Meena wasn’t surprised to find Ceekra standing at the bow of the ship, nose twitching into the wind as they sailed over the waters towards the newly refound Innothule swamp. The dark elf was unhappy to see clouds underneath her instead of water, but the ratonga seemed to take to flying as she took to every other adventure; with great enthusiasm. The young warrior had clamboured out onto the bowsprit and was easily balanced out on the wooden pole even with clanking armour and a small arsenal adorning her. Her tail was twitching in the wind, seeming to indicate joy as much as counter balance. Meena once again reaffirmed to herself what a complete and utter nutter her partner was. She sighed, best friend really. How had she fallen so far to be friends with a grub eating rat?

Ceekra’s ears turned as Meena stopped and her head turned to follow. She gave a bucktoothed grinned. “This is GREAT!” She turned and bounded back down the pole to the deck. Two of the gnomish sailors stopped their rope knotting to give an applause. Ceekra gave them a proud bow.

“Great is not the adjective I would have chosen,” Meena replied through gritted teeth. With every clang and bang she expected the giant metal fans to stop turning and for the ship to plummet into the ocean before. The gnomish Captain had chittered something about the giant balloon sausage over their heads not letting them fall, but Meena was entirely too familiar with Gnomish technology and ability to believe him. Surely in a city full of magi there had to be a safer and more sensible way to travel.

She hadn’t been surprised that Darus had also fallen in love with the ship at first glance. A follower of Bristlebane he could go from cheerfully cutting people into small cubes on a table to bouncing around making rum references and saying ‘Yar, me harties’ with a strange accent. The gnomes seemed to like him. In fact, the only one the gnomes didn’t seem to like was her and that was probably because she’d threatened to turn the cabin boy into a cabbage if he touched any of her belongings. “Couldn’t you turn him into something useful? Like a camel? Or an elephant or..” She’d shoved the mate out the door and bolted it. Really, all she could actually have done was murder the little snot an animate his corpse to tap dance on the deck until the Innoruk forsaken thing blew up in a typical gnomish accident.

Darus slipped up beside her and took her secondary hand in his own. He turned her to look off the port side. “Thar she be,” he said simply.

“ooooh.” Ceekra emoted, scurrying across the deck to look down at their destination.

Meena didn’t see what the fuss was about. Huge cliffs, waterfalls, swamps, lost civilization of a bunch of mud eating frogs and trolls and she was here why exactly? She spotted the dock as the ship came about. “We’re landing up there?” she snarled at the nearest gnome.

“Yup!” he said cheerfully. “That’s where our base is! Best ale this side of Guk!”

“It’s the only ale..” she trailed off as she realized she’d walked right into the gnome’s point. Darus turned his head, she was sure, so she wouldn’t see his smirk. “A whole village full of gnomes?” Meena asked with a wince.

“Oh no, we have tall people too. And scaley people. And tailed people. And furry people. Pretty much anyone who wants to explore the ruins and dig up fun stuff, they’re all there.” The gnome sailor was happy to explain with grand gestures and sweeping hands.

“And how do you keep the peace?” Meena asked with raised eyebrow.

“Oh, well, anyone we don’t like, we shoot out of a canon.” The gnome sailor replied with a solemn nod. “Well, actually, we shoot those we do like out of canons too, but we aim those ones better. We try not to feed those we like to the crocodiles.”

“Oh, well, as long as you try,” Meena muttered between ground teeth. She wondered how upset the Overlord would be if she blasted the sausage balloon on her way off and sent the ship and crew to be eaten by crocodiles. Someone in Qeynos would probably declare active battle over it for poisoning the crocodiles and she would lose rank and standing for the resulting conflict with stupid people which was always a terrible waste of resources. Stupid tree hugging druids, even Freeport was infested with them.

She was starting to think of tossing the sailor overboard anyway as he went on, and on, and on, about the wonders of the colony when the finally bumped up to the dock and gnomes swarmed about tying things together. Meena ignored them all as she descended to her cabin, grabbed her pack and handed it to the zombie she’d animated before they left the coast. He didn’t even smell too bad yet. She strode back up onto deck with the undead human behind her. He’d been a sailor before she’d found a better use for him, she supposed it was only fair he’d gotten one last trip on a vessel.

Darus and Ceekra clamboured up after her and followed her off the ship. Like docks anywhere they were accousted by urchins wanting errands for coin, cheap merchants trying to unload cheaper merchandise and all sorts of dockside lollies. The ocean may be a five minute fall underneath the cliff, but there was still plenty of things the same as the ocean side docks of Freeport. “The next person to come within grabbing distance of me will become my porter’s partner.” Meena said in a voice meant to carry across the caverns of House dinners. Even the silliest of gnomes decided to leave her alone.

Ceekra sighed, “You take all the fun out of this sometimes.”

Meena rolled her eyes. “You and Darus can go exploring while I go investigating where we’re going and how we’re getting there. Try not to get yourself killed.”

Ceekra snickered, “Haven’t yet.. and with an inquis tailing me, I think I should be fine.”

Meena sighed and continued to where the Captain had claimed the best inn ever had rooms waiting for them. Of course, considering the shanty colony, it was probably the only inn. She looked dubiously up at the crumbling rock steps that looked older than her clan and climbed up them carefully. She had no plans on breaking her neck before she had broken the neck of the current Queen of Neriak and taken her place.

Ceekra and Darus, of course, just ran up them without care or consideration of consequence. She was surrounded by idiots.

Meena slipped into the court with a Ratonga. She wasn’t quite sure one of the rat people had ever been allowed in Lucan’s court before, but be damned if she was travelling through a room of backstabbers without her meat shield. A few years ago she would have laughed herself silly if someone would have told her she would consider a rat half her size with axes protection, these days she knew how fast one of those rats could move. Besides, Ceekra’s eyesight was better than her’s.

The court, guards and courtiers alike, were mostly human. Lucan only kept the beautiful people around himself and that meant humans and dark elves out of his available citizenry. Oh, there were a few traitorious elves of the light in the city of Freeport, but no one with a healthy sense of paranoia really trusted THEM to any degree and Lucan was supposedly one of the most paranoid of paranoids to have ever existed. Meena wasn’t sure she agreed with that rumour, she’d met the self-declared queen of Neriak.

She made her way through the throng in court gear and ignored the lusty glances of the unrefined humans. Really, like she had the time of day for one of the short lived, barbarious round ears. They were hairy and smelled foul. She’d sooner stroke up to one of the walking cats at least they had a proper appreciation for how one should hunt and play. There were mutters and glares at Ceekra, but Meena ignored them and Ceekra seemed oblivious as she craned her head around like a ten year old child at a fair. Meena tried not to sigh, at least her partner was dressed for the part in the nice shiny armour her cricket cookie eating friend had made for her.

She walked past the empty throne she’d never heard of the Overlord using and into his office. The large desk was piled with scrolls and papers and looked ignored. The Overlord of the city was pacing back and forth in front of the wall-window. His dark elf, necromancer, lover was no where to be seen. Meena was glad, she couldn’t understand how anyone, especially a necromancer who was familiar with the energies of death, could cozy up to a walking corpse. No matter how powerful, intelligent, or ambitious the walking corpse was, it was still a walking corpse. She bowed carefully, letting the Overlord get a good look at her spider silk covered cleavage. Ceekra gave a surprisingly graceful cursty for a being with a tail in full plate armour.

He studied the pair for a beat of Meena’s heart before seeming to accept Ceekra’s presence. “There is tell of an allaince between frogs and Trolls. Investigate.” He picked up a scroll and tossed it to her. Ceekra grabbed it out of the air and handed it to Meena. The warrior was more likely to survive a trapped scroll for all that Meena was more likely to sense it. The dark elf unscrolled it to find notes written in several different hands and a crude map. She was too young to be familiar with land that the new map had been drawn over, but she could only assume it was pre-cataclysm.

Personally, Meena thought the only thing Trolls would do with Frogloks was cook them over an open fire. “I live to serve,” Meena answered. It happened to be the truth as long as she didn’t have to identify what she served.

“A gnomish ship will be leaving from the main docks north of the city tomorrow at dawn. I suggest you be on them.” The Overlord turned back to his view, obviously dismissing the two females.

Meena managed not to roll her eyes. He couldn’t have sent this with the messenger instead of hauling them all the way out here? She bowed again and swept out of the room back into the gossiping court. She gave the scroll to Ceekra to tuck away as her own court gear didn’t exactly leave a lot of room for storage of things beyond garotts and razor thin daggers. Ceekra didn’t even glance at the scroll before putting it in the belly pouch she kept under her breastplate. Meena wasn’t convinced Ceekra could read very well anyway.

She ignored the people who tried to get her attention and was as happy to leave the smokey court as quickly as she had entered. Really, why did anyone think any with power would hang around on the skirts? You entered, you did your business, you left and went on with your life. Trying to scrape together the scraps was just the work of the weak.

She lost her stride when she saw the dark elf who was leaning against the archway across from the entrance to the Overlord’s tower. Eyes narrowing she crossed the courtyard, noting in the back of her brain the brat who tried to whine about his father was absent and silent for the first time since his father had been arrested all those years ago. Begging for money and opportunity the little snot tricked many an adventurer into their own deaths. “Darus.” Meena said when she reached conversation distance, “Do tell me what you’re doing here.”

Her current lover smiled, “Why my dear, you rushed off to court so quickly I was worried that something had befallen our city.”

What could befall Neriak that hadn’t befallen it a hundred thousand times before over the centuries? Really, you think the man could come up with a better excuse. Unless he actually did give his loyalty to Freeport. You could never tell with the low born, they were all a bit strange upstairs having no real manners or house to belong to. “I hope you didn’t kill the messenger, the Overlord does so frown on the waste.”

“A bit singed, a bit bloody, but home safe and mostly sound.” He stopped and considered while Meena raised an eyebrow, “Well, as sound as Gnomes ever get. He was muttering something about catapults as conyences.”

Meena’s eyebrow managed to gain height as Ceekra clapped her paws, “Now that DOES sound fun!” Both dark elves turned disapproving looks down on the little bezerker. “Riiight, go fetch the muffins Ceekra.” she muttered and turned to clank off in the direction of the inn she and Meena often frequented.

Darus ran a finger down Meena’s cheek to regain her attention, “The spirits say you will need a healer. I am going with you.”

Meena breathed heavily out of her nose. While he was fun to play with, she wasn’t quite sure she was up to the babysitting.

“I know you and the rat have faced dangers untold without a third, but something that Overlord hauls you over for on no notice and dismissed you again mere minutes later, is something that I think you should consider taking back up along on?”

“Oh?” Meena asked, curling a lock of his hair around her finger. Perhaps someone to keep her warm in the swamps wouldn’t be all bad.

“It was important enough for you to be needed right away, dangerous enough that he summons two of the city’s strongest freelancers, and doesn’t have enough information to give you a proper briefing. Not to mention, it doesn’t seem the Overlord wants anyone to know where you’re going or why since he summoned you to give you the not-information.” Darus leaned into her, “So, I think I am fairly safe in thinking you will need me.”

Too bad he couldn’t be stupidly handsome and flexible. She’d come to all those conclusions on her own, but she’d wanted a third who could be more easily tricked out of his share of the fame and fortune on the successful completion.

Darus breathed into her ear, “You need me.” he repeated.

Meena sighed, “I know.” She shoved him off her, “Well, we need a healer, and since you’re volunteering I suppose you’re one up on the healer I’d have to track down.” She wasn’t quite sure a cleric of Bristlebane was her best option, however, especially when she wasn’t sure on the sanity of a low born dark elf who chose the mischiefmaker as his god instead of Bertox or Innoruk. Still, he was smart, he was sexy and he was here.

“Come on then, I suppose we should go rescue the baker from Ceekra’s ideas of travel preparations.” She pulled a small bone whistle from her cleavage and blew into it, producing no sound, but giving off magical energies. Her nightmare steed shifted in, sparks of fire at its impatient hooves. Meena hauled herself up before offering a hand up to Darus and helping him up onto the saddle pad behind her.

“The rat walks, you ride?” He asked, seemingly amused.

“The rat isn’t in four inch spiked bootheels.” Meena grumbled, “SHE gets to looks sensibly barbaric, I get to look like a fashion piece.”

“And a very tasty one at that.” Darus agreed, wrapping his arms around her waist.

The Nightmare snorted its disgust before turning and heading its way up to the inn. The fact it bounced Darus against the rear of the saddle several times in a half-trot were probably pure coincedence.

Meena was very much enjoying the dark elf’s lips on her neck when Ceekra came bounding into the room. Meena shoved the man away and slipped down off the table, already grabbing her robe. The male was smart enough to just sigh and let her go.

“Yes?” She said strapping the robe on and grabbing her belt. Components and dagger fell into place. If she had a choice between clothing and weaponry; mystical and magical, she’d have chosen the weaponry. She’d gone into battle naked, she wouldn’t go into battle with out a way to battle. Hand to hand combat was just so messy.

“The Overlord is summoning you. His messanger is outside.” Ceekra gave the dark elf male, who was mostly dressed in his armour even if his hair was disarayed, a sympathetic glance before following her partner out. He’d learn quickly that he was going to take a very far backseat to power and magic, no matter how fun his ears might be to play with. Or at least that’s what Meena had said, Ceekra was more partial to tails.

The gnome who was waiting in the forecourt looked like he’d blown himself up a few times. It was Meena’s experience that the race wasn’t well known for its ethics or wisdom. They would serve just about anyone who would provide them with a lab and tools. She took in the singed uniform of the Freeport Messenger Service with a raised eyebrow and waited for the fish bait to speak.

“His Lord Lucan D’Lere has requested the precense of the mage Meena of house Le’Dre at his earliest convience.” The Gnome rattled off the message in a high speed spurt.

“Idiot.” Meena cuffed the messenger, “You’re supposed to say MY convienence.”

“Your convience IS his convience.” The gnome protested, glaring up at her with bloodshot eyes.

“Of course, stupid, but there is the.. oh, nevermind, why am I explaining protocol to YOU?” she turned to Ceekra, “I suppose we return home sooner that expected.”

Ceekra’s tail bounced twice in excitement that she’d been automatically included. She’d always wanted to meet the Overlord. She wasn’t really in awe of him in the founding father kind of way, but she heard he was all sorts of powerful and really quite scary. She ruffled her fur in anticipation. Maybe she could learn some of his tricks and become scary too.

The two women used their rings of citizenship to return to Freeport. After the sparkles of their disappearance had cleared the Gnome started rummaging through his packs for his own way home. He wasn’t quite sure he wanted to test the matter transferance device again, it was probably safer to use his own citizenship ring. While safer wasn’t always fun, there was something to be said for surviving to experiment another day.

A dark hand placed itself on his arm and he looked up to a white toothed grin of malevolance. “I think you and I need to talk about why you’re here and where the lovely lady Le’Dre is going.”

“I don’t know nothin’!” the gnome squeeked.

“Oh, of course you don’t,” the leather clad elf purred, hand tighetening as he turned and hauled the gnome easily back towards the keep. They’d be perfectly uninterupted up on the heights at this time of day.

The messenger knew he should have just used the transferance device after all.

For Louchan

* * *

“Tell me a story!” bounced the shaman.

“Aren’t you a little *old* for bed time stories?” Meena grumbled, looking up at the furclad high elf. Really, his fashion sense left a lot to be desired!

“Twice your age and three times as wise.” He agreed, rocking back and forth on his heels.

Meena stuck her nose back in the book and managed to ignore the light elf for all of about three minutes.

“FINE.” She said to the bouncing shaman. Maybe if she told him this ’story’ he would go away. Knowing her luck, it would just encourage him. “Once upon a time there were three elves.” she started.

“Giggity!” the shaman said with glee and scrambled over to the nearest chair and sat, legs crossed underneath him. He settled hand on chin and watched Meena with fascination.

She closed her eyes for a moment and gritted her teeth. Really, for the eldest of elders, you’d think his mother could have installed some manners. “One elf was a tree-hugger, one elf was a city builder, and the third elf was a shadow weaver.”

“What’s a shadow weaver?” was the immediate question into her pause for breath.

“Shut up and you’ll find out,” Meena growled. Really! Would she actually have to go down to the kitchens and fetch a wooden spoon or a frying pan or something to discipline him with?

“K!”

Deep breath in, deep breath out, remind self you couldn’t kill them all until you got what you wanted from them. “The tree hugger spent all his days dancing and prancing in the forest and got nothing done. When the collapse came, his forests were burned, his people destroyed and he had to go live with the humans.

“The city builder locked himself away amongst his bricks and minnerets and tried to build a city that looked to be spun of sugar and magic. He too did not notice the world’s changes and developments since he was so involved unto himself. Then the collapse happened and his city was buried along with his people and he had to crawl away to live with the humans.

The high elf blinked at her in fascination for the story, shifting from side to side.

“Finally, the shadow-weaver, the dark elf, had been manipulating events all along. A little bit of hate here, a little bit of disease there, a little bit of chaos, and a lot of darkness. When the collapse came not only did the city of weavers stay safe beneath the earth, but the dark elves were the chosen in the new world order and ruled from the side of the lich king.”

She looked at the high elf expectantly. “Uhm.” he offered.

Meena sighed, “The morale being every elf but those of innoruk are blind!” It was obvious!

The shaman got to his feet, shaking his head, “No offense, but your story kind of sucks.”

Meena watched him go off to bother someone else. The bonus of the situation here was he wouldn’t be bothering her again and he proved the story all in one gesture.

The shaman bounced on the balls of his feet a couple times. “So, tell me another story!”

Meena cursed.

Maybe this is why Jeph’s never healed me? *inno*

* * *
Meena was gritting her teeth, the pencil between her teeth was creeking as she ground into the wood. She wasn’t actually using it for anything other than tooth guard since she much preferred to work in ink. It was probably for the best since she finally snapped it and her temper.

“For the hate of Innoruk, it’s G-F-G repeated THREE times, not G-F-E!” Meena snarled over her shoulder, down the stairs to where the would-be bard was mangling the song on the mandolin.

“Oh, so now you’re a bard, too?” Came the overly cheerful voice from the other side of the table.

Meena glared between the stacks of books. “Look, tree hugger..”

“Yes, corpse kisser?” The cheerful voice replied.

Meena’s eyes narrowed as her mouth actually rose into a snarl. Bad enough she’d had to make nice with a Qeynosian guild to get access to the books she needed, but worse she had to sit and share the knowledge with the dreaded enemy. “Show respect for your betters!” Meena finally snarled, standing as she slammed her hands down on the table. Several books books jumped and slid off the table from the abuse.

A faerie like giggle, “Show me my better and I shall,”

“You’re laughing at your own funeral, root chewer!” Meena snarled, looking down at the wood elf who seemed perfectly happy to not look up from her herbal.

“Oh, don’t worry,” green eyes looked up over the page, dancing with amusement, “I wouldn’t have the poor taste to die anywhere where near *you*.. Tunare knows what you’d do with my body.”

“I’d say feed it to the maggots, but I’d hate to poison them!” Meena thumped back down in her chair and picked up the tome once more. She managed to find the larger piece of pencil and started chewing on it once more.

It was several minutes before she realized the druid across the table was humming under her breath. Humming the song the minstrel downstairs was back to butchering. Salt in the grave, the wench was counterpointing the incorrect melody!

“THAT’S IT!” Meena yelled, getting back to her feet, “CHoose your second, Green elf!”

“I don’t need a second, Inkie!” The elf bounced to her feet, “Courtyard?” she asked with a pointed smile.

“After you!” Meena replied happily, she would wipe the floor with this ignorant little leaf kisser.

“Oh no, my dear, after *you* .. When’s the last time you heard of a Tunarean stabbing someone in the back?” Bat of long blonde eyelashes.

“Last week.” Meena said. “Fine, you take the portal on the 2nd floor, I’ll take the one in the crafting hall.”

“Perfect.” The other woman agreed and they marched off in seperate directions.

* * *

The first time the keep rocked and there was the sound of exploding rock, the guild members just assumed the alchemy lab had been abused. The second time, especially when it was accompanied by a girlish scream of pain, caused the majority of the inhabitants of the keep to rush out into the courtyard.

Even in a few minutes of battle, there was a mess to behold. The spirit dragons that once graced the mighty pedestal were currently being held off by two treants. The cobblestones had been ripped and torn asunder by roots battling rats, the druid portal stones had been half knocked over by a skeletal hand out of the ground, and the wizardly portal was a small smoking crator.

Trees were uprooted and walking, surrounded by attacking insects. All sorts of remains were wrapped up in the anger of nature. A small tornado whipped through the courtyard and caught the dark elf in mid-cast.

“Five plat on Jeph!” was the first comment out of the stunned audience.

“Hate, I’ll take that and add four for the new comer!”

“I’ll match and meet!”

Quickly coins of all sorts were piled up and put into safekeeping as they watched the duel of mage and priestess continue. Several times they had to rapidly move where they were because the festivities came their way.

“LADIES!” The voice bellowed through the courtyard.

The combatants and audience alike turned, stunned, to view the warrior who stood on the steps of the main door to the keep. Several of the keep’s servants hid behind him.

A gesture had them trot forward with wheelbarrows full of buckets, stones, grey dust.

Eyes narrowed at the two women who were busy trying not to look at each other. “Start rebuilding. NO MAGIC.” he growled.

He strode down the steps, “As for you lot,” he started at the audience, “You all should know better.” He picked up the stack of coin, “But thank you for the donation to this month’s tithe pool.”

Turning on his heel, the tall and broad warrior strode back up the steps.

“Well, DAMN.” Muttered the gnome, shoving his sunglasses back up his nose, “Atan wins again.”

Just for Draad

* * *

The Erudite looked down, way down, at the little cream coloured Ratonga that was holding something up at him. “What is that for?” he asked, eyebrow ridge raised.

Ceekra wasn’t sure how any being with no fur or tail could try and look superioristic. Too tall, too hairless, and just like Meena, to absorbed in the mental world to even recognize things when offered. “It’s a cookie,” Ceekra repeated, “You eat it.” Really, you’d think any being that could read languages dead before humans were born would know what to do with a cookie!

“I know it is a cookie,” the wizard said with a long suffering sigh, taking the offered tidbit, “My query was..” He trailed off and shook his head. “Nevermind. Thank you for the cookie.”

Ceekra gave a happy ratty smile, “You’re welcome Mr Wizard!” and gave him a sketchy, if enthusaistic, bow, before running off to find the next person to give one of her cookies to. Boy, she hoped everyone liked the recipe.

Draadaest sighed at the cookie and took a bite out of it, more to dispose of it than anything else. It was strangely crunchy, with an odd texture. He peered at the snack suspiciously and realized there were grasshopper bits in the mix. He fished a bit of leg out of his teeth with the nail of his pinky and wondered if he could toss it in the fountain without a certain Barbarian warrior tracing it back to him.

He heard a sniffing by his elbow and turned to see a Sarnak trying to figure out what it was. “Here,” he said handing over the confection with relief. “I think this will be more to your tastes than mine.”

The Sarnak tossed the three-quarter cookie into his maw and chomped down happily. “Yum!” he grumbled, “Draad good cook.” He added socialably.

Draadaest shuddered slightly at the thought. “No no, you should find the little mouse in armour and thank *her* for the delicious biscuit.”

Grakus nodded happily and turned on tail to sniff down the creator of yummy cookies. The Wizard mumbled to himself in irritation, really, he was surrounded by books, you’d think even those that thought with their axes could figure out he was trying to get some work done!

Meena looked down her nose at the strangely carved goards that were lining the path near the jeweler’s. “What in Innoruk’s name is this? A harvest festival?”

Ceekra, while much newer to the city, was much quicker to learn about other cultures than her dark elven partner. Meena had a very limiting “If it’s not Nerikian, it’s crap!” attitude. “Pumpkin.” The ratonga offered, tail twitching across the cobblestones in amusement.

Meena closed one eye to give Ceekra a hairy eyeballed look. “I know what the fruit are. I am querying why they are sitting around rotting on the streets.”

Ceekra’s tail was dancing her amusement, her ears being very careful to sit still. Meena was quick to pick up on expression of whiskers and ear, but she seemed to miss the tail. Silly, limited dark elf, how could she miss such a wonderful thing? “I do believe it is part of a human celebration. I would think you would know of it, being it celebrates death.”

Meena stopped with a frown, stepping to the edge of the street. It was dripping rain so there wasn’t a lot of traffic, but the messengers of the Overlord weren’t much to getting out of the way of fools who stood in the middle of the road to chat. She pointed at one of the pumpkins, it’s leering face flickering from the candle within. “How does fruit have anything to do with death? Besides the whole rotting, sweet stinking mess of it?”

Ceekra gave a rodenty smile, “The last day of this month, to the humans, is the day the veil between life and death is at it’s thinnest. Some celebrate this day, some make offerings to keep the dead happy, some just remember their dead..” Ceekra looked left and right, as if she wouldn’t have smelt someone coming up on them, even in the rain. Her voice lowered, “They say in Qeynos the human parents.. they all send their children begging in the streets for candy, and if you don’t give it to them, they can play *tricks* on you.”

Meena looked at Ceekra for several long moments, not sure if the Ratonga was mocking her or not. While Ceekra *could* tease, her information was unusually reliable. “What a load of rot and nonsense. The veil is the veil. It weakens or grows depending on where you are, not what the sun is doing.” she snorted, shaking her head and sending the drips off her hood flying. “Humans are so stupid.”

“The Overlord is human and supports these festivities.” Ceekra pointed out.

Meena wasn’t quite sure if her partner was trying to caution her, or just trying to extend the conversation. Ceekra was the chatty sort and Meena really wasn’t. The two may go forth to find things treasures and compenants together, but that didn’t really mean Meena much wanted to have tea with the rat. Even if they lived in the same house. She sighed, “The Overlord is no mere human, he never was.. and of course he supports the ways of the most numerous of his people’s. It costs him nothing and gains him much. What do any other race care? It’s silly, but it costs us nothing.”

Ceekra wasn’t quite sure the Overlord was that generous, but she also wasn’t as sure that he oversaw as much of his empire as the necromancer seemed to believe he did. She noticed Meena had started to stride towards the jeweler’s once more and scurried to catch up. She caught the door as Meena opened it and followed the mage inside.

The merchant behind the counter, possibly one of the jeweler’s kin, possibly just one of his hirelings, was a half-elf and was dressed to look like a zombie. Ceekra wished she’d been in front of Meena to see the expression on the dark elf’s face upon seeing THAT. Ah well, she might hear about it later.

Meena pulled out a bag from within her robes and placed it on the counter. Meena tended to carry their wealth. Either female was more than able to protect it, but the necromancer recieved far fewer challenges. “Put it on account.”

Meena didn’t trust the Overlord’s banks. When the Overlord’s army needed money, sometimes funds went missing. The jeweler, however, always knew where his products came from. Most Dwarves served the Antonican witch queen and most gems and ores went their way. Ceekra thought any coin not in paw was gone, so why worry? Perhaps its why Meena insisted on handling most of their finances of hearth and home.

Ceekra was peering at the displays while Meena dickered with the half-bred. Ceekra wasn’t quite sure what it mattered if one’s parents weren’t matched, but it apparently mattered a great deal to the bigotted elf. She shoved that thought aside when she spotted something with. “Meena!” she called.

Meena sighed and rolled her eyes before turning her head. Really, the little furry warrior was worse than a magpie sometimes. What shiny thing had caught her attention now? She walked over to where Ceekra pointed and raised an eyebrow and slowly smiled. “You’re right, I do like it.” She tapped on the glass, “I will take that.”

The merchant seemed amused and unlocked the case to pull out the necklace and handed it over. It was a silver elven skull with rubies for eyes on a silver rope chain.

The two mercenaries finished their business and left the shop, back into the dreary Freeport rain. “Hmm,” Meena mused, “Maybe this human celebration isn’t all bad. It does bring out some pretty things.”

Ceekra snorted, only a necromancer would think a silver skull with glowing red eyes was ‘pretty.’ But she was happy the Necromancer had liked the find, a happy Meena was a much easier Meena to live with.

Ceekra scrambled out of the den and stretched under the moon. Feeling the presence she whirled in the shadow to face the being behind her. She was surprised to see one of the inked skinned dark elves so close to the Ratonga dens, dressed in dark scarlet robes and head fur in a no nonsense tail. It seemed to many of the inkies went for the impractically eloborate. The female seemed to be amused by something.

Looking down, she asked. “Do you have hands?” the voice was serene, if cold.

Ceekra held up her paw like hands. “Kind of?” She asked back in as simple of human as she knew. She’d tried to learn it, planning on leaving the warrens for the human world, but there weren’t a lot who knew it down below.

The female grasped Ceekra’s wrist and held it up, hurting Ceekra at the shoulder from the angle. Ceekra wrenched her arm free and grabbed one of her axes from her belt. The beat up bronze axe was dented and abused, but it held a very carefully sharpened blade.

The female dark elf sighed, “Not a hand.” she declared with disappointment and looked away over Ceekra’s head.

Elves were very strange creatures, Ceekra knew from legend and lore. “Why you need hand?” She asked, tucking the axe back in her belt and rubbing her arm.

The lavender eyes looekd down at her again. “That is my business ra-” she changed from saying rat, to ratonga at the last moment, “-tonga.” She suddenly smiled and crouched down to look Ceekra in the eyes. “Do you know your way through the pits to the battlegrounds, little one?” she asked sweetly.

Ceekra eyed her warily, she was small even for a Rotonga, and didn’t much appreciate being reminded of it. Of course, barely coming to this elf’s waist she could understand why the pointy-eared furless would think her small. “Yes.” she finally answered simply.

The Dark Elf straightened and brushed non-existant debris off her robes. “Will you guide me?” she asked, wondering what the little furball would want in return.

Ceekra held still, not even her tail twitching. While chances were the elf would try to kill her at some point throughout the night, she had the key to what she wanted. “You take me into city?” she asked.

A raised eyebrow as the price was weighed. It wasn’t as if there weren’t enough of the little rats running around the city, but she wouldn’t imagine anyone of rank would be happy with another being added to their ranks. “I will get you within the gates.” was the compromise.

Ceekra nodded. “I Ceekra of Kitash warren.”

“And I am Meena Le’Dre of the seventh house.” She gestured for Ceekra to lead on. Titles of home equally meaningless to each, Ceekra nodded and scurried off to the west. While much more nimble than the mage behind her, Meena’s vastly longer legs made up the difference.

Only the burning Luclin was up in the night sky, though the stars seemed to shine more brightly once the hills hide the majority of Freeport’s lights from direct view. “Why battlefields?” Ceekra asked, sniffing the wind.

“The graveyards have been picked clean already.” Meena responded with a distasteful wrinkle of her delicate nose. “And no one has had the good taste to die recently.”

Ceekra decided, since she’d already been disqualified, “Why not take life hand?”

Meena sighed, “Because maiming citizens of Freeport would get me maimed in return.”

“Buy?” Ceekra asked, darting to check some bushes for spies before leading the mage on. The mage seemed to have no thought about enemies outside the gates, either she was very powerful or very new.

Meena shook her head, “I do not have that kind of money. I’m still an apprentice.”

Ceekra had heard that mages were trained for great lengths of time, being mostly self-taught she couldn’t really sympathize. But then, she’d never had two coppers to rub together either. Her armour and weapons were scavenged from the garbage pits and fallen enemy.

“I smell fruit.” Ceekra declared as they came to the valley that lead to the site of the last great battle between Freeport and the Tunarean forces.

“Fruit?” Meena echoed quietly, confused. It was early spring, the fruit trees were barely blooming. She sniffed, but whatever the sensitive rat nose was smelling was beyond her. She scanned the hills for warm spots but saw nothing.

Ceekra shrugged but pulled her axes out just in case, one in each hand she continued down the pass. She could only see shadows and shades of grey, but she trusted her companion’s red eyes to spot life before it appeared. She’d been to the battlefield many times to scavange, but never this late; dawn or dusk was the safest time.

It wasn’t long before they were picking their way between the half buried bones and bodies. Meena apparently needed a whole hand, because she would peer at bits, or dig for a moment and sigh. The two meandered their way farther and farther from the safety of the city.

A flash of yellow and red was the only warning Meena got to hit the ground as an archer broke cover and fired arrows at them. Ceekra found her tail yanked and herself hauled down. “Yeeeerp!” she squeeled and got her ear cuffed.

She shot Meena a dirty look and rubbed her skull. “We lie here till we get hit?” she asked with only slight sarcasm.

“The grass gives heat as well, it will blur our forms.” She sneered, “Assuming that’s a leaf eater up there.”

“Who else fire in dark?” Ceekra asked with logic. Night blind humans, barbarians, gnomes.. maybe a Dwarf could, but they weren’t known for their great ability with regular bows, and it wasn’t a bolt sticking out of the ground a few feet from her head.

“Good point.” Meena muttered, nudging her opinion of Ceekra’s IQ up several points. “Can we get to that rock cluster?” she gestured off to their right, away from the archer.

“Don’t know.” Ceekra couldn’t even see the rocks, she could only trust the elf’s superior vision. “I go, you follow.” Ceekra scurried off at a surprising rate.

“Right!” Meena hissed and scrambled after her, realizing how poor the rat’s vision truly was. “Left a bit!”

Ceekra found the rocks with her head as she barely batted an arrow from hitting Meena in the rump. “Son of Cazic!” she cursed, her head was going to be very abused by the end of the night!

“What now?” Meena grumbled, pulling out a short staff from her pack and extending it out into a more formadible weapon.

“We fight.” Ceekra said standing in front of the elf, “You do finger wiggle?”

Meena didn’t look too confident “I need to see them all to get them all. Too much death and life here to get a proper grasp of them.”

Black was white, green was red, and blah blah blah, was what Ceekra understood of the answer. Wouldn’t ‘No’ have been easier? She guessed it was up to her, the mage couldn’t be much of a warrior, she wasn’t wearing any sort of armour.

Ceekra deflected several more arrows out of the air with the flats of her axe blades before the enemy gave up and started to approach. Ceekra wasn’t surprised to see the blonde hair, angry eyes and war paint of the Tunarean scouts. She’d never seen one before, but she’d heard plenty of stories from maimed kin.

She trilled and waved her axes. “Come and get it!” was the clear message. Meena had to *see* to kill, well, she’d get them all out already.

The light elves weren’t as stupid as she hoped, they fanned out and looked ready to take prisoners rather than just come in for a clean kill. Probably could care less about a Ratonga, but a Dark Elf would probably make a good prize, no matter how low in rank. Oh well, one axe and a point was better than two axes.

With surprising ease Ceekra reached back and flung one of her battle axes into the forehaed of the archer. He went down without a scream, just a sickening thud and a crumple. Well, sickening to the Tunareans, the two Freeportians guessed from the reactions, it was nothing new to citizens of the Overlord.

The elves rushed forward with their strange war cries and Ceekra ducked under a curved blade to take it on her backplate, while she bit one elf on the side of the leg and smashed the flat of her blade into the mid-section of another. The latter reacted predicatbly with a yelp and jumped back.

She could feel her fur standing up, a sure sign of Meena gathering mystical energies. Surely she was a death mage and there was certainly enough death energy in this place! Especially with one of the wood elves bleeding brain matter into the ground.

One of the elves said something in his slippery language and gestured towards where Meena was, two advanced on Ceekra while the gesturer tried to go around her to the mage. Not a chance, Ceekra wasn’t going to let her ticket to the city bite it, especially since she could smell more fruit out there. These four were probably only part of the force out there.

Ceekra launched onto the back of the sneaky elf and whirled his head around so he stumbled into the female tree elf, who cursed and managed not to stick him with her sword. Ceekra cackled and used the elf as a spring board to launch herself at the third elf who had turned to see what the scrambled and squeeking was all about.

The Freeportian warrior buried her remaining axe into the throat of the third elf and barely managed to yank it free as she tumbled past. Twirling around to face the two remaining elves she thought she may actually have a chance, right up until six more stepped out of the shadows. “Cazic in a dress!” she cursed in Ratongan.

But Meena’s spell had finished and she yelled something in Dark Elf that made the Light Elves turn to run. Hands thrust out, green mist rose from the ground and Ceekra decided it was now a good time to get close to the caster. Bits of bone, debris and luminous green rose from the ground and surrounded the elves, causing them to clutch at their throats and fall to the ground coughing as sores broke out over their skin.

Meena half-fell to her knees, clutching at a rock for support. Ceekra rushed out to grab her thrown axe, carved the dead elf and then headed back to the mage. Shoving axes in belt, booty in pack, she grabbed Meena and half-carried the elf away from the battlefields and back towards the safety of the city.

After stumbling through the darkness and shadows for as long as it took the moon to pass a constellation, Meena called a stop. She crumpled to the ground and held her head in her hands as if those dainty digits were all that were holding it together.

Cykreea crooned concern and fished through the elf’s pack. The warren shamans had bars and drinks for times like this, and while the elf’s smelled more like nuts and honey than half-spoiled meat, it was obviously for the same purpose. She pressed the bar into the elf’s hand while she tried to locate the beaker of drink. She finally decieded the fruity-alocohol was the drink after opening several wine skins. Meena drank a quarter of the skin without pause.

The mage fell backwards on the grass and panted. “Oh, Innurok, that’ hurt.” she panted. She then scowled, “And I still don’t have my hand!”

Ceekra grinned and pulled the bloody hand she hacked off the wood elf out of her pack. She danced it to wave a hello.

Meena laughed, “My hand, and a report of spies to gain prestige, my dear little Ceekra-warrior, I think this is the start of a BEAUTIFUL friendship!”