Fuchsann wakes up, not in what she’d call a typical environment, but within majestically decorated stonewalls. Wherever it is fate has taken them, she doesn’t complain about the fine sheets she has been placed upon. She stretches and yawns, gets off the king-sized bed. It’s a bit disturbing that she is in such a nice place while she is covered in blood and mud that she has no idea where came from. “Hello?” she wanders the room with her eyes.
All seems a bit primitive. Stone walls, wooden furniture, royal-looking jewels and gowns. Weird…
The mighty wooden door opens a crack, then gently opens. An elderly man with a short beard cautiously enters the room, bearing a blue robe with symbols stitched sporadically. “H-hello?” she speaks. “You speak our tongue? How most fortunate…” the white-haired man says.
“Where am I?” “You have nothing to fear, child. This is Castle Hart, I am Johan D’Argyl, the royal cleric,” “Why am I here?” “I was hoping you had an answer to that question. For all I know we found you in the battlefield,” “Where are my friends?” “ I’m sorry, but you were the only one that the men found. Although… they have seen some spies scurry off with some bodies, but that may just as well have been fallen soldiers, it was night you see,”
Fuchsann fears the worst for her beloved.
“Why am I in such a room? I’m full of dirt,” “We didn’t dare to do anything with you… We have never seen anything like you…” “But still… Why such a royal room?” Johan slightly pauses. “Well… to be honest… We wish for you to rule us, as our queen…”
Fuchsann is mildly stunned by the thought. “B-but, eh, haven’t you got a king or queen?” “Sadly, no. They passed away 3 days ago, as did their son,”
“That’s terrible…” “Indeed…”
Fuchsann thinks a bit. “I’m not royal in any way, so why do you want me as queen?” “I have heard that a people down south has an angel to rule them, and he does them well,”
“I’m flattered by the offer,” she brushes a big flake of dirt off her thigh “but I’m not what you look for in a ruler…”
“Yes, I know how you feel,” Johan says “But all we actually need is an icon. Something beautiful, such as you, that gives our people something to fight for, and if unlucky, die for,”
Fuchsann sighs. “I’m not comfortable if anyone who dies for me isn’t one I fight alongside… Besides I don’t deserve a title like that!”
Johan feels he has lost. “Alright. But if it makes you feel any better there’s a tournament running right now. The one who stands on top of the ranking list at… sundown today, will become the next in line for the throne.”
“Fine then. I see what your getting at,” Fuchsann sighs “I’ll… give that tournament-thingy a try then. Hmm? I’ll show you that I’m the one least capable of being queen,”
Johan smiles and walks toward the door. “I’ll have one of the servants come clean you up, maybe get you some arms too,”
“I’m fine with the two I already have…” she says.
“How’s it hangin’?” “Either you stop asking me that or I’ll let you “hang out” there until they come to finish us off! Ok?!” Snowen busily tries getting his boots aligned. “Well, hang in there,” Falcon says suspended from the ceiling. “You’ll get it,” “Either you quit saying “hang”…”
A small metal spike flies out of Snowen’s heel, he manages to catch it with his teeth. “…oh whee wih shee hoo dosh aw de hanginjh!”
Snowen raises himself so his mouth reaches up to one shackle, then he starts using the spike on the lock. Falcon looks at Snowen as he maneuvers the spike with his tongue. Snowen lowers himself again.
“So…” Falcon starts “How’s it vertically suspended?”
“So what’s this I heard about a war, Rowan?” Fuchsann asks while she dries herself off. “I’m not sure, milady. I know that many have died, but not for what cause,” the young maid shares. “Uhm, where did you put my clothes?”
“They were all a mess, milady, so I threw them out,” “My boyfriend gave me that shirt…” Fuchsann sort of mumbles in a sad tone. “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…” “No, no…no… don’t worry, it’s okay. And please stop calling me “milady”. You are no less worth than me.”
Rowan’s look on Fuchsann seriously changes “As you wish, milay… oh,” she smiles.
“I’m pretty sure whatever you have to offer is as good as anything,” Fuchsann smiles back. She’s handed a chastity-belt by the child. She holds it up and looks at it, slightly unnerved. Anyway, she puts it on. The feel of the cold steel makes the fur on her tail stand. “Our smith made this specially for you, while you were asleep. He was one of those who found you in the battlefield you know…”
Fuchsann nods and makes a pathetic attempt at smiling, the strange steel garment has the full attention of her facial muscles. Rowan helps her get it on, and locks it in the front. “Keep this around your neck,” she says and hands Fuchsann the key. “What next?” Fuchsann asks while tying a silk thread, with a key, around her neck “Rock shoes, perhaps?” she laughs.
Rowan giggles. “No, we couldn’t find any your size…” she smiles.
Rowan touches Fuchsann’s chastity-belt and whispers some strange words.
The tips of her fingers sheds light on the steel, giving Fuchsann a tingling feeling. “What are you doing?” Rowan just winks at her. “Do you want some armor now, or shall I get you a dress?”
“It’s useless…” Snowen sighs “I just can’t pick this lock! It’s too damn old for me!” “Could’ve been worse…” Falcon says. “What the hell did you do to those poodles that were all over me?” Snowen suddenly asks. Falcon thinks “Froze them…?” “And HOW did you do that?” “I pointed my hand at them…? Oh…” A light goes on in Falcon’s head.
“I told you, you should have worn a robe…” Rowan says as the smith averts his eyes from Fuchsann. “All those other guys we passed would surely have said something else,” Fuchsann smiles.
“I… uh… Can I… uh… help you?” the smith says from under his mighty mustache. “She’s going to fight in the tournament, uncle Joe,” Rowan informs. “Well, then it’s a good thing you stopped by… I make the breast… I-I mean the best arms in this area,” the smith says from under his mighty arm.
Rowan unties her apron, “Does all men always become silly when they see you?” she gives it to Fuchsann.
Though small, it covers her chest. “Not necessarily, I’ve made them riot as well…” Fuchsann says. The muscular arm lowers, “Hrrm… well, maybe I should introduce myself. I’m Joseph Lytle, and milady?” he stretches his hand out. “Fuchsann,” She shakes hands with him. “We don’t see too many female warriors, so you must pardon my selection,”
“I’m going to be a great swordswoman when I grow up!” Rowan bursts out.
Joseph chuckles. “I’m sure you will… But let’s see if we got anything for our visitor. Come into the backroom and take your pick,” he walks over to a door and opens it. Fuchsann steps into the big room with dozens of racks.
“My wife’s leather armors are quite popular with women who wants to fight. But I can probably make some adjustments to the plates if you want something heavy,” Fuchsann feels the weight of a platemail and puts it back on the rack. “Those were quite heavy…” “How about a chain shirt?” Joseph points to another rack.
“For heavens sake, be careful! We don’t know how your freeze shots will affect me,” Snowen says still dangling from the ceiling in shackles.
Falcon smashes the rest of his shackles on the rock wall. “Don’t worry, I’ll get it,” He aims his palm toward Snowen’s chains, then a tiny blue beam streams out of his hand. Falcon adjusts the aim, then unleashes greater powers. The chains crackle and eventually breaks. “How the hell are we going to get these shackles off my wrists?” Snowen asks, finally back on the ground. “I think I got a welder in this finger…” Falcon says. “Forget it. I’m not taking any chances with your powers,” “Maybe we should ask the jailkeeper for the key?” “You know, Falcon. You may just have a point there…”
Rowan tightens the laces on the back of Fuchsann’s leather armor. Fuchsann straps on a leather skirt, and some kneepads. Joseph is at work with adjusting a helmet to fit a fox’ head. “It’s not every day we are blessed with visitors like you, you know,” “We mostly get invasions from the cursed hordes,” Rowan says. “Cursed hordes?” Fuchsann asks “What are th-ayow!”
“I’m sorry, was that too tight?” “No, just be a bit careful so that you don’t snag any more fur…”
Joseph pauses a bit from his work, “The cursed hordes,” He wipes his sweaty forehead with a rag. “They are the scourge of the west, they wear no armor and bear no weapons. They become armored and they grow blades and hammers from their very bodies the second they see a person who are not one of them,” “What do they look like?” “You’d rather ask what they don’t look like. I’ve heard they have some sort of monarch, who takes possession of the strongest and most appealing shape, and any other she encounters will be turned into minions. No one really knows what makes this king or queen able to do this, but it has been done and is likely to continue…” “That’s terrible…” Fuchsann says. Joseph nods and looks at the heated steel.
“Damnit, Snowen!” Falcon says a bit impatient “Don’t tell me this lock too is too old for you!” “Alright,” Snowen sighs “Then I won’t,” “We gotta get outta here soon, I can feel them coming!” “Don’t worry. Wherever we are, it ain’t exactly high-tech. And I’ve got plenty of guns,”
A tall man with short, dark hair and a crested armor comes into the smithy with his helmet under arm. “Good day, Joseph. Have you my sword ready?”
“Am I not a man of my word?” Joseph replies “I’ve got it in storage, be right back with it,” He goes into the room filled with arms and armor. The shining armor walks towards Fuchsann. “What matter of beautiful creature have we here?” The tall guy kneels at Fuchsann’s feet. He kisses her hand. “Fuchsann, and you?” Fuchsann says, a bit flattered. ”I, am Jonah D’Argyl,”
Fuchsann notices the crest on his armor is a fox. “You must be Johan’s son…?” She says. Jonah gets back up “I am. You must be the daughter of Amalia…?” Fuchsann shakes her head “Who is Amalia?”
Jonah puts his hand on his chest “Goddess of the woodland creatures, savior of us all. Shape of the fox united with believers, may She guide them all,”
“So… You actually think I’m of her kin?” Fuchsann asks. Jonah bows down his head. “At first, yes. But I believe you should know your own origin better than I. Forgive me,” Rowan jumps up onto a table behind Fuchsann. “Forgive you for what?” Fuchsann wonders. “Did I not insult you?” he says. “I’m rather flattered to be called daughter of a goddess, but why should I have been insulted?” “You might have been a worshipper of any of the other gods, or demons for that sake…”
“Damnit, Snowen!” Falcon says a bit stressed. “You and your stupid guns!”
“Shut up and run!” Snowen says as the bullets ricochet of the carapaces of grayish beings. Falcon throws his guns at the monsters, then fires a spray of blue bolts from his hands. The two in front shatter as the rest of the beasts hack and slash their way through the frozen blockade. Falcon starts running again. “Where the hell did their gear come from?!” Snowen shouts.
Joseph comes out of the backroom, with a giant crystalline sword and a metallic orb. “Go see your father for the symbiosis-thing, I wouldn’t dare to perform the ritual,” he says as he hands Jonah the sword. “But this little thing here… I’ve never seen this before…?”
Fuchsann thinks for a second. “20-13… Come…” she says. The orb jumps out of Joseph’s mighty palm, into Fuchsann’s. “By Amalia’s will!” Joseph says a bit shocked. Jonah watches in fascination, Rowan is in awe. “Cool, huh?” Fuchsann says with a smile. She thinks a few seconds. “20-13… uh… fists,” The metal melts into long, metallic gloves. Joseph gets even more religious and Rowan almost loses balance by watching such a magical piece of metal. “You still claim you have no bonds with Amalia?” Jonah asks, pulling at his chin. Fuchsann giggles slightly and shrugs her shoulders. “If only I could shape metal in that way,” Joseph dreams aloud.
“Door up ahead,” Falcon pants. “Use your powers, or we’re done for!” Snowen says while pulling a pin out of a grenade. A purple bolt smashes the door, and the grenade rolls close to the stampeding, gray beasts. The grenade goes off and the wall next to it collapses over the beasts. “Should stall them a bit,” Snowen smirks.
“Name?” An elderly man behind a desk asks. “Luthien Maro” A tall elf with long golden hair says. “Weapon?” The elf draws a short-sword and a long-sword. “Any magical properties?” “Yes,” the elf says “The long is enchanted with spider’s bane, the short has a daylight ability,” “You’re set to go then… Ask the jester for directions. Next,” Rowan pulls Fuchsann forward. “My, my, my…” The elderly man straightens his glasses “What honors us with such divine presence?” “Fuchsann,” The man quickly scribbles it down on a sheet of paper with a feather. “Weapon?” Fuchsann looks down at Rowan, with eyes seeking answers. “War-gauntlets,” Rowan says. “And magical properties?” Rowan looks quizzically at Fuchsann. “Uhm… No…” Fuchsann says. “You are uncertain…?” The old man pulls at his beard. “Yes…” “Give the floor a whack, and let me see how it reacts, hmm?”
Fuchsann kneels down and punches the floor hard. The ground in the vicinity trembles a bit, and the impact gives off blue sparks. The old man straightens his glasses and scribbles something down. “I say they have a force-enchantment, you’re good to go. The jesters will take you to your place. Good luck,”
There is a clanking sound coming running. It’s Jonah, with a magnificent helmet on his head, his crested armor and no weapons. “I’m not too late I hope?” “Of course not, Jonah,” The old man dips his feather and starts writing. “Any new weapons? Or are you still carrying your great sword?” “Oh, it’s new alright…” Jonah raises his right fist. A blade, shining like the sun, shoots out of his hand. He grabs it firmly with both hands, and wields it like a great-sword. “Impressive… And what do you call such a weapon?” “Soul-blade,” Jonah’s voice seems proud to utter such a name. “Does it do anything else than concealment and light?” “It’s quite new to me, but this I have pieced together…” Jonah points the blade at a wall. A yellow-glowing ball is shot out from the blade, but leaves no mark as it hits the wall. “And…” Jonah swings the blade, and an arc of yellow light shoots forth. “Impressive… But, the wall was untouched…?” “My father said it would only harm those who are evil at heart, so… I guess the wall is not evil…” Jonah chuckles a bit. The old man cracks a smile as he scribbles down the last bit. “Jesters will lead you to your place, and good luck,”
“You can stop now…” Snowen says, as Falcon keeps flinging bolt upon bolt of energy at a collapsed doorway. The fresh, open air was quite welcome in their lungs. “You’re probably right… Your grenade did block them quite a bit…” Falcon ceases fire and takes time to breathe. “Now then… Where are we supposed to go?” “Hell if I know. I just think it’s weird that 20-13 is gone,” Snowen readies a few weapons in his belt. “I just hope that Fuchsann and Wekka are alright…” Falcon says a bit worried. “Hey, look!” Snowen points to the sky above the treetops “Smoke! Maybe someone has set up camp there. Let’s see if they can help us out,”
“Eugh! That was a bad fight for Tolarn, but the victory goes to; Lothar!” Primitive speakers surrounds the dueling-arena, and spectators more so. The crowds cheer on the battered victor, as the opposition is dragged away. Fuchsann, Rowan and Jonah sit in a booth close to the arena, viewing all the action through stained windows. Along with them are a score of other competitors, all eagerly awaiting their names to be called out by the annoying little gnome. “The next couple out; Fuchsann and Karsk Krainjumsmaesher! Don’t ask me how they pronounce it, but give them a big hand!” Rowan hands Fuchsann her helmet, and helps her fit the straps. Fuchsann’s hair was braided to be less in the way, but still a long braid stuck out at the back of her helmet. Jonah pats her back on her way out into the arena. On the opposite side of her stood a mighty half-orc, wielding two great-swords and wearing only a chain shirt for protection. “Ready…” The gnome in the commentator-booth says. “Fight!”
The enormous hulk charges at Fuchsann, and Fuchsann charges against him. Fuchsann drops to the ground and slides between his legs, then quickly gets up and runs after the barbarian, who is barely able to stop. Just as Karsk turns around, Fuchsann jumps toward him and plants her right fist in his face. Karsk is knocked to the ground, losing his grip on his left-hand weapon. Fuchsann takes a few steps back, and Karsk gets back on his feet, with only one sword and an insanely angry face… The half-orc releases a mighty roar as he once again charges towards the vixen. Fuchsann ducks the horizontal swing of the sword, then springs back up again with her fist raised. Blue sparks shoot out of Karsk’s chin as he is sent backwards. His grip on the sword loosens, the blade penetrates the ground and stands there. Karsk lies on the ground, with eyes wide open, twitching, blood running from his already ugly face. The crowd goes wild, chanting Fuchsann’s name and stomping their feet. “Too bad Karsk. I’ve never seen any female fighter take out a barbarian with such ease! Big hand for Fuchsann, the unarmed wonder!” Fuchsann waves to the masses as she walks back to the booth, and Karsk and his weapons are cleared for the next fight.
“So… You’re saying you’ve found one of our friends?” Falcon asks the small group of rangers. “Aye, some of our troops carried of a… a fox I believe it was…” “Oh, thank god… Fuchsann…” Falcon says relieved. “What about a white cat?” Snowen asks. “Can’t say I’ve heard anythin’ ‘bout a cat, sorry…” “How far is it to Castle Hart?” Falcon takes a sip from a waterskin a ranger passed to him. “It’ll take ‘bout 2 days,” “Unless we lead the way that is…” Another ranger says. “Will you take us?” Snowen asks. “Alright, but only if you show us what those metal lumps in your belt’s good for…” “I’ll do better than that…” Snowen says “I’ll give you one each when we get there, how about that?” “Done, deal!” The five rangers say synchronously.
“All you who enjoy a good fight are advised to stay seated. This will be a very special match-up, GUARANTEED! Warm welcome to; Thyrael Ganazar, the sorcerer from Mew’Kon! And to get things even more interesting, every little lass’ fondest dream; Our very own Jonah D’Argyl!”
Thyrael wears a black, rune-written robe, and bears tattoos of might on his bald head. Jonah enters the arena, and all the female spectators scream wildly. He gives a wave to his fans and projects his sword. The sorcerer takes a firm stance in the blood-drenched sand, holding his hands ready to do whatever he does best. His many rings sparkle in the light of the gnomish spotlights. “Ready…” Jonah quickly makes a hand gesture, symbolizing his faith in Amalia. “Fight!”
A grin crosses Thyrael’s face as he throws his hands forward. A red beam shoots towards Jonah, but is reflected by a swift rotation of the blade. The beam almost hits Thyrael, and Jonah calmly walks toward the enraged sorcerer. A giant hand comes out of thin air over Jonah, but the slam of the hand was averted by a roll. Thyrael was nervous, and the hand grabbed Jonah as he got back on his feet. The clenched fist holds Jonah tight, giving the sorcerer the opportunity to cast spells. Spouts of fire licks the paladins armor, as he wriggles about the firm grip. The sword suddenly cuts through the fingers of the magical hand, and Jonah swings the sword at the flames. The flames shoot back at Thyrael, but Thyrael raises a magical barrier around himself. Jonah holds his blade in one hand and runs towards Thyrael. The sorcerer was chanting some spell, but the gauntlet grasps his throat through the barrier. Jonah throws Thyrael to the ground and rams the sword through his heart. The sorcerer is reduced to only an empty robe and smoke, leaving the crowd in awe. The cleanup-crew pokes the smoking robe, and Jonah raises his sword. It’s pure light shines bright, and the crowd cheers him on. “I’d hate to be in Thyrael’s robes a few seconds ago! The defender of light sure showed him what enlightenment is. The victor; Jonah!”
Back in the contestants’ booth, Jonah sits down next to Fuchsann. “Wow…” Fuchsann says “That was quite impressive…” Jonah takes his helmet off. Patterns of soot stains his sweaty face. “Thank you… You did quite well yourself,”
The other contestants sitting in the booth were whispering among themselves, and some even started going out at the back. “But… What happened to Thyrael?” Rowan asks. “He was evil…” Jonah says “I could sense that whatever purpose he had was not good,” “But what HAPPENED to him?” “I guess my sword purged the evil from his body, but he was obviously too corrupted to survive…” Jonah pulls off his gauntlets and wipes his face. Fuchsann leans a bit forward in her seat and looks past Jonah. “Where’s everybody going?” Jonah turns his head and looks at the last of the contestants leave. “Perhaps they feel intimidated by our display of power,” He shrugs and runs his fingers through his hair.
“I’ve got it…” Falcon whispers to one of the rangers. A blue bolt shoots out of his hand and freezes a hare solid. The ranger runs over to the block of ice and picks it up. “I thought you said you would kill it, not freeze the bloody thing!” “Oops…” Falcon says and shuffles his feet. “At least it’s kept fresh till we heat it up again… Right?” “Aye, prob’ly. And the others will get a good laugh outta this, that’s for sure…” He stuffs the ice-sculpture into his backpack and continues his hunting. After a while the ranger points out a deer. “Now, my good wolf. I will show you a true marksman…” The ranger gets a crossbow off his back, kicks back the string, loads a bolt and… The bolt flies straight through the head of the unsuspecting animal. “Not bad…” Falcon nods and smiles. “I guess this’ll hold our bellies quiet for the night, don’t you think?”
“Next two out are; Marko Liero and Loki… What?” The gnome in the commentator’s booth sounds surprised. “Howler and Toivo Pellar… Not those either…? Luthien Maro and… Err… How about… No?” The crowd goes totally wild, flinging alemugs and fruit into the arena. “Alright, alright. It seems we’re skipping straight to the final battle. The two remaining are; Fuchsann and Jonah D’Argyl!” The crowd calms down as the two enter the arena together. They position themselves in the middle of the arena. “Ready… Fight!”
Jonah stands ready, but doesn’t do anything. Fuchsann also awaits an action. She let’s her guard down. “This is hopeless… I don’t wanna fight you!” She takes off her helmet and throws it to the ground. Jonah throws his sword and helmet as well. The sword vanishes after a few seconds. Fuchsann gives Jonah a hug. Some spectators start chanting for blood, others just watch the romantic scene. “I think you should win,” Jonah says. “Me? No way… You’re better suited for such,” Fuchsann replies as she releases the grip on him. “I refuse to harm you, you must win!” “Nah-ah, I don’t know shit about royalty! You win!” “No, I insist that you win,” “YOU WIN,” Fuchsann grits her teeth. “I refuse to admit victory over you,” Jonah shakes his head. “You fucking pansy! Come on!” She shoves him. “Never,”
Fuchsann gives him a punch right in his chest, leaving a big dent on the armor and long tracks of where he slid in the sandy arena. Jonah stays lying there intentionally. “And the winner is; Fuchsann! Hail to our new queen!” Half the crowd screams with joy, the other half boos and hisses.
Fuchsann stamps her foot and yells with all of her lungs: “DAMNIT!”
“Did you guys hear that?” Falcon says while chewing on his slab of meat. “Prob’ly jus’ the winds…” One of the rangers reply. “What did ya have in mind?” Another asks. “Nah, it was nothing…” Falcon says and takes another bite of the deer’s leg. “So we’ll be at Castle Hart tomorrow?” Snowen asks. “We should be, if we take the right trails,” “Or as long we aren’t attacked by any orcs or goblins,” “Or spiders,” “Or dragons,” Everyone went silent as dragons were mentioned. “What? Everyone knows there aren’t draggies here… Right?” The other rangers stare deeply at the one trying to excuse himself. The crackling fire casts eerie shadows on the tents around. “You’re right…” One of the other rangers say “Worst we could encounter are hordlings…”
Sitting atop her throne, in gowns most royal, Fuchsann’s foul mood sits deep. Jonah enters the throne room, in a nice suit of clothes. He steps up to the queen and kneels before her. “Good evening, my dear queen. I trust that all is well?” His smile was a mockery of what had just happened. “Nooo…” Fuchsann says ill-tempered. “Then pray tell, what ails the queen?” “As if you don’t know that already…” Jonah starts laughing. “True enough,” “Alright,” She straightens her red gown. “So the clothes are nice, and the throne is comfy, but mind you that I don’t belong here!” “I think it was long overdue that something as beautiful as you was wrapped in the royal garbs that your body deserves,” It’s the number before steam comes out of Fuchsann’s ears. “GUARDS!” Two sentries come through the door and run up the red carpet. Their chainmails rattle and their halberds sway. “My liege,” They say. “Take Jonah to his father, and ask him to set him straight, okay?” Fuchsann enjoyed the feeling of power. “Will that be all, my liege,” One of the guards ask as the other pushes Jonah out the door. “Could you send me a servant? I think I’ll go to bed now,” “Of course, my liege. Oh, and nice fight,” He smiles at her. “Thanks,” Fuchsann smiled as the guard turned and left. Then she looked over to her side, where an empty throne stood. “Please, Falcon. Please say you’re alive…” She thought while waiting for the servant. Her eyes start to run. She quickly wipes her eyes when she hears someone at the door. Rowan steps through the doorway. Fuchsann gets off her seat and paces down the red carpet.
“Are you sure that little Koru will come through safely? What with the hordlings and all that…” One ranger asks concerned to the other. “Koru’ll do just fine, as always…” “Who’s Koru?” Falcon asks. “Koru’s my little messenger… A young falcon I raised since he first saw the light of day. You see, we sent a message to Hart that we’d found you two,” One of the other rangers throws a piece of wood into the crackling fire. “I’ll take first guard,” He says “Get some rest before I get too tired,”
The silken sheets, the down-mattress and other things fit for a queen could not send her into dreamland. All she could do was think about Snowen and Falcon, and wonder whether they were alive or not. Her heart said they were, but the doubt of her mind clouded that judgment, leaving her confused and in tears. She wanted to pray, but she didn’t know to what deity or faith she should turn to. It felt to her as if fate was mocking her by leaving her alone in a gloriously adorned room. She feels swallowed by the darkness around her, and it seems to pull her deeper and deeper…
A bright wall of light cuts through the dark matter, and Johan walks quietly into the room with a piece of paper in his hand. “My lady…?” He almost whispers. Fuchsann sits up and wipes her eyes. “What ails you, child?” Johan lights a candle by touching the wick with his finger, then sits down on a chair next to the bed. “I don’t belong here…” Fuchsann wipes her nose and straightens her nightgown. Johan nods and pulls at his short, white beard. “I can remember when I was about your age… I used to say the same thing to myself after having sworn my blood to the protection of Amalia’s ways. I was found by the bishop in a scene not unlike this… I was crying because I missed my dear Jana, and I told the bishop just what you told me…” “Who’s Jana?” Fuchsann asks. Johan sighs. “She was my wife, and as you might already have guessed, we had a son named Jonah,” “But… Ehh… Aren’t clerics supposed to like… not have children?” Johan shakes his head in reply. “Who is it you wish you have at your side?” “Falcon…” Fuchsann sighs. “Then I will tell you what the bishop told me that night. Having faith in those you long for will save you tears, and know also that the one you long for also shares your feelings,” Fuchsann nods, a bit confused. “Ehm… Sure…” She says. “Anyway, the ranger-brothers have found something you might be interested in,” Johan says and clears his throat, then unfolds the piece of paper. “The letter reads; We found two persons matching the vixen. One is gray, possibly wolf. Other is white, and hard to tell. Feed Koru upon arrival. Estimated to be at home at noon on Wednesday. Heat us a boar or we will be cranky. Signed by Khepan,” Johan rolls the paper again. “What day is it today?” Fuchsann asks with a happy smile from ear to ear. “It’s the night of Tuesday…” Fuchsann almost starts jumping in her bed as Johan informs her that. “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god…” “What about your God?” Johan asks. Fuchsann grabs Johan’s robe and says: “They’re fucking alive!” Johan smiles and gets off his seat. “I hope these news will ease your sleep,” Johan blows out the candle and proceeds out the door. “Good night, young queen,” “Night-night,” Fuchsann says and lies down.
Knowing those she cared about were safe brought up a new issue around falling to sleep; Now she was too excited to fall asleep…
The rain fell heavily on the journey to Castle Hart, but the rangers knew where they were going. “How long until we get to Hart?” Snowen asks. “We’ll be there at noon…” “What time of day is it now?” Falcon asks. One of the rangers looks at a small box hanging on his belt. “Noon…” He says. True to their words, a huge stonewall stretched across the eyes of the wanderers. “They better have our boar ready…” One of them says a bit grouchy.
“Fuchsann… Fuchsann! Wake up!” The young servant commands the queen. Fuchsann just rolls over onto her side. “Piss off… Wake me in half an hour…” “But I have done that three times already… It’s noon!” “If you don’t wanna do it, then don’t… Just piss off…” Rowan just sighs and leaves the room.
“Would you just let us in already!” One of the rangers yells at the guards. “How can we be sure you’re not spies?” One of the guards reply. “Because we ain’t!” “And if not spies, how can we be sure you are not with the horde?” “There really should be a minimum intellect to enlist as a guard…” One of the rangers whispers to the others. “We have someone who needs to see the vixen!” “AHA! You are nothing but assassins! The queen has given us no orders of visitors!” “Queen?” Falcon says to Snowen a bit surprised. “Be gone, or must we send our drakes on you?!” “SEND YER STUPID DRAKES, I DARE YA!” “Alright…” The guard says and says something to his colleague. “We are letting them out of their cages now! So you had better make haste!” The rangers stand cold and wet, staring angrily at the nervous guards. “They are taking flight! Last chance!” The guards start quarreling. “Any second now…” One of them says. Still, the rangers wait impatiently for the drawbridge to go down. “Oh, bugger…” The guard sighs and says something to his colleague. The drawbridge drops down over the moat, giving safe passage for the rain-drenched group.
Behind the walls lies a little town, with a few two-story buildings built wall to wall all the way up to the castle. The guards at the castle entrance opens the doors for the travelers when they catch sight of them. “These boys have understood it…” One of the rangers whisper to the others.
Johan greets the party at the door. “Have you got a boar cookin’?” One of the rangers asks. “I am terribly sorry… I forgot to tell the cook of your arrival,” All five rangers stamps their foot and says: “Johan, you arse!” then all of them begin to complain about lack of respect for hooded people and so on. Johan waves Rowan over to Falcon and Snowen while trying to have a discussion with the rangers. Rowan asks the two to come with her. “I am Rowan, what are your names?” Rowan asks while walking backwards. “I am Falcon, this is Snowen,” Rowan smiles and turns around again. “Do you always have strange names like that?” “My real name is Joon, and his name is Zaz,” Rowan giggles. “Those were even funnier,”
A few corridors later, Rowan stops at a door. “The queen is still asleep, I think… Should I announce your arrival?” Falcon smiles. “No, we can do that ourselves,” Rowan opens the heavy, wooden door. “So she’s become queen, huh?” Falcon says as he lets his eyes sweep the room. “Are you her boyfriend?” Rowan suddenly asks. “Yeah…” Falcon says with his eyes on Fuchsann. “Thought so… ‘Cause she said she got a shirt from him, and you haven’t got one…” “Clever girl…” Snowen says as he looks at the ornamental weapons on the wall. Falcon walks closer to the bed, Rowan follows him. “How did she become queen, anyway?” “She won a tournament, sir,” “What kind of weapon did she use?” Snowen asks. Rowan turns around, facing Snowen. “She used some strange gauntlets, sir. They were almost like a part of her, and they employed great power,”
Falcon blows Fuchsann in her ear. She rolls onto her back. He then squeezes his wet tail over her face. “Rowan, I’m gonna kill you…” She says and rubs her eyes as she sits up. Falcon leans down in front of her, and as she opens her eyes he says: “Boo,” Fuchsann was beyond words. Rowan giggled a bit. Soon enough they were embracing each other. Then Fuchsann suddenly pulls Falcon onto the bed, rolls him onto his back and holds him down. “Don’t ever leave me alone again. Who knows what trouble I can get into?” She smiles as she looks down at Falcon. “Do you wish me to leave you alone with these gentlemen?” Rowan asks. Fuchsann throws her hair back and says: “Yeah, that would be alright. You can take Snowen with you as well… Get him some dry clothes or something…” “Will there be anything else?” “Actually, yeah… What is a queen without a king?” Fuchsann winks at Rowan and grins at Falcon. Rowan leaves the room with Snowen. “Finally! Alone with you… In bed…” Fuchsann says and turns her back to Falcon. “What more could one ever ask for?” He replies and sits up. “For starters you could undo whatever is tied up back there,” Falcon starts untying the laces on her nightgown. “So what were you and Snowen up to?” “Oh… The usual… Busting out of a prison, burying the monstrous guards alive… What kinda knots are these?” “I have no idea… Just get this stupid thing offa me,” “Well that’s easier said than done,” Falcon says and fumbles a bit with the laces. “Maybe if I pull this through here…” Falcon mumbles. “Ow!” “Maybe not…” “Maybe we should just rip this thing?” Fuchsann says and sighs.
Snowen hangs his belts over the changing screen and pulls off his dripping shirt. “Would you prefer blue or red, sir?” Rowan stands in a closet and digs about. “Pick what you think would look best,” Snowen unzips his pants and pulls them down. Standing in nothing but his boots he starts drying himself off with a towel. He sits down on a stool with the towel wrapped around his waist, then tries pulling at the red boots. Try as he might, they won’t come off. “Here are your clothes… I hope they fit,” Rowan stretches out her hand with a folded pile of clothes on the side of the screen. Snowen takes the clothes out of her hand and starts dressing himself in the fine, blue suit.
“You know…” Falcon says. “I’m not sure if I want to rip it,” “Just do it before I do, okay?” Fuchsann wags her tail a bit. He turns her around and takes a firm grip on the neck of the nightgown. The fine materials tear as Falcon pulls his hands rapidly apart. The nightgown splits to down beneath her chest. He smiles and says: “That was quite satisfying…” Fuchsann looks down at her bare chest and grins. She throws off the nightgown. Falcon stares at her naked body, then notices the chastity-belt. “Nice underwear…” “You can borrow it if you want,” Fuchsann says and laughs a bit while reaching for something on her chest. “How do you get it on and off?” Falcon asks and looks at her as she gets on all four and digs about the bed. “There’s this fucking key… That I can’t find…” She responds mildly enraged and lifts pillows and sheets. Falcon pulls her onto his lap and says: “It ain’t the end of the world if we don’t have sex you know…” Fuchsann sighs. “It’s not just that…” She says and walks over to a wardrobe. “I seriously gotta pee!”
Rowan carries a purple suit in her arms, Snowen walks right behind her. Johan comes the opposite way. “I’m quite sorry for the rangers’ behavior earlier…” He says and halts them both. “Not to worry,” Snowen says “I’ve seen people behave worse for less,” Johan smiles and stretches out his hand. “Johan D’Argyl, royal cleric,” “Snowen, Black & White agent,” Snowen says and shakes hands with the old man. Rowan looks up at Johan. “Would you take Snowen from here, sir. I’ve got to drop off these clothes…” “Of course, child. Run your errands, and don’t worry about Snowen,” Johan smiles down at her. Rowan walks off with the pile of clothes. “Now then, is there anything you would like to see or hear?” Johan asks. “You know…” Snowen says “I’ve always been fascinated by the weapons of your time,” “Then let us have a word with the smith then… I am certain he will gladly show you his wares,” Johan pats Snowen’s back and leads the way through the stone halls.
Rowan knocks on the door to the royal bedroom and opens it. Falcon sits on the bed. “Where’s the queen?” She asks and approaches him. “She’s off having a piss, I think…” “Anyway, here are your clothes, sir. I hope you like them,” “Where do I put them on?” Falcon asks and looks about the room. Rowan points to a screen in one corner of the room. “She wouldn’t happen to be missing a key, would she?” Rowan asks while picking up the torn night-gown. “Well actually, yes. How did you know that?” Falcon says from behind the screen. “Well, I found the key…” A part of a wooden wall opens and Fuchsann comes running out in a robe. “Thank you, thank you, thank you…” She says and snags the key out of Rowan’s fingers, then runs back and closes the wall behind her. “She is a bit strange at times… Do you not agree?” Rowan giggles. “I’ve seen a lot of weird things these past days, but I find her the most adorable…” “Aww… What a sweet thing to say…” Rowan straightens the sheets on the bed.
“I have finally found out how to make my blade solid,” Jonah tells Joseph as Johan opens the door to the smithy. Joseph sees Snowen and greets him: “Welcome… I see I’m having the pleasure to see one of the queen’s friends,” “And by the impressive muscular build on your body I presume you are the smith…?” Snowen says as he meets the mighty hand Joseph stretches out. “Joseph Lytle,” “Snowen,” Snowen casts a quick glance at Jonah before he lets go of the smith’s hand. “You seem to be Johan’s son… Am I right?” Jonah smiles and shakes his hand. “Jonah D’Argyl… How could you see that…?” “Your jaws have many similarities, not to mention hairline and iris,” “You saw all that by only strafing me with your sight?” Jonah says baffled and takes off his jacket. “If you haven’t noticed already, my eyes are slightly different from yours…” Joseph hands Jonah a rapier. “Pray tell, dear Snowen,” Johan rubs his chin “Why are they all black?” “My eyes have been covered by a biological substance that enhances my visual perceptive abilities. The entire eye functions as a receptor, and a liquid is excreted instantly if a bright flash of light should occur, nullifying the effect,” “Huh?” Joseph grunts while sharpening an axe. “Indeed interesting…” Jonah says while jabbing and slashing with the rapier. “Excuse me, but may I try one of your fine weapons, Joseph?” Snowen looks at the racks with weapons lined along a wall. Joseph raises his palm and says: “Be my guest…”
A big smile comes across the white muzzle, and Snowen handed his fine, blue jacket to Johan. He grabbed a rapier and slashed it about. “Care to take a challenge, my good man?” Jonah asks Snowen. Joseph takes a break from his sharpening and turns to look at the two young fencers. “By all means,” Snowen says and bows, then stands ready for combat.
Jonah takes a few steps closer, then aggressively jabs the rapier at Snowen. The jabs are elegantly parried, and soon Jonah loses the rapier. “I am no good with such light weaponry…” Jonah wipes his forehead. “I must admit that I have never had a great talent for these melee weapons,” Snowen says and puts the rapier back in the rack. Jonah racks his rapier and calls forth his soul-blade. “Impressive weapon… Photon-based?” Snowen asks. “Pardon?” “Never mind…”
“You’re handsome in that suit,” Fuchsann says while walking with her arm under Falcon’s, dragging a big red cape. “You deserve being wrapped in royalty…” She smiles and looks at him. Falcon smiles, keeping up with Rowan’s fast pace. “Not at all, my dear… It is nothing but fair that something so beautiful bears the crimson cape,” “Say what?” Fuchsann says and straightens her white gown. “You’re fucking gorgeous…” Falcon says and chuckles. “Oh…” She straightens her hair “This cape is so damn heavy, so I dunno how any queen could go about her things unimpaired by it,”
Rowan walks backwards. “I usually have to carry it about… That’s how,” She turns around again. “Dining hall is just down this corridor…”
Jonah grabs his forehead. Snowen shows off a modern firearm for Joseph and hands it to him. “Use it with extreme caution. These pistols are too easy to kill with,” Joseph nods and looks down at the weapon. “I will… Thanks a bunch,” “Father… Something is amiss…” Jonah says and puts on his white jacket. “I fear the queen is threatened by dark forces…” He jogs towards the door. “I’m not missing this…” Snowen says, grabs his blue jacket and runs after Jonah.
“So what seems to be the problem?” Snowen asks, running alongside Jonah in the pouring rain. “I sense an act of evil in the south… It might be in the royal kitchen…” Jonah stops to pull open a mighty, wooden door, then picks up the pace inside, Snowen following in short proximity.
“Damn… Look at them pigging out…” Fuchsann whispers to Falcon at one end of a long table. “Those are the guys who brought me and Snowen here… Wonder what has happened to Wekka though…”
Koru, the falcon, stands on his master’s shoulder, occasionally pecking at the pieces of meat the ranger holds up to it now and again. The five rangers are almost identical, all wearing worn, green or black clothes, with leather under their tunic and on their arms.
“That’s a cute little falcon that guy’s got there…” Fuchsann raises a finger towards the bird “…but I think my Falcon is cuter…” She leans toward Falcon and directs his muzzle with her finger.
A soaked Jonah barges the door open, accompanied by Snowen. The eyes of the wet man scour the magnificent room. “Can’t see anything wrong here…” Snowen says and walks over to the rangers. “There is something here… Perchance it hasn’t occurred yet,” Jonah walks toward the kitchen.
“Typical…” Fuchsann grumbles.
Snowen sticks his finger into the roasted, half-eaten boar, then licks his finger. He does the same with the pitcher of wine. “There’s at least no poison here…” He says while the rangers look at him. Jonah comes back out of the kitchen. “The source is in this room… Though I cannot locate the exact position,” The little falcon stares at Jonah as he paces about the room. “What’s all the fuss about?” Fuchsann asks when he comes close. “I sense the presence of evil in this room, I fear it may be an assassin,” Snowen looks up at the high ceiling, then crouches down. “Don’t think he might be up there, do you?” He asks Jonah. “Hard to tell…” Snowen suddenly shoots high into the air and grabs hold of a support beam, then swings himself up onto it. “Nothing I can see here…” He shouts down at the others.
Jonah looks toward the rangers, who doesn’t seems oblivious to Jonah and Snowen’s actions, then his eyes meets the beady eyes of Koru.
“It’s the fowl!” He yells and raises his palm. A pure white bolt shoots out and knocks Koru of the ranger’s shoulder. The ranger quickly gets on his feet and flings a dagger at Jonah. Snowen shoots the dagger while it flies in Jonah’s direction. “You bloody bastard! Koru had done you nuthin’! Pick on someone yer own size, yeah!”
The little bird turns into a pale woman in black, skimpy clothes. “Shoot her Snowen! She is a spy!” Jonah commands while running towards the woman. A thick, gray carapace suddenly grows out of her body, deflecting the bullets. “Shit… I’ll have to help that guy,” Falcon tells Fuchsann and jumps onto the table. Jonah wields his glowing blade, and swings it at the gray beast. The blade slices through the carapace and into the flesh beneath. The beast smites Jonah, only to be met by a spray of blue bolts. The torso is frozen, and soon after shattered by a few bullets from Snowen. Severed body parts fall to the floor and the carapace vanishes from them.
Jonah gets up from the floor. He picks up the head of the scattered body, by it’s long black hair, still holding his glowing sword. “Who do you serve, lycanthropist?” “Ydakra si htaed rouy fo eman eht…” “Witch!” Jonah throws the head up and rams his sword into it. In a flash of light, all the severed body-parts vanish.
The ranger who owned Koru was in shock. “All this time… I’ve been raisin’ a bloody wytch…” Jonah shakes his head. “No, Khepan… This was done recently, or else I would have felt it earlier…” “What did the hag say? Who did this?” Jonah’s empty hand clenches into a trembling fist. “Arkady…” He says with an angry voice. A thundering thump spreads throughout the dining hall when Snowen’s boots hit the ground. “Whatever the arse’s name is, I’m gonna make him pay for Koru!”
Jonah shakes his head and starts walking towards Fuchsann. “We may crush his body, but we cannot kill him! I have yet to hear news from Apokasis… He is our only hope if we wish to survive…” He kneels before Fuchsann with his head bowed down. “Dear queen, I fear that you will no longer be safe. I do not know why, but I feel the darkness is drawing near Castle Hart. I will fight till the end to protect you,” “So…” Fuchsann gets off her seat, speaking in a worried tone “We are in deep-shit trouble, huh?”
“Could this be it, guys?” Fuchsann sits on her throne, Falcon sitting in the one next to her and Snowen pacing about the room looking at the ornamental weapons. “I mean like, we’ve had a damn good meal and all that… So ain’t that like symbolic in the sense that we are doomed or something?” Falcon takes Fuchsann’s hand. “Jonah is rallying all those who can carry a weapon and securing the women and children… Things are looking dark, but let’s just hope this turns out good, eh?” “You’re right… I’m probably just worried for nothing…”
Through the windows high upon the walls, the gray and rainy sky turns black. The crystals that lay in sockets on the wall light up. Fuchsann tightens her grip on Falcon’s hand. “Don’t worry… I’m not gonna let you die again,” Falcon says. Snowen stares at one of the crystals, then picks it up. “Strange crystal… It practically vibrates with energy,” He says and closes his palm around it. “This darkness might have a military purpose, confuse us and such. Would be hard to keep track of time without clocks, and easier to be concealed when attacking. I can remember I did something like that… Sat up a darkness-field around an entire city only to kill over 1000 targets with my bare hands, without being seen or heard of course…”
“Keep it for yourself. I’m shaky enough as is,” Fuchsann tells Snowen. From under the door, the 20-13 unit slides into the room. It stops by Snowen’s feet. “So there you are! Naughty, little girl…” Snowen picks up the unit. “There seems to be some sort of uncharted energy-current in the air. Must be why she couldn’t track me and vice versa…”
A guard enters the room, bearing armor, sword and shield. “Grave news, my liege,” He says as he approaches. “Johan and Jonah are certain that we will soon be attacked by hordlings, I must ask you to follow me,” “Okay…” Fuchsann gets off her seat, so does Falcon. “Where are you taking us?” “To the secret passages, my liege. ‘Tis the safest place you can be under a siege, and we do not know of what magnitude the hordlings attack will be,” “Alright then… Lead the way,”
The guard steps up to the thrones, presses a carving on one of them. He then proceeds to the wall behind the thrones. “The bleeding heart shall not be alone,” He says into the wall, and it moves aside. “Come,” The guard says and takes a crystal from the wall.
Long dark stairs, spiraling down, only lit by the crystals in the guard’s and Snowen’s hand. Fuchsann held Falcon’s hand tightly. The guard opens a metal door and lets them in. “I must leave you here, there should be some dry rations and a little source of water in there, should this draw out…” The guard sighs and closes the door. There are a few bunks along a wall, some barrels in a corner and a trickling fountain in the other. Snowen puts the glowing crystal into a lantern hanging from the ceiling. Fuchsann sits down on a bunk. “This is the life of royalty, huh…” She sighs “I’m sick and tired of being hidden in dark places…”
Snowen checks the barrels. “Not bad… Salted food. Should stay edible for…” He takes a bite of a dry piece of meat “…say another year,” He seals the barrel again and checks the fountain. He holds his hand under the small stream of water, then sucks it up. “Crystal-clear water… This would be luxury compared to where I sent my prisoners,” He shakes his wet hand. Fuchsann yawns. “I feel so tired all of a sudden,” Snowen draws a deep breath. “Oxygen shouldn’t be a problem… Tastes as if there is a ventilation-system with numerous filters in this place,” “I kinda feel some weird vibrations from the fountain, and under the floor… Much like how I feel that light-crystal is right there,” Falcon says and points at the lantern. Fuchsann takes off her cape, lies down and wraps the cape around her. “A deck of cards…” Snowen says and picks one out of a top bunk.
Falcon sits down by Fuchsann. “You going to sleep?” Fuchsann nodded. He kisses her cheek and says: ”Sweet dreams, my queen,”
Fuchsann smiles and slips into dreamland. “Round of poker?” Snowen asks. “How many aces are in the deck?” Falcon sits down on a bunk with Snowen. “Four, 54 cards total,” Snowen says after having ruffled through the cards. Falcon nods. “Alright then, you deal,”
Fuchsann wakes up from a nightmare with a little gasp. “You guys won’t believe what I just dreamt…” She looks about the room, but sees nobody. “Falcon? Snowen?” Her paws touch the cold floor. “Finally awake?” A low and weak voice asks. Fuchsann looks around her surroundings nervously. “Wh-who…? Wh-where…?” “Right in front of you, my dear vixen…” A skinny, pale human, bearing tool-belts, black clothes and goggles step out of the shadows. Fuchsann is startled by the long, thin figure. “Do not be frightened… I have no interest in harming you or your friends, I have already what I wanted from this castle,” He snaps his finger. All of a sudden, they are in the arena, where three people were chained to a wooden frame. “You two are free to go…” His skinny finger points towards the chained people. Two sets of chains vanish, and their bodies float closer. “Who are you?” Fuchsann asks, afraid… “My name is Arkady… I would imagine that Jonah D’Argyl has spoken warmly of me, has he not?” Fuchsann notices a red, almost glowing ring on his finger. The floating bodies are those of Falcon and Snowen, they are dropped in front of Fuchsann. “Your loved one fought bravely… for about half a minute or so, before he had to realize that my power exceeded his by far,” “Are they…?” Fuchsann holds her hands in front of her muzzle. “Far from it… I barely touched them. But as for Jonah…” A grim smile wrinkles the face of Arkady. “I just want you to witness one last thing before I send you and your friends back to your own world,” His sickeningly skinny body starts walking towards the wooden racks, Fuchsann’s feet loses contact with the ground and she floats after him. The body hanging on the frame seemed lifeless. Arkady snaps his long fingers in front of the man’s face. The bloody face that looks up is that of Jonah. Jonah’s eyes open, and immediately his fury makes his body pull at the chains to get to Arkady. “I thought my minions had exhausted you… Is my company that meaningful to you, to give you such energy of inner fires, hmm?” “Release me from these chains, and I will show you how my flames blaze only to scorch your body off the face of this world!” Jonah raged at Arkady. “Very well…” Jonah’s right hand comes free and hits Arkady. Arkady holds out his hands, and Jonah’s hand sticks out toward him. “I am going to grant you something your cherished goddess never has been able to…” A red ring drifts out of a pocket on Arkady’s belt. It is plucked between two pale and skinny fingers. “I know how you pledged to serve the forces of good for eternity, but you do obviously not know what it is you have promised…” Jonah looks in dread at the ring, as it is slowly placed upon his finger. “No… NO!” “I grant you, my dear Jonah, immortality… I grant you the gift to serve your dear Amalia for eternity…”
Jonah gains control of his arm again, and tries to get the ring off with his mouth. “And now… Over to you… As promised, I will not harm you, only send you back to your own world,” Fuchsann tried to speak, but couldn’t move a muscle. “Perhaps we will meet again… Some time in the future… But for nowFarewell,”
Fuchsann is blinded by a bright light, and loses all feeling in her body.