Yep." replied Foxtooth from across the road as he picked a couple of blueberries. "Great day for gathering." "Mighty fine." Foxtooth agreed. "I've been thinking." said Tripe. "Yeah?" "We've got all this silver and gold, now, but we have to trek hundreds of miles to find anywhere we can spend it." "True." "So what if we got other people to come to us instead?" "Good idea." said Foxtooth as he left the blueberry bush and moved to a nearby blackberry shrub. "We've got a number of lutins that make things, right? And the dwarves are always making stuff out of wood and metal and rock. We could open up a trading post right here by the highway." "Nice idea." "Yeah. It could sell foods from Splim's kitchen, right? Maybe some of Fugu's gizmos, lucky charms from Rugi, maybe some of Mipo's homemade soap..." "I don't think many lutins would buy soap." "True. But dwarves might. The dwarf slaves often come by this way." Foxtooth shrugged. "I don't think this highway sees a lot of traffic." he said. "Sure it does." said Tripe, pointing down the road. "Look, here comes a wagon, now." And indeed, a wagon was coming. It was the supply wagon. Tripe called to the rest of the gathering detail, who ran to greet the bearer of good things. When they reached it, they found the driver doubled over, nearly unconscious. One passenger rode in the back of the wagon, seemingly oblivious to the driver's plight. Booli pulled the driver's head up. His pupils were dilated and his skin was an unnatural yellow. "This man has been poisoned." he declared. "We need to get him to Gitch and Hornbeam right away." "I got this." said Tripe, who unhitched one of the wagon's horses. Placing the yellow-skinned driver across its shoulders, Tripe jumped on and rode south as fast as he could. "What happened?" Foxtooth asked the other lutin. He shrugged and flashed a cherubic smile. "Some people just can't hold their arsenic." * * * "He's going to be okay." Kayrok reported to the gatherers. "Hornbeam has him eating potatoes and succimer root to clean the arsenic out of his system. Nevertheless, he may be here for quite some time." "We've got a new man." said Booli. "We think he may have been the one who poisoined the driver." Kayrok walked up to the supply cart where the new soldier was standing. The man was small, but sinewey. His face was almost childlike, with large eyes framed by curly, dirty blonde hair. His skin was olive in color and had an almost metalic sheen to it. He smiled innocently. "What is your name, soldier?" asked Kayrok. "Azpat, Sir." replied the lutin in a playful tone. "Azpat. Did you poison your driver?" "No, Sir. He's Nasoj's driver, Sir. Not mine." Azpat gave a little laugh. "Did you poison him?" "Oh, no. He poisoned himself. All I did was put the arsenic in his drink. He's the one who drank it." "And why did you do that?" Azpat giggled. "Why not?" "That man could have died. Is that what you wanted?" "That was because he didn't play the game well." Kayrok stopped for a minute. "I'm sorry. The game?" "Yes, Sir. I always play fair. I give all of my victims a warning when I play, you see." He reached into the wagon and produced a bottle. Uncorking it, he bade Kayrok sniff. "Almonds." the captain observed. "Yes, Sir. That's the warning." "Redfoot!" called Kayrok. In a moment, Redfoot appeared and saluted. "Take this man to supply and get him outfitted and housed. Then keep an eye on him and don't let him poison anyone." "Aye, Sir." "Captain," said Tripe. "Do we really want to have a weirdo like that in the camp?" Everyone stared for a moment. "Right. Sorry. Forgot where I was." On the way to the supply hut, Redfoot passed Fugu, who looked a little bit out of breath. He was carrying a bit of paper in one hand. Going to Kayrok, he handed him the paper. "Message from the mines, Sir." said Fugu. "Pythonus claims to have struck emeralds. He says he'll reveal the location for an upgrade in his accomodations." "Agreed." said the captain. "By the way, the supply wagon is here. I believe you had some items coming." "Aye, Sir. We're still needing plaster if we're going to create that aqueduct." He pulled the tarp back to reveal the supplies. There were three buckets of plaster. "This is it?" cried the inventor. "This won't even cover the first few yards." "I'm very sorry, Fugu. You're not the only one who got shorted, either. I ordered twelve swords. I got six. I ordered forty shovels. I got twenty. I ordered two full sets of blacksmithing tools. I got one." Fugu mentally crunched some numbers. "You ordered twice what you needed." he observed. Kayrok nodded. "But that wouldn't have solved your plaster problem, I think. Tell the foreman to agree to Pythonus' terms. If the emeralds are there, allow him to have free reign within Cehas. We want to reward cooperative behavior, after all. But... sit down and rest, first. Gerf is making tea. Why don't you join him for a cup before you make the walk back to the mines? "Aye, Sir." said Fugu. On the way to where Gerf was tending his fire, he passed a lutin carrying a large pot. "Excuse me." said the newcomer. "I'm here with a gift for one of the prisoners. A bulky fellow named Fletch. Where might I find him?" "All of the prisoners are in the mine." said Fugu. "Go talk to Barga. She's the one guarding the entrance. She'll tell you what to do." "Aye. Thanks, Mister." Fugu sat down across from Gerf, who was happily waiting for his water to boil. "There has got to be a better way to get messages from Cephas to Camp Dimtorch." he groaned. Suspended from a tripod over a fire was the teapot which Gerf had fashioned himself. It had two spouts and both spouts were put on sideways. "Nice kettle." said Fugu. "Fun kettle." said Gerf. "I'll bet. You're getting better at the whole pottery thing. At least this one is round." The teapot began to whistle. "Watch!" said Gerf. The pot began to spin, propelled by its own steam, causing Gerf to clap hs hands in delight. "Fun kettle!" he shouted. Fugu chuckled. It took so little to entertain Gerf. He wouldn't be surprised if Gerf had deliberately fashioned the pot to spin like a top. Then he stopped chuckling. His eyes widened as he thought. "Gerf!" he cried. "You're a genius!" "Yeah." Gerf agreed. "I'm a genius!" "What did I do?" * * * Fugu unrolled his plans on Cranky's table. "What do you think?" he asked. "We light a fire in this chamber, the fire produces steam, and the steam propels the trolley. We can send messages and small objects from the mines back to camp in seconds." "Lad, do you realze what you have here?" asked the dwarf. "Scale this up and you can move large carts full of ore effortlessly. Why, lay down rails and you could transport a whole troop from Cephas to Spiritfell in minutes." Udge, who was on mining detail that day, came over to gaze at Fugu's design. "You can do more than that." he offered. "Build a central steam generator and you could use belts, gears and shafts to transfer the motion wherever you want." "Beter than that." said Fugu. "We could use pipes to channel the steam itself. A single fire could power engines from here all the way to Spiritfell." While the men were discussing this, a lutin came by with a large pot. "Say, fellows, could one of you direct me to my brother, Fletch?" "You must be Edge." said Cranky. "I'll take you to him." "Thank you. He'll be ever so glad to see me, I'm sure." * * * "Have you met the new guy?" Wisp asked Tiro as they both left the supply hut with fresh blankets, boots and water gourds. "Yeah." Tiro replied. "He gives me the willies." "They say he poisoned the driver who brought him here." "It's true. The guy was half dead when he arrived." Wisp opened one of his gourds to take a drink. "Uh, better smell that first." Tiro warned. Wisp did. His face fell as he despiritedly uttered "almonds." * * * "You've done well." Kayrok told Sujan as he poured over what Sujan had written and drawn. "Good job." "Do you require anything else, Sir?" asked the second in command. "That will be all for now. Thank you, Sujan." The soldier bowed and returned to his quarters. Smallbeard stared after him, thinking aloud "So that fellow doesn't ever feel anything?" "Not a tear nor a sigh." "How do you know he isn't going to turn on you one day?" "Sujan is a sociopath, but he's loyal. He has no reason to turn on me. He has no ambition, no fear, no ability to hold a grudge." "And that's exactly why he gives me the heebie jeebies." "Well, take a look at what he's come up with." said kayrok, laying out the plans. "Oh. That's good." said Smallbeard. "That's very good. That's flipping brilliant!" Kayrok barked out the names of several of his trusted soldiers. Once they were assembled, he began giving out the most bizarre-sounding orders. "Sytet, fly to Mountainshade and tell Ruku to start gathering as many carrots and beets as he possibly can. The orange carrots, not the purple ones. Hornbeam, start collecting pelts. The more the better. Heads attached if you can get them that way. Booli, get a team of trappers. I want as many different animals as you can possibly collect. I need them alive and unharmed. Norebo, I need dwarven clothing, about six sets. Smallbeard, I need you to find us accomodations in Cephas. Somewhere very dark. Each man fired off a "Yes, Sir." as they rushed to obey their commander's orders. * * * "Shift change." called Snarls as he brought one of the assassins back to his cell and prepared to move the other. "Come on, Fletch. Time to go to work." When Fletch did not respond, he banged on the bars. "Come on! Up and at 'em!" Still nothing. The dwarf carefully opened the door and stepped inside. There was Fletch, laying on the floor of the cell, dead as a doornail. Next to him, the pot of meat which his brother had brought to him, now empty. Snarls immediately sounded the alarm. * * * "And no shaving." said Kayrok as he led his group down the darkened corridors of Cephas. "That includes you, Angu. We're going to be eating a LOT of vegetables. I don't want to hear any complaining." The group spun in unison as the alarm sounded. Kayrok ran to the source of the alarm. "Snarls, report!" "Sir, one of the prisoners is dead. It looks like he was poisoned!" "Bring me Gitch." Kayrok ordered Angu. After a second, he added "Bring me Azpat as well." * * * Gitch took a tiny amount of the suspect meat and tasted it, spitting it out immediately. "It's poisoned, all right. Strychnine. Probably from an Ignatius bean." "Who did this?" asked Kayrok. Everyone looked at Azpat. "Why is everyone looking at me?" asked Azpat, innocently. "Look me in the eye and tell me you didn't do this." "No, Sir." replied the poisoner in his childlike voice. "This person didn't play the game right." "Again with the game." "Yes, Sir. I always give a warning. There was no warning here. That's not fair." "Hmm. Who had access to the pot of meat?" "Just me, Sir." said Snarls. "And Barga, who allowed the prisoner's brother in." "What about the brother himself?" asked Azpat. "What kind of lutin kills his own brother?" said Angu. "One with a political ambition." said Norebo, who many had forgotten was still there. "Fletch was the heir to the chiefdom of Spiritfell. Edge might have done this for the sake of a crown." "But Edge wasn't in line for the chiefdom." Angu argued. "His uncle Strangle is." "Contact Ruku." said Kayrok. "Tell him everything that happened and tell him I want him to investigate the matter. I would do it myself, but I need to stay underground." "Aye." replied Cranky. * * * The month spent underground was boring, despite regular intense training sessions. Nevertheless, it did what it was meant to do. The lack of sunlight had drained the green from the lutins' skin. Kayrok, Norebo, Angu, Gitch and Tripe were becoming quite pale. As they did, the steady diet of beets and carrots, although breeding a hatred of vegetables in all five, was replacing the normal green with a lovely shade of brown. Each one was sporting a big, bushy beard. The addition of the right clothing would complete the illusion, making the lutins look like dwarves. A very pointy-nosed dwarf in Tripe's case, but passable, as long as everyone kept their ears hidden. When the time came to leave, three wagons were prepared. One would carry Kayrok's group, along with Smallbeard. The second would take Sytet, Hornbeam, Thnad, Booli and Jun. The third went to Urik, Barga, Splin, Splim and Foxtooth. Each one was loaded with cages containing verious kinds of animals, from foxes to rabbits to raccoons to ferrets to beavers and so on and so forth. They would make the trip a bit more smelly, and a bit more work, but they would be worth it when the time came. The sixteen of them set out in silence in the early morning, the only sound the quiet stirring of the animals. * * * "Are you enjoying your wine?" Edge asked his uncle Strangle. "It's rather bitter." Strangle replied. "It's Chotaberry wine. It's supposed to be bitter. But if it's too much for you, a pinch of salt will..." "I'm fine." Strangle snapped. He didn't like having his tolerances questioned, especially in public. The two of them, along with Edge's friend, Condor, were eating in front of Edge's hut with about ten different relatives on either side. None of them knew why they were here. Edge had only told them that he had a major announcement to make that night. "Are you all right, uncle? You're sweating." "I'm not feeling well." said Strangle. "I think I had something tonight that went off." Condor nodded to Edge to indicate that the time was right. Edge stood up. "Honorable lutins!" he called in a loud voice. "I have an announcement. I'm sure you have all been wondering what it could be. Now I will tell you. I challenge for the chiefdom of Spiritfell." Strangle nearly choked. "You what? You don't have a chance against me, whelp." "Three months ago, my brother, Fletch, was captured when he attempted to help Pythonus retake Mountainshade from the tyranical conqueror, Kayrok." Strangle laughed. "Is this some new Kayrok I haven't heard about?" Edge ignored him. "A proper regent would have led the men of Spiritfell in a raid against Camp Dimtorch in order to free our rightful chief. Instead, Strangle has allowed him to rot in prison. One month ago, I went to visit my brother in prison. He was wasting away to nothing. I brought him nourishment, but it was too late. He had become so sick that he was beyond recovery. The last thing he said to me was to ask me to avenge him, beginning with the one who shirked his duty to perform a rescue, and to rule in his stead over Spiritfell." "Lies!" Strangle shouted. "Fletch never believed you were competent to lead just as your father before you did not." "You dare to put words in my brother's mouth?" Strangle shot from his seat and stomped toward Edge. "I'll teach you to lie!" he growled. He swung his fist in a broad arc, but stumbled and missed. Edge took advantage of the fumble by socking his uncle in the gut. Strangle pulled an arm back to deliver a powerful haymaker, but Edge ducked inside the swing and delivered an uppercut to the jaw. Enraged even further, Strangle reached out and grabbed Edge by the neck. Edge responded by swiftly kicking his groin three times. Strangle let go, stunned. As he fell to the ground, Edge kicked his ribs several times. Partially recovering, Strangle reached out and grabbed his nephew by the ankle, yanking and toppling him to the ground. That was when he began to shake. Edge worked himself loose from his uncle's grasp and positioned himself to throttle him. Strangle gasped. He could not breathe, and his arms and legs were becoming too stiff to move. Edge leaned in and whispered in his uncle's ear. "If it's any comfort, I never really blamed you. Oh, and by the way, I killed him. I used strychnine from the Ignatius been bush behind your hut. The same strychnine that was in your wine." Strangle felt his life ebbing away. Unable to give voice to his rage, he cried in his heart to Stormhaven for vengeance. * * * The trek to the mining camp had been uneventful. They passed only one traveler, and that had been merely a lost trader from the Lom Shi'Un dynasty. No one knew they were here. Norebo would be the first one in. Dressed in filthy, ragged clothes, he looked just like a dwarf slave. Kayrok handed him a small net sack full of strawberries. Norebo concealed it poorly beneath his shirt. As Norebo approached the camp, Sytet changed into his bat form. He took a lap around the camp, distracting the guards long enough for Norebo to slip in unseen. He found the slave quarters and allowed the guards there to spot him. "Hoy! Where are you going?" Norebo didn't answer, but stared at the ground." "Answer him!" demanded the other guard, giving him a shove. "I was going to my bunk!" Norebo whimpered, allowing the strawberries to fall out of his shirt. "Where did you get these?" demanded the first guard, his face uncomfortably close. "I found them." Norebo replied, careful to keep his voice frightened and submissive. "Well now WE found them." said the other guard. "You get back to your bunk. We'll take care of these." "Yes, Sir." Norebo responsded, scrambling off. Neither guard realized that their keys were now missing. * * * The lutins who were not dressed as dwarves were now donning disguises. Hornbeam had prepared several animal pelts so that they could be worn like costumes. From a distance, the wearers would look like people with animal heads. Jun cast a spell upon the costumes to make them seem more convincing. As an afterthought, he caused the eyes of each one to glow an intense yellow. Next, the group unloaded about two dozen scarecrows. Some were made to look like humans, others like humanoid animals. Jun cast a substitutiary locomotion spell upon them, and they stood. The sun was setting. This was where the biggest gamble happened. All eyes were on Urik. As the last rays of sunlight vanished, Urik's body began to change. His skin became thick and wrinkly. Two of his teeth grew enormously long. "Yes!" he whispered as he removed his tunic and boots. This would be perfect. Taking half of the scarecrows, Barga led her team into the hills surrounding the camp. After several minutes, Hornbeam took his team around the other way. Another few minutes passed, then Barga's voice rang out across the camp. "FOR THE GLORY OF DUKE HASSAN AND METAMOR KEEP!" Instantly, there was panic in the camp. Lutins were demanding of each other how keepers could possibly have come this far into the northlands. Amid a rain of arrows, the guards scrambled, half of them securing the camp and the other half rushing off to fight the ersatz keepers. "Death is upon us!" shouted Kayrok, which was a coded signal for the release of the animals. Hidden behind the bushes, Tripe and Angu each pulled an array of cords, opening the cages and releasing the animals into the camp. It was absolute bedlam. The remaining guards were torn between fighting and fleeing for their lives, believing they were being invaded by transformed keepers. And when one or another did gather the presence of mind to attempt to harm the animals, Urik and Sytet promptly disarmed them and laid them out. Hearing the commotion, Norebo took his cue and let Kayrok's team into the camp. Angu, Gitch, Tripe and Smallbeard dashed one by one through the now unguarded gate. Reaching the slave quarters, the team found the guards, faces still wet with strawberry juice, wide-eyed and ready to kill. "They're ecaping!" cried one. "Sound the alarm!" But neither one moved. Instead, they both stood still as their faces twisted in pain. "Watch the dwarves!" one shouted. "I'll be right back!" "No! You watch the dwarves! I need to go worse!" The lutins pushed and shoved each other in their haste to get to a latrine. They didn't make it. "Thank you, Azpat, for that wonderful suggestion." said Kayrok. He swiped a spare set of keys from the wall. "Start freeing the slaves, and be quick. Tripe..." "I know, Sir." "Good luck." * * * Outside, one of the lutins held a scarecrow which, though missing half its body, was still trying to walk. "It's a trick!" he called. "They're fake!" "Fall back!" called Barga to her team. Not a second later, Hornbeam shouted "CHARGE!" Taken in a pincer movement, the enemy was once again in panic mode. All four were firing multiple arrows at once. The tips were blunted so that the risk of injury was minimal. After all, they were technically on the same side. But the locals didn't know that. Lutins fled every which way in an attempt to retreat. * * * "Thank you all so much!" cried the sixty-some dwarves who had been freed. "We can never repay you!" "All I ask is that we all get out alive." said Kayrok. "Do you have vehicles?" asked one of the dwarves. "Negative. The enemy will have discovered our wagons by now. They'll be waiting to jump us there." Sure enough, a team of six armed guards had collected by the wagons. Tripe caught up with the others. "Captain, this way!" He led them to an area where four large wagons were loaded up with minerals waiting to be shipped out. Three had horses already hitched. Angu and Gitch were working swiftly to put a team on the fourth. From the stables burst two lutins who had been retrieving tack. "Hey! What are you doing with those wagons?" They demanded. Smallbeard and Norebo each trained a knife point on them. "Don't, guys." said Smallbeard. "Just don't." * * * Outside, one of the lutins had managed to count the enemy and realized that there were only eight who were actually alive. "It's a trick!" he called. "There's only eight!" "Now." said Hornbeam. Each soldier pulled a cord within his costume. To the right and left of each one, panels unfolded like wings, each one bearing a head and furry body. To the slavers, it appeared as if the number of keepers had just tripled. Kayrok's team, with the escaped dwarves, watched as they waited to pick up their comrades. The enemy was fooled, but only for a moment. Then, a most amazing thing happened. Light blazed across the hills, illuminating the whole area and revealing a vast army of thousands. The slavers froze in their tracks. They dropped their weapons and sank to their knees in surrender. The wagons started out onto the road as the lutins all ran and piled aboard. Making their getaway at top speed, the lutins and dwarves watched behind them as the light faded and the army once again disappeared. * * * An enormous celebration broke out when Kayrok and company returned with the now free dwarves. Cephas would have to be seriously expanded, but that wouldn't be a problem for sixty-five happy dwarves. "Report." Kayrok said to Sujan. "Any problems in our absence." "Yes, Sir." replied the strategist. "The men of Spiritfell showed up yesterday morning demanding that you come out and face justice for the death of Fletch." "Oh?" "Yes, Sir. I informed them that you were not available and they threatened to ransack the camp. In fact, an attempt was made. However, General Ruku was able to gather enough fighters from Mountainshade to protect the camp. The Spiritfell group quickly surrendered once their presence was known." "Well... that's good news, I guess." "In his investigation, Ruku discovered that Edge was responsible not only for killing Fletch, but Strangle as well." "And how did he discover this?" "From Edge's confidant, Condor, who was easily bribed with a few emeralds. When the information was revealed to the people of Spiritfell, their spirit fell." Kayrok raised an eyebrow. "Sujan, did you just make a joke?" "No, Sir. But if it amuses you, you may take it that way." "Indeed it does." "The end result is that you are now ruler of four cities instead of three." "Excellent work, Sujan." Sujan only nodded in response. As he walked off, Kayrok called to Mumbor and Onju. Walking up to one of the wagons, he said "I wanted you both to see this." Pulling back the cover, he revealed a load of high-quality gypsum. "All four wagons." he said. "Gentlemen, I believe we have an aqueduct to build." "Coincidence." said Mumbor as he plodded off, shuffling his enormous feet. Jora and Udge stood by Onju. "So... tell us about this Vernarbta guy." said Jora. Onju smiled. * * * Another month has passed. Kayrok was finally starting to look like himself again, his skin going back to that healthy shade of grass green. It was good to be in the open air again, despite the onset of winter's chill. He enjoyed the sun on his face as he strode across the camp. On the other side of the bridge, there appeared a lutin. He was scrawny and his face pale. He was dressed only in a ragged tunic and his hair was thin and dirty. "King Kayrok?" he inquired. "While that's technically true, I prefer 'Captain'. And you are?" "Grubs, Sir. Chief of the Moondark tribe. We live in an underground warren fifteen miles to the northwest of here." "And what can I do for you?" "We have heard of the prosperity you have brought to Mountainshade and Spiritfell. We would like you to conquer us too, Sir." Kayrok supressed a laugh. This assignment was really starting to get interesting.