Circle the wagons!

As the ghost of Sir Tisbitt, onetime knight of Allaria and now ghostly commentator, looks on....

Synizn looked out at the band of warg riding wolfs, and felt a sneer of disdain form on his muzzle. As the green scum ride away on their large wolves, with their wolf mount tail between their legs, the demifox can't help but feel a sense of.... Satisfaction at being able to help.

Despite his light mood as he explained to his friends about his plans for the future, a small nagging doubt about his....usefulness still nibbled at the proud former dragon's heart.

His friends had explained over and over again that they didn't hold him accountable for NOT foreseeing the powerful opponent in Dragoness Moreau, sister to the vile Dragon Minestus in all but blood.

Still, despite knowing in his mind that there was nothing that he could have done to counter the magic that the dragoness had used upon him and his friends....his family.....that had captured them and transformed them into demifoxs with an Atlantian artifact (which had ushered in a whole new set of complications that had delighted the vicious dragoness as demifox nature took it's course)....Synizn felt that his powers as a mage were slipping....that he was becoming useless. Self doubt of this nature was very foreign to the former dragon, and didn't relish the feeling.

The advent of the new fangled gun helped his self-confidence VERY little!

He felt useless no more!

Yes, the newest guns....the repeating rifle and the newer bullets called magnums had played their part, but he knew within the heart that thumped proudly away in his furry chest (furry since he kept slipping into his hybrid form).... That the orcs STILL could have taken this wagon convoy. The margin in battle had somehow been evened out, and some unknown villain ha supplied these monsters with revolvers.

"Fred, whould we at least try to take one orc alive for questioning?" a young man asks from the side, still crouched behind a barrel that had served as a form of shelter as gunfire had been exchanged.

"I'd advise against it, my lord," Synizn says formally, while scanning the woods for yet more green attacks. Synizn's hand weaves in a complex pattern, and a last lone, bold....but utterly idiotic orc burst into flame. "The regular orcen filth knows little more than how to hold and use his weapon....and it useless for getting any useful information form."

"Strong in back but weak in mind, eh?" Fred 4 chuckles mirthlessly while scanning the surroundings. Astra 4 smiles briefly up at him, and then goes back to try to quiet the crying children. Brave though her infants were, the loud noises had frightened them badly!

"No, just kill them and be done with it," Fred says finally, shaking his head. "Though I'd love to get my hands on the black hearted fiend who would put so powerful of weapons in those green monster's hands."

The dead are given proper religious burials, and the wounded tended to. In private, Lord Frederigo D'Honaire, Fred 4 to his friends and associates, places a thankful hand upon Synizn's shoulder.

"Synizn....we'd have been dead back their without you," Fred says simply. "Thanks I give you, and will continue to give you, for without you....I, Astra, my children, and those who trusted me to follow me in this venture would surely be roasted meat within some orc's supper dish without your aid."

Synizn feels his heart fly in happiness. He has found his nitch in life and is happy.

1. Sir Tisbitt can see that the Orc Lord known as Sithe is.....not happy at all!

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