Joreen heard Vengar's shouts as he went by.  She was sitting on the
remnants of a fallen tree, busily fletching arrows, and placing the
elven glamour of seeking upon each arrow.  Once her quiver was
completely filled, she went over to where Elana was busily instructing
Zeph on the tenets of elven magic.  The two were working on the
forcebolt spell, and Joreen nodded approvingly.  That would definately
be helpful in the coming battle.  She notified Elana of her plans to
scout out the approaches to the Little Dragon's Horn, and to relay those
plans to the others.  With a farewell hug to both Elana and Zeph, she
made her way through the lines and slowly toward the objective hill.
     Along the way, Joreen used one of the elven army's greatest
scouting spells, that of sight bending.  Once complete, the chances of
anyone spotting her were much reduced, as light and line of sight would
bend around her person.  At best, a potential enemy would see something
of a shifting in the air as she moved.  Still, she would have to be
careful.  The closer the potential enemy was, the more reduced was the
effectiveness of the glamour.  But these were things all well trained
scouts for the royal army knew.
     The claim of ostensibly scouting approaches that she made to Elana
was not entirely true.  She had already done all the scouting of that
hill their force would need.  What she did *not* want to let the sister
of her love know was that she was going to the hill to do a *very* un-
elvish thing. 
     Assasination was very much frowned upon by the general public of
Tynntangial, and although it was used to great effect by the royal army,
that use was a closely guarded secret within the ranks.  The elvish way
was for open battle, not that of cloak and dagger.
     She made her way up a draw in the hill side, and picked a perfect
spot, with good covering by both tree and bush.  She bided her time,
watching the enemy.  Whenever she noticed what looked like someone
giving orders on the side of the enemy, she would ready her bow, and
that person would soon have an elven arrow through the throat.  After
the fifth such officer Joreen had downed, she moved to another vantage
point, and began the process anew.  Though the enemy sent out many
patrols to try to find where the sniper was, they always came up empty.
     The effects of her sniping were great. Orders were passed out much
more slowly now, as officers were forced to stay down and creep around
relaying them.  Then there was the effect the very noticably elven
arrows were having on the orcs of the enemy force.  They now knew the
ancient enemy of old was out here on the battlefield, and dread began to
infect their ranks.  The elven people had decimated, and nearly
exterminated the orcish races of the Grand Marche, and now the thrice
cursed elven army was venturing forth to *this* side of Ifreann.
     With professional efficiency, Lanceleader Joreen Sandor began to
unravel the moral of the defenders of the Little Dragon's Horn.  She
didn't like the methods she was forced to apply here, but she did her
job with lethal effect.
---je
     'bush' had never been in a battle before, at least, not one like
this.  So when they saw Joreen head off towards the mountain, the Warden
followed.  They didn't want to accidently scratch an ally with the
staff, and it looked like Joreen wasn't staying with the others.
     'bush's suspitions were confirmed when Joreen flickered from sight. =

Even looking through the fog like it wasn't there, they couldn't get a
fix on her.  But they continued towards the hill, blending with the fog
as well as they could.
     The first orc patrol 'bush' ran into was at the base of the hill. 
Taking on the guise of an extension of the nearby bramble-bush, 'bush'
considered the enemy.  Loud, brutish, and smelly, they stood out in the
brush like the Warden had in the void.  Reaching out to the plants, orcs
were all they could sense, other than the Kioshi warriors behind them. 
The orcs disrupted nature, and the Kioshi blended with it, and both were
detectable in those ways.  Of the elf, there was no sense.
     Farther up the hill, and much nearer to the main orcan mass, the
Warden found the orcs in disarray.  Again freezing and melding with a
bramble-bush, it wasn't long before 'bush' found the cause of the
disturbance.  Someone was firing arrows at the orcs, apparently taking
them out randomly.  That someone could only be Joreen.  'bush' looked
around, and took in the plants, but the orcs were causing so great a
disturbance that the Warden couldn't find were the arrows were coming
from.  And they didn't all seem to be coming from the same spot.
     Below =E6bush=C6, the battle had been joined.  Next to them, an orc =
had
just scratched itself on one of the brambles.  An idea began to form in
'bush'=E6s head.  Joreen was creating disorder, by striking randomly at
their ranks, or so it appeared.  This would make it easier to take the
hill, just as the confusion in Montfort had made it easier to escape. 
The n=C6Sete were charging the hill, and in the fog, when they had a
better chance of seeing the orcs than the orcs did them, the orcs had no
real chance.  But when the rest of Soros's armies came after them, as
they surely would, defending Little Dragon's Horn could be very
dangerous.  Best to leave the orcs a present.
     The Warden's way around the hill was slow, much slower than the
advance of the n=C6Sete warriors, and their friends.  'bush' made their
way around the hill away from where they had come up.  Orc patrol to orc
patrol, and each one was scratched by 'bush's staff, and one after
another, they fell asleep after the Warden had passed.  It would have
been so easy to return and kill them.  The problem was that the Warden
didn't want them dead yet.  If they died now, it wouldn't work.  But
hidden in the high brush, in the fog, the orcs could sleep for several
hours.  And they had to stay alive for an hour or two.
     =F4Many dangerous plants are going to awake in a little while on thi=
s
ill.  Avoid them if you can, Walks.  Or stay with us.  Strangle vines,
paralyzing creepers, black sleeping lotus's, perhaps even a yellow musk
creeper, all are going to come alive on this hill's sides.  Come, help
me spread the warning amoung our friends.=F6
---jen
     Walks-On-Two-Legs found it difficult to make his allies understand
his meaning as he helped relay the Warden's message, but he did his
best.  He understood the threat the plants would hold and did not wish
to see those fighting on the side of nature harmed by her.
---dw
     The Warden didn't get to as many people as they would have liked,
before the call went out.  The enemy was attacking.  But the plants
would come out soon, and if 'bush' had anything to do with it, they
would grow fast.
---jen
     The time for talking was past.  Walks had learned to avoid
dangerous plants growing up, and knew that the Warden would be well
protected by them, so he turned his attentions to the enemy.  Under the
cover of darkness, the giant weasel moved down the hill, attacking
ferociously and with the element of surprise.  Several enemy weapons
found purchase in his hide, but the wounds healed quickly and any who
faced Walks died at his teeth and claws.
     When the battle began, Walks-On-Two-Legs had every intention of
staying near the Warden to protect them.  But as the combat raged on,
men and orcs separated the giant weasel from his chosen ward. 
Separating the two had been a mistake on the part of Soros' troops.
     Finding himself surrounded by the enemy, Walks had no reason to
hold back.  He lashed out with tooth and claw, ripping out throats and
opening wounds that would, at best, leave hideous scars on his victims.
     Finally, the tide of the battle turned, and Walks made his way
through the remaining enemy forces to the top of the hill that his
allies had pointed out before.
     He made his way to the Warden's side.  His fur was matted with
blood, but no wounds showed.  "How are you Warden?  I am sorry we were
separated."
---dw

     In the enemy camp, moral was crumbling.  Subordinates were on the
verge of panic, commanders were fearful of snipers (in their minds there
had to be more than just one), and Soros was loosing his temper (as per
usual when things did not go according to his design).  His plan of an
ambush was all but destroyed.  His troops had been found out. 
Strategies would have to be renegotiated.  And quickly.  It would seem
that his foe had a nastier bite than he had earlier anticipated.  And
damn that fog!
     Something had to be done.  A courier was sent and mercifully made
it to his destination.  A mage was summoned and quickly joined the
aghast ranks upon the hill.
     Within seconds, spells were invoked and a finger was pointed. 
Joreen's position was revealed.
---ds
     Joreen cringed when she saw the blue-robed man pointing in her
direction.  She fired one last arrow, aiming for his throat, then began
to move.
---je
     With only a general idea of her position, several volleys were
launched hap-hazardly in a desperate attempt to strike down the sniper.
---ds
     She began to move around, pushing her keen elven eyesight and elven
dexterity to their limit.  Arrow after arrow thudded harmlessly into the
ground.  She watched intently as the arrows rained down, and stepped
between them with the grace of a dancer.  As the last such volley rained
down, Joreen's skill faltered, and an arrow drove through her left
shoulder.  She quickly reached over her shoulder, and cut the shaft of
the arrow with her boot knife.  Grittting her teeth, she yanked the
arrow out with her right hand. She quickly slapped a feild dressing on,
and muttered the combat spell which would staunch the blood flow.  She
then tested her left arm, and found that she would no longer be able to
aim her bow with much accuracy.  She discarded her bow and quiver, and
drew her sword.
     Looking around, she quickly took in the current status of the
battlefield.  To all intents and purposes, the enemy were all around
her.  She would surely be dead right now, but for the cloaking glamour
which currently kept her from the enemies sight.  She looked to see if
she could find the mage which had earlier pointed her out, but he was
gone from the field.  Either her hurried shot had struck true and he was
dead, or Soros had removed this asset from the endangered hill.
     Suddenly, she spotted a patrol which was being sent in her
direction.  She could see that the the forces of Therion were on the
approach, and even now had begun to engage the enemy's forces at the
bottom of the hill.  There was too much danger for a sight cloaked
soldier to go that way.  Joreen made a quick decision, and charged up
the hill instead.
     She never slowed down, and hacked and slashed at the enemy as she
went along.  She began to wail loudly, and screamed out in olden orcish 
"Ye have intruded upon my barrow.  Now ye shall pay the ultimate price! 
I curse thee, and shall gnaw upon thy bones before G'rishnarr (Orcan god
of the undead)!  Waaaiieeee!"  Soon pandemonium broke out upon the
hilltop, as the near invisible form slashed both orc and human alike. 
     The word spread like wildfire - The Little Dragon's Horn was
haunted by a barrow wight!  Though the human mercenaries tried to
restore order, the orcs began to flee down the hill, screaming the news
about out the wight along the way.  Any human who tried to stop them was
quickly turned on by their former ally. To the orcs, fighting the enemy
was one thing. That said enemy included the baneful elves was worse
still.  But to tempt the cold caress of a barrow wight was entirely too
much!
     Joreen never knew how effective her ploy had been, for she
continued her single-handed charge over the hill and down the other
side.  She finally made it to a point far on the downslope of the hill. 
She stopped and looked around, and seeing none of the enemy, finally
relaxed.  She was surprised by the fact that this area was so lightly
guarded, and assumed that the enemy soldiers here had been called to the
other side to repel Therion's force.  She was even more surprised when
she heard someone approach close behind her.  Whirling about with her
bloody sword at the ready, she was surprised to see a friendly face. 
One who had saved her life once before, and gave her a green, gangrenous
looking scar on her belly in doing so.  "Is that *you*, Joreen?..." he
asked, seeming sure of the answer.
     It was 'bush'!
---je
     "It looks like the orcs fear the after-life now," the light green
halfling joked.  "They will soon know to fear their dead, hopefully. 
Joreen, let's go back to the top of the hill, we think that Therion's
forces followed closely on your footsteps.  By the way, if you run into
any orcs sleeping in the brush, don't wake them up!  And tell the others
that you see the same thing, please.  Now let us look at that shoulder. 
It is an arrow wound?  Is the arrow still in the shoulder?"
---jen
     Finally, the tide of the battle turned, and Walks made his way
through the remaining enemy forces to the top of the hill that his
allies had pointed out before.
     He made his way to the Warden's side.  His fur was matted with
blood, but no wounds showed.  "How are you Warden?  I am sorry we were
separated."
---dw
     Keeping as safe as possible throughout, Zeph held tightly to
Flanner upon their horse, burying her head against his back.  Galloping
full stride, the pair, along with Elana, sans magic but carrying a nasty
bite for any who stood in her path, made for the top of the tiny hill. 
They met little resistance.  Whatever they did meet however, perished
without mercy, either beneath the hooves of their horses or under the
blade that Flanner wielded with extraordinary skill that even surprised
him.  The taste of blood and glory was in his soul once more.  He felt
more alive in the face of near certain death than he had in a lifetime.
'YEEEEHAAAA', he wailed as he lopped off yet another orc's head.
     Finally the enemy dwindled and they were among friends.  Trembling,
Zeph dismounted with Flanner's aid and they joined the others.
---ds

     Garrison traveled with the bulk of the group.  He occasionally used
an offensive or defensive spell when needed.  He had to reserve his
strength.  It would be needed for healing once they took the hill.
     He paused in his work, sensing the Magic used to locate Joreen.  He
reached out to find the source.  It was familiar, but not exactly.  This
must be some decendent of a mage he had taught.  The blood-line of magic
was strong.  He also felt something else.  The mage wasn't doing this of
his free will.  Someone or something was making him do this. 
     An idea struck.  Garrison pulled out an old scroll.  He placed his
hand on it and the scroll started to glow green.  Garrison tried to
reach out to the mage again, but he was gone.  Garrison sighed.  At
least he would be ready for when the mage returned...  The scroll held
his True Name.
---mwf

     The battle was upon them.  Riding through the mist, Niari felt the
surge of bloodlust in her veins.  Fighting back the emotions of anxiety
and excitment, the Kioshu woman concentrated on her grip on Kiha.  She
was riding without reins, steering the stallion with her legs, her hands
free for confrontation.  Her battle-worn sword sharpened and slicing
through the dewy air as she rode.  Kiha picked his way through the fog
in a deliberate trot.  The only way to ensure the group was together was
to let them pass her so Niari brought up the rear.  Most of the n'Sete
and Therion's little army had passed already.  Soon it would be time to
ride ahead and lead them into the taking of the Little Dragon's Horn. 
     Niari took a deep breath and reached out to the currents around
her, now swirling with activity and life.  She could feel heavy waves of
evil wafting towards her from behind.  The enemy had come to the place
where Therion's group had been.  There was a tightness to their rage at
finding the sight empty.  Niari smiled grimly and blinked some of the
foggy dew from her eyelashes.  Visibility was bad enough as it was. 
     The last n'Sete ki-och passed her several yards to the right.  They
were making as big a circle as possible to hit the very edge of the
hill.  Niari edged Kiha into a faster trot.  Time to catch up.  The area
was secure and *damn* it, why was she so edgy?  Something felt wrong. 
Their forces had already gone by her.  She could feel them.  Past them
were fainter images of the enemy.  St. Valaran's was far to the East. 
To the West and South, more of the enemy.  No, there was something else. =

There was so much evil around her.  It saturated her being and made it
hard for her to concentrate.  Therion's tiny army was a beacon of light
to her senses and she steered Kiha towards it, trusting the stallion's
footing to carry them safely to her employer...
     Several minutes later, she rejoind them, still confused by what she
felt, but more focused on the task at hand.  They had halted only half a
mile from Little Dragon's Horn's base.  The enemy was there, breathing
it's bile into the air.  Disgusting.  Niari's eyes narrowed as she
approached Therion.
     "What are your orders, my Lord?" she asked in a low voice.
---k

     All the while Zeph followed her friends into the fog.  Evening was
fast approaching and an eerie feeling crept just beneath the surface of
her skin.  Then her worse fears were met.  Out of a nearby bush
scrambled a raving man with sword in hand.  Leaping, the man overtook
Zeph and the two crashed to the ground on the opposite side of her
steed.  The wind was knocked clear out of her.  Her assailant stood,
unaffected by the fall and with a blood curdling grin, raised his sword
above his own head, ready at an instant to bring it down upon the
defenseless girl.
     Frozen like a deer staring into a bright light, she stared
helplessly up at the devilish warrior.
     Out of nowhere came Flanner and barrelled into the man.  The two
fell in a tangled heap.  It was all Zeph needed.  Grasping the
opportunity as quick as it had presented itself, she found her opening
and slid her dagger true.
     A terrible scream came from the man and his hold on Flanner
relaxed.
     "Th...thanks," Zeph gasped.  "Your timing is perfect as usual."
     Flanner got himself to his feet and the two took off to find the
others.  With instinct as there guide more than anything they soon met
up with familiar faces.
     "There you are," stated Elana with a note of relief.  "I was
worried that I had lost the two of you."
     The pair grinned despite their close call.
     "Have either one of you seen Garrison?...or Joreen for that
matter?"  
---ds

     They proceeded as planned.  Niari, Vengar, sixteen n'Sete and
twenty of Therion's guard charged the hill, screaming bloody murder with
all their might.  Rushing out of the fog like hounds of hell, they set
upon the enemy army stationed on Little Dragon's Horn.  Soros' men had
no time to ready their arrows.  Steel clashed upon steel as the forces
of light and darkness collided in a furious rage.  Niari's strong left
arm, extended by thirty-eight inches of deathly sharpness, sliced into
the unprotected throat of an Orc, the metal wrenching through flesh like
a hot knife through butter.  Life juices spurted into the misty air as
the Orc's eyes rolled back in its head with pain.  Kicking at its warty
chest with her boot, the Kioshu warrior ripped her sword from the
already lifeless husk and continued on to her next victim.  Her prey was
engaged with the task of defending its flank from an n'Sete warrior who
was hacking a furious attack with his obsidian dagger.  Thus distracted,
the Orc was an easy target for Niari's own sword.  His neck severed from
the back, the beast fell, braindead, into the mist below.  With a quick
nod to her Plainsman, Niari was again a hunter; an angel of death. 
Seven more followers of Soros were brought down in a matter of seconds,
spattering Niari and her stallion with their maloderous blood, dark and
bitter tasting in her mouth.  Sweat and grime covered her armor.  All
the better to kill you, my dear, she thought, her eyes purposefully
crazed with the lust of battle.  The white of her eyes showing all
around, Niari took another life and another, her sword flashing a red
streak all around her like a violent liquid aura.  She was death.  This
is what she has been raised for.  Piercing another of the enemy with her
sword, Niari looked deep into his eyes and smiled as his skull exploded. =

Inferior beings.  They could not deal with the sudden compression of
their lifeforce into the egglike casing that sheltered the brain from
all but her.  She laughed then and sought another.  All around her was
death.  Blood erupted from dying beings with all the force of volcanoes
as more bodies fell to the earth, never to rise again.  Horses trampled
the dying, sealing their fate and mingling their bones with the muddy
battle field that was Little Dragon's Horn.
---k
     Vengar's sword was meeting with similar success as Niari's.  He had
led the advance of the contingent from Therion's army up the hillside,
some distance from where Niari was leading the n'Sete.  The advance had
been grim, but as the enemy's defensive lines came into view, Vengar
gave a battle cry and the group broke into a run.  They descended upon
the unsuspecting orcs like an owl upon its prey, and the battle had been
joined!
     Vengar quickly chose his first target and raced toward him, his
sword drawn and the blackness of the void of its blade nearly invisibile
in the night fog, the wisps of red mistflame seeming to come from
nothing.  The orc was transfixed by this crimson apparition approaching
him, and made no move in defense.  "Such well-trained soldiers," Vengar
thought sarcastically as he dispatched the creature easily.
     Jumping into the trench in which the orc had been standing his
post, Vengar turned to his left to confront another.  He was a bit more
prepared to fight.  The two faced each other, each trying to guage which
opening move would be most appropriate, when a sword violently protruded
from the orc's chest.  As it slumped to the ground, Vengar saw a
Guardsman retrieving his blade from the fresh carrion.  He was about to
thank the man when he saw his eyes snap to something behind Vengar.  The
Guardsman was about to say, "Behind you!" but Vengar was already
spinning around, having taken his cue from the eye movement.  His blade
fully extended, Vengar sliced through the neck of a charging orc, the
assailant's surprise reversed by the sudden response from the intended
victim.  The cut was clean, and the disembodied head flew clear of the
trench and rolled some ways down the hill and out of sight of the fog.
     By now, many of the sleeping soldiery of the enemy had been
awakened, and they were beginning to engage the loyalist forces of Baron
Therion.  Several men were wounded, and Vengar sent them down the hill
to the others, urging them to hurry, for soon the retreat would be
sounded.  Vengar continued to "work
the crowd", at one point engaging three foes at once.  There was an orc
before him in the trench, a mercenary to the rear, and a second orc on
the hillside above him.
     Again, a brief standoff, as each of the attackers decided who had
the most bravery to initiate the fighting with this skilled adversary. 
Finally, the merc to the rear decided he had the best shot.  Raising his
blade high above his head, he charged.
     It was a mistake that was typical of low-price mercenaries.  Vengar
quickly flicked his sword so that is was pointing backwards under his
arm, and simultaneously took several forceful steps to the rear, towards
the first attacker.  The others snapped to the attack as soon as they
saw their comrade move.  As the sword punctured the man's belly and
drove deep into his abdoment, Vengar dropped to his knees and rolled
forward, bringing the hulking mass of the mercenary over his back...and
into the assailant before him.  Ther merc's sword came crashing down
upon the skull of the orc, and the head injury prompted the beast to
cease his hostile intentions.  In short, he was dead.
     Continuing the somersault, Vengar regained his feet and turned to
face the last of his challengers.  The orc, having been disenheartened
by the incredible display put on by Vengar (indeed, even Vengar was
impressed with how it had turned out!), decided to seek his fortunes
elsewhere, and dashed into the night fog, quickly disappearing from
view.
     The battle had gone well!  So far.  But, the enemy was beginning to
marshall his strength, and continuing would surely result in casualties
that they could ill-afford.  Scanning over the battlefield, Vengar found
Niari engaging the enemy and immersed in a battle-induced bloodlust the
kind Vengar had never seen before.  He held his sword straight upwards
until Niari took notice, and then pointed it down the hill.
---m
     It was time.  With a wave of her blood-caked sword, Niari signalled
the others to fall back.
---k
     Vengar then gave a yell to the Guardsmen to retreat.  There was no
sound of desperation in his voice, but more a sound of conviction, and
the men knew that this was a call in accordance to the plan, and not an
indication that things were going badly.  As Therion's men withdrew,
Vengar followed, making sure there were no stragglers.
---m
     The enemy followed as Niari had known they would.  Yeessssss,
follow the flight of my warriors to a place where death will grasp you
in talons of steel.  She laughed again.  The remainder of Therion's
forces opened for them as several of the pursued screamed, "Alicia!" 
The eighty reserves, hidden in the mist raced out and surrounded Soros'
army.  Niari rode through the gauntlet of death and listened to the
cries of the dying humans and Orcs.  Music.  Sweet music.  Scream on.
     With another wave of her sword, the men placed under her command
raced back to the hill to secure the land.  How curious!  Orcs and
humans were charging down the side of the Horn as if they were being
chased by the Dark One himself!  Niari looked to the top of the hill and
urged Kiha into a gallop.  They took the hill, leaving the others behind
in the mist.  And there, as Kiha vaulted the last ridge, Kioshu eyes
spotted an Orc being sliced into ribbons by thin air.  No trick of the
night, Niari knew she had met up with the missing Joreen.  The
Chadwickian guardsmen had reached her now and she threw up a hand to
stay them where they were.  Horrible screams and curses echoed through
the swirling vapors.  Niari gave the signal to hunt down stragglers and
took two Chadwickians with her to aid Joreen.  It was quickly done.  The
remainder of Therions force=C6s joined them, their faces triumphant. 
Therion rode with Garrison.  Giving Niari a quick smile, he gestured to
some of his men and they also rode the perimeter of the hill to secure
the front lines.
---k
     As the patrols were dispatched, Vengar also ordered those staying
behind to scout the fortifications that had just been captured and
report back.  They would have to determine the best positions to occupy,
and also determine what defenses the earthworks provided and what
mobility they afforded.  There would be little chance for rest this
night, but it would likely be the last rest they had in a number of
days.  The coming fight would be intense.  It was entirely possible that
they may not survive.  But for now, they were
victorious.
---m
     Little Dragon's Horn had been taken...now for the real battle.
---k

     It was late in the evening when Commander Breen Acton finally came
through the swirling blue portal, followed close behind by his command
lance.  His mount was led away by one of his men, and he strode towards
Eldarion, and was quickly given an update on the regiment's readiness
status by the Legentor captain.  "...All troops went into move readiness
fifteen minutes ago.  Your five troop commanders will be here shortly
for their orders.  As for dispositions..."  Eldarion squatted down and
began drawing in the dirt, with Commander Acton quickly joining him.
"...your 1st troop has the area here around the portal secured.  2nd
troop is here, 3rd here, and the 4th, which has just finished passing
through, is assembling here. The quartermaster troop has been placed
here, in this draw."  Breen nodded, pleased with Eldarion's initial
deployment of the First Heavies.  He pulled out a field map of the area
from his pack and unrolled it over Eldarion's quick sketch in the dirt. 
He studied the map for the hundreth time that day, finally turning as
his troop commanders came out of the darkness and into the torchlight. 
Each one saluted, and Breen returned their salutes smartly.  "Gentlemen. =

As your warning order stated, our objective is here." he said, pointing
to a spot on the map.  "We will fly from this point, over this wood,
over this town of....Montfort, and continue on, nearing our objective
around dawn.  We will travel with all haste, as Captain Elessidel has
been informed by Baron Therion's man, Lorendil, that the battle has
nearly
been enjoined.  My intent is to come to the aid of Baron Therion's
loyalist forces, as is the wish of the Highlord.  We will travel en
masse, with 4th Troop providing flankers."  The 4th Troop commander,
Captain Lorial Glenfol, nodded at this.
     "Be prepared for anything.  This is the first time the royal army
has been dispatched to this side of Ifreann.  Anything could happen. 
Rules of engagement until release point are simple.  Destroy anything
which attacks the regiment.  Lorial, besides flankers, I'll need you to
dispatch a lance to guard the supply trains.  The supply trains will fly
after the main body exactly one hour after we leave.  Normal dispatch
rules for them.  If we are under combat, they will wait until conclusion
of hostilities before landing.  Are there any questions?"
     Captain Galyn Galadon, commander of the 1st troop, spoke up. "Sir,
why are we flying over this town of Montfort?  Does this not bring us
undue risk from whatever dangers may lie below, not to mention
unfriendly eyes?  Should we not fly around the town?"
     Commander Acton shook his head.  "Speed is of the essence, captain.
This town is in the direct line to our objective.  I believe the time we
gain worth the risk from the town.  Next?"
     There were a few more questions, which were quickly answered. 
Finally, the five troop captains rose and saluted, then turned to relay
the orders to the subordinate lanceleaders within their troops.
     Breen Acton went over final preparations with Eldarion.  They both
turned as Lorendil walked in from the darkness, looking somewhat
disturbed.  His words were profound.  "It has begun!"
---je

     Therion was jubilant!  The tactical situation was much improved
with the capture of the Little Dragon Horn, and with his valiant Home
Guard, and the courageous plainsmen, he dared let himself hope for
victory.  Niari had fought with enormous valor, and he promised himself
that if they survived this, he would invite her to join the same order
of Knighthood that Vengar was now part of.
     As Joreen had worked at panicking the orcs, Therion had added to
their fears, and spread terror in their minds.  It had all worked so
well...but there was much left to do, and it could not be forgotten that
this was only a first battle.
     The hill was secured, and Therion found a secluded spot to start
working his mind magic.  He sat down, then reached out with his mind to
find a human mercenary amongst Soros' forces.  He searched about until
he found an officer, and then started to introduce new thoughts and
memories.  The officer began to recall all manner of things that had
never actually happened...what orcs had done to his sister...how Soros
had cheated him...the theft of his inheritance by Soros.  His anger
grew, and the desire for revenge overcame rational thought.  He ordered
his confused soldiers to attack a group of orcs in Soros army.  Not all
obeyed, but a number did, creating considerable confusion and quite a
few casualties....
---d


     Colonel Replee Brande was the owner and commander of the mercenary
regiment known as The Free Company.  The regiment had originally come
out of Karrantine, a kingdom now turned empire around the world on the
continent known as the Grande Marche.  Colonel Brande had originally
seen service as a young officer in the Karrantine Army.  After living
through two wars with the elves to the north of the empire, he had
decided to cut his losses, and left Karrantine service to form his own
mercenary band.  Like him, most of his higher ranking officers had also
seen service for the Imperial Army.
     When they had first left Karrantine, nearly twelve years ago, the
entire regiment was made up of ex-Karrantine soldiery.  Now, after many
contracts, his veteran Karrantines made up only twenty percent of his
force, mostly in the officer and ranking non-commissioned officer corps. =

To replace those soldiers he had lost over the years he had hired from
throughout the lands where he had taken contract.
     The latest contract he had taken was with a self proclaimed lord
named Soros.  This lord wanted the best, and the Free Company had that
reputation.  Though the man was initially pleasant enough, Replee soon
regretted taking the contract he was now in.  But he would see it
through to the last.  That was the way of the Free Company.
     Because of Soros' want to micro-manage the battle plans, Colonel
Brande had finally decided to move the regimental headquarter's away
from that of his employer.  It was here, in his command tent, that he
went over the results of the latest battle and the loss of the Little
Dragon's Horn to the enemy.  He and his friend and chief of
intelligence, Major Cliffton Ventnor, were going over the reports coming
in from the debacle.  "...the orcs panicked, and though we tried to
restore order, some fled this apparition, while the main force ran after
an apparently fleeing enemy force and were encircled and destroyed.  We
lost both Captain Raden and Lieutenant Voral on that damned hill!" 
Colonel Brande winced at his chief of intelligence's words.  Those were
two good men.  Two of the all too few left who had been with him since
the forming of the company.  "And that is not all, sir."  Major Ventnor
continued.  "This was brought back from the hill top.  It was what
killed Captain Raden."  He placed a gore covered arrow on the top of the
field table.  Colonel Brande picked up the arrow, and blanched.  He
looked up at his chief of intelligence, who merely nodded his
confirmation.  "We cannot be certain, but we do believe it is
Tynntanglian.  The fletching is done with the common tie pattern used by
both the Legentors and the Sangentors.  The orcs noticed this as well,
and it added to their panic."
     Colonel Brande stood up from behind the table and walked around to
stand next to his friend.  "Are you telling me that the elven army is
here?  On this side of the world?  Fighting on the side of the enemy?!"
     Major Ventnor thought for a moment before he replied.  "It would go
against the normal policies of Tynntangial to field a force this far
from the elven homeland.  What we may have here is a few ex-Sangentor
mercenaries fighting on the side of the enemy.  But that is just an
optimistic guess made on my
part, given the evidence at hand.  What I *can* tell you is this...there
were no elves among the few prisoners we took, and no elves were sighted
amoung the enemy.  There is just this..." he said, pointing to the arrow
in the hands of his commander.
     The two were suddenly interrupted as the flap to the command tent
was thrown aside, and one of Soros' personal staff stepped inside.  He
stood at attention and proclaimed "The sovereign lord, and rightful
ruler of Chadwick, Lord Soros."  Soros stormed into the tent followed
close behind by a retinue of followers and Gurlith and his orcan guard. 
Soros smiled at Colonel Brande, but his eyes portrayed a deep anger and
hostility at the commander of the Free Company.
     "It would appear the trap that you proposed to me did *not* quite
work out as you had planned.  Now Therion's forces control that hill,
and I wish to know how you propose to get them off and destroy them?" 
Before Colonel Brande could reply, Soros continued.  "There is also the
matter of one of your companies attacking one of Gurlith's."
     Colonel Brande turned towards Major Ventnor, who looked somewhat
embarrassed and said "...ah..yes sir.  I had not come to that yet in
your brief.  It seems that Captain Fengle took a sudden dislike to the
orcs at his flank, and ordered an attack.  Though we ended up subduing
him and bringing his company back online, there were several casualties
on the side of the orcs."
     "Many casualties!" shouted Gurlith, moving forward.  Soros held up
his hand, and the orc chieftan fell silent. Turning back towrds Colonel
Brande, he said "I have told Gurlith that I would compensate him for his
losses from the pay for your services Colonel Brande...as per article
thirty-two of our contract."
     The tent was silent for several moments, until finally Colonel
Brande spoke.  "That *would* be in accordance to our contract, Lord
Soros.  Gurlith, as commander of the Free Company, you have my
apologies.  Captain Fengle acted on his own accord, and he will be
summarily punished."  Turning back to Soros, he continued.  "As for the
current battle situation, the forces of the enemy are indeed on the
Little Dragon's Horn, and my scouts have informed us that they are
improving upon the entrenchments we had made.  In short, they plan to
stay and defend that hill.  I have encircled the hill with my men, and
Gurlith's orcs hold the line directly between the Big Dragon's Horn and
the Little.  I have given orders to begin a seige of the hill, to begin
in the morning..."
     "No!"  Soros interrupted him.  "We have the full advantage here! 
His death has never been this close (referring to Therion).  You will
begin your seige now.  Fight all night long if you must, but grind them
into the dust.  All save the few prisoners I want, whose descriptions I
gave you earlier.  Begin it *now*, commander!"  The tent was once again
silent, as Soros waited for Colonel Brande's reply.  Finally, the
Colonel nodded.  "As you wish, m'Lord."  He said through gritted teeth. 
Soros nodded and once again beemed a smile.  "Splendid!  we shall soon
see an end to this unpleasantness.  I look forward to my victory parade
through Chadwick.  Until then, Colonel..."  Soros turned and strode out
of the tent, followed by Gurlith and the rest of his retinue.
     The two mercenaries stood for a moment in silence.  Major Ventnor
broke the silence by beginning a question.  "Sir, perhaps we should
rethink our contract with this..."  He stopped when Colonel Brande
brought up his hand.  The commander had a dire look upon his face. 
"Major, the Free Company has never reneged on a contract, and it is
*not* going to do so now.  I have regretted signing up with this 'lord'
Soros from the start, but until the contract is completed, we shall
abide by it.  Send out the orders.  The seige begins at once.  We will
continue the attack into the night as our employer has requested."
     Major Ventnor nodded and saluted, and turned to go.  He was stopped
at the entrance to the tent by his commander saying his name.
"Cliff...."  The major turned to see his commander still facing away
from him, leaning on the table, seeming to study the map on the table
top.  He was fingering the arrow which had been pulled from the throat
of Captain Raden.  "...I have a very bad feeling about how this will go,
Cliff.  I know we still outnumber our enemy by near ten to one, but I
still can't shake this feeling."  He looked at the arrow for a moment
more, than grasped it in his fist, and rammed it into the table top. 
The arrow stuck onto the spot on the map marked as the Little Dragon's
Horn.
     Since his commander was silent after that, Major Ventnor continued
on with his orders.  He was disturbed as well.  He had been with Replee
from the birth of the regiment, and before that.  He fought at his side
against the elves of Tynntangial in the empire's foolish attempt to
conquer the elven nation.  In all those years, Replee Brande had always
been an optimist before a battle.  Now, even with all the odds stacked
with him, his commander was unsure of the outcome.  This bothered
Cliffton Ventnor more than anything...
---je

     Niari took count of the damages.  Ten of Therion's sixty-five men
were dead.  Three were wounded.  Of the forty n'Sete, eight now hunted
the skies in search of cloud Yza.  She would mourn them later.  She
passed by Essaut.  The Plainsman had taken a painful gauge to his left
cheek.  Lucky really.  The Orc had been aiming for his juglar.  They had
all done very well. 
     When the hill was finally secure and the survival tally reported to
Therion, Niari begged leave of her employer, which was quickly given. 
After seeing to Kiha, the warrior found a trench and sank into the belly
of it, feeling the cold earth surround her.  She sighed and slowly
allowed the adrenalin to seep out of her body.  Battle rage was never an
easy thing for a Kioshu elite.  Strict control was so fervently
ingrained that to overcome the barriers of discipline, one had to drink
the life of the dying.  Niari had absorbed the life energy of 16
creatures.  Every death had been hers alone to claim as spoils of war. 
Now, as the essence drained out of her and into the earth, she began to
shake.  Too much.  She clamped down and forced some of the energy to
remain within.  She would need it for healing and alertness.  She had
taken several nasty cuts to her legs but had resisted the enemy's many
attempts to remove her from Kiha's back. 
     Removing the metal sheaths from her shins and thighs, Niari
examined her wounds.  Two deep cuts, bruises, some minimal piercings
from misdirected edges.  She would live.  She felt no pain.  The life
force in her was too strong.  She could more hear the pain than feel it. =

The blood still pounded in her ears.  Running her hands down her legs,
Niari gently massaged the muscles.  Concentrating her store of energy on
her wounds, she then sunk into a light trance.  When she awoke, the
deeper wounds had knitted closed
and the more superfical cuts had ceased to be.  Dragging her tired body
from out of the trench, she went to find Vengar.  He had said something
about preparing the hill's defenses for morning...
     Niari did not find Vengar.  Aparently he had taken it upon himself
to scout the enemy.  An n'Sete had reported his departure.  Niari would
not report this to Therion.  Obviously the warrior was also a skilled
tracker and would be fine.  Beside, they could use the intelligence he
would provide.  It seemed that Joreen was missing again as well...
     A quick walk of the hill revealed both n'Sete and Chadwick
guardsmen building defenses at the edgees of the hill, concentrating on
the Western rim which looked up at Big Dragon's Horn, barely visible in
the fog.  Niari's eyes narrowed.  The only thing she could see were a
few flickering lights.  She felt them though.  There were many of them. 
There were the pure evil ones, the Orcs and some men.  There were also
some more ambiguous sources.  Hmmmm...she continued to survey the
progress of Therion's army.
     Fortifications of wood had been discovered near some of the
trenches.  They would be useful.  Also, one of the rear trenches was
being turned into an escape tunnel in case the battle became too
hopeless.  The last few feet were left undug so that the enemy would not
use their escape route as a means of surprise attack.
     Large rocks had been pushed to the edges of the hill to supplement
the few crumbled battlements that had been there for centuries.  No
fortification was more than 8' high.  Luckily, there was enough left to
provide cover for their archers if the enemy approached.  They could
fire and duck back behind a reasonable amount of cover.  Stronger
members of Therion's army were readying rocks to be thrown down the
embankments of Little Dragon's Horn.  If they could not be thrown to
kill, they could be thrown to trip!  During a rush, it was a most simple
and effective means of defense.  While the enemy wasted precious seconds
falling over eachother, a last volley of arrows could be launched before
hand-to-hand combat was engaged.
     The Kioshu woman made her final round, giving structural advice and
nodding her support to the little army.  She could feel the enemy
tensing, their energy excited.  Would they attack tonight?  It made no
sense...then Garrison approached her.
---k
     Garrison made his way thru the injured men and women.  He was
surprised at how few casualties there were.  He proceed to start healing
those that were injured.  None were beyond his power.  After a few hours
rest, they would be as good as new.
     He approached Niari after he was done.  "I see that you still have
some traces of battle left on you."  said the blind man.  "If you allow,
I can remove the remains and drain away some of the fatigue."
---mwf
     Niari smiled.  "Thanks to you, Garrison.  I have not the touch of a
healer and battle scars do not become me..."  she stood and allowed
Garrison to work his magic on her body.
---k
     "Niari.  Have you felt like we are being watched, even with the
fog?  I think it might be my old friend, Jericho, but I'm not sure.  It
is unlike him to have found me and not strike right away.  It makes me
nervious.  It's easy to fight a enemy you know.  But when they start to
change..."
---mwf
     "What is this `Jericho' you speak of?  I too have felt something
strange and it has taken it's toll on me, but it masks itself and I
cannot find it!"  Garrison told her and Niari blanched.
---k
     "Jericho is the pet of the Dark One.  A Shadow Demon.  He is as
powerful as the DarkLord's such as Proctor John.  He and I have met many
times in the past.  He has a personal grudge against me and, next to his
Master's will, has devoted his life to try and destroy me," Garrison
answered.
---mwf
     "It is the same creature I faced at Therion's rescue!  Of course! 
If it is hear now, that would make sense.  We must warn Therion of it's
presence..."  she moved to speak with the Baron as Vengar and Joreen
stormed over the hill.
---k

     Vengar was very pleased.  Though they had taken more casualties
than he had hoped for, the battle had gone as planned.  They had quickly
engaged and routed the enemy, and they now found themselves in a far
better defensive position than before.  Now, in this lull, the small
army would have a brief respite before the next attack fell upon them. 
In that time, wounds would be tended, the captured earthenworks
explored, and plans made for the expected siege.  In the meantime,
Vengar decided to explore the hillside in search for clues as to the
true numbers and composition of the enemy they were facing.
     Satisfied that the Guardsmen under Therion and the Plainsmen under
Niari were busy preparing for the defense of the hill, Vengar made his
way to the crest.  He passed a pair of n'Sete soldiers who were serving
as pickets.  One hailed him in a hushed voice, "Sir!  You cannot go
beyond this point!  We have not explored past here...the area is not
secure."
     "It is alright, my friends.  Rest assured that this hill has been
cleansed of the orcan scum that once infested it.  Besides, I am an
excellent runner!"  Vengar smiled reassuringly at the sentries, patting
the one who had spoken on the shoulder, and proceeded over the crest and
down the opposite side of the hill.  He was surprised by the myriad of
little pinpricks of light that dotted the dark night along the
horizon...clearly the encamped forces of Soros on Big Dragon's Horn. 
What was surprising was that they were not under blackout conditions,
their campfires giving their positions away...and their numbers.
     Figuring about ten men per light, Vengar made a quick mental
estimate of the numbers they faced on the opposite hill.  Some twenty
lights or so could be seen, giving an estimate of about two hundred men. =

He thought about the possibility that this was misinformation, but
discarded it on the grounds that it appeared that most of the enemy had
been comprised of orcs, and orcs were generally not bright enough to use
such clever tactics.  No, the estimate of some two hundred was probably
fairly accurate.  However, there was no way to tell how many were
afield, maneuvering to corner and surround the small army like a rising
flood surrounding a tiny island.  Would they be able to hold off the
waves until Eldarion arrived?
     "Enough pondering," Vengar thought to himself.  "This is a
reconnaissance mission, time to get some information."  He then
crouched, casting his gaze to the ground in search of evidence of
passage...the vast array of massed footprints, the straight lines of
wagon wheels, the characteristic shape of hoofprints.
     It was not long before Vengar realized that he was being watched. 
He cautiously moved his examination area closer to the watcher, never
giving any indication that he knew.  Then, he suddenly turned, his sword
drawn, ready to face whoever the intruder might be.
     "That is an odd way to greet a friend," came a female voice.  It
was Joreen.
     "My apologies, ma'am.  But we are beyond the perimeter, and we must
assume that anyone we encounter is an enemy.  What brings you here?" 
Vengar sheathed his sword.
     "I saw you depart.  I wanted to see what you were up to.  I figured
that you were heading out to scout the enemy, and I thought I could
offer my services.  Of course, this doesn't exactly look like scouting
to me!"  Joreen had a pleasant smile on her face.
     Vengar answered, "That all depends what you are looking for.  The
enemy can make himself appear larger or smaller than he actually is, but
he cannot hide the evidence of his passage once he has already left.  It
is this information that I seek here."
     "I see.  Is there any assistance that I can offer?" asked Joreen in
a sincere effort to aid the tracker.
     "Hmmm...you may look, but it often takes a trained eye to spot the
subtle hints that reveal the information that may expose what the enemy
would prefer remained hidden.  However, I welcome any insight you could
provide!"
     As Vengar continued his inspection of the ground, he and Joreen
discussed the previous battle, and their expectations of what was to
come.  Then, there was a slight noise, barely audible, that sent both
flat to the ground.
     Joreen looked at Vengar with a questioning look on her face, not
risking a verbal inquiry.  Vengar shrugged.  Then, a branch cracked. 
Instinctively, Joreen and Vengar both pulled their heads closer to the
ground.  Someone was approaching!

     "I can't believe that we were ordered to attack *now*!"
     "I know.  It doesn't make any sense.  They're surrounded, we can
pick 'em off when we're good and ready!"
     "Hush you two!  No talking in ranks!"
     The mercenaries marched on, climbing the side of Little Dragon's
Horn that faced back to Soros' forces deployed on the larger hill to the
rear.  Then, the first man tripped and fell forward onto his face.
     "You clumsy oaf...get up!"
     The man didn't move.
     "Get up!  Or the company'll pass you by!"  The second gently kicked
the tripped man, but he still didn't move.  He then bent down and rolled
the man over onto his back.  As he did so, he stiffened and jerked back. =

The man hadn't tripped.  There was the broken shaft of an arrow sticking
out of his chest, the other half having been snapped off as he fell upon
it.
     Three more soldiers fell, and a cry went up: "Sniper!  Take cover!"
     There was a mad scramble as the men of the Free Company dashed for
what little cover there was on the barren hillside.  As they did, more
arrows rained upon them, claiming a victim more often than not.  Several
were wounded, and a few were killed.  As the company was finally getting
under cover, two figures farther up the hill could be seen running for
the crest.  "Bows!" were ordered, and arrows were launched after the
pair, but they were already too far off...and they had the advantage of
elevation.  An officer came charging to where the lead elements had been
grounded by the sniper attack.
     "Major Ventnor!  What can we do for you?" a soldier greeted the
man.
     "Why have we halted?!" the major demanded.  "What is the meaning of
this?"
     The soldier pointed up the hill towards the figures that were
quickly disappearing in the night fog.  "Snipers, sir!  There two of
them run, but there may be others.  We must be cautious."
     The major looked where the man was pointing.  The snipers were just
vanishing from view, but he saw something that disturbed him.  While one
was outfitted in typical gear for a skirmisher, the other was dressed in
the distinctive uniform of a Legentor, of the elven army of Tynntangial. =

And as the Legentors were a tight outfit, it was highly unlikely that
this was a rogue mercenary.  No, the army of Tynntangial was here. 
Colonel Brande would not be pleased.
     Still, there was an assault to launch.  "Get up!  You know there
are not many of them!  We'll run them through like the Free Company is
known for:  quickly and mercilessly!  On your feet, men and pursue those
sorry souls!"
     His words were brave.  But Major Ventnor did not echo that bravery
in his heart.  He knew what the elves' best were capable of.  It would
be a long, hard battle.

     Joreen and Vengar were running hard.  They crested the hill and
were fast approaching the n'Sete pickets.  Vengar yelled to them, "Come! =

The enemy is at our heels!  We must alert the others!"
     They joined the pair, and the four of them ran towards the camp. 
As they got within earshot, Vengar began yelling, "To arms!  To arms! 
The enemy approaches over the hill!  To arms!"
---m
     Niari thought, =F4Thank the Gods they prepared that side!=F6  Niari
quickly found Therion and informed him of Garrison's fears.  The Baron
did not look happy.  They were as ready as they would ever be for this
battle.  It might as well be now.
---k
     The camp, frozen by the sudden approach of the four runners, just
as suddenly sprung to action.  Small wooden forts had been discovered
dotting the trenchlines, and these makeshift fortifications were now
filling with men.  Others began lining the trenches, preparing for the
blow.  Behind a small rise, an archery line was being formed.  Within
minutes, the group was ready.  An eerie silence descended upon the
Little Dragon's Horn.  Therion, Vengar, Niari, Joreen, Garrison, Elana,
Flanner, 'bush', Zeph, the Guardsmen, and the Plainsmen all waited with
grim faces for the enemy to appear.  It seemed to take forever...but
appear they did.
---m

     The orc ran terrified through a mad forest.  He couldn't find the
rest of his company.  The roots and brush caught at his feet, and the
limbs of the trees reached for him, as grotesque faces howled and leered
from the twisted trunks.  The nightmare ended abruptly, his heart
bursting as vines plunged out of his body, meandered along the ground,
and climbed the tree he had been put to sleep under.
     A human mercenary screamed in pain, awakened by a bush springing
from his leg.  The hire-sword tried to scramble to his feet, but the
roots had dug deep, and held him to the ground His suffering ended when
another bush split open his shoulder.  In the silence, the first brought
forth small, bright orange berries.
     The blood-smeared orc swung his heavy, rusted battle-axe in a high
overhand stroke, but the intended n'Sete victim easily sprang back, and
the orc toppled off-balance onto a fallen mercenary that lay between
them.  As the n'Sete brought his weapon down for the killing stroke, the
orc screamed, and the n'Sete struck sudden brambles as well as orc. 
Warned against plants, the n'Sete scrambled back, just in time to escape
the clutches and stabs of the growing thicket.  Within seconds, ashen
roses flared from the midst of the thorns.  The battle quickly moved
away from the thicket, but those warriors on both sides who had been
scratched by the rapidly expanding rose brambles found themselves on
their knees minutes later, retching.
     'bush' stood atop the hill, and allowed themselves a little sad
smile.  The hill sides of Little Dragon Horn were now populated with
horrors which perhaps would have forced said dragon to flee the
territory.  "The war has been joined," the Warden remarked to no one in
particular, and leaning their thorny staff against a nearby maple, they
sat to await the injured.
---jen

     As Joreen and Vengar cleared the last ridge of Little Dragon's
Horn, Niari could sense the enemy in the fog.  The air was getting
clearer now and soon the thick clouds would be but mist.  Already, tufts
of airy greyness were sinking to the earth like a swirling witch's brew
around the feet of Therion's army.  They waited in a hush.  Niari
quietly made the rounds to the waiting men, informing them of exactly
what was happening.  All were told to remain silent until the last
second.  No need to give the enemy any idea of how many of them were
left.  Let them find out for themselves.  So...they waited.
---k
     Joreen and Vengar had safely reached the front lines of defense. 
The fog was dense, and Vengar continued on to make sure the alarm was
spread.  Joreen looked about for a good vantage point, and made for it. 
Jumping into the trench, she somewhat surprised some of the loyal
regulars of Chadwick.  She strung her reclaimed bow, and though her
shoulder ached, made ready to fire.
---je
     Suddenly, the sky exploded.  No, it lit up with magical flame! 
Curse that Soros!  They were revealed! ...And so was the army that crept
towards them in the night.  As Soros' forces looked up and realized they
were no longer hidden by the night, they broke into a mighty rush as
battle cries erupted from every evil throat.  Niari held up her arm. 
Not yet!  They watched as the swarm of Orcs and mercenaries took the
first steps up the Horn, breathing the mist, their black eyes almost
visible in the night-turned-day.  Niari's arm remained up for a second
longer, then flew down like a sword.  n'Sete and Chadwickian arrows shot
up into the flaming sky.  Many of the enemy looked up to see if they
would be hit and were blinded by Soros' magical sun.  How fitting.  Many
of them did not see death rain down on them.  So many of them fell.  So
many more still came.  The Kioshu woman signalled again and more arrows
flew to claim more souls.  More of the evil fell but the army kept
coming.
---k
     The men next to Joreen were also archers, and were letting fly as
fast as they could.  Not so, Joreen.  She was picking her targets as she
had before, waiting to spy what looked like someone giving orders. 
Though her shoulder had been looked at by both Niari and Garrison, it
still throbbed with each arrow she let loose.
---je
     As the sky above Walks-On-Two-Legs burst into flame, the giant
weasel sensed a tugging at his mind.  Tearing through orc after orc, he
made his way to the southern edge of the battle. 
     Pausing, Walks looked out on another army joining the battle.  He
grinned, or at least made the best attempt his bestial face would allow. =

Several bears and and nearly a dozen wolves were joining the fray! 
Walks cried out to them in the predator's tongue, =F4Welcome my brothers!=
 
There are many here that would defile our homes!  Attack without fear
those who hold the larger home!  We fight for nature!"
     The resulting animal war cry struck fear into the hearts of those
of Soros' forces who stood near Walks.  Using tooth and claw, nature's
warriors struck down orc and man alike.
     The mercenaries began to question their role in this battle.  "Even
nature herself is against us!"  And indeed she was, for both the plant
and animal worlds had joined the war....
---dw
     Time for phase two.  Niari's head titled back and her lungs took in
a great spanse of air which was released in a n'Sete Plains greeting. 
It sounded more like the death cry of a giant eagle.  Enemy heads bobbed
up looking for the source of the horrible sound.  Some arrows were
launched but none found their target.
---k
     Joreen was startled by Niari=C6s screamed battle cry up above and to=

her right.  The men with her began to tug her arm downward, so she
followed suit and ducked.  The cry had been a signal of some kind, as
---je a hundred or more large stones were hurled from the top of Little
Dragon's Horn, hitting the advancing forces like an avalanche.  The
enemy cried out in fear, then in pain.  The sounds of bones breaking was
very audible.  The front lines of the enemy were now all but immobilized
and the rest of the army was reduced to pushing through their fallen
companions to continue the advance.  They received no respite.  As they
clamored over each other, another volley of arrows were launched, and
another.  Niari was beginning to grin again.  From her estimates, about
a third of the enemy was already gone and they had not even made it
half-way up the hill.  Now she was almost glad of the light in the sky
so that the failure of his army would be visible by Soros himself!
---k
     It was at that point in the battle when two interesting things
happened.  A giant beast on horseback began attacking Soros' men.  The
creature moved with terrible speed.  An ally?  As the creature cut down
Orc after Orc, the other strange thing hapened.  Just at the point where
the enemy army had been brought down, the hill came to life.  Plants
seemed to spring from the earth, from bodies, from living men!  They
blossomed with large red and yellow flowers, they stank to high heaven,
they screamed awful deafening cries, and they reached out for fleshy
limbs to tangle and hold in viney grips.  Niari's left hand slapped to
the side of her head in wonder.  She looked around at the bizarre
menagerie that had sprung up on the hill.  Orcs, men and plants, mingled
in a writhing, maloderous stew.  Turning back to gage the reactions of
her companiomns, she saw their looks of mingled amusement and confusion. =

Then she saw 'bush' smiling broadly.  =F4Wow,=F6 Niari thought.  =F4The W=
arden
sure doesn't mess around...=F6
     As they stood and watched Soros' men try to withdraw, she
remembered that Walks was out there, somewhere, and hoped the giant
weasel would be alright.  They certainly would not be able to send him
aid for a while.  The Kioshu warrior stood on the lip of the hill and
surveyed the damage being wreaked below.  What next?
---k
     Joreen also noticed that the plant traps that 'bush' had laid were
beginning to have an effect on the enemy.  She smiled as she let fly at
what she thought was another officer, then, nodding to the men she had
shared the trench with, she vaulted out and quickly made her way up the
hill, to check on Eldarion's kin.
---je
     As the enemy troops advanced up the hill, Therion settled down
behind a tree in a depression in the earth.  For those who could see, a
faint image arose from his body, and stood surveying the battle field. 
With his mind seperated from the physical, Therion could wield greater
power...yet, his body was undefended, and so at increased risk. 
     Therion concentrated on the lights in the sky.  He sought amongst
the orcs and human mercenaries for those with a superstitious turn of
mind, those who were afraid, those who could be turned.  He found a
number of such people, and caused them to see within the awe inspiring
flame created over the battlefield a vast host of spectral elves.  Green
fire burned in their eyes, and shafts of purest black flickered amongst
the gathered army.  One soldier clutched his hands to his chest and died
as a ghostly arrow was seen to touch him.
     The soldiers were already tired, and the great magics being used
around them, as well as the rumors of armies from Tynntangial, had not
helped morale.  Therion increased the feelings of fear, dread, and
panic, and caused a few more heart attacks that seemed to be the result
of the illusory arrows!  He tried to build fear in the army, and cause a
self sustaining reaction of panic; and with some he succeeded.  Still,
the attacking army remained intact, and Therion knew that some greater
magic would be needed!
     He turned his attention to several of the buglers, and caused each
to believe he had received orders to signal a general retreat.  The call
went forth, and units began to retire from the field of battle....
---d
     As she watched the enemy withdraw, Niari felt her flesh crawl
beneath her armor.  Anxiety filled her mind and she felt a blanket of
oppression wash over her like a tidal wave.  What in the name of the
Gods was happening now?!?
---k
     Elana had quickened her pace up the hill when she heard the cries
of battle and the lights of sorcery over the hill top.  What she saw
when she reached the site chilled her soul.
---je
     Jericho, who had been secretly following Garrison ever since the
escape from the church, watched the sky explode with light from Soros's
mages.  It was the perfect distraction.  As everyone=C6s eyes took a
moment to adjust from the brightness of the magical fireworks and back
to the darkness of night, Jericho struck.
     He knew where to find Garrison.  He flew towards him, knowing that
he would be sensed before he was near enough to strike.  Garrison stood
at a ridge overlooking the battle that was begining.  He felt an evil
presence from behind him.  One that he knew only too well.  Garrison
pivoted and Druid Fire lanced from his hands.  Jericho, who had been
expecting this, banked to the right and landed in front of Garrison.
[snip]
     Garrison's staff started to glow with blue flames as Jericho landed
in front of him.  The two started to circle slowly. Then, the unexpected
happened.  The flames on Garrison's staff started to fade.  Garrison
wondered in surprise as a wicked grin came over Jericho.  Garrison
stepped back as Jericho advanced, trying to figure out what was going
wrong.  He tried to summon a wall of air between himself and Jericho,
but it failed also.  Then, with the sounds of Zeph and the others
arriving, Garrison moaned, "Elana..."
     The Dark Guard reached forward to strike and knocked Garrison's
staff out of the way.  With a powerful backhand, Jericho struck Garrison
and sent the old man flying backwards.  Garrison flew back twenty feet
before being stopped by a tree.  The crack of ribs could be heard as
Garrison crumbled to the ground.
     "At last!"  Jericho yelled as he dove forward, clawed hands ready
to rend the flesh off of the blind old fool.
---mwf
     It was the beast from the Cleansing!  Niari felt the strength of
it's evil course through her like fire.  Gods, the power of it! 
Staggering, Niari could not adjust to the terrible throbbings of anger
and hatred that threatened to tear her apart.  The monster was even
closer to her now than it had been in Montfort.  It's contact with the
earth and her air, sent bolts of agony racing through her viens.  Tears
streamed down her face as her body screamed. 
     "Cannot stand it!  Cannot take this!"  Niari eyes rolled back in
her head as she let the energy fly from her; a bolt of pure life force. 
Then, her knees locked to prevent her from collapsing.
---k
     Joreen let loose with all she had, as purple forcebolt after
forcebolt streamed from her hands.  Surprisingly, the forcebolts were
joined by some sort of magical blast issuing forth from Niari.
---je
     Jericho was almost on top of Garrison as a force struck him in mid-
glide and threw him to the ground.  The pain was terrible.  All his
nerves were on fire.---mwf  The combined magicks of elven-kind and
Kioshu struck the demon in the side, and did incredible damage.---je  He
pulled himself up on one knee to see where this attack had come from. 
He saw a women (Niari) standing a short distance away from him.  He saw
others too.  Some warriors, an elf and a child.  With some effort
Jericho raised himself up and, seeing the situation turn to his
disadvantage, decided to live to fight another day.  With a final look
at the unmoving body of Garrison, Jericho started to take to wing.  As
he lept into the air, he heard a dwarven battle cry from behind him.
[snip]
     The beast moved but Flanner managed to strike it in the leg,
burying the dagger deep.  Again Flanner tried in vain to retrieve his
weapon.  Again he couldn't.  It was stuck.  As Jericho beat his wings to
take flight, Flanner ducked and tried to retreat.  Unfortunately, the
sleave of Flanner=C6s shirt had been caught in the guard of the dagger. 
"Oh, cursed be me!" he said as he began to be lifted into the air.  The
ground below him started to shrink as they flew higher into the night.
---mwf
     Joreen ran closer, pulling her remaining few arrows out of her
quiver, and aimed at the demon's flying
form.
---je
     "Give me my dagger back you no good son of a fatherless buzzard."
he yelled as he kept hitting Jericho's clawed foot with his free hand. 
"Aaaaahhhhhhh!!!!!"  Flanner screamed as Jericho did a somersault in the
air, trying to free himself of the freeloading dwarf.
     Flanner's head began to spin and everything started to go darker
than it already was.  Jericho grabbed hold of the dwarf's arm, as he
passed out.
     Having an idea Jericho turned north with dwarf in tow.  It would be
a long flight.
---mwf
     Niari let her knees go.  She fell to the ground like a child's
doll.  The earth's energy caressed her and cleared her mind.  She
crawled over to the body of Garrison, where the others had already gone
to check for signs of life...
---k
     Joreen lowered her bow.  There was nothing to be done.  She had
expended her meager arsenal of spells, and the demon was using Flanner
as a dwarven shield.  All she could do was watch as they became a small
dot in the northern sky.  Joreen broke her last arrow in frustration,
then went back to where Niari had crawled to Garrison.  This was an ill
deed done.
---je
     Zeph had first watched her venerable friend, a man who had plucked
her from the grips of death (on more then one occasion) and brought her
to the light of friends and family.  Then she watched another close
friend disappear into the heavens.  All she could do was head for the
broken body of Garrison and   hope she could be of some help.  Her heart
was heavy with tears as she approached.
     Broken, Garrison remained propped more by the effort of the tree he
had so recently met than his effort to sit.  Zeph bent on knee, took his
wrinkled hand in hers and sobbed his name over and over until he finally
spoke.  She flinched in surprise.  He was alive!  A smile poked through
and she thanked her neglected gods.
     "Ch..chi..ld..." began Garrison.  "You have..a gift"
     "Don't speak! interrupted Zeph.  "Save your strength."
     "No! L...listen to me.  You have...you have a gift that-that you
are only distantly...*gasp*=F6  Garrison groaned, and Zeph tightened her
hold on his frail hand, desperate with the thought of his dying.  He
coughed, and continued, =F4aware of.  T-take the..scroll."  Garrison eyed=

the pocket were it was kept.  She took it.  It had been a while since
she had felt the power serge into her palm and up her tiny arm and into
her being.  "With..with Ela- *cough* Elana's help, use the scroll to
neutralize Soros's magician's."  Zeph looked up at Elana.  She smiled
knowingly down at her cousin.
     Suddenly, Zeph could feel Garrison's life force weaken within her
grip.  She returned her earlier look of concern and heartache. 
"Garrison!" she gasped.
     His eyes fluttered as he began to pass out of consciousness, but a
whisper escaped him just before the darkness overtook him completely: 
=F4Not all wizards are eeeevil...=F6  Then he was gone.
     Others would care for him now.  It was important for Zeph and Elana
to leave his side now.  For one, Elana might cause more harm than good
as she inhibited good and evil magics alike.  And for two, Zeph and
Elana had a mission.  Zeph could not forget Garrison's last words - =F4No=
t
all wizards are evil.=F6  What was that all about?
---ds
     Vengar was deeply troubled at the loss of Garrison.  He did not
know if the great wizard was dead or not, but it was painfully clear
that the man would no longer be fighting this battle.  Should the rest
fail also, Garrison would surely be slain by the captors.  But then
again, surely wouldn't all the survivors?
     Vengar had barely known Garrison, and his emotional pain was not
nearly matched by the sorrow felt by those who had been his companion
for far longer.  It was clear that the others, Zeph, Elana, Joreen, and
'bush' were devastated by his fall.  But there were also tactical
concerns, and in many ways these were more pressing.  Garrison
represented a major asset in the magical facet of the defense of Little
Dragon's Horn.  With his incapacitation, the mantle of sorcery fell on
Therion.  While Vengar respected the mindmage's abilities, and
recognized the usefulness of his skills in battle, he feared that the
Baron's lack of a more aggressive arsenal might prove a weakness. 
'bush' had clearly proven that his unique ability to mobilize the forces
of the plant kingdom was playing a key role in their defence, and the
missing weasel Walks-On-Two-Legs was admirably representing the animal
kingdom.  But these unusual resources might not be enough to counter the
hole left by the loss of Garrison.  Vengar resolved to discuss this grim
matter quietly with Niari when he had a chance.
     But that wasn't now.  In complete disrespect for the fallen, the
enemy launched another assault upon the hill.  But there was an ominous
twist.  With the fog haven broken up, the defenders could easily see
Soros' force assembling at the base of Little Dragon's Horn.  But they
weren't advancing.  Suddenly, a bright point of light shot up from
somewhere behind the line at the bottom of the hill.  It arced closer,
and grew in size as it got closer.  Moments before it impacted near the
forward trenches, Vengar screamed at the top of his lungs,
"CATAPULTS!!!" to the jeers and laughter of the enemy troops below.
     Many more balls of flaming pitch were launched upon the hill.  Most
were poorly aimed and did little more but create small mounds of the
fiercely burning substance dotting the hillside.  A few, however, found
their mark, and several of the hastily constructed fortresses along the
trenchlines were set ablaze, the occupants cascading out in a panic,
often times on fire themselves.  Many trenches were also hit, the
burning pitch oozing into the gouge in the earth and rendering the
earthenworks indefensible.  It was a sinister plan to deny the few
defensers the only advantage they had at the hilltop.
     The bombardment seemed to last forever.  But it finally ended. 
When the it was clear that the bombardment was over, Vengar shouted,
"Prepare for attack!"  His knowledge of military tactics was sound.  The
several pitch-fires were too bright to allow anyone to see past them to
the foot of the hill, but through the crackling of the flames could be
heard the undeniable sound of an army on the march.
     A few dozen yards down the hill, at the very edge of the light from
the pitch-fires, they came into view.  A solid line of orcs and men
stretching for as far as could be seen in both directions.  It was
horrifically impressive!  Some of the Chadwickians began to waver, but a
staying word from their more stalwart companions emboldened them to
stay.  Slowly, steadily, the solid wall of the enemy approached,
breaking only to pass around a bonfire, and quickly melting back into an
unbroken chain once past.  Sometimes, they wouldn't even break ranks. 
When they didn't, the form of a soldier could be seen stepping over the
burning mound, the flames licking up around his body like a hungry
serpent tasting his intended meal.  An unfortunate few found themselves
to have been palatable to that serpent, and their clothing flickered
alight and steadily consumed them, their desperate cries shreiking
eerily in the silence of the night.  The holes they left behind were
quickly filled, as the others continued their march forward.
     Suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, Vengar saw Niari lead the
n'Sete in an attack.  Their obsidian blades danced swiftly and cut into
the enemy ranks with strength and determination.  The black sheen and
uneven surfaces of those weapons reflected the light from the bonfires,
and the battle area twinkled as if a thousand fireflies were dancing
some wild, exotic dance.  Vengar was amazed (as he always was) at how
scenes of such incredible beauty and tranquility could be perceived from
the violence of warfare.
     At the same time, the bowstrings from the Home Guard's archers
began singing.  Vengar could see off to his other side Joreen picking
her targets with the same care and consideration that she was becoming
famous for.  Trouble was, it was very hard to determine who the leaders
were in the oncoming hoard.  There were no obvious figures, and it was
impossible to see who was behind the advancing line.  In the sections of
the line held by orcs, whip cracks could be heard, as the unit
commanders literally whipped their troops into a battle frenzy.  But
their vulnerability was significantly reduced by the nearly impregnable
wall of soldiers that swept steadily up the hill.
     Vengar watched intently to see how the enemy would react to the
pre-emptive strike of the n'Sete.  Would they continue up the hill to
engage the others, or turn and join the fray?  If they turned, Vengar
would promptly launch a second attack on their flank with the Guardsmen.
     Unfortunately, they did both.  As a blocking force advanced further
up the hill to engage the line held by the Chadwickians, another broke
away to reinforce those who were hit by the n'Sete.  Vengar so
desperately wanted to come to the aid of Niari and her plainsmen, but
they were under attack themselves.  The melee meant that everyone would
have to fend for themselves.
     The confused battle that ensued was by far the most intense attack
that had been launched thus far.  The first hour saw the combatants hold
their formations to a fair degree, but as casualties forced holes in the
formations (both offensively and defensively), the fighting quickly
degenerated into engagements of semi-autonomous bands of combatants
seeking each other out.  Time and again it appeared that Soros would
have his victory as the orcs and mercenaries pushed the defenders out of
their holes and towards the top of the hill.  Time and again the heroic
efforts of one of the major players averted a complete defeat.  First it
was Joreen, slashing through the ranks of a still-coherent unit of
mercenaries that were pressing the attack hard.  Her single-handed
shattering of such a large unit that was still finctioning as a unit
gave the defenders the opportunity to regroup and once again offer a
stiff defense.  Next, it was Niari, who was seen riding her warhorse
hard into the thick of a fight in the center of the line.  Her galloping
steed was trampling those who were unfortunate enough not to get out of
the way, and Niari was hacking to pieces those who were unfortunate
enough to do so.  She seemed possessed by some intense battle rage that
augmented her already enormous martial skills.  Her widened eyes seemed
almost to glow with a fury that could barely be imagined.  When her eyes
locked briefly with Vengar's, she seemed to stare at him as a person
spying someone that she thought she knew, but couldn't quite recognize. 
Vengar saw that, and broke the gaze, lest the frenzied Niari give up
trying to identify him and choose the only prudent course of action when
faced with an unidentified person in the middle of combat:  attack.
     And then, in the last great push by the enemy in the few hours
before dawn, Vengar had his shining moment.  They had been fighting for
nearly thirty minutes after having been driven from their defensive
works when Vengar took a blow and fell unconscious.  In the heat of
battle, the enemy counted him in the ranks of the dead, and that proved
to be a lethal mistake.  As they pushed the remnants of Therion's army
to the very pinnacle of Little Dragon's Horn, Vengar regained
consciousness.  There was no one around him, but he could clearly hear
the sounds of battle above him.  Quickly gaining his bearings, he
quickly surmised that the sounds of battle were indicating that his side
had run out of room to fall back to.  It was the last stand.  As Vengar
raced to the top of the hill, he spied a large orc barking orders to a
group of the vile creatures who were gathered around him.  They quickly
snapped a salute, and dashed off forward to the fighting.  The orc was
left all alone.  It was clear that he was a high leader of some kind,
and it was uncharacteristic that he would not have his personal
bodyguard nearby.  Perhaps the fighting had sapped so much strength that
even such a luxury was ill-afforded.  Then again, perhaps sensing final
victory, he had dispatched them to the front as the elite troops that
would give him that incremental edge that so often decided the outcome
of such pitched battles.  Whatever the reason, the dirty creature would
soon wished he had kept his bodyguard, as Vengar approached to dispatch
the beast in single combat.  It was as he approached that he realized
that he knew this orc; it was Gurlith!
---m