Crosstime Caper: 5

Five hyenas, a longhorn bull, a hawk and a ferret appeared in a flare of green light in an out-of-the-way corner of Peterson Park. The flare dwindled into faintly glowing lines in the grass, tracing out a complicated pattern that most furs would have described as a pentagram before fading out completely. The group stared in astonishment at their surroundings. The park was ordinary enough, grass and trees in the midst of a city, but there was no sign that the commons had ever been used for grazing, and no park in the Empire, or any of the realms of Orterra, had such a multitude of magic lamps holding the night at bay. And the buildings beyond the park... tall as hills or even mountains at first glance, a forest of towers that far exceeded even the tales of the dwellings of the Gods, glowing with more mage-light lamps. The ferret recovered first. “An' this is only a city on the far edge of the realm from their capital. Thinkin', I am, that we best be quiet as a snake on the hunt.”

The bull tore his eyes away from the spectacle of a night sky drowned out by magic lighting - if it truly was magic at all. His briefing implied that the locals somehow did this without mages. “Right. Out of the circle, lads. Let Lord Heikio set up the return spell. Perimeter guard, for now.” The hyenas moved out, jingling slightly in their loosely woven chain mail. The bull wore a tighter weave, both lighter and stronger than what his soldiers had, and a metal helm rather than a leather cap. The hawk, in brown robes, began his part of the preparation for the return spell as they did so.

The ferret was dressed in soft black leather trousers, tunic, and boots, with a silk-lined hooded wool cloak that blended into the shadows in a way that made her hard to see. “One day, remember. We have until midnight again tomorrow.” She sniffed the air, then snorted. “Cor, what a reek. Not sure what it is, but it ain't honest wood smoke. Maybe best not to make a fire, unless we see the folk what live here do it first. Whatever they burn, I'd bet it ain't wood. You lads keep an eye on his lordship – I'm going to see what I can see in this park.” She was gone, vanished into the shadows before the bull could protest.

* * * *

The Weave of this world felt strange, but she could walk through its shadows as well as she could on Orterra and its sister planes. The odd rumbling noises grew louder as she moved towards the edge of the park they'd landed in, and then she broke out of the trees and got her first good look at the local inhabitants. They were of all races and kinds, mixed groups and even mixed couples chatting in an easy association she rarely saw at home, except in a few of the more cosmopolitan cities of the Trade League. The clothing was bizarre to her eyes, but that was expected, and she'd seen stranger styles back on Orterra. But the street – it was paved not in cobbles but in some smooth dark substance, and it was -filled- with wagons of all sizes, each of which carried bright magelights to light its way, and not one of them was being pulled by any draft beast. <And these are the things that make that dragonfire reek. What manner of magic does this land possess?> She stood and simply watched for a time, noting the patterns bit by bit until she could begin to make sense of it. They would surge along at speeds that a racing thoroughbred could not match, and then simultaneously slow and stop. The locals would cross the street in front of them, while another set roared along on a cross-street, and then those would stop and the first group would surge forward... it took her a while to figure out that they were obeying the colored lights posted at each intersection, and that each wagon was being controlled by a single fur seated in its left front. She peered into a few that were quiescent on the roadside, and confirmed that that seat had a set of complicated controls in front of it.

<A truly astonishing place. Does the Master wish to learn its secrets? Or is he looking for something?> She'd heard all manner of bard tales about the quests and wars that had accompanied his initial rise to power, and one thing that many of them agreed on was that he'd only been stopped from overrunning the entire world by the loss of an Artifact. <If this is where the White Council hid it after Roland and his companions stole it... just finding it will be a problem. And getting to it will be worse.> In the street, a fur darted out among the moving wagons and was nearly hit, saved only by one of the wagons screeching to a halt, an action that was accompanied by a loud blare of noise from it and a good deal of invective from its drover. <Heh. The Master of the Northlands, come to reclaim the Orb, and getting run down by a magic wagon on the way.> The thought made her chuckle. Unlike the others, she owed him only a mercenary's loyalty, and some of the whispered stories about him were... disturbing, even beyond his ambition and the Gods he served.

She shrugged and moved on. She had only a rudimentary knowledge of letters even in her homeland, and the locals used a different alphabet. And while the language here was supposed to be similar to the Common Speech, the passers-by had demonstrated that it was full of words and slang that referred to things unknown to Orterra. The magelights that turned night into day were also pressed into service in place of signboards, it seemed, but a tavern still smelled of beer and smoke, even though the sign was in letters rather than a picture of grapes or a tapped keg. She wasn't sure where the mels kept their valuables, but the femmes had hand-carried pouches, and obtaining one from its less than alert owner, who was busy talking to a small box held in her hand, was only the work of a moment before she whisked off into Shadow again.

She headed away from the park, into quieter neighborhoods with fewer moving wagons, and found a deserted alley to inspect her loot. <Let's see, now... cosmetics, this is. Rouge and... something...> The lipstick puzzled her, and she shrugged and put it aside to pick out the next item. <Pills of some sort, but the bottle... it is not glass, nor any substance I have seen before. And what in the name of Kweos the Traveler are these? Tubes of that same not-glass, and inside an absorbent bandage of some sort, on a thin cord...?> She snickered. <Even smaller than most males who brag of their manhood, if a similar shape...> The purpose of the thing came to her in a flash. <She was not a rich lady. I -must- find out where these can be bought!> She shook her head, focusing on the contents of the pouch again. <Keys. She has so many things to guard with locks? And a pouch within a pouch. It has coins, though not many. Artwork on fine paper, with writing...? Surely this is not what they use for money? But... several types, each identical to the others, like the coins. Perhaps it -is- money... Cards of the not-glass again, and what is this...?> She puzzled at the card that was held in a separate slot. It had a truly amazing life-like picture of the ewe she'd stolen the pouch from, along with writing and what appeared to be a coat of arms. <A badge of office, perhaps? But she did not appear to be anyone of unusual importance... I do not believe I wish to keep this. The coins and the artwork, yes, and the tubes for moon-time bleeding. But these other things are too specific to their owner.> She stuffed most of what she'd found back into the pouch and left it in the alley.

* * * *

Being a senior agent of the Paratemporal Patrol had its advantages, K'ree reflected. Not least of which was staying young and active well into his fourth century of a life which had been anything but boring. He was looking forward to an evening of good food and delightful, if somewhat dangerous, feminine companionship when the computer who monitored the rudimentary surveillance network he'd set up interrupted his thoughts.

{Colonel Tana*karishi? There has been an incursion to this worldline.}

The bat locally known as Kerry Skydancer blinked, then subvocalized his response. {Report details, Mycroft.}

{The incursion was a standard transference spell of the Upsilon-Keph type. Preliminary scans showed eight arrivals in the southeast section of Peterson Park, but only seven can be reliably tracked.}

{Continue tracking. Stand by.}

“We may have a change of plans, Lucy. Remember what I told you about leaks?”

The second bat riding in the limousine was a slender and ethereally good-looking Oriental. Lucy, or more properly Ryushi, Fujira was a possible recruit for the Patrol, and not coincidentally a super-powered assassin who went by the code name of Nightblade. “Something unpleasant has turned up?”

“Something has turned up. Dunno how unpleasant it is just yet. Fancy a trip to Peterson Park for a moonlight flight?”

“As long as we can get something to eat afterwards.” She leaned forward and keyed the intercom to the wolf chauffeur. “Charles? Change of plans. Can you drop us off at Peterson Park? Skydancer and I are feeling romantic.”

The driver's voice gave away his smile. “Certainly, Ms. Fujira.” He turned right at the next intersection.

Skydancer chuckled. “Romantic, eh?”

“Well, you know what my day job is. The chance to kill something that deserves it -is- romantic.”

“If you say so, Ryushi. Keep in mind that it may not be necessary. This is a recon mission to start with.”

“Aww... “ She grinned at his look. “Gotcha. Just because I'm good at killing doesn't mean I usually enjoy it. I'm not a sicko like Violetta.”

“That's a name I haven't heard before. You'll have to fill me in later. Looks like we're almost there.”

* * * *

Their driver dropped them off at the south end of the park. “Should I wait for you, Ms. Lucy?”

“We'll be a while, Charles, and probably go for a late dinner afterwards. Go home and get some sleep.”

“Very good, ma'am.” He turned to Skydancer. “And I will see you next month for the usual delivery?”

“As far as I know, yes. Thank you, Charles.” The driver returned to his vehicle and headed out. He tapped his right ear with a fingerclaw. “And now that we're alone... Mycroft tells me he detected an arrival from a high-magic worldline. I don't know if it's an invasion, an exploratory mission, or an evacuation at this point. Probably not an invasion force with only seven or eight of them, but it could be a scouting mission for one.”

“Mycroft?”

“The AI that runs my early warning network. He's got sensors to watch for dimensional breaches, and this was a splashy one. He said eight arrivals, but one of them he lost track of almost immediately. Given the origin, it's probably some sort of concealment magic.”

“So what are we looking for?”

“High magic, low tech. If they're armed, and they probably will be, it would be medieval weapons but with magic support on the order of super-powers. They're supposed to be in a clearing in one of the wooded sections, about seven hundred meters in that direction.” He pointed. “So let's go in quietly.”

* * * *

<Five hyena soldiers, one bull non-com, and one mage. The bull might have some spell ability, too. Don't recognize the insignia they're wearing, but that's Orterran Common they're speaking. Probably from a worldline I haven't visited.> The hawk was chanting something, coming to a climax. He finished, there was a pause, and then a very elaborate circle-and-star diagram lit up in the clearing. <Oh, that can't be good.> He nodded to Ryushi, and they withdrew to a point where they could speak. “You need to learn ultrasonic code. We could have chatted using that with them none the wiser.”

“What just happened?”

“Interdimensional transport spell, I think. Not sure if it's inbound, outbound, or both, it's not my area of expertise. We need to get some local magic-users involved, and quickly. And that means...” He sighed. The Bureau, most likely, unless War Wolf knows an unregistered one.”

“You're going to talk to War Wolf?”

“I have her communications tapped, sort of. Enough to give her a call and ask her to introduce me to someone who knows this stuff. You might want to make yourself scarce before anyone else shows up.”

“Shouldn't be a problem. They don't have any proof that I've done anything, even if they recognize me. You're not planning to call that Miracle person, are you?” He shook his head, and she smiled. “And you end up doing the most -interesting- things, K'ree. I'll trust you to get me out of anything sticky. Go ahead and call them. If they ask, I'm your assistant. Cadet Murisaki of the Paratemporal Patrol.”

He smiled. “Fair enough.” He shifted to Paratemporal. {Mycroft. Can you patch me into War Wolf's communicator frequency?}

{Only at ninety-one percent reliability, Colonel. Her scrambling algorithms are quite advanced for this level of technology.}

{That's plenty for us analog creatures. Go ahead and do it.}

There was a brief moment of warble and click. {Ready, Colonel.}

* * * *

War Wolf was about to call it a night. Activity was dwindling down to nothing at 1 a.m. on a Tuesday, and the idea of getting a proper night's sleep for once was appealing. She had just started back to her motorcycle when the 'allies' channel of her communicator beeped for attention. She hit the accept button. “War Wolf.”

The amount of static on the channel surprised her. Distributed multi-frequency circuits weren't supposed to be -able- to transmit static. The voice surprised her even more. “Good ...vening, War Wolf. I hope … not interrupting any...”

“-Skydancer-?? How did -you- get on this channel!?”

“Got ...very good AI assist... not quite perfect match, but cl... enough. Need a favor. Can... introduce me to ... Bureau?”

“I thought you didn't want to be bothered with them?”

“Normal... don't. Got a possi... ...tuation, though. Need a local magic-type to check... out. Transport pent...ram southeast Peterson Park, at lea.. seven furs present.”

“This is probably your fault, isn't it?”

“No. Never been... worldline they... from. Need to know if... beachhead or... returning home.”

“I'll be there in five minutes. I'm not taking your word on anything yet.”

“Fair... we'll be wait...”

The circuit went quiet again, and she called her partner. “Spectra? Meet me at Victory and Twelfth soonest.”

“I overheard. You're going to trust that joker?”

“Not completely. I'm going to go look. You are going to get hold of the Bureau and ask them to stand by. They know about him, right?”

“Strikira and I discussed him. I'm sure she passed it on, and Eldritch probably felt it if he's telling the truth. I'll have her check.”

“Good idea. He hinted that there were interdimensional conquistadors out there when we had our little chat. If he was telling the truth...”

The lioness' accent always got stronger when she was worried. “Aye. Better nip that in the bud if it's for real.”

* * * *

“Well, we should have backup soon, Ryushi.”

“Meeting War Wolf under these circumstances should be interesting...” She frowned. “How many languages do you speak, anyway? You seem to have understood them. I couldn't, quite.”

“I don't even -know-, any more. Dozens, and probably hundreds of dialects. That -was- a variant of English, or one of its sisters at least. English is truly a bastard language, though, and spawns dialects like feral mice even in a single worldline. Across the dimensions? The number of variations gets insane rather quickly. But it's widespread through large chunks of seven-space.” He grinned. “The Architect has a weakness for it, it seems.”

“Who?”

“What my homeworld calls the True God. Maker, Architect, Builder, the Ultimate... some dimensions have local god-like beings compared to us mere mortals, but even they tend to have a belief in the ultimate Creator of the multiverse. After all, no matter what stories are told about them, -they- know they didn't actually make it.”

“Speculation, K'ree? Or knowledge?”

“Knowledge. I'm a high priest of one of them...” He grinned at her expression. “Long story. But we met during one of my missions, long ago, and we've chatted since then. You've seen her sigil. That fox medallion I wear. Mellifrey the Trickster.”

“Of course she'd be a kitsune. Somehow -that- part doesn't surprise me at all.”

* * * *

War Wolf stood on the roof of the Colmaton Marriot Hotel overlooking the southern end of Peterson Park, binoculars focused on the phenomenon just visible over the trees from her vantage point. After a moment, she contacted her partner. “Spectra? It's confirmed. A circle of green light on the ground, about sixty feet across, and I can see three furs, two carrying medieval weapons. Whatever this is, it isn't Skydancer's idea of a joke. Call the Bureau in. I'm going down to meet him, he's near the south edge of the park with another bat.”

“Be careful.”

“I am -always- careful.”

* * * *

Eldritch had already informed Ranger that something had arrived from Elsewhere when Spectra's call reached Strikira, and she'd called all of the duty staff together. The hybrid wolf-raccoon was discussing the incursion he had felt. “I am... still mostly myself, Ranger. Detecting breaches between worlds uses little of my power. They are from a place of high magic, but not all of them can use it.”

“So, a mixed group of abilities should work if they are hostile?”

“Yes. I should be with you, magic that crosses the boundaries is something I am good at.”

She nodded. “Very well. Strikira, you get along with War Wolf. Power Pig, Eldritch... and Mystic Cat, I think, for magic. The rest of you, continue monitoring. If this is a feint, or they bring in backup, we'll want you on call. Medic Mouse, you're in charge until either I get back or Morningstar makes it in. I'm hoping this is a First Contact situation, not an invasion, but I'm not going to take chances.”

The mouse nodded. “You got it, Ranger.”

* * * *

Skydancer's machines gave him five seconds warning this time. <She must not have been trying to hide.> He suppressed the instinct to launch – he was more concerned with remaining concealed from the interlopers than he was from the vigilante. “War Wolf. Right on schedule.”

“Of course. I came to see for myself.”

“They're about four hundred meters north of here. If you want confirmation, we should -”

“I know, we saw them from the Marriott. Spectra's calling the Bureau as we speak. What do you know about these people?”

“Not much. Their home worldline is heavy on magic and light on science. Call it sword and sorcery for a first approximation. I have no idea why they are here. Could be scouts for an invasion, could be scouts for a trade mission, could just be random explorers – pretty sure they're not refugees, they set up a route home again almost as soon as they arrived. I sent a message up my own chain of command, they'll see what they can figure out from the other end. But it might be from an unexplored worldline. I don't recognize the insignia the soldiers are wearing, and neither does Mycroft.”

“Mycroft?”

“My AI system. Could just be that he doesn't have the data loaded, we're not anywhere -close- to that worldline. Which worries me – why would they come -here- when there are so many places more compatible and easier for them to reach?”

Fujira spoke up. “Perhaps they are looking for something specific? This world seems to collect all manner of weird artifacts that give people super-powers. Maybe they lost one of them and want it back.”

War Wolf looked at the second bat. “Your pet assassin may have a point, Skydancer.”

Fujira bristled. “I am no one's -pet-, gaijin.”

“Not -now-, ladies. You may have a cat fight later if you insist. Right now, we have a problem of mutual concern.”

Fujira nodded. “Hai. My apologies, Skydancer-sama.” She continued to glare at the wolf.

War Wolf took a deep breath. “Mine as well. This was not the time to bring up such things.”

“Good. Because if this -is- an invasion, you have a lot more in common than you believe. One thing that the Upsilon-Keph worldlines have in common is undead. They really -could- start a zombie plague if they're hostile.”

War Wolf's attention snapped back to the Paratemporal agent. “You... are serious.”

Fujira shuddered. “He is. He showed me a world that had succumbed. If this is such an invasion, we -must- all work together.”

Skydancer nodded. “I hope it isn't, but the threat is there. How long until the Bureau people arrive?”

War Wolf spoke into the air. “Spectra? Do you have an ETA?” She listened to the response. “About five minutes. They're sending Power Pig, Strikira, Eldritch, and Mystic Cat, with Ranger in charge.”

* * * *

Mahk was young to have been promoted to squad leader, but his Battle-priest had seen something in him and given him the chance to prove himself. If he studied hard and proved to be able to channel the power of the Gods, Pelleas had told him, he could one day rise to Battle-priest himself – or even higher. <And that would be a fine thing for the son of a peasant charcoal-burner.> And now the chance had come to be on a mission under the eye of the Master himself. Success would bring promotions and honor; on the other hand, failure would likely bring the opposite, and having failure be the result of your own mistakes would be worse than fatal. <You can't gain fame and fortune by staying safe, Mahk. So tonight you will not screw up.>

Pelleas had detailed him to scout beyond the immediate perimeter of the gateway spell. He'd made it to the southern edge of the park, and in spite of his determination to do the best job he could, he could not help but crouch in concealment and marvel at the riches this land possessed. He frowned at the wagon that approached with flashing red and white lights. When it stopped, and three furs wearing eye-masks got out, he paid close attention. When a fourth arrived on a two-wheeled... something, and a fifth floated down from the sky, he ghosted back into the trees. <Most of the people here may be soft, but these are not. And the bear and the wolf look very dangerous indeed. Time to warn Pelleas.>

* * * *

“At -least- five of them, Battle-priest. A bear, a wolf, what appeared to be a half-breed wolf, a cat, and a boar – he was the one who flew. I withdrew when they started moving in our direction. There could be others.”

The bull nodded. “You made the right decision, Mahk. Take command of your squad and prepare for a fight – but do not attack unless they start it, or I give the order.”

Mahk snapped to attention. “As you command.” He gathered his squad in and gave the necessary instructions while Pelleas turned to Heikio.

“They seem to have noticed our arrival. Shall we try to parley, or attack first?”

The hawk frowned. “The Master wants to know their prowess in battle, but it will not hurt to parley first. Anything we can find out will be useful, and we can always fight later. Hard to fight first and then parley.”

“As you say. Do you wish to speak for us, or observe?”

“You may speak. Let us see what their first response will be.”

* * * *

Spectra joined the Bureau group shortly after they arrived. “War Wolf and the others are keeping an eye on our visitors. This way.” She led them into the park, following her partner's beacon.

Ranger asked the obvious question. “Others?”

“A fellow who goes by Skydancer, and claims to be an agent for an interdimensional organization of some sort, and a friend of his who we believe is associated with the local criminal syndicate. Skydancer's the one who tipped us off.”

Ranger nodded. “Eldritch had already noticed it. But your call certainly helped us find them a lot faster. Any idea what they're up to?”

The lioness nodded. “One of them just returned from somewhere, and they appear to be setting up for a defensive fight. I'd say they noticed your arrival.”

“A defense is understandable. And a lot friendlier than trying to set up an ambush.”

War Wolf was suddenly -there-, in front of them. “It is generally much easier to sneak up on someone when you don't arrive with strobe lights, Ranger.”

The bear shrugged. “Fastest way to get through the traffic, though, since we don't all fly. Spectra tells us they're setting up in a defensive posture?”

The wolf nodded curtly. “That is what it looks like, both to me and to Skydancer.” Two bats appeared beside her, the male staying between War Wolf and his female associate. “And here they are now.”

Eldritch smiled. “The bat who flits through the walls between the worlds. What brings you here?”

Skydancer smiled. “Means, or motives? For the latter, I am an explorer most of the time and a guardian when necessary. I had not intended to do much more than a survey before moving along to the next set of worldlines on my current assignment, but circumstances forced my hand. The group in the clearing is from -very- far away, and the Patrol does not approve of interdimensional conquest.”

Ranger looked at the other bat. “And you?”

“Patrol Cadet Murisaki, ma'am. The Colonel recruited me since he arrived.”

War Wolf grimaced, but stayed quiet. Ranger noted that in passing, and let the introduction stand. “I take it you know something about them... Colonel, is it?”

Skydancer shrugged. “I think that's the best translation. More of a CIA or KGB rank than a military one, though. My actual name is...” He said something that was hard for the others to follow. “But Kerry Skydancer works well enough.” He turned and pointed in the direction of the clearing. “There were eight of them when they came through, but one of them vanished almost immediately. I have not been able to reacquire her, which leads me to believe she's got some kind of concealment magic. The remaining seven are still in the clearing. They set up a transport circle after they arrived – I'm hoping that you brought a mage who can try to identify if this one is supposed to bring them reinforcements or provide them with an escape route. I would -not- advise entering the ring until we know for certain.”

Ranger nodded. “That's your job, Eldritch. Are you up to it?”

The wolf-raccoon hybrid grinned. “Easy-peasy. That kind of stuff is near the front of The Book, and it doesn't mess with my head -too- much.”

The bear turned her attention back to the bat. “Anything else?”

“I don't recognize their insignia, but I do know the language they are speaking. Orterran Common Speech, which is basically a variant of Middle English. Their home worldline is in what we call the Upsilon-Keph sector, which means that magic is quite powerful there, but higher technology is unreliable. And as I was telling War Wolf, it means that if this -is- a preliminary to an invasion, theirs is a worldline where dangerous undead creatures exist. And your worldline allows outside powers to operate without too much damping, so they could do some quite nasty things if they were so inclined.”

Strikira muttered, “Strewth. Yer sayin' they could make real zombies?”

“Definitely. One hopes that is not why they're here.”

Ranger nodded. “So what do you propose?”

Skydancer paused, apparently listening to something that nobody else could hear. “That's a good sign. The bull who looks to be in charge just broke a small branch off one of the trees. That's a truce flag in his world. They know we're here, and they're willing to talk, it seems. Do you want a translator?”

“Do we need one? You said they spoke a kind of English.”

“-Middle- English. Chaucer-style.” He shrugged. “Up to you, of course.”

Ranger glanced at Eldritch. “You can confirm that this fellow is not associated with them?”

The wolf-raccoon hybrid's eyes glowed, weirdly in reversed colors; black ringing white pupils.“Oh, mostly sure. He comes and goes from Outside, but not from the same places as the others.”

Mystic Cat nodded. “He has not told any lies, Ranger. I've been checking. A half-truth or two, but no lies.”

Ranger nodded. “I'm not good at Chaucer, so I'll take you up on that offer to translate, Colonel. But afterwards, we need to talk.”

Skydancer sighed. “I know. Official tedious questions. What did I tell you, War Wolf?”

The wolf frowned. “I would be more sympathetic if I didn't know where your recruit was working before you arrived. But if you are speaking the truth about this, I suppose you've been truthful about what you told me, as well.”

“I have not lied to you.” He grinned. “Not even about my former occupation.” He turned serious again. “Or about my offer.”

War Wolf glanced at Mystic Cat, who nodded. “Still truth.”

The wolf gave a curt nod. “Then let us see about these people.”

* * * *

Mahk had placed his two most reliable soldiers to keep watch for anyone sneaking up from another direction, and kept Graff and Tishka where he could keep an eye on them. “Remember. Keep your crossbows pointed down unless I tell you otherwise. Lord Heikio wants to talk to them first.”

Graff, predictably, whined. “How're we gonna get loot if we just stand around?”

“You're not gonna make it home with your -balls- if you ignore Heikio's orders, dung-brain. Now shut up and be ready if I give the signal.”

Five of them emerged from the trees. A bat he hadn't seen before, the cat, the half-breed, the she-bear who seemed to be in charge, and a wolf – but not the one who had dismounted from the two-wheeled magic horse. He hissed a warning. “There are at least two that I saw who aren't with them, Battle-priest.”

Pelleas nodded. “Right. Wouldn't expect them all to be in the truce party.”

The bear stepped forward, along with the bat. She was huge, taller even than the minotaur, and wore an eyemask and clothing of a mottled pattern that made her hard to see against the trees. She held a branch, in the token of parley. <Hope it means the same to them as it does to us.> The bat was small enough to be a child beside her. Pelleas stepped forward to greet them.

The bear rumbled something, her speech just on the edge of understanding. Mahk caught what might have been 'welcome' in it. The bat spoke briefly to her, and she nodded. He then spoke directly to Pelleas. “Welcome to the city of Colmaton, in the province of California. This is Ranger, who has been directed to treat with you.”

“I am Battle-priest Pelleas, of the Northland Empire.”

The bat translated that back, again taking longer than the original speech.

* * * *

“The rank is equivalent to a senior sergeant, but implies that he has access to battle magic as well as what you would consider military skills. He probably doesn't expect anyone here to know, but the Empire is usually an expansionist realm. I'd keep that in mind.”

Ranger nodded. “So ask him why they're here.”

* * * *

Pelleas kept his features impassive. The spell of comprehension did not enable him to speak the local language, but it did allow him to understand it, and the fact that the bat had -heard- of the Empire came as a shock. He waited for the official translation as he decided which of the cover stories they'd discussed would work best. This was a port city, and obviously rich... he'd go with the trade mission idea. That should appeal to merchants.

The bat smiled. “She asks why you have come here. Local custom is for nations to ask permission before sending people into another's territory, but she understands that you could not easily do so from another plane of existence.”

He made himself smile and half-bow to the bear. “Thank her for her understanding. We are here to learn of your realm, what products you need and what you make. Trade is always a useful thing between nations.”

The bear glanced at the cat when that had been translated, who shrugged. The half-breed spoke to her at that point. “The circle is outbound, not inbound. And he has spells upon him, as well as magic in his weapons.”

Pelleas again kept his face from showing anything. <And that explains why they tolerate a half-breed. This one is a powerful mage, it would seem.> He had all he could do to stay impassive at the bat's next comment. <How does he -know- these things? And how does he know our world when I did not say it?I thought that he made himself understood using magic, but he seems to know the Common Speech without spells.>

* * * *

Ranger considered the answer. “So what do you think, Colonel? A likely story?”

“Northlands is not -usually- a realm of merchant princes, but it's not unheard of. And as I said, I don't recognize their insignia, so I can't say for certain how close they are to the Orterra I know. There are always variations, and it's been a while since I've been anywhere in that sector.”

“Well, let's see what he'll say if we ask him about that missing eighth furson. Sneak up on it, ask him if this is all of them.”

* * * *

<They -know- about Marwyn? -How-?> At least he knew that they knew. <I had better stay with the truth, no matter how I have to twist my words to do so. They are -dangerous-.>

“Is this everyone? To be honest, you look more like guards than merchants.”

Pelleas forced another smile. “We -are- guards, actually. We also brought a scout, who is quietly investigating to see what she can see of your realm. She should be back by evening of the coming day. We can maintain the return spell for only so long, you see.”

“Ah, the circle. I assume that a more permanent version is possible if trade is established?”

The bull shrugged. “I would think so. I'm not a mage, I'm not really sure how these things work.” He glanced at Heikio, who made no sign. The bat noticed, though.

* * * *

“The hawk in the brown robes is probably their mage. He admits that they have another scout who's exploring.” He glanced up, frowning. “You didn't request helicopter support, did you?”

Ranger frowned. “No, why?”

“Because we have one approaching. Might be police, might be one of the news organizations. Better warn them not to get too close – I don't know if their circle would catch something overhead or not, but I doubt anyone would appreciate it if a rotor-wing accidentally got sent to Orterra.”

She nodded, and pulled out her communicator. “Power Pig?”

“Here, boss.”

“Go tell the chopper not to cross the clearing. Don't want them getting caught in that magic circle.”

“On it.”

* * * *

Mahk was the first to hear the sound over the noises of the city around them, a thuttering drone as if a monstrous insect was in the air. He called to Pelleas while the locals were talking among themselves. “Battle-priest, something approaches.”

The minotaur gestured to quiet him. “I hear it. Doubtless something under their control, they are not alarmed.” He was not sure what to make of their discussion, in fact – three different words for the same object, and none of them translated into anything he could comprehend. But the bear had sent one of her subordinates to give it instructions, so it was not randomly dangerous, at least. And then he heard the squad's oaths behind him as -something- came into view above the trees. The noise might have been a gigantic insect, and indeed it had something of an insectile appearance, perhaps a giant metal beetle. It... floated in the air, somehow, with no obvious means of support except for glints of light in a disc above it. The flying boar was next to it, which gave him a sense of size and distance. Lights blinked along its body... he glanced upward, looking for the lights he'd glimpsed farther away in the sky. Two sets were visible at the moment, and … yes. The patterns were similar, if not the same. More spinning-wing flying chariots, most likely. That probably explained the disc above the body. He forced his attention back to the bat as he spoke again.

“A helicopter of the City Guard, Battle-priest. They have no authority in this situation unless you break the peace, but they wish to observe and make sure.” He gestured. “Your circle attracted their attention.”

He nodded. “A flying wagon, then?”

“Correct. It is not itself armed, but it can observe and direct those members of the Guard who are. The soldiers here do have armed versions.”

“Is that a threat?”

“More a show of strength. They would be happy to trade, if the merchants can reach agreements. You will not find them an easy target for raids, though.”

The hawk spoke for the first time. “Them? Not us?”

“I am not a citizen of this realm, no. But even the weakest nations of this world have such things. There is no point in unpleasantness, is there? I think we would all rather have an idea of what to expect from further contact, when our rulers can send proper envoys to discuss things. What goods would you have to trade? And what sorts of things would you be interested in trading for?”

* * * *

Marwyn was being followed. The first was a small group, and inept even by the standards of ghetto footpads. The second was a single furson apparently following the first group, but -that- one was far more competent and harder to spot, so she wasn't sure. She shrugged to herself, and made sure her knives and shortsword were accessible. One thing was surely the same between this city of mages and the worst towns anywhere in Orterra – the City Watch did not bother coming into the poorer neighborhoods after dark. She smiled to herself. <The Master -did- want a report on their battle prowess. I doubt they could overcome me, and if I start to lose, there is always the Shadow Way.> She let them herd her towards a blind alley.

She smiled again when she stepped into it, ignoring the faint scent of garbage and the barrels made of yet another strange material. <Perfect for my purposes. No one can come up behind me, and there are plenty of shadows to step into if I need to escape. Let us see what they are made of.>

Four of them, perhaps five if they'd had the sense to post a lookout. All large furs. The leader was a tiger, backed up by a minotaur, a bizarrely striped stallion, and a wolverine. The tiger said something, and she strained to make sense of the local speech. It was something about 'good time'. What they -really- wanted was obvious from the way they carried themselves and looked at her.

* * * *

Lee Kwan was in a foul mood. Having to take orders from the cowardly ferret who was running the Twin Knives had made him lose face, and he needed to take out his annoyance on someone. The Goth-dressed femme who'd blundered into the Red Tigers' territory was an acceptable diversion, and the fact that she was a ferret was icing on the cake. She stopped as she realized she'd turned down a dead-end and looked back at him and his boys. “Hey, there, sweet-cheeks. How about you show us a good time, and we'll let you go?”

She was apparently -really- into her scene, play-acting all the way up to the end. “Dost thee reckon, time nae erst goot?”

“Could be worse. There's only the four of us.”

She still looked puzzled, as if she honestly didn't understand plain English. “Four... Ah, ish kennt!” She grinned, holding up fingers in a count. “Ain, twa, trey, faer?”

“Yep. One...” He pointed to himself. “Two.” He pointed to the wolverine. “Three.” To the zebra. “Four.”

The bull grumbled. “How come -I- gotta go last?”

“'Cause someone's gotta, and you went second last time.”

* * * *

They were pathetic, really. Oh, easily able to scare a maiden in the back alleys of Hvea – provided you could find one there in the first place – but by this time any doxie worth her salt would've faded away while they argued, and pinched their purses on the way past to boot. “I don't think so. Let's get on with it.”

* * * *

The ferret wasn't doing her lines properly. By now she should have been scared, and instead she seemed amused. “Ish denk nie, varra. Coom dann, brakh it zu mir.”

Lee growled, and took a step forward, but warily. She wasn't reacting like a scared tourist, and the not-quite-comprehensible language was sounding more like it was her real native language, not a put-on for effect. He couldn't help remembering what had happened to Manuel of the Knives when he thought he could take down a new super... <What if this is another one? But if I back off now...> He was almost relieved at the voice behind them. At least he could back down from a real super without too much embarrassment...

* * * *

Marwyn watched the new development with interest. <Now this is different. A female, wearing clothes that are almost a second skin, and a voice of command. Will they obey her, or...?> She wasn't too surprised when the thugs turned their backs on her to attack the green-clad raccoon. <No, they won't. A member of the City Watch, perhaps? Let us see what happens next.>

What happened next shocked the ferret. She had heard of the Way of the Empty Hand, and even met one or two practitioners in her time, but they were nothing compared to this woman. The raccoon did not wait to be attacked, but moved in to preempt them. The tiger dodged a feint and collapsed when her real attack took him in the stomach, and then -somehow- she moved out of the way of the bull when he rushed her from behind, almost as if she could see in all directions at once. The flurry of blows was almost too fast to see, and the raccoon was never there when her assailants tried to land one. <She knows what they will do before they do it, somehow. I would not have thought she could even see with that... thing she wears over her eyes. It must be a magic device of some sort.> She was so fascinated by the combat that she almost missed the tiger getting back to his feet.

* * * *

Lee got back to his hands and knees, wheezing and trying not to puke after being slammed in the gut. Miracle was taking his boys apart, and the night was going from promising to disastrous. <Maybe... one chance, masks always fall apart over hostages. Lets see if it works.> He swallowed once more and surged to his feet, pistol out as he moved to grab the ferret and hold it to her head. He grinned – she was watching Miracle beat up the rest of them. <She thinks she's safe, does she? We'll see about – urrrk!>

* * * *

<That was foolish, girl. Paying so much attention to the others that you ignore an opponent? He was down, not dead.> But she'd spotted the motion in time to react, if only barely, and the thug's attempt to grab her stopped short when she whipped her sword out from under her cloak. <Curious. Almost like he's not used to seeing one.> The thing in his hand... was not a knife, after all. Metal, though, and somehow threatening. He was bringing it up to point at her, almost as if it were some kind of one-handed crossbow. She lashed out, bringing the flat of the blade against his wrist, and the whatever-it-was discharged in a flash of fire and a horrendously loud bang. Something impacted one of the odd barrels behind her, knocking it over amid a clangor of metal against brick. And then the raccoon was there, and the tiger was down again, having bounced off the wall of the alley after she'd slammed into him. “Thanks.” She checked her sword for blood, but there was none and she slid it back into its scabbard. “That was -very- good. Four against one and they didn't stand a chance, did they?”

* * * *

Miracle zip-tied the gang's wrists. <Wonder what we have here? A new super? But she should have helped out if she was. Maybe she was surprised. Or maybe it's just a costume for a party. But she smells like she hasn't washed in a few days, you'd think she'd be cleaner for a party – and she did handle that sword like she knew what she was doing.>

The ferret watched her secure the prisoners, and spoke up as she finished. “Danks.” The blade slipped back into its scabbard with a whisper of steel against leather. “Ye ben goot, nie varra. Faer nach ain, an dey vash bairns in de wold, aye dey var.”

The raccoon turned her ears toward the ferret. “And what was that? Not English, unless it's a really obscure dialect.” Pretending she could see was long since automatic, and she turned her visored eyes in the ferret's direction. “Who are you?”

The ferret repeated the phrase, sounding as if she was unfamiliar with the vowels. “Hoo arr yu? Ye nahmen sik?”

Miracle nodded. “Nahmen. Name?” She tapped her own chest. “Miracle.” She pointed at the ferret. “You?”

“You Meer-kull?” She tapped herself. “Marwyn. Ay ben Marwyn.”

* * * *

The situation was strange. The raccoon had made no move to search the defeated thugs, but had merely secured their hands with yet another bit of that weird flexible stuff they used. She pocketed the thing that the tiger had pointed at her while the raccoon was busy with her prisoners – it was obviously some kind of weapon, though the thug had not seemed to have much skill with it, which made it exactly the sort of thing the Master would be interested in. And then it was language lessons, as she and the raccoon exchanged names and tried to establish common words. The language was maddening; one moment almost recognizable as an oddly accented form of the Common Speech, and the next it would be completely incomprehensible gibberish. Still, she seemed to have at least some authority, since she seemed completely unworried about the possibility of being seen by anyone after thrashing four people. <I could do much worse than be friendly with this one.>

Marwyn swiveled her ears in curiosity as the raccoon held up a finger and spoke in her original fashion for a moment, pausing to listen and answer as if she was holding a conversation with someone only she could hear. The moment passed, leaving her wondering if it was some kind of magic message – but the raccoon had not cast a spell of any sort. Possibly more of the magic of the eye covering she wore.

The arrival of two wagons with multiple bright flashing mage-lights was a distinctly unpleasant surprise. The shadows were suddenly shifting too quickly for her to merge with them, leaving her locked in the physical realm and vulnerable in a way she hadn't been in years. She thought about running for it, but that would take her closer to the wagons – and then she realized that the cans and boxes in the alley -did- provide more stable shadows if she had to escape. She moved back to their familiar comfort as the raccoon walked forward to talk with the uniformed furs who got out of the wagons.

* * * *

Miracle smiled as she recognized the scent and footfalls of the vixen who got out of the patrol car. “Detective Henderson! Nice to see you again.”

“Always a pleasure, Miracle. What do you have for us today?”

“Four thugs, Red Tigers I think, who were trying to assault someone. Got 'em ready for transport.”

“What about the intended victim?”

Miracle gestured deeper into the alley. “Some kind of foreigner, I dunno what language she speaks. She acts almost like an Unregistered in some ways. The tiger tried to take her hostage at the end and she pulled a sword on him. He took a shot at her, but missed. I can't find the gun, though.”

“Hmmm. There's something going down at Peterson Park, the Bureau was called in. Some kind of big magic circle and a group that came through it. They put out an APB a few minutes ago that one of them was out in the city somewhere and to keep our eyes open for a female with medieval clothing and weapons. Think this could be her?”

The raccoon frowned. “Maybe. What are your orders about her?”

“No orders, really, just warning us that she's out there. If we find her, we're supposed to make allowances and offer assistance. The Bureau folks are negotiating with the arrivals, so far it's friendly, and for the moment they're being extended diplomatic immunity on Ranger's recommendation.”

Miracle nodded, and turned to aim blind eyes down the alley. “Marwyn? Come out. They're friends.”

“Nie want lights, y'ken?”

Henderson chuckled. “She doesn't like the emergency flashers, I take it?”

“Guess not. Can you shut them down?”

“Soon as we get the Tigers loaded up. They're working on the last of them now. I'll see if they can patch me through to the BoS group, in case this is the one they were talking about.”

* * * *

<These must be the City Guard,> she thought. The wagons were both painted in the same colors and sported the same coat of arms. And yet the uniformed furs seemed to defer to the green-clad raccoon, and were hauling her victims to the larger wagon after reciting the same litany over each of them. If it was a spell to hold them, she could sense no magic, and it didn't seem to keep the conscious ones from struggling and yelling epithets as they were loaded into it. And then the raccoon gestured for her to come forward, saying they were friends. She snorted to herself. City Guard, friends? That'd be even crazier than the rest of this place.

“No want lights, understand?” The two chattered about it for a bit, and then they finished loading the tiger into the large wagon and it drove off, taking its lights with it. The vixen shut down the ones on the other wagon. The shadows stabilized at last, and she came forward, far more confident now that she could bond with them properly again.

* * * *

{Colonel? I may have located the missing Orterran.}

{Where?} He held up a hand to pause the translation he was conducting. “We may have our missing scout, Ranger.”

{Police traffic regarding an attempted assault on a ferret who does not speak any known language, and who used a sword in self-defense against her assailants. An unregistered heroine by the name of Miracle is involved.}

{We've met. The raccoon who had us under surveillance a month ago.}

The AI paused while it sorted through data. {The raccoon in green?}

{Yes. Stand by, Mycroft.} He turned back to the others. “Can any of you get in touch with Miracle? She may have contacted their scout.”

The Bureau furs looked at each other. “She's Strikira's friend.” Ranger glanced at War Wolf. “What about you?”

The wolf gave Skydancer a glare. “I can, but I'd rather not while -he's- listening. He's already compromised some of my communications.”

Skydancer chuckled. “As if we both don't know you're going to rewrite your protocols after finding that out. It took poor Mycroft weeks to crack your current one.” War Wolf continued to glare at him. “Oh, fine, then. I'll work through the police network, instead. It'll probably be easier to talk directly to all of them that way anyhow.”

* * * *

Pelleas was shocked for a moment at the idea that they had managed to -find- the shadow-walker. As the side conversation went on, he got the impression that she had allowed it, possibly to find out how good the locals were at street fighting – but that allowed him to be shocked at the other implicit ability. His spell of comprehension was again trying to deal with things he had no words to describe, but somehow these people could talk to their absent fellows as if they were together - and if there was a spell involved it was no magic he could sense. The cat and the half-breed blazed in his detection spell, and the bat had a few traces, but the bear and the wolf had none, and it was the bear who was doing most of the talking. The small box she spoke to, and which answered her, bore no magic at all. <I hope that the Master -does- decide to trade with these people. If their -warriors- can do this, we could not hope to win in battle.> He looked up uneasily at the hovering beetle shape of the 'helicopter'. <And the implication was that such a thing allows their officers to control a battle from above, so they probably can indeed do so.>

* * * *

“And... Mycroft says you're patched in, Ranger. Go ahead.”

The bear shook her head. The ability of this Colonel Skydancer to fiddle so easily with Bureau and even War Wolf's communications was something she found deeply disturbing, but in spite of War Wolf's implication that 'Cadet Murisaki' was actually a gangster, he seemed to be helpful enough. And he could either fool Mystic Cat's truth spell, or he was being honest about things, as incredible as his claims were. <We -definitely- need to talk, afterwards.> She cleared her throat and hit the 'transmit' button. “Detective Henderson? This is Ranger from the Bureau. I understand that you and Miracle may have located someone involved in our current mission?”

“She matches the APB, Ranger. What there was of it. She's carrying a sword, dressed oddly, and I'd swear she fades into the shadows if you're not watching her closely. Plus whatever language she speaks, it isn't one either of us recognizes. She's friendly enough, though. Miracle rescued her from a small group of street thugs, although the way she tells it, she may actually have rescued -them- from getting sliced and diced by her. Right now they're trying to communicate.”

“If she's who we think she is, we've got someone here who can talk to her. Can you put her on the radio?”

“I can try... just a second. Miracle? Can you bring Ms. Marwyn over here?” A pause, and she continued. “Yep, they're coming over.”

Ranger nodded in satisfaction. “Good. I hate having loose ends flapping about. Colonel? Ask her if she would prefer a guided tour of the city, with someone who can actually speak her language.”

* * * *

<Apparently they -can- talk across distances without even a spell to assist them, somehow. Either that, or she's holding a conversation with a magic wagon.> The vixen and the raccoon sow had both been trying to make some progress in communicating with her, but so far they'd only managed a few basic concepts, and she wasn't completely sure she understood those correctly. The vixen had turned out to have a perfectly scandalous patronymic. <What kind of people would name a femme Hender-son? I must have misunderstood that. They certainly laughed at my reaction.> The vixen had gone back to her wagon to talk some more while she tried to figure out precisely what the sow's status was. She was pretty sure that the vixen was an officer in the City Watch, but Meerakull did not wear the same uniform, nor did she dress like the majority of the people she'd seen. Perhaps it was the clothing of her Order, or whatever the practitioners of her fighting style called themselves here. She glanced up as the vixen called their names. “Ya?”

The officer gabbled something, and the raccoon smiled. “Come with. Have one can speak you?”

She nodded, and followed her over to the wagon. <This should be interesting. They have someone on the other side of the box who knows the Common Speech?> She watched the vixen chat with the thing – the basic idea seemed easy enough, you pushed a bit of it in to talk, and released it to listen. It was attached to something much more complicated by a most curious bit of stretchy coiled cord, and as she got close, she realized that the complex part was where the voices came from.

“Hello. Can you understand me?”

Marwyn grinned, and pushed the speaking part when the vixen gestured. “Yes, I can. Though I am not sure how you know a language of Orterra. Have you been there?”

“Well, I've been to -an- Orterra. It was quite a while back, though. As you might have guessed, I'm not native to this plane either. But I've offered my services as a translator to the local officials. I'm back at your arrival point, currently making Battle-priest Pelleas quite uncomfortable. I don't think he likes the idea of [radio].”

“That is what you call this speaking-across-distance? It is certainly a puissant magic.”

“In a sense, yes, though it is not what you call magic at home. I hope you have not had much trouble while exploring the city?”

“It is truly an amazing place. There was a bit of difficulty with some local cutpurses, but they were dealt with by one of the local... I do not know what you call their order. They wear green, and are masters of the Empty Hand.”

“That sounds like Miracle. A raccoon?”

“Yes! Yes, that was what she called herself. It is her order, not her name?”

“No, it's her name, at least in a sense. Sort of an official alias. The masked ones are heroes whose true identities are kept secret. They form... a brotherhood of sorts, and each has his or her own abilities, and his or her own uniform. Their duties are to keep the peace, and protect the common folk from those who have the power to be of their brotherhood but who choose to be bandits and criminals instead.”

“This sounds... confusing.”

“Wait until you hear about how their government works. I have been asked to offer you, the Battle-priest, and anyone else you wish to take from your group a proper tour of the city, to give you an idea of what we can provide as a trading partner.”

“Pelleas is there? Can I talk to him as well?”

There was a pause, and then the voice came back. “Certainly.”

There was a bit of background shuffling, and the minotaur's voice came through the box, using Koruka instead of the Common. “You might as well come back, they spotted us almost as soon as we arrived. They've offered to show us what we want to see, or at least what we've led them to believe we want to see - I really don't think we want to start a fight with them.”

She replied in the same language. “As it turns out, I did see something of their fighting ability, and I managed to acquire one of their weapons, took it from one of the cutpurses who thought they were going to have their way with me.”

“Well, that's good. I take it they didn't succeed?”

“Of course not. They wouldn't have anyway, but I didn't have to stop them myself. One of their paladins did it for me, and -she- I would not like to face in battle. I'll rejoin you soon. I think they're going to offer me a ride in one of their wagons.”

* * * *

The bull had been persuaded to speak with his missing scout over the radio, which he found both impressive and disturbing, judging by his expression. Ranger looked at Skydancer, her eyebrows flat. “That's not the same language, is it?”

“No. It's not one I speak, either.” The bat winked up at the bear while his back was to the Orterrans. She took the hint and didn't question that statement in front of them. “So how do you want to do this? Use a helicopter? Or ground transport?”

“Ground. I'm thinking of showing them one of the shopping malls, the waterfront, and if there's time, a museum.”

Skydancer nodded. “That should be a good mix. Give them an idea of what you have, and what kind of quantities you can move. Orterran economics runs to feudal-level agriculture and crafts, buffed up a bit by the application of magic to enhance agricultural fertility. If they're serious about trade, I suspect that they'll be a hit with the organic food crowd, possibly supply some new spices, and provide raw materials. I seem to recall that gold and silver are a lot more common there than here, and then there's magic-based alloys like mithril and adamantine. Not sure what you could do with them, but I'm sure that the engineers will figure out something if they have access to a regular supply of it.”

Ranger nodded. “Then let's give them the tour. We've got the police and a few Bureau folks to keep tourists and brainless reporters from wandering into their circle while we're gone.”

* * * *

The 'nearest' Paratemporal Patrol base was located in 150-298-Tau-Lamed-50-100-203. Psionics held sway there, rather than super-powers, and Sol III was, in that worldline, the backwater capital of a minor star nation. The Patrol considered it an ideal location, combining advanced technology and local insignificance.

Simultaneity was a somewhat flexible concept between worldlines, particularly when some of them used different variants of physics and a few included time-travel. In this case, the travel time between worldlines was significant, and the sudden appearance of a conduit to yet a third involved distorting factors which slowed things down even more. The net effect was that Skydancer's message took hours to arrive, and hours again to return, as far as the Colmaton worldline was concerned.

The drone appeared in its dedicated slot in the techno-organic matrix of the base AI, which considered the information and the associated request for several microseconds before deciding that it did not need to consult with its superiors before approving it. A notification was sent to them, but by then the drone had already been loaded with all available information on known Upsilon-Keph worldlines, with a warning flag on the snowflake-and-sceptre insignia he had not recognized, and sent back to his current location.

TO BE CONTINUED

A Colmaton fanfic. All characters used with permission.
Colmaton universe, Ranger are the intellectual property of Train.
The Bureau, Morningstar, Power Pig, Medic Mouse, Mystic Cat belong to Mojorover
War Wolf, Spectra belong to VivaVulpes
Eldritch belongs to thecanidean
Miracle, Detective Henderson belong to samgodwsc
Strikira belongs to Wolfrider.
Other major and minor characters belong to me.