Metamor Keep -- First and Last
By Christian O'kane & Wolf

Part 3

Misha walked into the common room of the Jolly Collie and sat down at one of the empty tables. Soon afterward he was joined by a petite, brown haired woman in chain mail armor. A long sword hung from her belt in a green scabbard.

Neither said anything till after a waiter had taken their orders. She asked for grape juice, he ordered iced tea.

"Well?" the woman asked.

"Just as I expected Sarah, cold and distant. He was also dressed from head to toe in red robes," Misha replied.

"Red robes?" Sarah asked. "He was in black plate mail armor when he arrived. Why is he covered from head to toe?"

"Some southern mages cover themselves like that," Misha explained. "I'll have to ask Matt about that. See if he knows any southern factions who dress that way. What did you learn from the coach and drivers?"

"Not much. Both were hired just for the trip in Caratal, a city in Aratemo. They traveled straight here stopping only to change horses. The two drivers took turns at the reins and Holivar slept in the coach as it moved."

"Did they stop for meals at least?" Misha asked, confused.

The woman shook her head. "No. The drivers ate in their seats and neither saw the mage take any food or water."

"I hate dealing with mages," Misha commented. "They're always so weird, especially the powerful ones."

"What are my orders?"

Misha started to reply but the waiter arrived with the drinks and he kept silent till they were alone again. "They remain the same Sarah. Keep a close watch on him. Report his every movement." The fox swallowed his iced tea in a single gulp and got up to leave.

"Where will you be?" Sarah asked.

"In my workshop most of the time, but I'll be by during the night to see what's going on. Oh, I'll have Andre send you four more guards. Use them to strengthen the watch posts."

"All right Misha," the woman replied as the fox morph left the table. "Do you think he'll do something tonight?"

Misha stopped, "I don't think so. Most likely he'll try something during the examination tomorrow."

"Is he really after Madog?" Sarah asked.

The long scout shrugged, "At first I thought Holivar was just after Madog, but now I think there's more to it than that. What I do know is that he isn't here to help us out of the kindness of his heart. He wants something."

"What is he after?" Sarah asked.

The fox shook his head, "I don't know, but we're going to find out soon enough."

"You're playing a dangerous game Misha."

"I know, but remember the old adage. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer."

"I still don't like it," Sarah commented.

"Neither do I, but we really don't have much choice. This is a game we have to play. Besides, Holivar isn't the first one to try something like this. He's just a little more open about it than most," Misha explained.

The fox started for the door again. "Call me if anything happens."

Madog and Misha walked in silence away from the inn. It was still early and the streets were filled with countless people going about their business. The two turned down the first side street they came to. This road was broader than most, as it led up hill to the Keep itself. They got barely twenty feet up the road when Madog suddenly grabbed Misha by the sleeve and dragged the morph into an alley. The automaton looked Misha straight in the face, moonlight glistened off of his long, sharp, golden teeth.

"All right Madog, what's wrong? You haven't spoken since we met Holivar," Misha asked.

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Bolva was tired of Lord Holivar. That masquerade had gotten him here and that was all he needed. He laughed at the memory of the games Misha had tried to play with him. The fox thing had thought he was being so careful and safe. After all the years of waiting he wasn't going to let an ignorant patarini stand in his way. All it had taken to gain control of Madog was a simple touch on the shoulder. The moment contact was made, the control spell had taken hold. It had been the smallest moment to plant the commands and put Madog under his complete control. The order to kill Misha had been a spur of the moment addition.

The time for skulking and hiding was over, now he could move openly. Bolva opened the door and stepped out of his room. Moving calmly and confidently he strode the length of the hallway and down the steps.

At this hour the common room should have been full patrons; eating, drinking and just relaxing. Instead the only sign of life was a small fire crackling in the fireplace. Long wooden tables lay empty and chairs pulled in gave testimony to the fact that the room had been unused all evening. Bolva paid no mind to this minor detail, but strode out the door without looking back.

The street was also empty of life. A cart lay abandoned in the middle of the cobblestone road. The horse and rider were no where to be seen. "It seems that I'm expected," Bolva said to himself.

He knew the path he had to take. It was simply a matter of going to the first cross street and turning south. Then all he had to do was head straight until he reached the gatehouse. Striding boldly down the middle of the cobblestone street, with his robes streaming behind him Bolva moved quickly.

Bolva met no one until he came within sight of the gatehouse leading out of town. A voice boomed out from the parapet above, "Hold in the name of Duke Thomas."

Bolva ignored the command and headed for the tall, wooden doors that were closed and bared against him. A hail of arrows clattered down around him. One missile struck the cloth over his right shoulder and bounced off with no effect. A dozen soldiers dressed in chain mail materialized out of the darkness ahead of him and charged straight at him, pikes leveled at his heart.

The red mage waited till they were less than ten feet from him before reacting. "NA SHOO!" he shouted and clapped his hands together. There was a sound like a clap of thunder and the soldiers were sent flying in all directions like leaves in a windstorm. Bolva calmly walked past the stunned soldiers without a second glance.

The doors loomed over him as he stepped up to the gatehouse. Bolva inspected the doors for a moment and then hit them with both fists. The doors shattered as if they had been made of paper and string instead of wood and steel. He stepped over the wreckage into the passage connecting the inner and outer doors. Arrows, spears, javelins and stones rained down onto him as

boiling water splashed over him. A hundred types of death rained down on him, but Bolva calmly kept walking as if it was nothing more than a mild summer shower. The outer doors fell before him as easily as the inner ones had. In a moment the mage was outside the town walls and headed for the countryside. Behind him horns were blowing and bells ringing alarm but he paid them no mind.

Bolva was scarcely a quarter mile down the road when the clattering of hooves on the paving stones behind him warned of approaching cavalry. "It seems these Metamoran do not give up easily."

The leader of the horseman was a tall, masculine wolverine who brought the ten cavalry under his command to a halt some twenty feet away. "Hold right there," he said pointing a lance at Bolva. "Hold in the name of Duke Thomas."

The mage laughed "I, Primarch Bolva do not recognize that barbarian weakling."

The cavalry officer lifted the visor of his helmet and stared at Bolva carefully. By the way the wolverine sat in the saddle it was obvious that he was an old, and very experienced soldier. He didn't answer Bolva's pronouncement but just pointed at his enemy with a lance point. Then he lowered his visor and readied to charge.

The mage waved his right hand down towards the ground and shouted, "FALU MOLANTU!" A wall of flame suddenly rose out of the ground between him and the cavalry. Bolva turned and walked off without bothering to see the effects of his spell. Behind him he could here the roar and crackling of flames intermingled with screams panic and pain.

For the rest the night he wasn't disturbed by anyone else.

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The column hadn't changed in spite of all the intervening years since he had seen it last. The tall, gray, stone stood amidst a grove of ancient trees. A figure waited next to the stone without moving. Bolva was glad to see that it was the mechanical fox. When he came close to the metal animal he noted the traces of blood on the metal muzzle.

"You've followed all my commands?" the mage asked.

"Yes sir," Madog answered.

"Good. Were you followed?"

"No sir I was not," the automaton answered.

"Fine. Follow me. We have a long way to go," Bolva said and started walking away from the column. Madog fell into step at his side. Bolva was pleased with himself, everything had gone as planned. He strode off without looking back.

Behind them a figure slowly rose from its hiding place among some brush and moved in the direction Bolva had taken. It paused for a moment at the column and with a piece of chalk drew something on the stone. Then the unknown person followed after the mage and the automaton.

Forward to Part 4
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