Subj:	 [ffml] [MW] Hiel Keep
Date:	00-06-25 16:38:23 EDT
From:	skyhall@hotmail.com (Sky Hall)
Reply-to:	ffml@egroups.com
To:	ffml@egroups.com

  Tim stood, overlooking a map of Doma.
  “As near as we can figure,” said Ricca, “the moogles have mobilized their 
forces are pulling out of their garrison holdings and withdrawing to the 
county seats and fortresses. Some of them are marching against our men in 
the north.”
  Tim looked up at the Norlandese Captain. Despite weeks of fighting, 
managing over a hundred men, and being involved a score of engagements, the 
Captain looked as healthy and fit as when Tim had first met him.
  “We are here,” said Jayel, pointing to a place on the map. The battalion 
was hugging the eastern edge of Doma, sweeping out the moogle forces. This, 
the longest stretch of territory originally belonging to Doma, was probably 
the most difficult since it occupied the border. The battalion was northeast 
of Doma City and would still have a way to go before could even prepare to 
strike for the capital.
  “And Hiel Keep is here,” said Evan, pointing to a spot to the east of the 
battalion’s position.
  “When Hiel was built, the Baron of the county said it would take ten 
thousand men one year to defeat it,” said Jayel.
  “It took thirty thousand three months to take it once,” said Evan.
  “And five hundred shall take it one day,” said Tim. His voice cut through 
the air like a knife, no one spoke or could find words to utter in response.
  “At most, there are one thousand moogles in the keep,” said Tim. “At the 
least, one hundred or more. Hiel Keep is five stories tall and is a solid 
square building. It is perched atop a ridge overlooking the eastern pass, 
the main river, and much of the eastern lands. It holds the communications 
with the nations to the east, and it these nations that can aid our forces 
in the weeks to come. The sooner we take Hiel Keep, the better. And if we 
don’t take it, the keep will act as a rallying point for the moogle forces 
in the area.”
  “But how to take it,” said Evan, rubbing his chin in thought.
  The lieutenant considered himself the acting authority on fighting and 
attacking, in particular enemy strongholds.
  “The thirty thousand men took the keep against five hundred defenders by 
burning all the scrub grass on the hill and using the smoke to cover their 
assault. The keep was unharmed from the heat. But it’s not the dry season 
yet,” Evan mused.
  “It would take time to build siege engines, but we have the supplies to do 
it. But I am worried about moogles breaking our siege lines to reach the 
keep. We would have to build a line of defense both facing within and 
without, and we definitely do not have enough men to man it.”
  Evan sighed and closed his eyes, rubbing his face.
  “We have a weapon no one has thought of before,” said Tim. “Dragons.”
  Realization dawned on everyone’s face. “But how, sir? I mean, dragons are 
good, but they can’t damage stone as easily a man clad in armor,” said 
Ricca.
  “We can take oil and pour it from the roof down into the keep,” said Tim. 
“After a while, we can set it alight, and continue to feed the fire. The 
smoke would be bad for those on the roof, but worse for those within. The 
moogles would be flushed out by the flames and smoke.”
  “But sir, we would have to scour the countryside for barrels of cooking 
oil, and I know that cannot be had,” said Jayel. “Also, it would take at 
least a week to gather anything close to the amount we need.”
  Tim nodded, studying the map.
  “My lord,” said Ricca, staring at Tim.
  Tim looked up at the man. He could see the determination in Ricca’s eyes.
  “Let my rangers and I land on top of the keep. It’s roof is flat and has a 
few openings down. We are any match for the moogles and they cannot stop us. 
We will start at the top and work out way down, floor by floor, and force 
the moogles out. Even if they number more then us, they will be overcome 
with fear by us invading their keep that they shall run in terror.”
  Tim was silent for a moment, studying both Ricca and the map.
  “It sounds like a difficult plan, but it must be done, before the keep can 
be reinforced and made even stronger against our taking it,” said Tim. “We 
move tomorrow night. Ricca, prepare your men.”
  “Aye, sir,” said the Norlandese Captain.


--Sky


Subj:	 [ffml] [MW] The Coming of the Avariel (1/2)
Date:	00-06-26 21:56:55 EDT
From:	larathia@mcs.net (Larathia)
Reply-to:	ffml@egroups.com
To:	ffml@egroups.com

Nighthawk landed a safe distance from Cyan's enclave, where she could do
her work undisturbed. The news she had recieved was most disturbing, and
she would have only this one chance to change her planned tactics. She
watched and listened quietly from her chosen spot - a high ridge - and
concluded that neither moogles nor humans were near. There would be that
advantage at least; neither race could move as quietly as could her own.

She cast a sphere of silence, then a camoflage spell - quite tricky, since
she was unfamiliar with this world's emanations. Assured of privacy, she
reached into her bag of holding and drew out a specially prepared crystal
sphere. Setting it on the ground, she flicked it with her finger. It should
not have been able to, but it gave out a clear, bell-like tone, and it
didn't fade away. A ghostlike image of Lief took shape opposite her.

'Lief, summon the Council of Ten,' she said tersely. 'There must be changes.'

Lief saluted and bowed, then disappeared from view. Shortly afterward he
returned, with five white-winged avariel and five blue-winged avariel in
tow. One of the white-winged ones wore a circlet of gold. Nighthawk saluted
and bowed.

'Thank you, Majesty and Council. I must change the request for the flights
that are to be sent.'

The avariel king frowned. 'Nighthawk, it is true you have no shortage of
volunteers, but taking three hundred from our home defense cannot be but a
rash act. How will we fend off our enemies with such a depletion in our
defense?'

'Majesty, we've covered this. Our kin on this world cannot hope to hold the
gate if the humans fall to the moogles. The moogles are even more deadly a
threat than I had first observed; they must be stopped. To that end I MUST
change the rota of those who come.'

One of the blue-winged avariel leaned closer to the crystal. 'More deadly?
In what way?'

'They have mages. Worse, mages fluent in commanding the winds. We must
defend against the possibility of our powers turning against us.'

The king crossed his arms over his chest, a sure sign of annoyance. 'If
they are so deadly then, let us not fight them on their own turf! Let us
guard our side of the gate and destroy them as they come through - IF they
find it.'

Nighthawk glared. 'You cannot afford the risk, Majesty. The avariel are
under MY command; they follow *me*. I was given the charge of the security
of the nation; I *will* fulfill that charge. Call it treason if you like,
but know that it is by my actions you will live to call me traitor.'

The king did not rise to the obvious challenge; the threat stopped him in
his tracks. He growled, 'All right then, your foolhardy suicide venture may
go forward. I hope that some at least live to return home. What are your
demands?'

'Instead of 60 mages and 30 priests, I need 30 mages and 60 priests. I must
try to defend against whatever magic the moogles may use. The priests have
the best chance of succeeding.'

At this, the blue-winged avariel glanced at one another, then huddled
together briefly, talking in a low whisper. They turned back to the
crystal. 'You shall have your 60. May it save lives.' Then, as one, they
left the image.

The king looked upset, as if he hadn't expected the priests to agree. 'You
have won again, captain. You had better be right.'

Nighthawk smiled thinly. 'When have I been wrong, Majesty, in my centuries
of service? The gate is ready. Alert me when the flights are ready to move.
Time is short. The human king is near to breaking under the strain; I must
reach the field commander before that happens. Our integrity must not be
questioned.'

'Very well. I leave it to your warriors to arrange matters.' He gave
Nighthawk a brief nod, then strode from the vision with his entourage. Lief
gave a visible sigh of relief.

'Captain, that was very close,' he said.

'I do what I must, Lief. As we always do. How soon will they be ready?'

'A matter of hours. The switch of mage and priest numbers won't take long.
There will be a number of disappointed magelings though.'

'Tell them that they are given the chance to live, Lief. Even with the
added healers, I do not think we will survive this war.'

Lief nodded sadly. 'Smeauer has asked after you. May I send him through too?'

'As you will. He is well able to choose his own fate, familiar or no. Can
you hold the gate? I need rest.'

'I will hold the gate, my Captain. Smeauer comes.'

The crystal dimmed, and Nighthawk stared out over the ridge, entering the
altered state of mind that was the closest her kind ever got to sleep.
After a while, the crystal flashed - and she blinked. A small elf-cat,
given wings, had come into being.

'Hallo snuggles,' he said. 'Think you were going to play suicidal drama
queen without me?'

Nighthawk smiled and ruffled his fur. 'Of course not, my love. But do try
to show proper respect around the humans, all right? We must make sure they
respect us.'

'Oh, of course. Not a single intelligible peep will I utter in their
hearing. By the way, Lief says they're ready. Stand back."

One by one, avariel of all colorful description appeared by the crystal,
and quickly got out of the way. As more and more appeared, they organized
into groups of ten. Soon, the ridge was dominated by flying elves in every
color but white. Once the last had come through, Nighthawk flicked the
crystal again to quiet it, then put it back in her bag. She stood to
address the throng.

'My brave warriors, we have come here to strike a blow against monstrosity.
We are here to strike as hard as we can, that the moogle race remembers the
name Avariel with fear and loathing! We may well not survive to return to
the skies of home, but we know that for each one of us who falls, ten of
the foe fall with him!'

The avariel cheered.

'For our first fight, we must fight alongside old foes to combat new ones.
I bid you all to stand firm, though we fight alongside humans and dragons.
Know your strength! Rely on that strength, and fear no dragon!'

At this, there were no cheers, as the idea of fighting WITH dragons was
quite repugnant to most of the troops.

'You will see, my people. These humans, and their dragons, are trustworthy.
The moogles are just less-ugly orcs. Show me your fighting spirit! Let us
meet our allies by next sun-fall each wearing a moogle pelt!'

At this, the cheers broke out again, and the flights launched themselves
into the sky.

--------------------------
Larathia


Subj:	 [ffml] [MW] The Coming of the Avariel (2/2)
Date:	00-06-27 12:28:35 EDT
From:	larathia@mcs.net (Larathia)
Reply-to:	ffml@egroups.com
To:	ffml@egroups.com

High in the night sky, Nighthawk surveyed the lands for any sign of either
moogles on the move, or the standard of Tim. She wasn't at all pleased with
Cyan's decision to send her somewhere where she - and her people - would be
of little real use, and she knew quite well what Cyan's reasoning was.
Given how close he seemed to be to cracking, she didn't think she could
blame him for being so suspicious. It did amaze her that the man thought he
could afford not taking the risk of trusting her from the outset. Sending
her here accomplished very little, for very little risk on his part. Had he
sent her with a Doman force that would probably fall (by itself) against
moogles, he would have increased his personal risk in exchange for a much
greater reward - victory instead of defeat. Now victory was assured
victory, but he had little to show for it. And the Norlandese dragonriders,
while she knew them to be honorable from her scryings, were going to make
her people very very nervous.

Hiel Keep was sending copious amounts of smoke into the sky, making it a
beacon for her people to aim for. So, they would not arrive in time for the
battle. On the other hand, scanning the fields near the keep, she saw a few
ragged bands of moogles fleeing. Perhaps three hundred had managed to
escape their defeat. Well and good; her people needed to remind themselves
why they had come. She performed the aerial maneuver that alerted her
following troops to her signals, then summoned her thirty flight-captains
to her side.

'Do you see the white-furred creatures fleeing the smoking keep?' she
asked. As one, they looked and then nodded. 'Good. All of you, spread out
no thinner than two flights, and kill every single one. Take their hides.'

Her captains nodded and returned to their groups. Soon, the single mass of
avariel was scattered all over the sky, as they hunted down the fleeing
moogles and shot them. Within a few hours, there were no moogles alive as
far as she could see, and her people were on the ground busily skinning
them. She smiled. Shortly they were all back in formation, each holding a
fresh moogle pelt. Nighthawk surveyed the carnage left behind, and signaled
her flight-captains back again.

'They dirty the fields with their corpses,' she said. 'You, and you,'
indicating two captains, 'Go and put those carcasses somewhere they won't
crush the grasses.' They immediately nodded, signalled to their flights,
and set to work. Soon, the skinned moogles were serving as macabre
ornaments dangling from rocks and branches. Satisfied with their display,
she signaled the flights back again.


Subj:	 [ffml] [MW] Taking the Keep
Date:	00-06-28 04:19:26 EDT
From:	skyhall@hotmail.com (Sky Hall)
Reply-to:	ffml@egroups.com
To:	ffml@egroups.com

  The dragon soared through the air. The rider, Poli, gripped his lance in 
one hand, the reins
in the other.
  The Norlandese Dragon Riders were not as ancient as the kingdom itself. 
The group had a
date of origin, and stories preceding and following that told of 
interactions with “wild”
dragons. Even the legendary Bacca was known as a “Friend to Dragons.”
  The dragon Poli rode was named Thuska, and she was a young dragon, just 
barely fifty
years old. The tame dragons lived a few hundred years, though wild dragons 
supposedly
lived much longer. Thuska was sentient to a degree. She could express 
herself using different
sounds, such as grunt, snarls, whooping sounds, etc. And it was a common 
belief that dragon
and rider could, after a time, communicate with each other mentally.
  Thuska was the size of a hippotamus, though slimmer and much longer. Her 
shoulder and
Poli’s were at the same height when Thuska stood completely straight legged. 
But she
normally waddled about on bent elbows, bringing her lower. Her wingspan was 
as long as
her body.
(Dragon info follows, skip if you’ve seen “Flight of the Dragons”)
  The dragons were somewhat warm blooded, and unless magically 
raised/created, had fire
breath and noxious fume breath. They were able to fly due to consuming hard 
stone,
especially diamonds, and holding these in their gullet, and then consuming 
limestone and
other material to make methane gas, which they kept in separate stomach. 
Acids disolved the
stone and other matter, and created methane gas. Into this special stomach, 
a dragon could
inhale air and create a lighter then air mixture that helped the dragons to 
fly. When expelled,
it created noxious fumes, or fire breath when it touched Thor’s Thimble (a 
small nob on the
inside of the mouth).

  Poli and Thuska could see a few torches burning atop the stone keep of 
Hiel. There orders
were to clear the roof.
  Poli looked to his left and to his right, the other dragon riders were 
ready. Thuska dipped
her wings, banked, and then dove at the roof of the keep. The other dragons, 
at the signal,
banked and dove as well.
  Speeding downwards, the dragons made little sound as they neared the keep. 
Thuska
extended her clawed legs and opened her jaw slightly. The stones of the keep 
loomed closer
in the dark night, the torches setting off the boundaries.
  Poli could barely see, but he felt the impact as Thuska caught a moogle in 
her powerful
jaws. Immediately afterwards, she caught two other moogles in each forepaw. 
Crunching
down, Poli heard the snap and pop as Thuska bite down into the squirming and 
whimpering
moogle. The moogle in Thuska’s left claw suffered a similar fate, a loud 
“pop” issuing forth
as the claw squeezed tightly. The moogle in the right claw was impaled, more 
then seized by
Thuska’s claw. The moogle squirmed slightly and whimpered and cried at it’s 
pain.
  The dragons climbed into the air. Poli looked over and called out.
  “Did we get them all?”
  “Aye, sir,” said one man, who had been trailing behind on his dragon.
  A second wave of dragons had followed immediately after the first and they 
had stayed on
the roof after it had been cleared. A few rangers had been with them, and 
securing the roof.
A torch was waved about.
  At the signal, a third wave that had been circling swooped down. Each 
dragon carried two
men which were deposited on the roof. They soon departed.
  Poli had Thuska drop the moogles from her mouth and claws, and then fly 
over to the
landing field. There, the rangers were waiting their time to be picked up 
and taken to the
roof of the keep. Thuska picked up two in her front claws, the men wearing 
harnesses, and
she carried them over to the keep.

  Ricca strode around the roof of the keep, surveying the arrival of his 
men. When he was
satisifed with the number arrived so far, he split them up into four groups 
among the
lieutenants present. More rangers kept arriving.
  “Go!” called Ricca.
  Silently, the lieutenants hurried down the four stairways that led to the 
roof, carrying
torches and short swords. All the men were given extra daggers, and those 
not carrying
torches, helds daggers.
  Commotion erupted below, followed by the sound of crashing and then 
yelling and
screaming. The excitement and tension was building as more and more noise 
was made
below.

  Tim waited on the ridge as the dragons ferried men to the keep. His own 
men were
positioned in a large circle pattern about the keep. When the sounds of 
fighting reached
them, they quickly moved to close off the keep from escape. Tim was sure the 
moogles were
taken by surprise by this attack.
  “Now if we can just keep them from escaping to tell their brethern,” 
muttered Tim as he
mounted his chocobo and signaled his men to move out.

  As the sun rose warming the morning air, Tim took out a handkerchief and 
wiped his
already sweaty brow. Though it was cool, he had spent the past few hours 
chasing down
moogles and moogleboars.
  Studying the rising orb of light, Tim took a deep breath and enjoyed the 
radiance. He then
turned his chocobo to Hiel Keep and walked along at a gingerly pace.
  A while later, Tim dismounted before the keep and walked up to the mighty 
oak and iron
doors which lay open. From within the keep, Captain Ricca of the Norlandese 
Rangers
emerged, a bandage on his hand.
  Tim saluted the man, Ricca doing the same.
  “Captain, I present to you, Hiel Keep,” said Ricca.
  “Thank you, Captain Ricca,” replied Tim. “I thank you for your tremendous 
effort.” Both
men smiled at each other.
  Jayel came up on chocobo, and soon Evan joined them.
  “We chased down and took out every moogle we could find, sir,” said Jayel.
  “I think we got them all,” added Evan.
  Tim nodded. “Very well.”
  He surveyed the landscape.
  “Our men have fought hard these past few weeks, and this has been a very 
major trial. I
think it’s time we had a rest. Also, we’ll need to occupy Hiel Keep till 
replacements come.”
He turned to Ricca.
  “Have the dragons dispatch messages to the other battalions that we have 
taken Hiel Keep,
and to try, if they can, to force the moogles to come here. We’ll use Hiel 
Keep as an anvil to
smash their forces.” Ricca saluted and departed.
  “Evan, set up and clear out Hiel Keep of corpses and mooglestink, we are 
moving in.”
Evan smiled and saluted.
  “Aye, sir.”
  “Jayel, get your cavalry together and rest up those that need it. 
Afterwards, set up regular
patrols of the area.”
  “Yes, sir.”
  “Now, I’m going to see what the view is like from up top,” said Tim with a 
grin.
  Tim walked into the keep, inspecting carnage that lay inside.

  “Sir, I think you should see this,” said a lookout.
  Tim snapped out of his revere and looked to where the man pointed.
  To the west, several flying shapes could be made out, coming towards the 
keep. As time
passed, the shapes multiplied, showing at least a couple hundred flying 
figures.
  “What the devil?” asked Tim.
  Soon, the figures neared and stopped.
  “Whatever they are, I hope they are friendly,” said the lookout.
  Tim nodded silently to himself.
  “They look like angels,” said Tim. “But of mercy or of death...?”

--Sky


From: Larathia

Hiel Keep was a scorched mass, smoking from burning oil. Wary of the effect
open flame might have on her people's recently boosted morale, she
signalled them to hovor at tower level, facing only one side of the keep so
as not to alarm any occupants.

'Ho, the Keep!' she called. 'We come in parlay! We bear a message from your
king! We will await your messenger outside the gates!' Having done what she
could to get their attention, she bade her people land outside the Keep's
gates, so as to appear less of a threat, though she made sure they kept to
their individual flights. Thirty groups of ten now dotted the grounds
before the Keep.

Shortly therafter, a lone human, fully armed, left the confines of the
Keep. Seeing Nighthawk and her people, he headed towards them. To his
credit, he showed no fear, though she knew he could never have seen
anything like her people before. Glancing upward, she saw another human
outlined against the sky, where none had been before. *ah*, she smiled to
herself, *very wise.*

She nodded politely to the messenger, then said, "I am Nighthawk, Captain
of these avariel warriors. We have come from a distant world to aid in the
destruction of the Moogles, who stand poised to pose a threat even to our
own homeland. We have chosen to ally with King Cyan of Doma, who presented
us with this letter of marque to verify my words. It is at his request we
are here." Reaching her hand into her travel bag, she pulled out Cyan's
letter, still sealed. She handed it to the messenger, who quickly took it
and broke the seal. *ah, so this one is Tim,* she thought to herself.
*Brave, to come out alone, even with an archer on the walls.*

Tim scanned the letter quickly, smiling briefly at mention of his new rank
'to be conferred on the taking of the Keep'. As for the rest of the
message...Nighthawk's basic message was confirmed. Looking up from the
missive, he scanned the flying elves. No untrained soldiers here; though
they all carried both sword and crossbow or bow, they had the reflexes of
archers. Quite a formidable little force, and undoubtedly the source of
Cyan's uneasiness. "Welcome, Captain," he said pleasantly. "You will
understand that I don't quite know what to do with you at present. Where
would you be comfortable?"

Nighthawk smiled inwardly; no fool, this one. "We would most prefer the
battlements, if you don't mind," she said. "Assuming the dragons are
billeted elsewhere."

Now Tim was concerned; nowhere did the message say that Cyan had informed
her of the dragonriders, but still she knew. This tipped the scales of
knowledge unfavorably. Careful not to show any reaction, he said, "They are
billeted in the courtyards; you are free to use the battlements. You will
understand if you share the post with our own lookouts?"

Nighthawk nodded. "Of course. As an opening gesture of goodwill, my people
present you with these," and she signalled to her flight captains. Each one
approached to within ten paces and dropped a stacked white bundle on the
ground, then returned to his or her post.

Moogle hides, thought Tim. The avariel have given me *moogle hides*.
Thinking about where they might have encountered moogles, he counted the
skins - conveniently piled in tens. That answered the 'where'...there
probably wasn't a moogle alive anywhere for quite some distance from the
keep now. The 'why' was more unsettling.

"Ah, good...um. These are most appreciated." And he quickly signalled to
his lookout to send people out to get the skins. "I'm sure we can find a
use for them. Well...be welcome, I suppose, to Hiel Keep."

******

Later that evening, as Nighthawk watched the stars of this world come out
while standing on the battlements with her people, she reflected on what
she had seen of Tim. Given that she had been much more prepared for him
than he had for her, she had to admire the speed with which he had grasped
the situation. She had no doubt that the 'lookouts' he had posted on the
battlements were also 'looking out' for any signs of treachery; this one
was no fool, and would know Cyan's mind, especially on recieving proof of
her people's archery skills. Yet he had granted her the benefit of the
doubt; possibly of course because the skins were *moogle* skins, but still
that was more than Cyan had granted. It would not take long to work an easy
alliance, even taking the dragons into account. All in all, the day had
worked out quite well.

*******

Tim spent the evening pondering the strange act of fate that would bring
such alien creatures to his doorstep. They flew, as his dragonriders flew,
and there were a lot more of them which could very well be a good thing.
They shot and killed moogles, which was a better thing. And while their
skill left him uneasy - he knew Cyan wanted them watched, and could see why
- he was already beginning to think of some very good uses for the gift of
moogle skins. And the dragons made the avariel uncomfortable; possibly they
weren't used to sharing airspace with anyone. It left him with a rather
neat ace-in-the-hole against treachery, but somehow he couldn't help
suspecting she knew of Cyan's distrust and found it amusing. She couldn't
command three hundred and *not* know. Given that, perhaps it would be safe
to .... provisionally .... trust her. About as much, he suddenly thought,
as she must trust him. Smiling, he turned to bed.


--------------------------
Larathia
Some Sort Of Witch, Maybe
Lurker Extraordinare
---------------------------