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Wolf Offline OP
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The Heartwood
Loch Faast Keep
To the Mines
Attaday, the Eighth Day of Yrick


Lyric and Keiko … with Dominic, Tomomi, One Fang, Croga, a vanguard of Rats, Raccoons and Deer, and possibly a lurking Weasel

For Lyric, probably became certainty fairly quickly.

Those from the mine had arrived.

For Keiko, it was the end of a long walk through the inside of a sleeping Dragon. Dominic had not gone far, just enough to ensure Keiko’s moment of quiet. He walked beside her as they followed the Forest Folk. The miners, they certainly knew where they were going; going back to their toolbox was a familiar path.

But finding the big door and the anteroom bustling with travel-cloaked Kin, now that was new.

This added a new complication to their escape. The anteroom was about to become a crowded bottleneck; Lyric was looking ahead, seeking a way out that was not simply retracing their way in. The Pack could not be seen but they could be heard, fighting at the base of the Forge stairs and eventually they would be retreating this way too.

The miners; they knew not what to expect – other Forest Folk, perhaps, yes. But the sound of combat was not something comfortable to them. It sent a shiver through their line, something Keiko would immediately notice. Many held tight to their ribbons, looking back to the Rhoni that had promised them something new.


Last edited by Wolf; Sun 10/09/17 16:06 UTC.
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Lyric, a Minstrel running out of time

Suddenly there was so much happening around her and around the chamber. Too much. There had already been so many things for her to keep track of and now those from the mines were arriving.


There was no way they could ever hope to go back the way they came now. Just too many in too small a space with too much opposition. They had to use the Dwarven fortification against itself and against them. Be more clever than the Dwarves.

She was looking up at the grate, into the darkness, but it was hard not to be distracted by the added pressure. Somewhere in the added company there would be one or more of her companions. But that would have to present itself in due time.

She couldn't afford to spare any attention to those errant thoughts. The wounded and bloodied Minstrel focused on solving this next series of problems. Her side hurt. Her healing had not been complete, but the preservation of her magic was critical. The blood that covered her from hair to boot, some hers, some weasel, and some One Fang was drying and uncomfortable now. Her hair was matted and her face was speckled by the splatter from spray and swinging weapons splash.

Focus Lyric.

The grate was made of Darksteel. The controls for the barrel gates were up there, out of sight, in the darkness, with a weasel slinking about the shadows.

Yes, a weasel. She knew this because there was a faintest of shifting in the depths of darkness. it moved, but it was clever enough not to betray it's position. It was not overly wild because it wasn't snapping at them, slavering to reach through the grate. The nasty creature was trained for a specific job and it was doing it well. There could be a fight and Lyric and allies might well win. But it would be too costly in blood and time.

The Darksteel gate would have to have its magic removed. That would have to be Lyric's focus or nothing else mattered.

Light would have to be sent up in there to give a line of sight. Light stones could be gathered by many around them. New arrivals could lend a hand.

A quick mouse would have to go up there and make the weasel give chase. Much had already been asked of that mouse already, but more was needed.

Once the Weasel was on the move, another mouse to go up there and work the mechanism. A brave mouse, a Hero Mouse.

Once the mechanism was opened, then the escape would have to begin in earnest. The Pack would have to fall back and some warriors would have to help lead to clear the way. Companions and those familiar with daring forays and rescues in this place would have to lead as well. Others would have to be last to make sure all those being rescued got out before the water came. That also meant a timely message sent by Emmi.

Lyric suddenly turned to those around her.

"Gather all the nearby light stones or light sources you can find. Just what is close. Hurry."

"Then I will need a rat or two to lift them up through the grate."

"Lockpick," she said turning to the new servant of Arilys. "More than your talents as a mouse, it is your skills in service to your Goddess that will be needed. It is dangerous. Prey must be chased. When the lights go up. We need a quick look for how many Weasels are there. They have to be led away."

Lyric withdrew the mushroom potion from the small carry bag at her side. "This might help. I think you know what it is and how it works." If there was a smile for the irony of the moment, Lockpick would be hard pressed to find it on Lyric's face right now. But the moment wasn't lost on the Minstrel.

Then to Croga. "Once the weasel problem is on the move, then I need you up there to find the mechanism and make it work, or tell us what or who we need to make it work. Understood?"

"I will need all the rats up close, and once this opens up we need to start lifting everyone up through there... everyone who can't get through on their own. Got it?"

"I will pull the magic from one of the gates so that even if we can't get them all open, we at least have some path for a few to start escaping."

"We can do this... We have to do this. Freedom awaits... A new life for all... If you are with me, then let me hear your voice.... Make the Dwarves hear your voice and may they tremble at the sound of Hope and Freedom! Make the Old Masters weep as they understand the cruelty of their ways in the hearing of your defiance."

Lyric will lead them on a couple of rallying shouts and then release them to their tasks. She looked to her chosen grate and began to sing.



Last edited by Phoenix Prime; Fri 09/06/17 16:23 UTC. Reason: sometimes I drop words- important words- words that change the meaning of the entire sentence- Her healing had NOT been complete- sorry for that
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{
OOC: As I have attempted to explain to the GM, I’m having an extremely difficult time writing anything in-character for my character in this game.

I am not interested in the chaos the GM has promised will ensue should I not write a post. I am not interested in causing trouble for the other characters in the game; I am especially not interested in causing trouble for Lyric. I have communicated multiple times to the GM that Keiko would, indeed, attempt to keep order among the Forest Folk.

What’s causing the writer’s block? <shrug> I could attribute it to the 20,000 words I wrote and edited for ADAON, or the highly emotional post I wrote for ARAOK. Heck, it could even be the bizarre amount of duplicated documentation I’ve had to write at work. Maybe it’s the off-the-charts pain. Maybe it’s all of that, and maybe it’s none of that. The point is: I don’t really know. I do know that trying to force something out of nothing only makes it worse. The writer’s block lasts longer.

The point is that Real Life needs to take priority. It’s a maxim here on DreamLyrics. I’d even say it’s a reigning philosophy. I’m only insisting that the courtesy of a break should be extended to me, just as it is for everyone else on the forums.

“[I]f nothing is done, things will go wrong...”

The GM can accept this OOC as an indication of my intended actions for my character, or he can choose to ignore it. It’s his game; it’s his choice.

“...it probably will be mess [sic] and then you’ll ... not post because its [sic] all bad stuff.”

That’s a fair cop. I’ve had my fill of bad stuff.

“[T]his is the role Keiko agreed to — keeping the miners safe and not panicked.”

Yes. That’s what she’s doing. I have told the GM this several times. I believe the problem lies in the GM’s misunderstanding of my use of the words “can’t” and “won’t.”

I can’t manage to write an in-character post worthy of the character and I won’t write an in-character post that violates my integrity as a writer. Writing doesn’t seem to be the problem. Writing in-character is. (It’s not just for Keiko in HWD. It’s most of them — Mary Lee in ARAOK and Andi in FS seem to be the exceptions. The fact that Andi should be paying attention to BTS doesn’t seem to factor into the Voices’ preferences.)

Pain is about 10 on the Allie Brosh Pain Scale (I am actively being mauled by a bear), so I’m going to see if lying down and sleeping will help.

P.S. To reiterate: Don’t expect an in-character post this week from me.
}


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[OOC Hope you feel better soon luv ]

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The Heartwood
Loch Faast Keep
To the Mines
Attaday, the Eighth Day of Yrick


Lyric and Keiko … with Dominic, Tomomi, One Fang, Croga, a vanguard of Rats, Raccoons and Deer, and possibly a lurking Weasel

“Do you realize what I am going to have to do to get a Weasel to drink this?”

The Lockpick looked up from beneath her black travel cloak hood, her deadpan both challenging and challenged. But she did snare the vial that she originally had made from Lyric before hiding it beneath her sable garb.

“Fine. One Weasel I can do.

“Two Weasels and you shall be picking mushrooms for me for a week, ja?”

And with that the Mouse jumped. There was a whumf when The Lockpick left and then, above, in the darkness a second wind borne pop. For a moment there was silence – a silence that was broken by a whispered pair of syllables.

“Ut oh.”

And then the sudden skittering of boots on metal, of someone running very very fast, their retreat accented by a very flat and loud complaint.

“THREE!”

Then it was silent once again. At the least there was silence in the room where Lyric was. Back behind her, in the vestibule, things were starting to fray. At the mine door the frightened Forest Folk were starting to pile up, suddenly brought to a halt, a halt sudden enough to push them together, which was not a good thing for the smallest of them. Then, as if once, there was a sudden surge backwards, not a panic, not a rout, but definitely a retreat of two or three frightened steps.

“What’s that?”

“I dunno … but they are fighting the Masters!”

The noise of combat had definitely reached the bottom of the forge stairs, which meant they were now being defended one riser at a time, making sure that each retreating step cost the Dwarves in blood. But it also meant that the Pack must have also been reaching the end of their own individual limits.

“Is that a Wuff?”

“Wuffs are mythical Kin!”

“It’s gotta be a Wuff!”

“Is it still breathing?”

“I dunno, I’m scared to look!”

What exactly was happening, at that dangerous bottleneck could only be seen by those who were there; and while both Keiko and Lyric would be able to do just that, it would mean changing their current tasks.

It was Lyric who almost ended up in trouble, however. Perhaps Croga’s leaving and subsequent unseen scurrying had distracted the minstrel. That there was no panicked return and no Weasel growl meant that The Lockpick had successfully run away and taken the Weasels with her. Only a fast thinking Deer, a teamster, a hauler of heavy things, saved her from being clobbered by her own magic.

Yes, she was able to dissolve the Darksteel that held the grate disc closed. Which meant the heavy hatch then plummeted from above to below! The minstrel was pushed aside just in time.

That was when Croga called out.

“We got pulling bars! Lots of them. But they are real tight.”

Probably designed for Dwarves.

“And they got carvings, like when Lady teaches us about writing.”


Last edited by Wolf; Sun 18/06/17 19:55 UTC.
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Keiko

While leading from the rear had seemed to be a prudent idea when the Forest Folk began their walk back toward the door, the general sense of uneasiness made Keiko reassess the plan.

“Would you mind keeping an eye out for stragglers, Dommi?” she murmured. “I’m going to see if I can... I don’t know. Reassure folks, I guess. Thanks.” She smiled, but it was a tired smile. None of this was anything she was accustomed to doing. Well. Fine. Not much of it.

As she moved toward the front of the line, her pace increased enough to pass the miners but not quickly enough that she wouldn’t note anyone who seemed particularly distressed. In those instances, she slowed to their pace and spoke with them — all was well, or would be very soon; they were quite brave to be doing something new and different; she believed with all her heart that they were doing exactly what they ought to be doing; no one that she knew was unhappy with them at all!

She reached the front of the line just as those in the lead stopped moving.

“Oh, yes! Those are definitely very real Wuffs, and some of the fiercest and bravest folks I know. Come, let’s get you to your places around the table, shall we? No, no... there’s no need to be scared, not at all. The Wuffs are my friends, just as Silly Dommi is, just as Miss Tomomi is. Come now, everyone needs to get out of the mines.”

Keiko glanced at Lyric, not quite sure what she was doing besides singing. But surely it must be something a minstrel would do, and that meant all was well. Although her friend did have entirely too much blood and... well, disgusting bits all over her. She was standing, though.

“There, that’s right, just follow Miss Tomomi. She’s a very brave and clever Mouse. Dommi will make sure all your friends come up—”

She almost screamed when the grate fell. Instead, it came out as a high-pitched wail. Keiko definitely would have screamed if the Deer hadn’t knocked Lyric out of the way.

Too many things seemed to be happening all at once. Keiko did not like when that was going on. Too many currents, too many waves, too much chaos!

One wave at a time... just look at one wave at a time.

“Tomomi, will you and Mister Horse please see that everyone gets to the common room here? Thank you. DOMMI!! Littlest Mouse has writing that needs to be read!”

And then Keiko ran over to her friend and knelt beside her, looking for injuries and hoping not to find any.

“Lyric! Lyric, I can’t tell if you’re hurt, there’s too much blood!”

Why did she feel like she might cry? No. That wasn’t something she did. She was level-headed and calm.

Apparently not, when she was terrified for a friend.

No. Most of the blood and... and mess was dry or drying.

She only allowed her friend to sit up before crushing her in a hug — which, given the Rhoni’s petite stature, was surprisingly strong.

“I was so scared when I saw you fall. Are you hurt? I have a little bit of healing to give if you need some. Oh, thank the Ancestors for Deer! Please say you’re okay, Lyric. I know, I know... we need to hurry and rescue everyone but are you okay?”


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Lyric, needing a little encouragement

In the midst of the Chaos, Lyric thrived. She could think on many levels and at many angles. But even a Minstrel from Kethy's Woods had her limits of what she could keep track of and control. Well, if by throw balls into the air, catch what could be caught, and admire the way the rest of them bounced about as if that was the best understanding of Order to be had, then yes there were limits. Or something like that.

So she pulled the magic out of the forged blood-metal and spared a moment to consider what must come next.

Already, Lockpick was doing her thing and the Weasels wanted to know what that thing was. Croga had left her side...

And that meant that.... Oompff.

That probably wasn't that actual sound she made when she was blindside tackled by the Deer just in time before the heavy grate hit her from above and crushed her or, at the very least, gravely injured her.

"Yes, get out of the way," she mused in an absent and drawn voice as though she were simply a witness and not an actual participant. "That's what comes next."

Slowly she turned her head to face her protector. She reached up to touch his face with three fingers.

"Cosantóir," she said with a smile, as though there was nothing else happening around them. Had she just named the Deer as 'Protector' (Kosan-tor)

Croga had called down and Lyric heard her.

But many things were happening, including the sudden arrival of Friend Keiko. She shifted her attention to the Rhoni while still touching the deer's cheek with her fingers.

Lyric's eyes were bright and just a little wild. Their surface was wet and reflective, like a glassy lake after a storm. Somewhere in the depths was the naively innocent and awe-filled girl that Keiko first met. And there was also that sage and wise old soul. But something else, not before seen by the Rhoni girl, could be seen like a backdrop or a canvas for all of who she truly was... Reckless Abandon, barely held in check.

"Oh Friend Keiko... I have missed you and I worried for you. I have done my best but time in the Now is slipping by too quickly. But know that I am Okay, but I am also hurt... If I can be both in the ways you worded your questions."

She shrugged and shook her head as she started to get back up. But Keiko held her fast in a strong embrace. Already a part of her mind was trying to process the moment.

But Lyric relaxed a moment to absorb her heart's intention. It was a type of energy she needed greatly. Alas, Time was a cruel master...

"But, the Weasel paid for his bite, my friend... Some of this is my blood, and some the Weasel's... When the grates are opened fully and everyone is on the way up... Then we can worry about me... Yes?"

She scanned the room and saw the mass of Kinfolk. She also knew that the Pack would be falling back.

"Time is short now my friend... Croga is above and there are levers, more damn levers, and we need the right ones pulled to open these grates and maybe close other paths."

"I can not read or write," she admitted. Now that was an odd thing for a Bard or Minstrel, to be illiterate.

"Maybe my task is done here. And maybe I can help the Pack hold off the Dwarves a moment longer... You must get them moving up my friend... The planning is done now. It is time for the doing."

She started to get up again.

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Keiko

“Croga? Oh! Littlest has a Name! Yes, I’ve already bellowed for Dommi to come read what must be read, for I can read nothing but the Cards.”

She shrugged. Not reading and not writing didn’t seem strange to the Rhoni, even if Lyric was a minstrel. She never thought about the skill as something necessary for making music and singing marvelous songs. One learned a thing by learning it, not by interpreting funny squiggles on parchment or hide.

“It never seemed a useful skill before this... I might change my mind.” Holding out a hand as she jumped up, she offered assistance to her friend. “He’s a learned scamp, though I think we must hope that the markings are those of men and not dwarves unless they share a language.”

Keiko eyed Lyric for a moment, a mischievous smile on her face, before looking up at the grates.

“Mice and Rats and Raccoons, Card Readers, Minstrels, and silly men who can read but lose their boot... all of these should have little trouble clamoring up to the next level,” she murmured. “The larger Folks, though? Horses and Deer and Wuffs? Hmm. Well, I have seen the Wuffs move. Perhaps it is only the Horses and Deer who might need help.”

Cognizant of the currents and waves, Keiko looked from the grate on the floor to those above.

“Leave one end of a grate attached up there? The Raccoons are frightfully clever, the Deer and Horses very powerful. Can they fashion a ramp? Yes, likely. But before the next wave crashes over us? That would be a question to which I have no answer.”

She bit her lip as she looked back at the Pack fighting on the stairs, then at the stragglers coming in through the door.

“Littlest Croga has the writing up there,” she said to Dommi, pointing to the space where the grate had been.

“Weasels are weasels, and even my skill is no match for their sneaky wickedness. They move too fast. Dwarves? Do they wear armor? I would guess they do but have yet to see one. Truthfully, I would be happy if the Pack killed them all, a sentiment that might horrify my mother. I did learn how the armor of men is attached and think perhaps — if things become that dire — I might be able to slice the back of the knee. But it’s not a proper Dance and risky.”

She looked at Lyric. “If it helps more survive...” Then Keiko shrugged and glanced back at the grate in the ceiling. “Can you sing only half of it down? Or is Minstrel Magic not so precise? I know you will do your best, Lyric, and we will manage. Perhaps the Horses and Deer would prefer not to be tossed by the Rats, but if that is the way of survival and freedom, I will begin calming them before they must fly. Hmm. Perhaps I will have to prove it safe by flying myself.”

Keiko shrugged and grinned as she looked once more at her friend. “Maybe it’s as fun as traveling with Dommi!”


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Lyric, a Minstrel Mage... or not

The waifish girl pushed a tangled mess of blood matted hair from her face as she followed Keiko's attention to the overhead grates. It had cost her some considerable magic to do what she had done already.

"Maybe, Friend Keiko. My magic strength is waning... I know I simply do not have enough left to open more than another grille. That I can feel."

She returned her attention to her friend. It was very nice to have a friend, especially in dire circumstances.

"You see, Dark Steel's greatest strength is also it's greatest weakness. It is very susceptible to magic, if you can manipulate magical forces... conjure these forces and weave them... Then you can turn it from enemy to ally. But it takes a lot of strength to do these manipulations... and time. A lot of time."

Lyric paused for the span of a breath and thought.

"It was easier to bleed the magic away and so that is what I did... here, and at the big door that connected the forges to the mines."

"Maybe I could do one more grille opening, but it still wouldn't be enough to get everyone out. I sent Croga up because the next answer was ahead of us and now she has found it... We must figure it out and open all the grates... and maybe close other things. I do not know what Brave One sees."

"But this part is yours Friend Keiko. When we open those grates fully, you must lead the kin to safety. Lead them to Home. Soon the water will come and there will be no candle marks left, as the saying goes."

Lyric looked back through the arch that led back to the 'Door Puzzle Room'. beyond it would be the room with the stairs that led to the evil dwarven forges, where the Pack fought.

"It might be that I can give you another 'Candle Mark' with the Magic I have left..."

Lyric brought her attention back to her friend sharply, as though a sudden resolve had come over her.

"I created this plan and I ran with the Pack. It was the right thing. Perhaps it is also the right thing and proper too that I finish this with them as well."

She leaned forward and kissed the Rhoni girl on the lips, framing Keiko's face with her hands.

"This is not the End, nor is it a farewell. I will see you again... soon. That is my promise. Now go, fulfill your promise and save these people."

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Keiko

The Rhoni nodded, looking at the remaining grates. “I will trust your judgment on such things. You have a skill I do not possess and surely understand it better than I ever could.”

She turned to face Lyric again. “And we will trust Dommi to make some sense of the marking Croga sees.”

Before Keiko could respond to Lyric’s entreaty and her proclamation, she was surprised by the kiss.

As was so often the case, with the introduction of a thing — in this case, surprise — its opposite also came into existence. Surprise and not-surprise balanced and gave way to acceptance. Keiko had said it herself: Lyric was Lyric was Lyric. She was, as the violet-eyed lass was discovering, a minstrel who fought alongside Wuffs and who sang the magic out of Darksteel and who saw simple gestures and intimacies differently than most. What an interesting place Kethy’s Wood must be!

She nodded to her friend. “Don’t die,” she said with a hint of a smile. “There are many journeys yet to make while walking this world, my friend. It would please me to walk this world with you during some of those journeys.”

Lyric would do what she believed best; as she had said it was now time for the Rhoni to do what she could to reassure the Forest Folk they were attempting to rescue.

As she turned toward the collection of miners — former miners! — she smiled at Tomomi who seemed to be explaining something to those around her with animated gestures and twitching whiskers as she smiled.

Keiko called back to Lyric over her shoulder, “I hope you’re using one of Uncle Vadik’s fat two-wick candles and not one of those skinny ones that are so popular in Trundle!”

Lyric was helping the Pack. Dommi was helping Croga. Her job now... She nodded to herself and smiled. Tomomi’s happiness was a wave to encourage. As she circulated among the Forest Folk, she remarked on the positive things she noticed.

The exceptional skill of the Raccoon who had stitched the Dragon’s muscles...

The protectiveness of so many for others in their self-made family...

The steadfast calm of the Horses... while more softly remarking, then they tried to deny it, “Hiding your own fear is helping the smaller ones, and you hide your fear better than I hide mine, I think.”

Thanking the Deer profusely for saving her friend.

And finally making her way around to Tomomi again to hug her.

“Did my Forever Friend tell you how she was very silly and worried because she believed I would think she was not beautiful because I’m a Human critter and she is a Mouse?” Keiko chuckled. “My goodness, I have seen many wondrous things in my short life. Learning that some of my friends were Mouse persons and Wuff persons and Fox persons and Rat persons and then meeting Raccoon persons and Horse Persons and Deer persons... Well! I didn’t think my life could possibly get more interesting until Lady Bekkah asked her Goddess to heal all the Forest Folk. Now the Gods and Goddesses can see you and bless you, which I think is so lovely.”

“Even the Lockpick?” Tomomi asked.

“Even her, yes. Of course! I think she might be even more mischievous than Dommi, but if it makes her Lady smile and laugh...” The Rhoni shrugged. “Don’t the Deities deserve to be happy, too?”

Mostly, Keiko’s intent was just to hold their attention, which wasn’t necessarily that easy with the fighting going across the space in the stairway. She trusted Dommi. She trusted Emmi. She trusted Lyric. She trusted those still above holding the attention of the Men, and those waiting to flood the mines.

“Now, there really isn’t a way to explain Home except to say it’s a place so unlike this place that you will need to see it. I could not have imagined its loveliness, and I have seen so many beautiful things in the world. Oh, don’t mind the Wuffs. They get growly when they’re fighting. And sometimes when they’re playing. It’s something Wuffs do, I suppose. Oh, oh! But at Home, you will see how wonderful and kind and generous and loving Soft is. Yes! A Wuff who is all those things! And then there are Lady and Renyard... she is peacefulness in a Fox person form, he is so wise that I think he is even wiser than some of my Elders. And my Elders are very, very wise!

“And did I hear Tomomi trying to explain the Market? That is certainly something that is hard to imagine, isn’t it? Tomomi makes beautiful lace to trade for other things. Some folks have little bits of metal — no, no, not the Dragon’s Blood metal — that we call coins and exchange those for other things. Lady is very good at teaching the Little Ones how to trade.”

On and on she could go, talking about the strange things in the outside world, making them seem as interesting and delightful as possible until the grates above were opened and the Forest Folk could escape.


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Lyric, a Purposeful Minstrel

"Dying would be inconvenient," she replied and winked. "I will take care though."

Lyric slipped past her Rhoni friend to make her way back through the large dark steel and stone doors that would take her to the room with the stair, and to the Pack.

Keiko called out to her, about fat candles and skinny candles. Lyric wheeled around, walking backwards, as she tried to decipher what skinny candles in Trundle meant. She really didn't know what her friend was talking about though, so she smiled, shrugged, nodded and shook her head, all in some less than linear succession. She hoped that whatever the proper answer was, she had offered in return.

Just a couple of steps backwards and then she turned around again, steeling her emotions for what she might find and for what she might have to do. She looked for a couple of objects along the way. Dark steel would be best, like a two rods or levers or poles... or two shields maybe. But, if nothing presented itself as useful, she had her swords tucked away at her back and would make that decision as soon as she determined the situation with the Pack.

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The Heartwood
Loch Faast Keep
To the Mines
Attaday, the Eighth Day of Yrick


Lyric and Keiko … with Dominic, Tomomi, One Fang, a vanguard of Rats, Raccoons and Deer, and all the No-Longer-Miners

“You do realize that I was the bane of my penmanship tutor, right?”

Dominic paused and tilted his head.

“Wait. No. Of course you didn’t.”

He started towards the other room, heading where the vanguard was and where their Mouse had disappeared. The crossing was less confusing than it could have been; with only Lyric moving towards the battle and the rest moving into the living quarters and the way upwards. Thus it was more like a flood in one direction than two streams unexpectedly crossing. Dominic was always sharp of hearing - too many years spent eavesdropping atop Talantal’s various eaves – and a snippet of conversation caught his attention.

“Littlest One? Oh! Her I know!”

Beneath a swirl of his cloak, Dominic disappeared. A little later, from the shadows above the grate came a very, very startled squeak. Then followed a second, much more sharp exclamation.

“My TAIL!”

That was, in turn, followed by a sudden and equally swift response.

“Opps. Sorry!”

By now the open hall was filled with Forest Kin. The room was more than full, stuffed to the point that Keiko definitely was feeling squished as she spoke about Home and the outside world. It didn’t matter much, exactly what she said, as long as she kept talking. The distraction kept the once-Tools from panicking especially after Cosantoir pulled the Rhoni lass to the top of a stone table. This let everyone still see her and it was much less crowded.

And then, with a whunk, latch bolts were retracted and the other two big circular grates swung down and open. Somewhere above them knowledge of writing was more than a Noble’s vanity.

“I got three levers that say they can lower gates too!”

The question, though, was just where were those gates. There were the two that would close off the entrance to the living quarters. But the third, that was a very different question.

If there was a question on how to get from the floor to the above grate space, it was one that could be answered by Rats. And moving things was what they were good at. Between the Rats and the larger kin the Forest Folk could move upwards, into the overseer’s realm.

When she was lifted up, Keiko could see this part of the keep. It was not a pleasant sight as it felt more like a prison than a place where folks would live. From the grated floor one could look down into all of the Forest Folk quarters. Off to one side, where it could not be seen, Dominic and Croga were investigating the dwarven machinery. Chilling were three levers next to three open cage front doors – those were probably the Weasel kennels. There were stacks of barrels along the opposite wall, full of hardtack, water and ragged leather, obviously the rations for the miners and what little things they were allowed so they could work the mines and not walk around unclothed.

There was only one exit from this place; a tall arched passage leading into the Keep proper. This portal must be how the overseers came to do their work. It was also the way that The Lockpick must have run; or, at the least, began her run. Looking down the passage both sides were set with locked metal doors with small windows. It ended in a larger room, with two doors and a central black metal spiral stair leading upwards.

It was the first step on the way out, all the Forest Folk needed was someone to lead them.

Cut in the ceiling were two long narrow slots; perhaps a foot wide and fifteen feet long. A steady breeze blew down one of them; the air was cool and fresh. The second was still, no breeze, but every now and then bits of black fur would drift down from above.

For Lyric, things were much different.

She entered the vestibule space.

One Fang was focused. There were a scattering of quarrels at his feet. The big wolf was down to his last few. He had moved down three steps; so he could stand above one fallen. The minstrel could not help but remember the Forest Folk’s dark whisper.

Quote:
“Is it still breathing?”


It was not hard to recognize the bloodied form that One Fang protected. Fur and coat slick, it was Soft; their vanguard, their point. That the dark archer held that place was a desperate but good sign that the new Priestess was still alive. Every so often her twisted figure would convulse, another good, but desperate sign. The mischievous one, Flower, was trying to drag himself back into the fray, but the huge gash in his side kept him collapsed and he could only pull himself along the vestibule wall.

And a look down the stairs themselves was not a pretty sight. Of course the bottom steps were held by two black demons, Broke and Wrath keeping the deadly Forgemasters at bay. The reason why Flower was trying to get back was obvious; his companion, the white wuff, was being pushed back, unable to hold his ground. Out on the forge floor there was a midnight blur; that must be Wuff-Wuff, but the unspeaking guardian was running out of places to run and was very definitely being herded.

The only chance that Wuff-Wuff had was that when some Dwarf got close, that dwarf tended to lose his head, sent from this place to meet Krysta’s justice.

Behind her the vestibule was emptying; the Forest Folk and Miners were making their escape.

And every time she counted the Pack, Lyric kept on coming up two short.


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Lyric, an honorary member of the Pack... maybe


Back into the vestibule room, through that cursed door that divided the horrors of the flesh-forge from those poor creatures that had been broken and remade and broken again, over and over until they had become something new...

Back into the vestibule room, where the Pack had made their stand knowing the sacrifice they might be called upon to make so that others might live just one breath in fresh air, under the light of She Who Crosses the Sky...

Back into the vestibule room, where the Evil Dwarves fought their way forward, pushing at the Wuffs to break their ranks, to break their Pack...

It was Chaos... One Fang stood over a fallen Wuff. It was Soft, the Den Mother who had taken Lyric on a walk in the dark forest, said so little and yet imparted so much. Lyric's heart was gripped in anxiety, as a panic tried to engulf her sense of self.

But Chaos was natural to Lyric.

Moving that direction, Lyric took to a run. She took in the whole room, the battle, the injured, the missing... and those struggling to stay alive while they did the task they had been given.

The task Lyric had given them.

And so, it was right, and it was proper that she join them now. This was her plan and she would sacrifice no one without a fight. She would not yield a single friend without having stood in their midst and fought at their side.

She saw Flower clawing his way along a wall, wanting to get back into the fight, but too gravely injured to do little more than drag himself along.

She saw Wuff-Wuff being herded... separated from the Pack. Four Dwarves... that was a concentrated strategy. Emmi was harrying them and that confirmed that whatever the Dwarves were doing, it was important they break the pack apart. In a way, the other Dwarves were probably containing their opponents to let the four hunt Wuff-Wuff down.

Broke and Wrath fighting three but unable to break free either. Snow engaged by two, and two of the Pack, Left and Right were being pinned by one. Tawny and grey were missing and that ache in Lyric's heart flared again. But there was no way to know their fate. Maybe they were injured but out of sight. Lyric couldn't afford to let her emotions rule in this moment. She had to ride the Chaos. Her strategic mind absorbed the scene, drawing conclusions, and creating her own plans and counters.

Reaching Soft, she dropped to her knees in a near slide for the last foot or two. She looked up at One Fang, and sidelong to the bulk of the battle. Then to Soft. Her hands raked the woman's fur from her cheek to her rough and over a shoulder. Soft was breathing, but injured. She was alive though. But unconscious... Lyric understood... She had used all her magic, more than she could give and...

"We will get you Home, Priestess... On my life, this I promise."

From somewhere distant, beyond the forge, down that hall... far for the moment, but coming closer, Lyric could hear an ominous and foreboding sound. She didn't know what it was, but it sounded like stone on stone, rhythmic. Lyric understood rhythm. Two beats in double time... Like something large walking this way. Two somethings... Would this be the stone statues that Lockpick had led away?

She growled as she steeled herself for a decision she knew she would have to make at some point, from as far back as the boat ride to the lake. Maybe even as far back as the planning itself. And definitely from the moment she gave over the responsibility for rescue of the miners to Keiko. In some ways, each of those moments were all the same point in time, equally meaningless, separated by heartbeats and breaths, and held fast by the choice itself.

Quickly, she reached up to One Fangs belt and 'lifted' his long knife.

"I need this," she said matter-of-factly. She did the same with Soft's long knife, even telling she was doesn't as well. Those two blades were slipped into her boots and Lyric was already up on her feet again, speaking to the archer as cut around behind him to head for flower.

"Get ready to pull her to the other room..."

In a dead sprint, she ran for Flower. Reaching him she told him she needed his blades... and with a glance to the fight, she also told him she was going to cut his armor away because she needed that too.

"You have fought with courage, but now you must get help. I will take up your place... Be strong and live... Don't you dare die."

Lyric used his knife to cut the ties and straps to the greaves and vambraces, stacking them atop each other so she could carry them into the fight.

Oh, this was a crazy plan... so dangerous... But what the Pack needed now was something crazy and dangerous and sudden. The fact that it might break a rule given to her by her master was entertained for a brief moment, the blink of an eye, nothing more.

For what good is a journey to find a 'Song' to help your people if you didn't help those you meet along the way. Perhaps this was the meaning... to learn what it meant to believe in something greater than yourself, to give something more than you can afford, do something more meaningful than you can imagine, and accept the costs and consequences that came with breaking the rules. Maybe, just maybe, trust that the universe could balance itself between Chaos and Order without her worrying about it for a moment and just be who she was meant to be... More than she was meant to be.

She had her own two swords and a knife, a number of pieces of Dark Steel: knives from Soft and One Fang, and a knife, a sword, and four pieces of armor from Flower.

She turned to the battle, twisting her head to scream out as loudly as she could, "Wuffs are down, Wuffs are down... We need help!"

That scream hurt her throat but it was necessary to bring a few to help the wounded.

Then, with her stack of armor in her hands, and her other weapons stashed, Lyric took a breath and sprinted for Wuff-Wuff. As is true in a dance, the music drove the rhythm and pace. Lyric had a song playing in her head. She would dance...

She had enough arcane strength left to cast her deadliest magic and so she did...



(Continued in Private- You'll just have to hear about it later when the stories are told)








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OOC: Wolf- maybe your message of the return of the Pack should go here? This was the last thread we used and Keiko is connected to this one already

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[[OOC: do you both want it here?}}

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Quote:
The Heartwood
Loch Faast Keep
To the Mines
Attaday, the Eighth Day of Yrick


Lyric and the Pack returning …

Wuff-Wuff was the first through the broken vestibule doors, to rush through and pause for but a second to determine where the others were. The Others – One Fang with an unconscious Soft under one arm, at the arched entrance to the living quarters, having only closed that distance as he was also helping drag Flower away from the Forge.

Following the one-word wuff were Snow, Left, Right and Lyric.

Next was Wrath and last was Broke. When they were through the door Left and Right shouldered it closed. Not that it would hold for long as its latching mechanism was rusted.

When the Pack and the Minstrel was able to pass through the arched opening they entered the empting eating area. But that did not mean they were alone; above them, paused on the overseer’s level, were the rest of the Forest Folk and most probably Croga, Dominic, Keiko and Tomomi too.




Lyric, Wayward no more.

The Minstrel passed by Broke and Wrath in the vestibule. Her face was a changing mix of emotions as a more steely expression took hold once again. That softer, intimate soul was once again submerged to the needs of the tasks before her.

Somewhere else, nearby, not necessarily in the exactness of Now. Conversations that bear the fruit of action had to have been had. The figuring of levers between the readers of language and those eager to please and help and those eager to find this new hope of freedom. A calm and collected sort of person, one who might see and sense the tides and currents and waves, these metaphors for the forces of the universe that moved in otherwise unseen ways, was certainly at the center of it all. Despite personal doubts and misgivings, this person would have to be possessed of a remarkable store of untapped resolve in order to manage such a scene that Lyric returned to find.

A Horse of extraordinary bravery was ushering his fellow kin, all former slaves, to organize, remain calm and start moving. And the Minstrel felt a small relief. Enough so that she could finish the things she must among the Pack, those still committing themselves to picking the spot in which they would die if necessary.

To the Pack, "Help your injured up and out and lead the new freed kin to the surface... There's little point trying to hold a door against Giants and Dwarves who bend stone with magic. The Gates will be where we slow them."

She continued to the living quarters, looking up through the grates to the overseer's level.

Up there on that level decisions would have to be made, outside the direction of Keiko or Lyric. They knew the task. Decipher the writing and locate the levers that aided this effort. Man, Mouse, and Rat. There was nothing the Rhoni lass could have done to further that now. The currents seemed to carry her attention, and the need for it, elsewhere.

The Minstrel, settling her emotions beyond the reach of her mercurial self, observed her friend across the Living Quarters as the Rhoni was checking the 'edges', or rather the places where the waters might 'eddy' and lie still to make sure that nothing was unaccounted for. To Lyric's tactical mind, this is what it appeared to be, and it was one more thing Lyric was grateful for because it meant she need not worry about doing it herself. It allowed her to reassert a voice of command. Not just to those whose fears of change might otherwise freeze them, but also to those with who first heard her plans back at Home and might question their own resolve in this moment. She sought to bolster everyone within the sound of her voice.

"LISTEN UP," she screamed in a voice trained for projection. "Do Not Falter. Do Not Waver. We did not come here in idle escapade without plan and purpose. Trust the Plan. Trust me now. Have courage. Have resolve. We are almost HOME!"

"We need to be going up... NOW!"

She didn't need to start a panic by telling them all that the Dwarves would be returning with weasels and magical stone giants at their command, nor would she mention her counter for that was a flood of water pouring in from the lake above that would surely create a lot of Chaos for the Dwarves and force them to re-evaluate their immediate priorities. Yeah, that same Chaos could undo everything right now.

"Dommi... If you're up there? Croga? I need these gates down," she said while pointing behind her to the narrow hall that connected the living quarters to the room with the heavy stone doors to the Mines and the Forges.

"Get those down... we will have a little time then... But anyone who can lead, must lead.... UP... UP!"

I will lose no else this day

And with that Lyric realized the she stood face to face with Keiko, who must have seen her, worried about her, and came to her. She offered her friend a crooked smile, lopsided and toothy on one side but with eyes bearing equal measures of intensity and merriment. If they were windows to a soul, Keiko might one day learn to use them to measure the mixture of Lyrics personality.

"I am well enough, my friend." She whispered in the closeness of an embrace. "And there is no time now for healing. Yes, I know your concern. The Pack can move, and carry those that need help. But more Dwarves are coming. I can hear them in the Deep."

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The Heartwood
Loch Faast Keep
To the Mines
Attaday, the Eighth Day of Yrick


Lyric and Keiko … with Dominic, Tomomi, Croga, the Pack, a vanguard of Rats, Raccoons and Deer, and all the No-Longer-Miners

“You know My Dear and Capricious Lady …”

The words were spoken drolly, deadpan, and almost contemplatively. A contemplative Lordling spoke them to another Mouse. Not his Mouse and most certainly not the Mouse he, in return, belonged to. They stood in an eddy, a pocket of the maelstrom, a swirl of not-yet-free miners who had no idea what to do next, threatening to shatter into half a dozen different panicked directions against the wrath of those who would punish them, recycle them, show them what happened to bad tools who didn’t do what they were supposed to do.

The only thing keeping that at bay, the only thing that kept them tied together, were the bright ribbons splashed about a wrist, making a ponytail of unkempt hair or worn like rakish bandana.

A Real Person, a Rhoni lass, had made them a promise.

“… even You have to admit that playing with that haughty Hastur ….”

Dominic’s odd monologue continued and for Lyric it was as if it set a beat, as sure as the progression of measures in a song. It was like a predictable melody. It bought them time, time for the Pack to move through that short length of hallway. They moved faster now; Wrath was huge and one could readily believe he could even run with Flower and Soft slung beneath his massive arms. Broke’s job was to pull the last through the short passage and then – both paws placed on their backs – push them forward and upwards.

It was Wuff-Wuff that sprinted forward, moving through the crowded Forest Folk like a dancer. You could hear the silence that she brought with her, because for these Kin a Wuff was not just a Wuff. A Wuff was a mythical beast, a critter of legends.

Her passage bought that perfect moment of silence for the Minstrel to sing out her command.

That was the other thing that bound the Keep Folk together.

They were tools.

They excelled at taking orders.

“ … was pretty bloody funny.”

In that dark corner it took both Mouse and Man to pull two marked levers. They creaked loudly, a slow slow sound that seemed to take forever. Perhaps it was best that no one else was with Croga and Dominic because they would have seen that the final levers chosen were done with eyes tightly shut.

Within the stone there was a clanking, a rumbling, as unseen chains drew darksteel gears round and round. And somewhere, somewhere else Someone must have been smiling because the twin portcullis did indeed lower, properly and correctly, barring the passage between the Flesh Forge and escape.

Wuff-Wuff took the lead. Very much like a teamster leading a mule with an apple hanging in front of said mule’s nose, she showed them the way by wrapping one hand about a girl-rat’s brightly bound wrist to drag her with. Master Horse also heard the orders given and letting ancient, natural instincts help he began to guide his kin forward, forward down the odd door lined corridor to the stairs.

They were good at following once they had direction. In some ways that realization hurt, cut straight to the heart, that the stream of slaves stumbling up the stairs like a backwards creek somehow flowing uphill was just as much due to the submission beaten into them as the promise of rescue and freedom ahead.

Past the doors with their little windows, up the stairs, up and up and up they went.

Lyric had her goal, her task, to keep the Forest Folk moving up the stairs. And they did. Climbing higher and higher and higher. Keiko had another task as she headed down that first corridor. There were doors with windows.

They were a piece of history.

The windows opened outwards, with a sliding bolt for a latch. The first two she opened were empty. Keiko would look first then Tomomi would confirm, reaching up and putting both small hands on the tiny sill so she could pull herself up and peek inside. Sometime’s she’d look first.

Each was a small prison well. With just a stone bunk for sleeping and hole in the corner.

The third door, that brought a gasp from the Forever Friend.

Scratched into the back wall, obviously done over time and by brutal hand, was a single word. It was a name.

Broke.

That was right. The Wuffs had been forged not to work the mines but to be the overseers.

It didn’t work.

What else didn’t work was discovered at the second to last door.

“SQUEAK!”

Tomomi literally jumped backwards and that was the only thing that kept her from being caught and strangled as – for a heartbeat only – a huge arm and taloned hand slashed out of the window. A feral face then immediately replaced it.

A feline feral face.

It was large, rivaling Wrath and it might have been a Softpad once but its coloring was all wrong. It wasn’t tawny with green stripes but instead a light grey with stripes of white. It grumbled. It growled.

“Dammit. Stupid Mouse. Don’t want Mouse. Master better. Past lunch. Master would be good. Past breakfast. Past dinner. Hungry.”

It was disappointed.

“Even Master good.”

There was a moment of silence.

“Not as tasty as mice, much tougher, but much, much, much, much more satisfying.”

Whether or not it would be safe to open that door was most definitely a most serious question to be considered.

The stair spiraled upwards, the way lead by a black Wuff and scouted by the Littlest Mouse. As best they could tell it was a straight rise all the way up to the top of the Keep.

It was a clear path out.

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Lyric, the Minstrel who couldn't tell time was on the the clock...

Whatever had been said between the Rhoni and the Minstrel, was short and private. It would also remain that way for now.

The wandering performer, who not that long ago walked blithely ignorant along a dangerous cart road all too close to and cursed forest, was now weighed down heavily with the burden of being a 'Commander'. She had created a plan and executed it as best she could. She had directed comrades and allies, and now the rag-tag procession of those who had been freed but not yet tasted freedom, as though they were all pieces of a game. That this was a part of her that she was least pleased with was an irony not lost upon her. What she found most distasteful about who she was was the very thing that was needed. All along she knew the consequential emotions would bear upon her like hammer upon anvil, each strike adding to the sum total.

But, this wasn't a game. This was real. Real lives and real deaths. real consequences. And her emotions were just as real as well. She knew that there would be loss and she also knew she wouldn't be able to prepare herself fully either. She was not one to carry a mantle or facade of casual indifference. Nor could she ever justify the gains against the losses. It simply was not within her to be that person.

Maybe that was a part of what made her so odd among her own people, in her own village, and in her own clan... Every life lost was a failure, and no matter how many survived at the end of the day, every one who did not, and every comrade or ally who fell because her plan was not perfect would be a scar upon her own soul.

She tried wanly, but with as much cheer as she could manage, to those she ushered and urged to keep moving forward and upward. She kept to the rear of the cavalcade now because it was there that the least bold would find themselves. Perhaps the weakest in body as well. The broken or elderly(who had not been thrown away by their makes yet) might find themselves in the back. They were the ones that needed the most encouragement. It would also be the place where an enemy would first meet them in pursuit.

But more importantly, it was how Lyric would know she had not lost anyone else nor let anyone fall behind.

"Come GreyFace," she said with an outstretched hand and a smile to match sad and compassionate eyes. "Ten Thousand Stars in the Heavens are waiting for you to see them. And She who crosses the Sky wants to warm you come the break of day. Home is waiting for you now and I will see you to there..."

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Keiko
[pronounced KAY-ko]

When Keiko knew that Lyric was alive and relatively well; after she had cheerfully played storyteller to the Forest Folk and started them on their way up toward freedom, she seemed to almost fold in on herself. She watched Dommi and Littlest Mouse as they worked the gate controls; she listened to Dominic speak to his Lady while giving the impression that he was talking to Littlest; she saw the Pack and Lyric moving up. Soft was hurt. Flower, too. So many of them. Too many. They were the warriors.

How strange. Keiko’s thoughts felt as though they came from somewhere far outside herself — not a good sign of anything, well, good. A Shadowlord found my antics amusing? That would please Uncle Toshi, I think.

Keiko watched Lyric for what felt like forever as the Minstrel helped the frightened, small, hurt, or otherwise slower not-Miners. She saw Dommi and Littlest — Crogra? Yes, Croga — drop the gates, stopping the Dwarves from following. She watched them join the others, the not-Miners with so many colorful ribbons on the stairs.

The Rhoni kept watch until the last of them passed her, then she followed with Tomomi at her side, looking with little interest into the empty rooms. She merely nodded when Tomomi pointed out the scratches on the wall of one cell that represented Broke’s name. She’d remember the marks, of course. But even knowing that Broke had escaped this place and thrived with her Pack outside the keep did little to keep the young woman from drowning in the undertow of waves.

The Cat’s appearance and Tomomi’s Mouse-like shriek, however, flung her from whatever malaise into which she had fallen. She blinked and stared at the Cat.

“You’re pretty. Maybe handsome if you prefer that, but we might argue over it. With words, not...” She pointed at the Cat’s talons. “...weapons. I Dance well with my daggers, but I’d rather not perform those Dances at all. As for food?”

Keiko shrugged.

“I don’t know if we’ll run into any of the Old Masters but I hope not. I will grant, of course, that they’re probably beyond worthy of being eaten. The Dwarves are locked behind the gates down there. There are some barrels of food back there.”

She pointed to the ramp and then the barrels in the corner. Then she slid her pack from her shoulders.

“Tomomi? Would you mind fetching some of the hardtack and filling my pack? Thank you, Friend. It’s better than nothing and hunger can certainly make a person cranky. Why you should see my Aunt Zazu when the Caravan goes an extra few miles for a better spot to camp for the night. You’d think she had skipped breakfast and lunch and dinner for days!”

She had been opening the door while chatting. She gestured in both directions — from whence they had come and to the stairs going up — as she regarded the Cat.

“You have choices, of course. Go back and snack on some Dwarves — though I suspect they weren’t completely beaten to ugly smears by the Pack; Flower and Soft didn’t look very good. Even Wrath looked hurt. You’ll have to figure the working of the gates for yourself because Dommi is already on his way upstairs. Besides, Cesare and his team are supposed to be flooding this whole place, so we need to get up, up, up so we don’t drown with the Old Masters. I feel like Mother would be distraught over the fact that I don’t mind at all that they’ll die.”

She shrugged again. “I suspect Mother would be unhappy about all of this, though. And I shan’t tell her either, assuming I ever get back to the Caravan. Oh, thank you, Friend Tomomi,” she said as her friend nearly filled her pack. She took a handful of the hardtack from the pack before closing and settling it once more on her shoulders under her cloak.

“Come along with us, lovely Cat, at least until we get out of here. I’m afraid there won’t be any eating of Mice or Rats or Deer or Horses or Raccoons or Human Persons. Just the hardtack — and perhaps an Old Master if we find one — until we can get back to Home.” Keiko handed the hardtack to the Cat. She idly wondered if the Cat was a female or a male, but decided it would be dreadfully rude to ask.

“I know. It’s not actually very good. At least I had some jerky as part of my trail rations. But if you can keep your weapons tucked away — Broke’s rule is No Fighting, it really is a good rule — we can get you a better meal at Home. But we need to hurry.” Keiko pointed toward the stairs again. “I don’t want to try to swim out of a flooding keep.”

She motioned the Cat to join her and Tomomi as they started toward the stairs. Tomomi checked the last cell — fortunately, it was empty, too.

“Oh. Right. Yes, sometimes I do talk a lot. Definitely when I’m scared. And I’ve been scared since I got here. But you aren’t the scariest person here. The Hastur might have been. Well... yes, I’d say so. And when I saw what the Old Masters were having everyone do to the Dragons...”

Although she kept walking, Keiko stopped talking and reached out for Tomomi’s hand. All the way to the base of the stairs and then up two, three, four of them, she was silent.

“And I get very quiet when I’m horribly sad, I’m afraid. They did terrible things, the Old Masters. To Dragons. That’s a... a...” She shook her head, momentarily at a loss for words. “It’s the worst possible thing, and what the Old Masters did to all of you is very nearly as awful. Thank you for startling me, by the way, though Tomomi might not have found it a pleasant experience. But it brought me back to here and now, and the very audacious plan we have to rescue all the Forest Folk and make sure the Old Masters can’t hurt anyone anymore. Not you folks. Not the Dragons.”

They caught up to Lyric, who was guarding the rear of the line of rescuers and not-Miners. She gave her friend a tired smile, a light touch on the shoulder — more than that, and Keiko felt as though she would fall back into whatever darkness had gripped her. She couldn’t afford to drown in the waves. She was a Waverider. Anything more for Lyric at the moment would be tempting the Fates. But later... oh, yes, later they would have much to share.

Keiko led Tomomi and Cat forward and upward. She didn’t need to reach the top of the stairway first; she merely needed to be among these brave beribboned Kin who had been willing to put their trust in small human person gifting them with vibrant ribbons.

“I’d be happy to give you a ribbon, too, if you’d like one, Person Cat,” she said, glancing back over her shoulder at the Cat. “When we are not so constrained with folks all around us, of course. I think Dommi found a silver one that would look most fetching with your coloring. Your gray and white fur is quite stunning. I’ve never seen anything like it.” She shrugged once more. “Well, I had never seen a Wuff excel at archery or met a Fox as wise as all the Elders or a Mouse who is so very brave and a such a valuable friend before coming to Waveriders Watch and visiting Home either. I do like learning new things!”

Somewhere ahead of them was a Nobleman walking among these not-Miners, heedless of the fact that he only had a single boot and a Dragon-bloody sock, no doubt already telling another of his outrageously impossible stories. Elsewhere, his beloved Emmi was warning the other teams. Behind her was a Warrior-Minstrel ensuring that no one was left behind.

Keiko managed a slight smile. “I like making new friends, too,” she whispered. If the Cat heard... Well, it didn’t much matter either way, really. The words were meant mostly for her Forever Friend at her side.


"Everything is bad except unicorns." -- Phoebe
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Wolf Offline OP
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The Heartwood
Loch Faast Keep
To the Mines
Attaday, the Eighth Day of Yrick


Lyric and Keiko … with Dominic, Tomomi, Croga, the Pack, a vanguard of Rats, Raccoons and Deer, the No-Longer-Miners … and a Cat

“I’m what?!?”

Eyes narrowed as they looked out the little barred window, whiskers twitching and ears flat. The big fierce feline Forest Folk made a very definite attempt to look fierce, dangerous and anything but cute. Indeed he was very successful at it.

But, admittedly, the attempt itself was very cute.

“Hardtack?”

That got a look for which there was no need of translation. It was understandable in any language what so ever. Yuck.

“Flower?”

The Cat blinked again, listening. At first it was patient listening, indeed even a bit curious.

“Weapon?”

He looked at his claws, a bit perplexed, before putting his big paws together and tapping his forefingers, as if he were waiting and waiting and waiting for Keiko to finish or at the least come to a conclusion.

“Talk lot?

“No. No.”

The last two words were spoken in very definite sarcastic tones. The Cat gave Keiko a look, one with a brow raised and ears still flat – not the angry kind of flat but the feline-running-out-of-patience kind of flat. Until he started, lifted his head a bit, and put his head closer to the bars.

“Broke?

“Wait.

“Broke?

“Say Broke? Say Broke not story Old Masters tell, stop me gutting them? All know wuffs mythical critt-it-it-it …”

Then he stopped, words caught in his throat, as it was Wrath’s turn to storm down the hall, right across Person Cat's line of sight, to the stairs and escape.

“Ha! I take wuff …”

His gaze shifted, looking to a slight commotion back towards the gates. Where he could just, barely, get a glimpse of Lyric, One-Fang and the Pack’s leader.

“Wait.

Gang of wuff?”

Whiskers twitched.

“Fine. No eating critter that talk back. Besides. Tried eat mouse? Look with big soft wide eyes. Make feel bad for being hungry. No fighting. Fine. Two things.”

The Cat gave Keiko a truly ferocious look as he made his demands for his release.

“All sunbeams mine.”

That was probably acceptable.

“And silver ribbon.”

He was very definitely a mercenary kind of Cat. And very definitely a he; wearing only rags similar to worn breeches, like many of the Forest Folk.

Then it was up the stairs. The Cat was a dubious addition to their collection of refugees – one could not quite figure out just what kind of good he might be. That is, whether having him be one of the last up would be good if they were pursued or that his very presence seemed to aid in the determination of those ahead of him to remain ahead of him.

Tomomi whispered to Keiko, as they followed Person Cat up the stairs.

"He is very silly."

Keiko and Tomomi were in the middle of the group, for the very same reason Lyric chose the back. To watch out and help those who were lower or hurt. There were no old, however. A hurt miner might have been given a day or so to recover, but it seemed, looking at their refugees, that the Dwarves either took care of their tools much like a master craftsman like or got rid of a broken, out of date tool with a draconic efficiency. So there wasn’t a Grey-Face that was old – in fact Person Cat was the closest they had to a true gray faced Forest Folk. But there were those who were covered with the grime of mining that came in all different shades of light and dark.

“How many is Ten Thousand?”

That was a question asked by the raccoon boy, after looking at his fingers and running out of them well before such a high count. He was slow, not for age but for a limp. Perhaps he survived because his stitching skills were rare and not needing speed to be still useful.

Lyric wasn’t the last out.

Two tarried at the entrance to the overseer’s corridor. In some ways it was kind of expected and not at all a surprise that it was Dominic and Broke. Seeing Dominic there was a bit disconcerting, because he had been at the front and now was at the back, leaned against a shadowed wall almost nonchalantly. Perhaps it was because someone else had stayed behind and he had noticed; the Lordling was there with Broke as if they were on some street corner awaiting the arrival of friends. With a smile Dominic met the Minstrel’s stern gaze with a backhanded wave of his hand. It was a very definite shoo-shoo motion.

Lyric was not even third to the last out, even at that. A strong hand took her shoulder, turned her towards the stairs and guided her forward. Of course it was One-Fang. His ears were perked for a second, he had a both concerned and almost – for the first time since they left Home – a fearfully worried look in his dark eyes. Like he had already figured out what was going on, perhaps because he had reached that point himself when fighting for his life in the stairs above.

“We …”

He looked back over his shoulder.

“We rrrrrrreally … rrrrrrreally don’t wannnnt to be herrrreee…”

So up the stairs they went, Lyric first and the big wuff following, watching her back. At the first doorway in the staircase he paused. He paused and his ears flattened.

The sound was something of legend, like the wail of a banshee with laryngitis. So it wasn’t a very good legend. It was out of tune. It had no sense of beat. If there was a melody it had been disowned by its family and the caterwauling did things to harmony that could not be spoken of in any company, let alone polite.

Everything made perfect sense now. This was exactly why Emerald Mouse let them toss Dominic and Broke out of the tree top commons hall. She didn’t even want to know why, in the middle of all this death and destruction, Broke and Dominic were singing.

… and there was Brown upside down
Suckin' up the whiskey on the floor.
"Booze, booze!" The firemen cried …
Til there came a great knockin' at the door ...


Just before – thankfully so – One Fang slammed the door shut behind them - Lyric could have sworn she had heard a pair of small hands clap twice.

Which was the traditional response to that line of the well known drinking song.

Last edited by Wolf; Sat 12/08/17 20:00 UTC.
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Lyric, a worn and weary Minstrel

The Minstrel could have remained in and near trance-like state. Her ushering and comforting and reassuring any whose faith and courage wavered in the mass of 'soon to be' new Forest Kin that struggled to move themselves through the narrow confines of their escape route. It would get narrower once they started upwards... and then, it would widen out as far as the east was from the west.

The dirty raccoon boy with the limp caught her off-guard with his question and she paused to look at him. She tilted her head and absorbed a likely story for who he was and how he had survived despite the odds and the evil that once controlled his existence. She could imagine that the threadbare clothes he wore and had so carefully mended over and over until the mending became it's own form of artwork. She saw beyond the fabric and to the essence of the spirit and soul that found a way to persevere despite limitations.

She began to weep. Mostly a welling a tears until one or two streamed her cheek as they obeyed gravity. To her, in this moment when she was questioning whether or not she had helped or hurt, in the taking of lives and those she had lost, and those who would not make it out, this... THIS was her answer.

"I do not know," replied with a trembling hand that mussed his furry, dirty face. She touched the ribbon tied about his wrist. His link to belonging to a promised new life.

"I have never had to count that high... But I do know this... it is not the number of Stars in the Sky you will soon see. For that number is Ten Thousand by Ten Thousand more... And it is not the number of the warming beams of golden light you feel upon your face when morning comes... No, for She Who Crosses the Sky has an infinite number of beams of light, beyond counting, and Her radiance can not be measured... So, I do not know... But why do you ask, Stitch?"

Had Lyric just named the boy? If she had, it made her feel a little bit of happiness. Just enough so to cut through her angst.


****

With the boy before her, like a personal ward or charge, Lyric allowed One-Fang to shepherd her back to the task at hand and that was to finish this escape and begin the journey to Home.


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Kel Offline
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Keiko
[pronounced KAY-ko]

“Yes, yes...” the Rhoni lass assured Person Cat. Wuffs are very real. Also...” She thought for a second. “All the silver ribbons I have — which may only be one, but might be two, or more — however, you have to share the sunbeams because sharing is what people do at Home. You can’t possibly use all of them at once, now can you? No, I doubt it very much. You’re certainly a Cat and I’ve seen cats aplenty stretching out to take up all the space in a single sunbeam, of course. But many sunbeams in different parts of Home? That would be an interesting trick to see, although perhaps seeing legs in one place and a head in another might be more than most of us would care to see.”

She paused and grinned at Person Cat. “Sarcasm looks good on you.”

A little later, she smiled at Tomomi and whispered back, “He is. I like him.”

As they neared Dommi and Broke, Keiko took Person Cat’s hand. “That’s Broke,” She whispered to him, pointing out the big Wuff. “And that’s Dommi, who has a suspiciously wicked look in his eyes. Well, I suspect he thinks he’s trying to go for a look of innocence, but he’s a follower of the Lady Trickster, so he has some sort of mischief in mind. For all that, of course, there isn’t a more loyal friend or nobler man you will ever meet.”

It was moments later, before the last of the rescuers and not-Miners could reach the top of the stairs, that the wailing started. Keiko winced.

“Oh, that must hurt your ears, Person Cat! I believe that’s what Broke and Dommi consider singing and it’s... it’s not.”

Still, the sound cut off soon enough and she thanked the Ancestors for that.


"Everything is bad except unicorns." -- Phoebe

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