\--==Official Submission==-- FROM: First Sergeant Alexander Rahl RE: The Lady''s Hand: Part Three Alexander walked through the camps towards the Circle, trying to ignore the muffled comments from the troops as he passed that he was “walking funny”. Most of them rarely thought his relationship with the Lady was funny, excepting of course mornings like this one. He topped the hill and started his descent into the Circle; a huge ring of intricately carves stone arches. Waygates. The largest of the structures on the far side of the ring was a sight to behold, even though it was unfinished. The CS-722 Waygate was a masterpiece of magic and craftsmanship. Over fifty meters wide and twenty high at its peak, it would allow him to march entire divisions into the Britannian wilderness without fear of reprisals waiting at the entry-point on the other side. A tiny, one-cubit diameter Waygate sat beside it, hastily thrown together to allow communications to pass through with the remnants of Kishara's minions trapped in CS-722. Or were. Alexander winced slightly at the memory of destroying the CS-722 Waygate along with the remaining Priests who were stranded. Alexander strode up to the Foreman and patted him on the back. “It's looking better and better every day, Reg.” “Thank ye sir,” responded the gruff foreman, “I was hopin' ye'd be proud of me handiwerk. Ye'll be able to march yer whole bleedin' army through when I'm done wit' it.” Alexander smiled at the thought. “Yes indeed. And there will be songs sung.” Just then, the tiny Waygate sprang to life, the space between the arches filling with a magic field that looked somewhat like water. A tiny shadow sprung out of the gate, and flitted through the pre-dawn darkness to the Watch Captain and dropped a tiny scroll on the ground before flitting back through the gate just as it closed. Alexander raised an eyebrow at Reg and strode over to the Captain, who was stowing the letter in his satchel. “Captain,” he said, waving down the salute and posturing that followed the man's realization of who had called to him, “who's shadow was that?” The Captain looked at the gate and back to his General. “Well, ehrm...I'm not rightly sure sir. They always come sealed for the Lady's eyes only sir, so I don't ask questions.” “A wise choice. How often do they come?” “Once or twice a year sir since we've had the temporary gate up.” “Which is nearly weekly in CS-722.... Always from the same shadow?” “Well, ehrm, sir, I could never tell the little blokes apart really, but he flits and flutters around the same the last two times I've been here to see it.” “I wasn't aware that we had any operatives remaining in CS- 722....” “Well ehrm sir,” stuttered the Captain, thoroughly flummoxed, “I wouldn't know about such things sir.” “Very well then Captain. I'll deliver the letter to the Lady,” he said, holding out his hand. The Captain looked lost for a moment, but finally managed to stutter,” but ehrm, sir..it's for her eyes only, rules'r rules sir.” The Lady's Hand responded with a stony stare. “Ah, yes sir,” he said, handing over the scroll and promptly finding a Corporal who desperately needed disciplining. Alexander took a last look at the new CS-722 Waygate and began up the trail back to the tower. He stopped just out of sight of the work crews and the camps and broke the seal on the letter. ”˜Mistress- All goes according to plan here. The taint within the man ages him years every day. He will not likely survive the winter, if he even lives that long. I am honored that you appreciate the gift I gave you last year. From the sound of your letter it would seem that things worked out greater than I had imagined. I with the two of you well. I will inform you when the man finally succumbs. \-Your will is my breath. High Priest Ehrlich' Alexander crumpled the note and set it aflame with a thought. “Ehrlich...,” he whispered, eyes narrowed in rage. \--====-- Later that evening, after the day's work was done and the sun had set, Alexander sat behind his desk, trying to remember all of the little details that had been tortured out of him and left behind nearly two decades ago. He was interrupted by Kishara entering the room from the hall, a sneer of victory twisting her delicate features. “I have a present for you dear heart,” She cooed, with a dangerous edge in her voice. “And what would that be?” he responded noncommittally. She glided up to the desk and kissed him furiously, when She finally pulled away, Alexander noted a small pile of dark powder on his desk. He looked at it for a moment, then smelled it, then shot a small bolt of fire into it, igniting the substance and producing a loud bang. “This the same stuff that the Ishan Nomads in RT-38 use to scare off their enemies?” “For the most part,” She replied, obviously disappointed at his lack of surprise, “but we've made some improvements.” “I deemed this stuff too dangerous to be deployed to the troops...” “That you did, but as I said we've made some improvements in the lab. Instead of loading the chamber manually, we encompassed the entire assembly in a sheath of copper, which reduces misfires and dramatically increases firing times.” “I never knew you had a passion for invention.” She smiled at that and plopped herself down on his lap. “Imagine if you will,” She said,” entire divisions armed with these weapons. They would be-“ “Unstoppable,” he finished. “Yes. How fast can the artificers make them?” “They're not magical, Alexander, the Blacksmiths can make them and the Priests already have enough of the powder to equip an army thrice our size.” She rose then and glided into the bedroom, humming a tune to herself that was older than recorded history. Alexander looked at the scorch mark on his desk for a long time. Unstoppable. Ehrlich. Salmnow. CS-722. The Waygate. He wasn't sure why, but Alexander suddenly found himself paralyzed with fear.