Pillow

Hope you feel better, 'Shela. Pilocanci

"Presidente," one of the Sharpein elite guard inform Pilocanci," the vampire wishes to surrender and settle terms." "I bet he does," Pilocanci snorted," Begin the attack runs with the gliders and deploy the tanks. If the vampire tries to use magic, then we have enough Pennites to counter him. I want his army to be destroyed to the man. If we can, I want the vampire captured. If nothing else, we can lock him inside a tanning bed and extract information out of him. If he runs, he'll go straight to his master. I want to avoid that." "Yes, sir," the guard informed. About that time, Mr. Pawell and General Barker came up to Pilocanci. "Welcome to the Pen, General." "Thank you, Presidente," General Barker bowwed," I see that word of our troops getting here has reached your ears?" "Yes," Pilocanci affirmed," And it is a god-send. What news of Wrinklestan?" "The U.C.N. still has military control over the country for now. We have been receiving both weapons and financial support from Weingerland. The Huskians are sending a few special forces units the reinforce our cells in Wrinklestan. They were kind enough to loan us several static net launchers with ammunition. We brought a few with us." "I remember those," Mr. Pawell stated," don't they destablize electro-magnetic fields generated by both biological and mechanical sources?" "Not only that, but 'magical' ones as well," the general smiled. "I was wondering, Presidente; do we still have the Shristag fuel source captured from the New Fleasians?" "Yes," Pilocanci informed," It is in a small bunker under the Keep. We will move it to the air base as soon as it's completed."

The following months grew into years. As the Ganaffi children grow stronger, so did their skills in combat. At the age of thriteen, Juna was offered to train with the other youth of the Red Wolf Clan. Her mother was considered an inactive member of the clan and retained her place of rank she had before she was widowed. This gave her the right of having her children be accepted into the clan upon the completion of their training. Juna was excited as Lord Sagan and his group of commanders came by personally to retieve her. She took only a few changes of clothing, for that is all she would need. The training took six years to complete, but she felt she was ready for that. Hugging her mother and grandmother and bidding them farewell,she climbed onto a warstag. As the group left, Juna turned for one last look at the place she had called home for so many years. Even as she rode away from the place she called home for so many years, she knew she was doing so to become something, someone better then she was. Each of the other Ganaffi children, Boslio, Saria, and finally Yan Yan, followed in Juna's footsteps. Juna, Boslio, and Saria all went into the Warrior's Corps. Yan Yan, however, trained for the Scouts. Like his Uncle, Davica, he showed a gift for stealth and tracking. He would stay gone into the forests around Skyfire Lake for days at a time. His mother never worried about him, for he was strong and able. During the summer time months, Davica showed him many of the different skills of the scout. Yan Yan learned fast for one of his age. Though he lacked in swordsmanship, he excelled with the crossbow and throwing daggers. Davica himself escored Yan Yan to the Scout's training camp. During the morning and afternoons, he fine tuned his skills to razor sharpness.

For a moment, silence fills the air. Then, a loud screech lets loose over head as a Sharpein combat glider flies low over the heads of the undead army in a warning pass. The glider arcs high in a wide turn, making another strifing run. "This is Presidente Georg W. Pilocanci," A voice from inside the compound said over a loud speaker. The voice was understandible to all due to the newly finished translators the Sharpeins had made. "You will order your army to stand down now or I will be forced to have my combat gliders and tanks engage and destroy your army! You have five minutes to comply!" Pilocanci put down the microphone and headed over to the make-shift hanger to finish readying his glider. He know the vampire wouldn't surrender without taking a lot of casualties. If it was war he wanted, it was war he was going to get!

Pilocanci looked over the damage done to Immerpool as displayed on the monitor infront of him. The sub-orbital recon satellite, Arch Angel one, beamed back images of the choas and destruction. In a small window on the screen, a live video feed showed the face of one of the Arch Angel's crew. Commander Brisker had a grim look on his face as he spoke to Pilocanci," As you can see, sir, there is massive damage to the town. The local militia put up a heroic, but vain resistance. they managed to kill one dragon, but three more showwed up and pretty much leveled the town. The dragons were spotted moving Northeast from Immerpool into the Ravenskull Mountains. We tried to scan the mountians for their lairs but there is a large presence of Iron ore that is playing havoc with our geologic readers. In short, we lost them." "Any idea what could have provoke this attack," Pilocanci asked. A Sharpein with dark blue fur (very rare in Sharpeins) spoke up,"Mr. President?" "Yes, Captian Mussel?" The female intellegence officer straightened up a little," From our data gleaned from the records of the Keep, we have assertained that long ago the city of Immerpool was a refugee camp for some to escape a totilatarian government lead by a cabal of dark wizards. Appearently, the wizards vowed revenge on the refugees, but that was over a hundred years ago. Since then, Immerpool had grown into a large port city. It was our second choice for a base of operations if the Pennites refused us." "So you think that these dragons that attacked Immerpool were controlled by the wizards," Pilocanci inquired. "We don't know yet, sir," Captain Mussel answered," Although that is a likely scenario, it doesn't mean it's the right one. No one's heard from the group, which call themselves the Order of the White Lance. From what little intellegence we have on them, they are religous zealots that spent centuries studying magic. They set up a totilatarian mageocracy. With cruelty and terror, they made the citizen's lives a virtual hell. Those that tried to escape and were caught got boiled in lead." "And I thought I was a vicious ruler," Pilocanci mused,"thank you, Captian Mussel. Here's what we are going to do; I want air patrols every six hours." Mr Pawell nodded. "Commander Brisker? I want Arch Angel to fix it's orbit on that mountain range. If anything bigger then a butterfly takes off from there, notify me immediately!" "Yes, sir," Commander Brisker satuled. "Captain Mussel," Pilocanci ordered," I want you to continue to search for more information on the White Lance. If need be, hire outside intellegence outfits to cover any avenues worth looking into." Captian Mussel bowwed, then turned and left. Pilocanci knew peace for his people wasn't going to last forever, but he never thought it would be disrupted so soon after they came out of exile. It seemed as soon as they found a place to call home, soemthing dark came to threaten it. He had learned hard lessons as a leader. He people had put their lives in his hands. He knew he couldn't fail them again...

Pilocanci stood before the group of assebled Sharpeins on the parade deck of the newly completed Black Star Air Force Base outside the Keep of the Pen. Numbering one hundred and twenty total, those faithful Sharpeins that followed Pilocanci to this newly discovered realm stood in rapt attention as he began to speak. As he stood behind the podium, he began to speak," It has been a long and difficult jouney since our exile to this land. We have endured these hardships not in vain. By the grace of those who inhabit this world, we now no longer have to wander like nomads across the realms. In exchange, we built this base as a way to help defend the Keep. I want to thank you all for your hard work, personal dedication, and sacrifice. It is because of each and every one of you we have made it this far. Until we can return to our home of Wrinklestan, let us call this home, and let us call those who welcomed us here not friends, but family." A roar of applause erupted from the crowd. On the walls of the keep, several Pennites looked on at the proceedings with a mix of wonder and amusement. It had been interesting watching the little dog-like creatures construct their airbase. Most of it seemed to pop up almost overnight. The gliders that flew night missions on occasions made little sound. The Sharpeins kept to themselves mostly due to the fact that; excluding the rare one that spoke fluent Wolfish, no one could understand their langauge of barks and growls. From what a few of the Pennites could gather, the leader, former Presidente Pilocanci was having his handful of science officers working on translators for the Pennites so they could understand their new guests. All in all, there was relative peace on both sides. Later that day, Pilocanci was in Hanger 7 working on his personal combat glider, adding a new reflactor array that released a small ion cloud, disrupting projectile spells much like chaft decoys and destroys approaching missiles. Pilocanci was an expert pilot and driver. If his paws could reach the controls, he could fly it or drive it. Using a harmonic wrench to tighten the bolts on the array cover (harmonic wrenches used carefully focused sound to create controlled vibrations within a bolt to turn it into place snugly without having to physically tighen it), Pilocanci smiled as his work came to an end. He prefered to work alone on his glider on his free time. He heard footstep approach. He looked up from his aircraft to see three fellow Sharpeins; one of them his best friend, Collie Pawell. The other two he knew from the Science Center underground below the parade deck. "I'm sorry to disturb you, Mr. Presidente," Collie apologized. Pilocanci waved away the apology, not minding the interruption. "What is it Mr. Pawell," Pilocanci asked as he put away his tools. "The translators are completed," Collie informed," Also, was have an intellegence report of a disturbence in the far province Itholia, near the border of this realm." "Distrubance?" "Yes, sir," Mr Pawell confirmed," it appears as though there is a group of rogue dragons on the loose. It report is on your desk in your office." "Very well, Mr. Pawell," Pilocanci nodded," I'll head there right now."

Yeah, this ID was meant as a joke ID (like Inspector I.M.Clueless). I just got the itch to write this story and forgot to change IDs.

Wow. Nice poems, both of you. I'm not much for poetry. Only write it when my muse gets the itch to. However, I'm alright at short stories... Pilocanci

From deep within the house, a low rummbling can be heard and felt. It begins to get louder and louder until it's right outside the room that the spirit was fought in. With a loud crash, a 'dooker tank', roughly as tall as a man and wide as a bull, crashes through a wall. The main septic cannon lowers at the group. Before anyone could react to this intrusion, a hatch opens and Pilocanci the Unholy hoists himself up into view. Looking around the room, he shakes his head. In Sharpein he asks ,"I'm too late?"

Hope you get to feeling better soon, 'Shela

Maybe some indication of where the orcs fit into the tale, a paragraph or even a line indicating two young lovers catching a moment's respite from an ongoing battle with orcs from the nearby mountains or something. (please forgive me for presuming to dictate a possible path to the story) I just think some indication of where orcs fit into the picture might be possible without disrupting the flow of the story. Just as their removal wouldn't hurt that much in the slightest. Maybe there's some other reason for a pair of dragons to attack small town? I'm impressed that you even considered it worthy enough to reread! This is just a small blurb (originally planned as a finished product) of a growing storyline. I was at work today listening to my mp3 player and more just came into existence as I worked. I'll post it later (my date drank me under the table tonight ) when I have more time and coordenation... Jason AKA: Pillow

Nanthi looked out over the crystal waters of the Sagrisa Sea, at the slowly disappearing shore of Immerpool. It was her home and the home of her only love, Joth. A great billowing plume of smoke arose as the great Tower of Istil-shanthi collapsed upon itself, sending clouds of hot ash and debries into the midmorning sky. Nanthi stood at the edge of the boat, tears streaking down her face in ever-flowing drops. Joth was really gone. The attack happened quickly. No one thought that dragons would ever attack here. Joth and Nanthi were cuddling in each other's arms greeting the morning sun by the seawall. Joth was getting promoted to sargent later on. His captian pulled a string or two to get him the position. He felt her warm body cradled in his arms and smelled her her scent; it was like rose petels after a light rain. With the roar and crash of the waves at the base of the sea wall ten meters down, the first rays of the sun began to chase away the shadowy twilight. The salty air was stirred lazily by a soft wind from the East. Nanthi nuzzled Joth's strong arms, letting out a loving sigh. Joth kissed her on top of her head. Joth broke the peaceful reverie,"Nan?" "Hmm," her ears perked up. "I'm umm," he stammered. His face was flush and blushing. He had said those three little words to her before, but now, when he needed his words, his thoughts; they elused him. Joth had known Nanthi since childhood. They had been fast friends almost as soon as they had meet. Joth had always felt there was something more then friendship between them. It was like a celestral bond between them. Little did he realize that Nanthi felt the exact same way. Nothing more then a few words seperated them from this realization within each other. Yet the words left Joth there with Nanthi on the sea wall. He gave a light sigh of internal frustration before giving Nanthi a light squeezing hug. "What," Nanthi inquired. "Nothing," Joth muttered," just thinking out loud." Nanthi turned in his arms to look into his eyes. She gave a small loving smile and a quick kiss before snuggling back against his arms. For a brief moment, the image of Nanthi's perfect green eyes invaded his mind. Then it dawned on him. She already knew! he could see it in that look she had just given him. A wash of fear flooded him, but evaporated like morning dew in the newly risen sun. He felt his heart skip a beat as a tear of joy formed in the corner of his eye. He thought about wiping it away, but didn't; couldn't. It was now a symbol of understanding between them, a symbol of love. Joth smiled as the tear fell from his cheek and onto the shirt covering Nanthi's shoulder. "I love you, Nanthi." Though she had heard these words from Joth before, the tone and feeling in them was deeper then anything she had felt from him before. Again, she turned in his arms to face him. She saw the streak left by the tear on his cheek and the expression of sheer love on his face. She felt that welling of emotion being brought to the surface from deep within her own soul. She peered into his chocolet colored eyes as he asked that one question that would carve itself into her memory for the rest of her life along with the answer that would follow. in that one perfect moment in both of their lives, Joth asked,"Will you marry me?" It took her a full minute to answer, for, though she expected it to come, the shock of the question overwhelmed her. "Yes, I will," she answered, embracing him, never wanting to let go. That's when the shadow of the first red dragon flew over head. The warning from battle horns was sounded as men raced to the battlements. Another dragon appeared in the sky, sending a lance of flame down upon a crowded street below. The screams of the dying and wounded filled the air, competing with the gutteral roar and hiss of dragon's fire. They watched as a battlement was awash in dark blue flame as a dragon swooped low, raining death from it's mouth. Joth knew he had to get Nanthi to the harbor, and onto a boat to safety. In a jolt, both of them were on their feet. Joth pulled nanthi in the idrection of the docks, hoping beyond hope to get there before the dragons destroyed it. As they ran, a complement of longbowmen haphazardly formed a group along an empty avenue, notching arrows as quickly as possible. One of the dragons saw the group and made a diving run at them. Inhaling air into it's great lungs, the red breast prepared to drown them in a sea of flame. The longbowmen released their volley into the monster, to it's suprise. A few arrows struck it inside the mouth, but the most damaging was the one that found it's home in the creature's right eye. Turning it's head in pain, the half blinded dragon didn't see that it was close to the Tower of Istil-shanthi Crashing into it. The beast, a hundred feet from the ground, was half-way buried inside the tower, but it was dead. Bricks and mortor rained down on those below, crushing bones and injurying muscle. Some lay in heaps and piles from the deadly shower. The tower shuddered from the impact of the dragon. A rain of flame raked down a street after Joth and Nanthi. Faster and faster, it approached the two lovers. Thinking quickly, Joth turns down a small alley, yanking Nanthi along behind him. Heat from the dragon's breath continued down the street. Nanthi moaned in agony. Joth looked at her, seeing her shirt on the left side singed. Nanthi flinched as Joth slowly reached over and lifted her sleave. It skin was blistered and burned. Nanthi bit her lip through the pin, but fought back the urge to cry out. "We've got to get to the docks," Joth stated. Nodding, Nanthi got up and followed Joth once more through the backalleys of Immerpool. After a few more minutes, they made it to the harbor. Many of the boats were in the process of casting off. One small boat, a fishing boat, sat moored to the dock. A couple of fishermen saw the two and motioned for them to come aboard quickly. Joth and Nanthi ran to the boat. Joth was helping Nanthi aboard when he heard the first section of the great tower collapse. Dust was kicked up into the air, making it hard to see and breathJoth heard screams and saw the outlines of people limping in the hazy dust. A woman yelled,"Help me, for the love of the Gods, help me!" Similar pleas and cries for help arose. Joth couldn't ignore them. Looking into Nanthi's eyes, he said,"I'll be back." before she could protest, he was sprinting toward the helpless people trapped by the collapsing tower. He pulled his shirt over his mouth and nose to breath a little easier. His lungs tingled as he made his way to a woman trapped under a a fallen column that had pinned her leg. As best as he could and with all his might, he roll the stone off of her. her leg was smashed beyond use. Scooping her up in his arms, he make his way back to the boat where the fishermen and Nanthi were waiting apprehensively. Nanthi released a relieved sigh. Joth lowered the woman in the boat, informing them of the woman's leg. He went back into the haze and dust three more times. Each time, he brought someone else out of the ruined tower. The last person he helped, a young man about Joth and Nanthi's age with a nasty cut on the top of his head, was helped into the boat. "There's a girl still inside the rubble," Joth reported. He smiled at Nanthi, looking into her eyes for the last time. Finally, he turned back to the ruins to save the girl. More bricks and mortal dust filled the air as the structure of the tower that remained erect faltered a little, Joth called out to the girl. She weaking moaned as Joth blindly groped in the dusty darkness. His lungs burned as did his eyes. Almost accidently, he found the girl. She was huddled in a small alcove, caked in dust and sobbing in fear. Joth comforted her as he picked her up. She clung to him, hoping he'd be able to protect her. He stubbled over large chunks of rock and stone. As they made their way out, the dragon struck the tower with it's tail, causing a huge section to come down on top of Joth and the little girl, burying them both. At the harbor, nanthi wailed in horror and heartbreak. The dragon's attention began to focus on the harbor now. The fishermen quickly cast off. Nanthi tried to get back on the dock and to Joth, but was pulled back into the boat. A burly fisherman who held her said,"There's nothing we can do for him. I'm sorry but we have to leave now!" The small one masted boat hoisted it's lone sail in an effort to catch the wind to make good their escape. The sail unfurled, using the winds to propel the boat to the safety of the sea. Now, Nanthi watched as the last speck of land dissappeared pver the horizon. She turned her gaze down to the crystal shimmer of the ocean. "Good bye Joth," she said as numbness overcame her,"Until we meet again." When she uttered those last few words, she took a step over the side of the boat, sinking into the watery imbrace of the ocean. 'Soon I will be with you, Joth,' she thought as her mind got foggy and a sleepiness brought by drowning filled her being,'Soon.' The End

"Presidente," Collie Pawell informed the former Sharpein dictator,"The first of our gliders are ready for take off." Pilocanci nodded," Very well. Arm it with duster missiles and guilded plaster rounds. I will pilot it myself!" Jawl Arfcroft padded over to Pilocanci,"Mr. Presidente," the brown and black spotted sharpein informed,"According to intellegence reports from that mercenary squarrel commando force we hired, a large area of the population south of here have turned into zombies." " I see," Pilocanci commented,"What do we have that can take down zombies?" "We have the 'Dooker" tank," Mr. Pawell offered. The 'dooker' tank was more or less a large armored septic tank on wheeels that had a modified water cannon that could knock down an advancing charge from an attacking army. The smell wouldn't do much to the zombies, but the acidic discharge that was flushed through would rapidly disolve the bodies of the undead. Pilocanci could drive it, and Mr. Pawell could load the septic cannon, but they would need someone to fire the darned thing. Looking around, he saw a likily canadate in Brygad. "Mr. Pawell, could you ask that gentleman there if he could give us some help?" "I'll see what I can do, Mr. President," Mr. Pawell offered before trotting over to Brygad. In Nrygad's native tongue, the Sharpein former Secretary of State asked Brygad,"Excuse me, but I was wondering if you could lend us a hand?" Brygad looked down at the small dog, puzzled, as Mr. Pawell explained what the Shapeins needed.

*Pillow finishes his drink and looks down the stairs leading to the haunted house* "Hmm," the former dictator of Wrinklestan muttered," I wonder where that tunnel leads." Feeling adventurous, Pilocanci trots down the stairs and into the house...*

*Collie Pawell walks over to both Tanuchan and Pilocanci. In Sharpein, the former Secretary of State informs the ousted Presidente of Vanessa's wakening.* "Very good, Mr. Pawell,"Pilocanci complements," You understand Wolfish, right?" "Yes, sir," the black-colored Sharpein answered after looking at the wolf laying down near them," Do you want me to translate for you?" "If you would be so kind, Mr. Pawell." Secretary of State (former) Pawell translated for the former dictator. Pilocanci began. "Ms. Tanuchan, I am former Presidente Policanci. I can see that you are fatigued, and I apologise for this inconveniance. I came here as a political refugee with my staff. I was wanting to see if you knew how to fly a glider. We have seven war gliders and only myself and Mr. Arfcroft as pilots. the gliders can be ready in two hours to help fight the demon outside of the gates, but with no one else to fly the other five, we won't have enough firepower in the air to matter. If you or someone else has any piloting skills, it would be greatly appreciated if you would aid us. I'll explain our presence here later when there is more time."

*Pillow looks at his drink and wonders if it was spiked with LSD. Shrugging, he continues to enjoy his drink.*

*Pilocanci the Unholy walks out of his temperary quarters with four other sharpeins; his political cabinet. Collie Pawell, Pilocanci's secretary of state, informed the ousted Presidente of the situation outside.* "Hmm," Pilocanci replied," how soon can we get our gliders off the ground?" "Two hours, Presidente," Pawell answered," but we don't have any pilots." "I forgot about that," Pilocanci sighed. "What about magic," Secretary of Investigation Jawl Arfcroft suggested. "Good idea," Pilocanci cheerfully replied," Who's that?" Pilocanci pointed with a paw at Tanuchan. "Tanuchan, Presidente," Pawell stated," she's a shape changer." "Very well," Pilocanci said," go use some smelling salts to wake up the human that fainted. I'll see if I can enlist this 'Tanuchan' for some help." As his political cabinet went to revive Vanessa, Pillow walks over to Tanuchan, who has just finished her spell. In his native Sharpein, he adresses the Tanuki," Good day. I am former Presidente Georg W. Pilocanci. I was politely wondering if I could enlist your aid?"

*Walking through the door, Pilocanci (A.K.A.: Pillow) observes the room where the party is taking place. With a green military cap complete with red star pin, Pillow trots to the wet bar. He looks like a small white sharpei the size of a large racoon. He looks up at Yan Yan, who is fixing drinks at the bar.* *In Sharpein* "You there! Make me a rum and coke, now!" *Yan Yan hears* "Bark, bark, yip-bark." "Ah, what a cute doggy," Yan Yan says as he pets Pillow," you want a belly rub, boy? Do ya?" Pillow rages, *" How dare you! If I still had my elite guard, I'd have you taken outside and shot! I want rum and coke NOW!* *Yan Yan smiles and pulls out a red rubber ball. Yan Yan throws the ball, saying," Go get it, boy! Go get the ball!" * Pillow watches the ball sail to the other side of the room, then turns his eyes back to Yan Yan in an angry glare. Standing on his back legs, Pillow weaves a magical sigil in the air with his front paws. "Aww," Yan Yan observes," Hey, everyone, the cute doggy is doing a dance." Just as Yan Yan finishes the sentence, he feels himself shrinking to the size and shape of a flea. The room is filled with a stunned silence as the new comer fixes his own rum and coke, drinking it from a straw.*

*Pillow trots into the recruiting office and sees the quill and partchment on the desk below a sign that says 'applications'. 'A quill,' Pilocanci the Unholy huffs,' how primative!' Reaching into the folds of his skin, he retrieves a small laptop and mini printer. Turning them on, Pilocanci begins to write.* The Tale of a Dictator By: Pilocanci the Unholy (A.K.A: Pillow) I was born in a small hamlet near the Wrinklestan/New Fleasian border. I can't remember the name of the hamlet; I had it razed and burned for not paying taxes, I think. I grew up learning magic, politics, and strong arm military force. I briefly entered military service as a glider pilot during the Canidain War, serving in the reserves. After the war, I went into politics; eventually becoming Prefect of a large territory in the southern region of Wrinklestan. After fixing the election for presidente, I had finally assended to the highest position in Wrinklestan. I ruled with a somewhat deceitful hand, I'll admit, but it was for the good of the people. I could have been a 'dog of the people', only they don't bribe nearly as well as the elite corperations and international kibble syndicates. Then, I found out some interesting news. New Fleasian had a new fuel technology that just begged to be taken. So, with little provication, I began massing my armies at the New Fleasian border. Even though I was a virtual dictator, I kept up the charade of democracy my nation had before I took office. Therefore, I had to lobby the U.C.N. (United Canine Nations) for approval for an invasion. That being the case, I had my intelligence network fake reports of MWD (Weapons of Mass Disfuntion) to submit to the U.C.N. It met with much resistance in the U.N.C. Many nations vetoed the war. With that, I invaded New Fleasian. It wasn't a pretty picture. Snubbing the entire world probibily wasn't my brightest idea ever. I managed to take over New Fleasian and steal their fuel technology, but was attacked by a coalition of U.C.N forces. Forced to step down as Presidente, I turned my political cabinet into fleas (I can only do that to a handful of people at once) and went into exile; one day hoping to return to power... The End *Pilocanci finishes printing up the document and places it on Wyvern's desk, waiting for the Almost Dragon's reply.*