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Brian's adrenaline rush had slowly run its course, putting the freezing environment into its proper place rather than the invigorating welcome from the lava pit they had climbed out from. As much as his pride hated for him to admit it, without Krystal he would have died down there. She was quite a decent soldier, and her telepathic abilities had saved his life more than once in the past half-hour. He turned away from the stone archway he was guarding to see the captive Snowhorn gathered in a circle about a hundred meters distant, talking animatedly with Krystal. Their deep voices carried far enough for him to hear words here and there, yet the Saurian dialect they were conversing in was all Greek to him.

There wasn't much of a chance of the Sharpclaw mounting another attack on them, however. The archway looked over a deep ravine with some sort of drawbridge across it. The bridge was closed and could only be operated from their side, which was a minor blessing for them. However, military discipline kept him in a state of readiness. They needed to be mindful of their surroundings.

A grunt from behind took his attention away from his area of responsibility. He glanced back to see Krystal struggling with a large backpack, bulging at the seams with something that looked very heavy. She set the container down with a thud, a slight smile upon her vulpine features. "They're grateful for our intervention. I was told to thank you was well. They even gave us a gift for our troubles."

"What's in the pack?" Brian's voice held a tone of incredulity, unsure what to think about receiving some massively heavy object as a gift.

"It's a cog to operate that drawbridge just up ahead. The Sharpclaw guard these to limit the places the Snowhorn can go. Since the air in the lava pit is poisonous and the bridge is blocked off, the only place for them to go is to stay here." The vixen undid the snaps holding her canteen in place, fishing it out and taking a gulp of water. "The path to the mines lies beyond that bridge, but they gave me a very stern warning. Sharpclaw aren't our only worries."

Brian blinked at her. What else could give them more grief than an army of lizardmen? The only thing he could think of was quite bad. "If that weapon teleported a few insurgents here along with me, we've got some major problems. They'll be equally or better armed than us, and many of them have decent training."

"No, they didn't mention others of your kind. They mentioned something called a Galdon. It's some beast that's supposed to be guarding the Spellstone." She put away her canteen and pulled her pack back on, struggling with the effort. "By the grace of Melos, this is heavy. It might be fifty kilos."

"You want me to get it for you?" Brian's voice was laced with concern. Sure, he had armor and a heavier loadout compared to her, but he was also not carrying most of the equipment he normally would. He could probably manage, but a shake of her head quelled any protest.

"No. The bridge is just up ahead." As they moved forward the drawbridge was clearly in view, though its mechanism was nowhere in sight. Krystal paused for a moment. Something had her hackles raised, which meant it was a good time to reach out and see what might be lurking around them.

Brian saw her stiffen, reaching for her first available weapon: the M4. He followed suit, bringing his M16 into a low ready position, scanning the area for any disturbances. "Where's the hostile?"

Her reply was terse and clipped. "In the ravine. It's a colony of creatures; some sort of scavengers. They will attack anything down there." She turned to him. "That's where the bridge mechanism is. Will you protect me from up here?" She tried to hide the spike of fear that shot through her body; this was an unexpected and possibly lethal obstacle so soon after their escape from the lava pit.

"Are you sure you don't want me to do it?" She nodded at him, only relaxing when he placed his hand on her shoulder. "You're going to have to be quick. Move in a straight line and don't deviate. I don't want to accidentally shoot you." With that he took up a firing position on the edge of the ravine, glancing down at the rushing water several meters below. There was a makeshift pier leading to the machinery controlling the bridge; a set of stone gears set into the opposite side of the ravine.

"Thank you." With a deep breath she took a step towards the ladder leading down, her thoughts picking up the hungry excitement from the creatures below. She could pinpoint them now; they were hiding in the crevices in the rock wall across from their position. "They're hiding in the far wall!" Her warning to Brian got his attention, and he could feel the intense focus he put out towards targeting any threat. For some reason it made her feel safer.

She slid down the ladder and hit the surface of the pier with a hollow clunk. Almost immediately, she could feel the creatures swarming to their holes, peering out to try attacking their new meal. A wet hiss echoed off the walls and a green blob of slime impacted against the pier only inches from the heels of her boots. At the same time, a series of cracks rang out from Brian's position, followed by a shouted command. "Keep going! I'm keeping their heads down!"

She didn't need any encouragement. Even with her heavy load, she dashed forward, not wanting to find out what the green slime would do to her. The spitting noises were drowned out by gunshots, the Marine's fire directed at any holes where he could find a flash of movement. Within seconds, she had reached the bridge machinery and begun to get to work. The pier's planks bent slightly as she dropped the pack, but Krystal didn't have the time to be concerned. She was too busy pulling the heavy cog out and wrestling it into place.

Brian directed a torrent of fire into any holes he could see, the M16's minimal recoil allowing him the chance for nearly instantaneous followup shots. As she pulled the lever to extend the drawbridge the bolt locked back, empty. The rifle was left to dangle from its sling; it was faster to pull out his pistol than to fumble with a fresh mag. His M1911 was brought up and put into play, its booming report delivering heavy .45 rounds into wherever he thought the creatures were hiding.

As Krystal ran back she raised her own rifle, putting shots into the holes with more effect than Brian had. She knew exactly where the creatures were hiding and which ones were about to spit at her. A few well-aimed shots put a stop to most of their motivation; hopefully they would consider easier prey. The vixen dashed up the ladder, slightly winded yet grateful to be alive and unharmed.

"This is going to be a nightmare." Brian growled, backing away from the ravine while replacing the magazines in both his rifle and pistol. "Inhospitable terrain and dangerous as Hell."

"But we have a job to do, and I can't think of anyone else on this planet that could do it as well as we can." She flashed him a disarming smile. "Besides, we work rather well together. We got the job done and neither of us was harmed."

"That's true." He conceded that point. Keeping their rifles trained on the creatures' holes, they made their way across the bridge. Beyond it was another obstacle; a deep gully with platforms on both sides. A constant low rumble made them aware of the danger, comprised of large boulders rolling down it at regular intervals. As they both stopped the only remark he could think of came to mind. "Please don't tell me we have to go down that."

Krystal opened her mouth to reply, but was stopped by a commotion she caught out of the corner of her eye. After a split instant she regained her voice. "Over there! He needs our help!" The sickening sight of a Snowhorn lying on the frozen ground was bad enough, yet he was being assailed by four Sharpclaw soldiers with clubs. None of them were holding anything back.

The vixen turned to rush in but was stopped by Brian's hand gently wrapping around her arm. "We're sticking together, right? They're too close to the Snowhorn to risk taking a shot, so I guess we need to get in close." Leaving his firearms alone, he slid his knife from its sheath and nodded to her.

"Keep close to me." Krystal urged, sliding her staff out of her belt and extending it. Compared to his knife it had far greater reach and utility. She had better training and more experience in close combat; experience which was needed to pull this off. The two closed in on the oblivious Sharpclaw, who were clearly enjoying exerting their power over a larger yet helpless creature. They were going to put a stop to that.

The Cerinian made the first move, stalking behind the closest Sharpclaw and delivering a vicious swat to the side of its head. The Saurian fell backwards, growling out a warning to its comrades as it clumsily blocked a strike meant for its throat. The others immediately turned their attention from the battered Snowhorn to the pair who attacked them.

Brian charged in from the side, the Marine tossing subtlety to the wind. Dodging a clumsy strike from a mace, he thrust the knife forward, eliciting a shriek of pain from the Sharpclaw he had struck. Now bleeding from a superficial wound in its side it attacked with a mixture of fear and anger, its advance halted by a combat boot slamming into its chest. While it struggled to get up the human went on the offensive, kicking the mace aside before driving the knife into his target's chest.

Krystal's senses caught the panicked emotions from the Sharpclaw right as its thought patterns were severed from the living world. The split second of hesitation caused a nearly fatal mistake on her part as a club caught her in the chest, sending her to the snow-covered ground. Her side flared with pain as two of the Sharpclaw closed in, directing strikes to her head which she barely blocked. As they wound up for a second swing she went on the offensive, driving the end of her staff into one of her attackers' throats. The strike was fatal, the Sharpclaw dropping its club to reach for its crushed larynx. Her staff parried her remaining assailant's attack as she leapt to her feet, sweeping its feet out from under it.

Brian's second Sharpclaw wasn't going to go down easy. It dropped its club at the start of the attack and produced a short sword; be barely dodged a swing which would have nearly cut his leg off. His bloody knife wasn't having much effect; his opponent's weapon had far more reach. He feinted right, tossing the knife into his left hand. The Sharpclaw lunged at him, the blade catching the side of his armor. It made a grating, scraping sound against its ceramic discs, but the attack gave him enough time to get out of the way and make the fight much more unfair. As the Sharpclaw was concentrating on the blade in his left hand, his right went for his .45. The big pistol's report thundered over the sounds of the fight and the lizardman pitched backwards, a neat, round hole punched through its forehead.

He pivoted around, bringing the M1911 into a firing position to catch the sight of Krystal's staff snapping into the last Sharpclaw's temple. The crack of bone signaled the end of the fight as the final belligerent fell. Both of them were winded, though as she made her way towards him he noticed a slight limp. "You okay?" he asked, securing his pistol in its holster.

"I got hit during the fight." She winced at the residual pain, though her padded flightsuit had taken the brunt of the blow. She was very much looking forward to retrieving the Spellstone and taking a well-deserved breather from all the action. The pace had intensified and that meant they would be pushed to the limit. However, the tone of concern in Brian's voice was a relief. They were working together better than she had hoped. "I'll be fine, just a bit sore."

She turned her attention to the Snowhorn, who was struggling to get up. As he struggled to his feet he looked at them, gratitude pouring from his heart. These two strangers had faced four of the most brutal Sharpclaw guards stationed at the mine complex and won, saving his life in the process. "Thank you, strangers. I owe you my life."

As Krystal conversed with the recently rescued mammoth, Brian glanced down at the section of armor that had borne the blunt of the blade. While Dragon Skin was rated to withstand multiple impacts from high-powered rifles it wasn't designed to deal with blades. As a result the fabric outer layer had been sliced through and some of the ceramic discs underneath were cracked. There was a decent chance that a round could penetrate if it hit that exact spot, and that was cause for a little bit of worry.

His thoughts were brought to a halt by the sensation of something curling around his shoulder. Krystal stood there with a concerned expression. "Are you hurt?" Her finger idly traced the broken section of armor, a frown forming upon her muzzle as she did so.

"No. My armor took the impact." He reached down to the area as well, his hand accidentally brushing against hers. The contact caused both of them to stiffen, expecting a reaction from the other. A quick moment passed in silence before he resumed explaining. "Uhm, if a bullet manages to hit this section again it might not be stopped effectively."

"We'll need to be careful, then." She quickly turned her head to hide the slight blush she developed, though she was unsure if he could detect it. "The Snowhorn is pretty scared. He said there's a large wooden door barring the way to the mine entrance, but it was secured. The Sharpclaw were beating him because he refused to break open it for them."

"Brave guy. But, why would they be locked out of their own perimeter? Because we were coming or something?" Something didn't add up. "Did he say what the lay of the land was past that door?"

"It's a big, open area with a large hut in the middle." Krystal closed her eyes, using visual cues from the Snowhorn's surface thoughts to complete the picture. "There are high rock walls on all sides, but there's an area up there where the Sharpclaw can watch over prisoners coming and going from the mines. It should be well defended. Perhaps they know we're coming."

"Ask him if he knows how to get that door open." As a soldier, Brian had learned long ago to trust his instincts. They were tugging at him now, almost screaming that something wasn't right. If they were trying to barricade themselves in a strongpoint in order to hamper their progress, the ones they posted outside wouldn't be trying to bash their way back in. They would have also given them guns instead of melee weapons.

The vixen turned to the mammoth standing there, and after a moment of conversation the big Saurian nodded his head. He was about twice as tall as the Humvee they had left in the shuttle, and likely weighed almost three times as much. Against a barricaded wooden door there wasn't going to be any contest. She turned back to the Marine, flashing a smile. "He will. I just told him to stay back in case any Sharpclaw come pouring out." She did, however, notice her friend's concerned expression. "Is everything okay?"

"Something about this isn't sitting right." Brian shook his head. "Except for that big badass Scales character these guys aren't incredibly sharp on tactics. This kind of a trap isn't beyond them, but they might have something up their sleeve." She gave him a confused glance. "It means they might have an unpleasant surprise in store for us, so be careful."

"How should we do this?" The problem was that she couldn't sense anything from where they were at. The door lay about fifty yards down the path, which consisted of a sturdy wooden bridge that created a passage over the gully. The silence was more or less continually broken by the scraping, bass rumble of the boulders which sped down it.

"Let me run the lead. We'll take the nearest available cover and survey the area." Brian was already preparing by putting his M16 away in preference for the M14. The rifle's scope and more powerful 7.62mm round would be invaluable if it came down to needing sniper support. "After he gets the door open tell him to make tracks and get back with the other Snowhorn."

Krystal nodded at him, turning to the Snowhorn as she started to prepare herself as best she could. "Once you get the door open, go back to the huts outside the lava pit. We took care of the Sharpclaw and freed your friends." The mammoth nodded at her, keeping silent. Her senses picked up on the gratitude, hope, and relief he felt. They were doing the right thing, saving innocent lives. Her training as a Guardian would not go to waste.

The Snowhorn marched forward, protected by Brian's and Krystal's watchful eyes and firearms. The fixed wooden bridge creaked slightly under the weight yet held up quite well. The wooden gate loomed ahead, Krystal reaching out to try to discern thought patterns from the other side. Everything was eerily quiet, as if there were no living things beyond the gate. That alone was unsettling. If there were guards present she would have picked up on their thought patterns.

As the mammoth reached the door Brian motioned Krystal behind him. "This is it. What're your senses telling you?" The familiar tight feeling in his stomach returned, an anxiety honed to usefulness with his training and combat experience. He tucked the M14's walnut stock into his shoulder, using his own body to create the natural pocket in which to provide an accurate firing platform. His left arm wrapped around the rifle's sling, using it to lock the weapon further into his body.

"I can't sense anything." Krystal's reply was tense as she followed Brian's actions. She braced her M4 against her shoulder as well as she could and adopted a similar stance. She wasn't familiar with the weapon he was using, but the telescopic sight on top indicated it to be a precision weapon for combat at long ranges. If they were going to be facing opponents from outside the range of her telepathic abilities, it would be needed.

"It's go time. Tell him to breach the door." At Brian's command she gave the Snowhorn a nod. Everyone knew what that meant. The door was stoutly constructed, perhaps eight inches of overlapping solid wood planks held together by wrought iron brackets. The crossbrace barring it was fashioned out of a single tree trunk and added another eight inches of wood to break through.

In comparison, the average adult Snowhorn stood at thirteen feet tall and weighed in at nearly nineteen thousand pounds. Even weakened by abuse and lack of food, the amount of punishment the captive Snowhorn gave the door was enough to snap its crossbrace like a twig. The heavy wooden construct flung open as if it were subjected to a hurricane, creating a cacophony of cracking wood and shrieking hinges as it was battered against the rock walls which framed it with enough force to destroy it.

Wisely, after the display of brute force the Snowhorn backed away from the opening. His mate was being held at the village the Sharpclaws used to house their work shifts, and it was a very good idea to stay away from the two aliens as they waged war against their Sharpclaw oppressors.

"Well, there goes the element of surprise." Brian's quip carried to the frozen air as they moved forward. The rock walls stretched on to frame a large natural clearing, perhaps four hundred yards in diameter. A shoddily-constructed hut stood in its center, while a treacherous path created by a narrow footbridge led to the cliffs above the bowl. In most places the rock walls stretched up to nearly a hundred feet, leaving them almost completely exposed. The tactical situation, frankly, looked pretty grim.

Krystal's senses were stretched to the limit, trying to find something, anything that could be waiting to ambush them. The silence and lack of anything except for a few snow-dwelling rodents was cause for alarm. This place shouldn't be unguarded. Unless they were focusing on a bigger threat or were already attacked...

Her thought stopped as her vision settled on a snow-covered lump in front of them. As if on cue, Brian kicked at it absentmindedly, though that stopped as the snow cascaded off the object. The glassy, dead eyes of the revealed Sharpclaw corpse stared back at them in an almost accusing manner, as if it blamed its death on them from beyond the grave.

"What the...?" Brian didn't finish his sentence. The Saurian's cause of death was readily apparent and very alarming at the same time. A neat round hole was bored into its chest, surrounded with a frozen crimson stain on its armor. The entry wound looked smaller than the muskets the Sharpclaw typically used. Where was the shooter? What was...

Brian didn't have the time to finish the thought. One second he was standing up and the next he was flat on his back in the snow. A crushing pain soaked into his chest, which caused him to look down. The armor he was wearing was once again shredded and mangled, a patch right around his heart. Simultaneously, the roaring echo of a high-powered rifle bounced off the rock walls.

"Brian!" Krystal screamed, rushing up to grab his arm and drag him further behind what little cover they had. A snapping, whizzing sound raced by her ear, followed by another echoing report. Her blood ran cold when the realization came.

She had just missed death by mere inches.