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<blockquote data-quote="the Jester" data-source="post: 4768483" data-attributes="member: 1210"><p>Dust and grit fly from the two statues as they begin advancing on the party. In a deep, gravelly voice, each one speaks. The one to the right of the great statue of Grandfather speaks in Common; to the left, the statue speaks in Dwarven. Cook understands both. </p><p></p><p>“WHAT IS THE PASSWORD?”</p><p></p><p>Hkatha shouts, “Fandelose!”</p><p></p><p>“YOU ARE INTERLOPERS. YOU WILL NOT BE PERMITTED TO UNDERMINE THE ALLIANCE.”</p><p></p><p>The two statues move ponderously forward to attack, each moving around one side of the mass of strange, metal and wood figures.</p><p></p><p>Our heroes take quick advantage of the split of the dwarven statues, moving down one side of the square of intervening figures to focus their attacks on but a single enemy. The dwarven statue swings its stone greataxe in mighty, sweeping blows, but our heroes evade most of its attacks. They smash and chop at it, leaving webs of cracks on the statue’s surface, before Vann-La finally brings it down- just as the second statue reaches the party. Its axe crashes down on Vann-La’s shield with telling force, but she catches the blow and triggers the magical power of the shield that she took from Borgan Tyre. The party’s melee-oriented warriors rush forward while the wizards drop back to pelt the statue with magical attacks from a distance. The statue fights back, but it can only land a few blows before the party’s focused fire destroys it.</p><p></p><p>They catch their breath. Torinn and Heimall heal and bind the party’s wounds, and then they turn back to the 20’ high statue of Grandfather. </p><p></p><p>“He’s got one hand open,” comments Heimall. “I bet we have to put one of the keys in it.”</p><p></p><p>“And maybe then his other hand will open, and we can put the other key in it,” suggests Torinn. </p><p></p><p>Vann-La points at the inscription on the statue. “’Peace after War.’ Sounds to me like we put the Key to War in first.”</p><p></p><p>“I can sense magic on that statue,” Iggy says. “What if it triggers another trap, or summons another monster? We need to be ready, just in case.”</p><p></p><p>The party spreads out while Vann-La takes up the Key to War. Then she hesitates. “I still don’t get the whole ‘Key to Peace is the Key to War’ thing,” she says. </p><p></p><p>“Maybe,” suggests Heimall, “it’s because we need the Key to Peace to access the Cathedral of War’s powers.”</p><p></p><p>Vann-La nods thoughtfully and thrusts the key into her belt, then begins pulling herself up the statue of Grandfather. She only has to climb about ten feet to get to the hand. Wedging herself against the statue with her legs and her left hand, she pulls the key out of her belt with her right hand. “It looks like it will fit perfectly,” she reports. “Get ready- here it goes.” With that, she inserts the Key to War into the statue’s hand. </p><p></p><p>The statue’s eyes begin to glow faintly. Quickly, Vann-La hops off of it and backs up a few paces. And then it speaks. </p><p></p><p>“WAR, THEN PEACE. THE WAR MACHINE SHALL TEST THE WORTHY.”</p><p></p><p>Before the party, space itself twists, and something emerges into the world. Clearly some type of machine, it vaguely resembles a heavily-armored dwarf, with a stylized beard of razor-sharp metal descending from its chin. Its hands resemble an axe head and a maul; thick armor plates shield it on all sides. Its broad shoulders are mounted with some kind of ominous-looking contraptions that bristle with several aligned barrels each. Long spiked chains spin from its back. In its chest, a glowing furnace radiates red-hot behind a portal in its chest.</p><p></p><p>“Watch out!” Hkatha cries, dropping back, evoking a <em>flaming sphere</em> at the thing. </p><p></p><p>Vann-La doesn’t hesitate for an instant. She charges in swinging, her warhammer singing as it smashes into the thing- and deflects harmlessly off of its armored plating! “This thing is pretty hard to hit,” she announces, and then it presses her, slamming its hammer hand at her while bringing the axe hand around on the other side. She catches both on her shield again, but barely holds them back! The war machine shifts up and unleashes a frenzy of attacks on the fighter and Torinn, flailing about with the spinning chains on its back. </p><p></p><p>Torinn spits lightning, catching the war machine in his electric blast, and then moves in with a <em>righteous brand.</em> Vann-La steps up closer to flank, and the chains slap out, gouging a bloody tear in her shoulder. She grits her teeth and hits it with a <em>tide of iron,</em> pushing it away to gain a little breathing space while Hkatha keeps his <em>flaming sphere</em> on it.</p><p></p><p>Unfortunately, the war machine is equally capable fighting from a distance. The menacing shoulder-mounted turrets start shooting steam-powered darts in a steady stream at Hkatha. The tiefling reacts instantly, raising a <em>shield</em> that deflects the incoming darts!</p><p></p><p>Torinn swings his spiked chain at it and <em>splits the sky.</em> The machine is smashed, spinning, to fall 10’ away. It seems to finally be noticeably damaged, as a massive jet of oil squirts from the rent that the dragonborn just put in the creature’s armor. Our heroes spring in on it, beating it while it is down, but it rights itself quickly and lashes out in return with terrific blows against Torinn and Vann-La. Hkatha keeps his <em>flaming sphere</em> moving with the war machine, burning it again and again. Now there are more spots with oil and fluid leaking, and smoke is rising from somewhere inside the machine. Yet it fights on, clanking away from our heroes to stand near Grandfather’s statue and fire more of its shoulder darts at Hkatha. This time, he is hit thrice. </p><p></p><p>“Bastard!” the tiefling wizard spits, and he hurls a <em>fireball</em> at it. The blast staggers it, and then Vann-La and Torinn rush it again. They exchange blows with the war machine. Its hammer crashes into Vann-La’s chest with brutal force, nearly taking her from the fight; and then her warhammer smashes into its chest, where its furnace blazes, and the chest portal buckles inwards. The war machine staggers back, one step, two; and then it collapses with the groan of over-stressed metal, to lay still forever.</p><p></p><p>Panting, groaning, Torinn and Vann-La high five.</p><p></p><p>And then the great statue of Grandfather that dominates the room speaks a single word: “WORTHY.”</p><p></p><p>Vann-La takes the Key to Peace and climbs the statue again, where she finds that its other hand is now open. She inserts the second key and then drops back to the ground. Suddenly the mass of metal and wood figures in the center of the Cathedral begins to hum, click and whir. Their lidless eyes begin to glow a multitude of colors- red, green, blue, white. Slowly the inanimate soldiers- come to life!</p><p></p><p>“Let’s hope this wasn’t a terrible mistake,” murmurs Vann-La. </p><p></p><p>“No- <em>these</em> must be the weapons that General Argos spoke of!” Hkatha points to the animating figures. </p><p></p><p>“Bur there are only 400 of them,” Kratos points out. “That isn’t enough to make a real difference.”</p><p></p><p>“Unless they are totally bad ass,” replies Heimall. </p><p></p><p>“And they are far more expendable than human troops,” Loridell points out.</p><p></p><p>One of the strange figures strides towards the party. They shut up and turn to face it. “I am NC17,” it states, “and we are the warforged. What is the situation? Why have you awakened us?”</p><p></p><p>Heimall steps forward. “Greetings, NC17, I am Sergeant Heimall Heinrikson of the Imperial Army. We are attempting to defend Fandelose from an oncoming horde of goblinoids, orcs, gnolls, lizardfolk, kobolds and ogres called the Six-Fingered Hand. The Hand has already overrun the eastern provinces of this continent- and we aren’t sure how much else. We must make a stand, and the enemy will be here in a matter of weeks. We need your help.”</p><p></p><p>NC17 nods. “By ancient compact, we serve the cause of Fandelose- for a time. But we must survey the situation for ourselves before we decide exactly what course we will take.”</p><p></p><p>“Good. Well, first, we should go report in to General Argos. We don’t want to freak the dwarves out, though- you remain here while we go talk to their Thane, and maybe we can arrange for an escort for you.” Heimall starts to turn away, but NC17 speaks again.</p><p></p><p>“We will not wait. If the threat is as urgent as you say, there is no time to waste.” Behind him, the warforged are forming up in ranks. “You have awakened us in a time of need. For that we thank you, and we will gift you with certain things to aid you. But do not believe that you command us.”</p><p></p><p>There is a moment of silence. </p><p></p><p>Kratos thinks, <em>I knew that this was a bad idea.</em></p><p></p><p>***</p><p></p><p>The warforged are not to be dissuaded, so our heroes march with them, trying first to reassure the dwarves that all is well- which they do, after a hasty discussion with some of the thane’s men. Heimall manages to persuade NC17 to go first to the forward observation post that the party has stationed Borgan Tyre at. From there, the warforged get a good look around. The mercenary captain reports that they have slain a few goblin spies in the last few days, while the party tarried within Grandfather’s Legacy and the dwarven operation. </p><p></p><p>But still no word from Argos, allowing the party to get back to Fandelose. </p><p></p><p>Heimall has Tyre dispatch a pair of men immediately to bring word of the coming of the warforged to the city with all haste in order to prevent any accidental conflicts from arising. He sighs. That’s pretty much all he can do under the present circumstances.</p><p></p><p>In the morning, NC17 surprises the party again. “We have observed the situation here from the observation post. Most of us will go to harry the enemy and take their measure, while a few representatives will go to the city to speak with the military leadership there.</p><p></p><p>“Meanwhile,” snarls Kratos, “we are stuck here.”</p><p></p><p>“Patience,” mutters Cook.</p><p></p><p>***</p><p></p><p>The party spends the next couple of days helping Borgan Tyre’s mercenaries continue to fortify the observation post. While they are doing so, it becomes increasingly apparent that three of them are under some kind of curse. They surmise it is because they looted Grandfather’s body; thus, they return everything that they looted from him to his tomb (except, of course, for the Key to War, which is sealed in the hand of the statue in the Cathedral of War). Then, finally, a troop of soldiers arrives to relieve them, and the party returns to Fandelose. When they return, they are challenged to identify themselves at the outer gates, and are amazed to see that an incredible bustle of activity is taking place. Scores of people, obviously citizens, are wearing military tunics that seem to identify them as civilians attached to the Army; they are busily reinforcing the walls, assembling weapons, stacking firestone sacks (for use in boiling oil, heating sand, etc), clearing an area around the walls to be used as a killing zone, and so forth. A large, deep ditch has already been excavated around the city’s base, and it bristles with a palisade of outward-facing spikes. Scouts thunder up and down the road with frequency. Clearly, Fandelose is now on a war footing, and the city isn’t fooling around. It seems that General Argos has finally been able to force the Bronze Council to respond to the urgency of the situation by threatening to declare martial law as soon as the Six-Fingered Hand comes within the prescribed twelve miles if the city isn’t ready to fight. </p><p></p><p>Upon their return to the barracks, the pcs are shown to Colonel Jaxe, who debriefs them, with two scribes beside him taking copious notes. As they recount their tale, there are three interruptions from couriers telling the colonel that “the firestone shipment has arrived” (“Good, get it to the quartermasters and tell them to start distributing it according to the general’s plan immediately”), “scouts report the advanced skirmishers of the Hand have been spotted as close as Owl Hill” (about four miles south of the city) and “the remaining grain in the Farmers’ Granary has been poisoned for the Hand” (the Farmers’ Granary is about twelve miles outside of town and usually serves as a food reserve above and beyond the granaries inside the city). </p><p></p><p>Once he receives their report, Colonel Jaxe tells the party that he is sorry that they will not have any time to rest, but the forces of the Hand are too close for any leisure. (He aims this remark at Hkatha, who is an aristocrat, more than anyone else.) Every man, woman and child in the city is being asked to contribute in one way or another. The city’s very survival is at stake. </p><p></p><p>“What can we do to help, sir?” asks Iggy.</p><p></p><p>“As you yourselves discovered while you were poking around the city,” the colonel replies, “there are many hidden entrances into Fandelose. All of the ones we know about are being sealed up and/or guarded. However, there are bound to be many more that we don’t know about. Hopefully, neither does the Six-Fingered Hand.</p><p></p><p>“The issue is that there is an eladrin architect named Hyswell that may know of several entrances unknown to anyone else- and he is a hermit that is exiled from both the city and his own kind. He betrayed the governing faction of Fandelose once before (leading to his exile from the city), and now lives on a high, hard-to-reach peak about two days’ travel away.”</p><p></p><p>Jaxe goes on, “The problem is, the Six-Fingered Hand may well know about Hyswell. One of the factors leading to his exile from his kinfolk was his turn towards alien geometries in construction, sponsored by Abyssal patrons. These same demonic forces advise the leadership of the Hand. Hyswell needs to be either brought into the city or killed, so that the Hand can’t take him. He’s not likely to be friendly, but it is possible that he is open to persuasion.” He pauses for a moment, then says, “It should take about four days to get there, about the same to return. You should have enough time to get there and back and still have a few spare days before the Hand arrives.”</p><p></p><p>“What of the warforged, sir?” asks Heimall.</p><p></p><p>“General Argos has been meeting with LZ9, their representative. He sends his congratulations for a job well done.” Colonel Jaxe cracks a rare smile. “And I must echo those sentiments. Congratulations- <em>captains.</em>”</p><p></p><p><em><strong>Next Time:</strong></em> Hyswell the Bitter!</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="the Jester, post: 4768483, member: 1210"] Dust and grit fly from the two statues as they begin advancing on the party. In a deep, gravelly voice, each one speaks. The one to the right of the great statue of Grandfather speaks in Common; to the left, the statue speaks in Dwarven. Cook understands both. “WHAT IS THE PASSWORD?” Hkatha shouts, “Fandelose!” “YOU ARE INTERLOPERS. YOU WILL NOT BE PERMITTED TO UNDERMINE THE ALLIANCE.” The two statues move ponderously forward to attack, each moving around one side of the mass of strange, metal and wood figures. Our heroes take quick advantage of the split of the dwarven statues, moving down one side of the square of intervening figures to focus their attacks on but a single enemy. The dwarven statue swings its stone greataxe in mighty, sweeping blows, but our heroes evade most of its attacks. They smash and chop at it, leaving webs of cracks on the statue’s surface, before Vann-La finally brings it down- just as the second statue reaches the party. Its axe crashes down on Vann-La’s shield with telling force, but she catches the blow and triggers the magical power of the shield that she took from Borgan Tyre. The party’s melee-oriented warriors rush forward while the wizards drop back to pelt the statue with magical attacks from a distance. The statue fights back, but it can only land a few blows before the party’s focused fire destroys it. They catch their breath. Torinn and Heimall heal and bind the party’s wounds, and then they turn back to the 20’ high statue of Grandfather. “He’s got one hand open,” comments Heimall. “I bet we have to put one of the keys in it.” “And maybe then his other hand will open, and we can put the other key in it,” suggests Torinn. Vann-La points at the inscription on the statue. “’Peace after War.’ Sounds to me like we put the Key to War in first.” “I can sense magic on that statue,” Iggy says. “What if it triggers another trap, or summons another monster? We need to be ready, just in case.” The party spreads out while Vann-La takes up the Key to War. Then she hesitates. “I still don’t get the whole ‘Key to Peace is the Key to War’ thing,” she says. “Maybe,” suggests Heimall, “it’s because we need the Key to Peace to access the Cathedral of War’s powers.” Vann-La nods thoughtfully and thrusts the key into her belt, then begins pulling herself up the statue of Grandfather. She only has to climb about ten feet to get to the hand. Wedging herself against the statue with her legs and her left hand, she pulls the key out of her belt with her right hand. “It looks like it will fit perfectly,” she reports. “Get ready- here it goes.” With that, she inserts the Key to War into the statue’s hand. The statue’s eyes begin to glow faintly. Quickly, Vann-La hops off of it and backs up a few paces. And then it speaks. “WAR, THEN PEACE. THE WAR MACHINE SHALL TEST THE WORTHY.” Before the party, space itself twists, and something emerges into the world. Clearly some type of machine, it vaguely resembles a heavily-armored dwarf, with a stylized beard of razor-sharp metal descending from its chin. Its hands resemble an axe head and a maul; thick armor plates shield it on all sides. Its broad shoulders are mounted with some kind of ominous-looking contraptions that bristle with several aligned barrels each. Long spiked chains spin from its back. In its chest, a glowing furnace radiates red-hot behind a portal in its chest. “Watch out!” Hkatha cries, dropping back, evoking a [i]flaming sphere[/i] at the thing. Vann-La doesn’t hesitate for an instant. She charges in swinging, her warhammer singing as it smashes into the thing- and deflects harmlessly off of its armored plating! “This thing is pretty hard to hit,” she announces, and then it presses her, slamming its hammer hand at her while bringing the axe hand around on the other side. She catches both on her shield again, but barely holds them back! The war machine shifts up and unleashes a frenzy of attacks on the fighter and Torinn, flailing about with the spinning chains on its back. Torinn spits lightning, catching the war machine in his electric blast, and then moves in with a [i]righteous brand.[/i] Vann-La steps up closer to flank, and the chains slap out, gouging a bloody tear in her shoulder. She grits her teeth and hits it with a [i]tide of iron,[/i] pushing it away to gain a little breathing space while Hkatha keeps his [i]flaming sphere[/i] on it. Unfortunately, the war machine is equally capable fighting from a distance. The menacing shoulder-mounted turrets start shooting steam-powered darts in a steady stream at Hkatha. The tiefling reacts instantly, raising a [i]shield[/i] that deflects the incoming darts! Torinn swings his spiked chain at it and [i]splits the sky.[/i] The machine is smashed, spinning, to fall 10’ away. It seems to finally be noticeably damaged, as a massive jet of oil squirts from the rent that the dragonborn just put in the creature’s armor. Our heroes spring in on it, beating it while it is down, but it rights itself quickly and lashes out in return with terrific blows against Torinn and Vann-La. Hkatha keeps his [i]flaming sphere[/i] moving with the war machine, burning it again and again. Now there are more spots with oil and fluid leaking, and smoke is rising from somewhere inside the machine. Yet it fights on, clanking away from our heroes to stand near Grandfather’s statue and fire more of its shoulder darts at Hkatha. This time, he is hit thrice. “Bastard!” the tiefling wizard spits, and he hurls a [i]fireball[/i] at it. The blast staggers it, and then Vann-La and Torinn rush it again. They exchange blows with the war machine. Its hammer crashes into Vann-La’s chest with brutal force, nearly taking her from the fight; and then her warhammer smashes into its chest, where its furnace blazes, and the chest portal buckles inwards. The war machine staggers back, one step, two; and then it collapses with the groan of over-stressed metal, to lay still forever. Panting, groaning, Torinn and Vann-La high five. And then the great statue of Grandfather that dominates the room speaks a single word: “WORTHY.” Vann-La takes the Key to Peace and climbs the statue again, where she finds that its other hand is now open. She inserts the second key and then drops back to the ground. Suddenly the mass of metal and wood figures in the center of the Cathedral begins to hum, click and whir. Their lidless eyes begin to glow a multitude of colors- red, green, blue, white. Slowly the inanimate soldiers- come to life! “Let’s hope this wasn’t a terrible mistake,” murmurs Vann-La. “No- [i]these[/i] must be the weapons that General Argos spoke of!” Hkatha points to the animating figures. “Bur there are only 400 of them,” Kratos points out. “That isn’t enough to make a real difference.” “Unless they are totally bad ass,” replies Heimall. “And they are far more expendable than human troops,” Loridell points out. One of the strange figures strides towards the party. They shut up and turn to face it. “I am NC17,” it states, “and we are the warforged. What is the situation? Why have you awakened us?” Heimall steps forward. “Greetings, NC17, I am Sergeant Heimall Heinrikson of the Imperial Army. We are attempting to defend Fandelose from an oncoming horde of goblinoids, orcs, gnolls, lizardfolk, kobolds and ogres called the Six-Fingered Hand. The Hand has already overrun the eastern provinces of this continent- and we aren’t sure how much else. We must make a stand, and the enemy will be here in a matter of weeks. We need your help.” NC17 nods. “By ancient compact, we serve the cause of Fandelose- for a time. But we must survey the situation for ourselves before we decide exactly what course we will take.” “Good. Well, first, we should go report in to General Argos. We don’t want to freak the dwarves out, though- you remain here while we go talk to their Thane, and maybe we can arrange for an escort for you.” Heimall starts to turn away, but NC17 speaks again. “We will not wait. If the threat is as urgent as you say, there is no time to waste.” Behind him, the warforged are forming up in ranks. “You have awakened us in a time of need. For that we thank you, and we will gift you with certain things to aid you. But do not believe that you command us.” There is a moment of silence. Kratos thinks, [i]I knew that this was a bad idea.[/i] *** The warforged are not to be dissuaded, so our heroes march with them, trying first to reassure the dwarves that all is well- which they do, after a hasty discussion with some of the thane’s men. Heimall manages to persuade NC17 to go first to the forward observation post that the party has stationed Borgan Tyre at. From there, the warforged get a good look around. The mercenary captain reports that they have slain a few goblin spies in the last few days, while the party tarried within Grandfather’s Legacy and the dwarven operation. But still no word from Argos, allowing the party to get back to Fandelose. Heimall has Tyre dispatch a pair of men immediately to bring word of the coming of the warforged to the city with all haste in order to prevent any accidental conflicts from arising. He sighs. That’s pretty much all he can do under the present circumstances. In the morning, NC17 surprises the party again. “We have observed the situation here from the observation post. Most of us will go to harry the enemy and take their measure, while a few representatives will go to the city to speak with the military leadership there. “Meanwhile,” snarls Kratos, “we are stuck here.” “Patience,” mutters Cook. *** The party spends the next couple of days helping Borgan Tyre’s mercenaries continue to fortify the observation post. While they are doing so, it becomes increasingly apparent that three of them are under some kind of curse. They surmise it is because they looted Grandfather’s body; thus, they return everything that they looted from him to his tomb (except, of course, for the Key to War, which is sealed in the hand of the statue in the Cathedral of War). Then, finally, a troop of soldiers arrives to relieve them, and the party returns to Fandelose. When they return, they are challenged to identify themselves at the outer gates, and are amazed to see that an incredible bustle of activity is taking place. Scores of people, obviously citizens, are wearing military tunics that seem to identify them as civilians attached to the Army; they are busily reinforcing the walls, assembling weapons, stacking firestone sacks (for use in boiling oil, heating sand, etc), clearing an area around the walls to be used as a killing zone, and so forth. A large, deep ditch has already been excavated around the city’s base, and it bristles with a palisade of outward-facing spikes. Scouts thunder up and down the road with frequency. Clearly, Fandelose is now on a war footing, and the city isn’t fooling around. It seems that General Argos has finally been able to force the Bronze Council to respond to the urgency of the situation by threatening to declare martial law as soon as the Six-Fingered Hand comes within the prescribed twelve miles if the city isn’t ready to fight. Upon their return to the barracks, the pcs are shown to Colonel Jaxe, who debriefs them, with two scribes beside him taking copious notes. As they recount their tale, there are three interruptions from couriers telling the colonel that “the firestone shipment has arrived” (“Good, get it to the quartermasters and tell them to start distributing it according to the general’s plan immediately”), “scouts report the advanced skirmishers of the Hand have been spotted as close as Owl Hill” (about four miles south of the city) and “the remaining grain in the Farmers’ Granary has been poisoned for the Hand” (the Farmers’ Granary is about twelve miles outside of town and usually serves as a food reserve above and beyond the granaries inside the city). Once he receives their report, Colonel Jaxe tells the party that he is sorry that they will not have any time to rest, but the forces of the Hand are too close for any leisure. (He aims this remark at Hkatha, who is an aristocrat, more than anyone else.) Every man, woman and child in the city is being asked to contribute in one way or another. The city’s very survival is at stake. “What can we do to help, sir?” asks Iggy. “As you yourselves discovered while you were poking around the city,” the colonel replies, “there are many hidden entrances into Fandelose. All of the ones we know about are being sealed up and/or guarded. However, there are bound to be many more that we don’t know about. Hopefully, neither does the Six-Fingered Hand. “The issue is that there is an eladrin architect named Hyswell that may know of several entrances unknown to anyone else- and he is a hermit that is exiled from both the city and his own kind. He betrayed the governing faction of Fandelose once before (leading to his exile from the city), and now lives on a high, hard-to-reach peak about two days’ travel away.” Jaxe goes on, “The problem is, the Six-Fingered Hand may well know about Hyswell. One of the factors leading to his exile from his kinfolk was his turn towards alien geometries in construction, sponsored by Abyssal patrons. These same demonic forces advise the leadership of the Hand. Hyswell needs to be either brought into the city or killed, so that the Hand can’t take him. He’s not likely to be friendly, but it is possible that he is open to persuasion.” He pauses for a moment, then says, “It should take about four days to get there, about the same to return. You should have enough time to get there and back and still have a few spare days before the Hand arrives.” “What of the warforged, sir?” asks Heimall. “General Argos has been meeting with LZ9, their representative. He sends his congratulations for a job well done.” Colonel Jaxe cracks a rare smile. “And I must echo those sentiments. Congratulations- [i]captains.[/i]” [i][b]Next Time:[/b][/i][b][/b] Hyswell the Bitter! [/QUOTE]
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