"Five hundred thirty-seven dead at present count. One thousand, seven hundred ninety-two with life threatening injuries at present count. Two thousand five hundred, seventy-nine with non-life-threatening injuries at present count," General Hennessey reported to the irate mayor. The military man's voice was cracking. It was always painful to report a death. After he had come back from Vietnam he had been assigned to deliver the letters to the families of dead soldiers. It was never easy. Listing them like this was just sugar coating a very big problem. "Mr. Mayor, that's over five percent of our population dead or near death."
"This is bad," Finch said. The poor kid looked like he was about to cry. Inwardly, Hennessey sighed. Hell, he was slipping into depression. He felt responsible. He didn't know how the enemy got inside, but he was sure as hell going to find out.
The mayor looked away from the window for the first time since the briefing began. Outside, this high above the streets it was hard to tell there was an attack. There weren't any destroyed buildings, no flames and smoke rising from ruins. It was a nasty deception of the early morning light. "Mr. Giles."
"Yes, sir?"
"Find Buffy, go into your books, take your Initiative and find out everything about this attack. Recruit anyone you feel you need in this matter," the mayor replied in a tone that was flat, bitter and cold. It held a menace even the mayor was surprised about. "General Hennessey, I want a list of ever person who has died: name, age, species, and occupation. And then I want to know how these things got into my town without me knowing."
"Yes, Mr. Mayor," the newly promoted general replied. His own voice held the same kind of anger as the mayor's.
"What is the situation with the other orcs? Are they moving to attack?" the mayor continued tersely.
"No, it appears that they have set up camp," reported General Hennessey. "From what our teams can determine, they have a very low adult male population. They appear malnourished as well. From our best guesses, they appear to have been fleeing from something."
"So they do not appear to have been connected with the attack?"
"No, Mr. Mayor, they do not," was the general's simple reply. "From what we can tell, they do not even appear to know we are here other than the incident with Ms. Summers."
"Keep me under advisement," the mayor replied with a nod.
"We need to reconsider our plans in case of attack," the General said. "Sunnydale was designed for peacetime in a peaceful nation. We now live in a warzone. We need contingencies in place for when this happens again."
"We will discuss that at a later time," Wilkins said, turning back towards the window and the town. "What about the people who teleported unconscious onto the University campus?"
"They are all in custody, one has died, the others are being treated for their wounds," the deputy mayor answered. "They are in police custody, not military and are restrained. Though…I admit I am a little worried." Wilkins glanced back at the younger man. Finch shrugged and glanced back at his notes. "We don't know if these are the competent cops or not."
"I will have an Initiative team take over as soon as possible," Giles said.
"Take care of some of these things and then get some sleep," the mayor ordered. "Full meeting at 12 and an address at six. You should be able to get sufficient sleep between now and then."
After a little while, the mayor was left alone. He was furious. No one, except for his selected people, was allowed to trash his town. Gathering himself, he stalked down to his secret ritual room. He cut his palm, dribbled the blood and called a friend.
"What is thy bidding, Richard," came the unearthly voice. This was different from Marv. He/She/It-This-BEING- was not the same at all. He only had three questions and then he had to wait half a year to the day before he could use it again.
"Where did they come from?"
"Ascalhorn."
"Where is Ascalhorn?"
"South and West many leagues."
"What inhabits Ascalhorn?"
"The Never Born, the Twisted Progeny and the Tainted Fey."
And the creature was gone. The mayor was left with more questions than answers.
Buffy crawled out of her cave to find the sun had already risen above the mountains. She must have been out for hours. She was dirty, exhausted and thirsty. She wanted to just go home. Unfortunately, she could not remember where she was. The Slayer had been in control the entire time so she had not taken note of her location. The flying demons had not helped either. Now she was stuck in the middle of nowhere with a bunch of orcs nearby, no food, no water and not much clothing left. At least her boots were still in good condition.
"So, pick a direction and start walking," she mused aloud. It must have been her imagination, or a trick of the wind, but she thought she heard a chuckle at that.
"Trauma to the head, torso and extremities," the EMT reported as they brought in another victim of the assault. There were currently no beds left in the hospitals and no open slots in the morgue. The attack had been bad. They were currently doing triage in the parking lot. Plenty just would not make it in this situation. Ambulances, military transports, helicopters, minivans, anything and everything else were used for transport of the wounded.
"Doesn't look too severe. Give her to a nurse," the ER doctor said.
"Harry, this is Buffy Summers' mother," the EMT argued as the color drained out of the doctor's face. The demon doctor spat out a few words one would not say to their grandmother. "She's getting the works whether you like it or not, Harry."
"Do it. I don't particularly want to join the dead," Dr. Harry replied with a wave of his hand. The demon EMTs rolled the woman in as fast as they could manage, kicked an old guy out of a bed and shanghaied all the specialists they could into working on her. After a while, they were satisfied she was getting proper care and went back to their jobs.
"What reason do I have to support you in this?" Matron Baenre asked from her ebony and spider silk throne. She was flanked by her true daughters, Quenthel and Triel. They stood over Vierna who cowered before them. This was the seventh time she had mentioned the visitation and it looked like it was going to be the seventh rejection of aid.
"I was commanded to find him, the rogue, Drizzt," Vierna pleaded to her adoptive mother. "I will not live through the Underdark and I doubt that I will be able to return him successfully on my own. There was a reason he was the Weapon Master of House – that house – at such a young age."
"And so you beg and plead," the withered old matron said with derision. She made it sound like it was equivalent to serving manure at a fancy dinner.
"Matron Mother, it is clear that she does not know her place," Triel said with a similar tone. "She forgets who she owes for her life thus far."
"Indeed," Quenthel commented darkly. "She should remember we have no reason to assist you. Nor do we see any benefit from doing so."
Vierna's heart sunk in despair. Had the Handmaiden simply told her this to taunt her? Was it some sort of punishment? If it was not, what was she doing wrong? At least she had held back the part about restarting House Do'Urden. Had she mentioned that little tidbit, she would have been dead before her mouth closed.
Above the houses of Menzoberranzan the air shook with a force that knocked the residents to the ground. A dark, twisted mist spun from a tornado. The force of the wind destroyed the compound of the twenty-third House utterly and nearly shattered the walled compound of the seventeenth. The tornado continued on, touching some houses, leaving others clear, until it reached the compound of the First House, House Baenre.
The swirling mists struck the dome of the Baenre chapel, leaving a jagged piece of empty space in the ceiling. The remains never fell, but were destroyed utterly, so not even dust remained where the mist touched. The mist of spiders coalesced into the form of a dark elf of such size that all of Menzoberranzan witnessed her presence and heard her voice. She was a creature of unnatural, deadly beauty. She pointed down at the Matron Mother with one outstretched finger.
"YVONNE BAENRE!!! YOU SHALL GIVE TO HER YOUR LOST SON!!! ALL THAT SHE REQUIRES SHALL COME FROM YOURS," the manifestation commanded in a voice that allowed for no argument. Her voice echoed across the entire city. "DO NOT QUESTION HER WORDS!!!"
With that, the manifestation spun and spun returning to mist. A moment later it was gone, leaving only destruction in its wake.
On the other side of the most famous Drow city, a certain leader of a certain mercenary band was stunned in fear. Jarlaxle Baenre said the first words that came to mind. "Oh, shit."
The Moonwood was one of the last bastions of the old great woods that once covered the southern slopes of the Spine of the World. Although the trees were not as tall as those in the more southern High Forest, they had still lived for hundreds of years, some for thousands and were larger than many human buildings. The city of Moonvines would not be called a city by most humans because most humans forget to look up. The only buildings on the floor were those few which required fire – the baker, the forge and the cookhouse. Everything else was a sweeping treetop conurbation grown, rather than built among the branches of the massive trees.
"I think we should bring her to Sunnydale," Kellindil argued. He was standing in a towering tree house with several other elves. It was the middle of the day, but the heavy trees in the Moonwood shaded so much a human would have been pressed to see well.
"I disagree. We have no knowledge that this, this…Drow can be trusted," Innovindil argued. Her husband agreed.
"No, we cannot trust her wellbeing to the chance that this Drizzt will benevolent," Tarathiel stated flatly.
"What makes you so sure this Drow is different from the others?" asked a third elf, this one a Gold Elf.
"He is living peacefully with humans first of all," answered Kellindil. "He admitted, with much regret, that he had been in the raiding party. He was quiet adamant that he was not party to the murder, though he greatly regrets not stopping his fellows. That is not something one would admit if one was trying to obfuscate the truth. But he was honest in his goal of redemption. Lady Falconhand will verify my words."
"And you say he has purple eyes, like those Ellifain spoke of?" Innovindil asked, a bit hesitant to jump headfirst into the situation.
"Yes, they are that lavender color that sends her into hysterics," Kellindil replied. The elf child, Ellifain, would sometimes break into sobs at the sight of that purple hue. It was a true shame she was unable to heal. "This may be the key to healing her soul."
"It could do more harm than good. As her current guardian, I feel it is too early to decide," said an older elf woman. She was of mixed birth, with a moon elf mother and a wood elf father. She turned back to Kellindil. "Would you go and investigate further, perhaps as an ambassador from the Moonwood? If we change our minds, we will bring her to Sunnydale. I'm sure Hallifain would be willing to escort her to the new city. But before you go, tell us some more of that city."
"It is an interesting departure from the normal human style. There are no walls, no defenses at all," he began. "From all accounts they come from a peaceful region of their world where they have no need to worry about what might come out of the mountains. There is only a small section where the buildings dominate everything. Beyond that, each house has its own yard with trees and grass that they trim down most meticulously."
"Why would they do that?" Tarathiel wondered with a raised eyebrow.
"Truthfully, I have no idea," Kellindil replied with an elven shrug. "But they ride in carriages without horses, but sound like a thunder storm and smell like something rancid burning. Honestly, it is almost enough to make one choke. Their roads are paved flat and sometimes have fields set up for these horseless carriages. They are a very strange people."
"What of these flying machines you spoke of?" another elf asked.
"They are noisy constructs which fly by spinning four wings around in a circle," the elf said. "I find it interesting and horrific all at the same time."
"What are their buildings like?" asked the older elf woman.
"They are incredibly varied," came the answer. "Some are made of stone and stand like castles, others are made of bricks or wood or any other substance. There is no uniformity of style or size. It is difficult to really describe them in any generalization. Some have one floor and wheels, others stand several stories tall, higher than many forts. Truth be told, the only way to truly understand what I mean is to look upon Sunnydale yourselves."
"I shall have to consider it," muttered Innovindil with a slight smile.
"Ah, Mr. Finn, just the man I wanted to see," Giles said, striding up to the Agent.
"Mr. Giles, you are not supposed to be here," Riley said sternly.
"Actually, I am your new boss," Giles said, handing a note from the mayor's office. "The mayor felt that Dr. Walsh was more valuable as a science advisor. As I have more experience with vampires, demons and the forces of darkness, the mayor gave me the position of combining your operation with the Watcher's Council and creating a special group designed to protect the city against said forces in conjunction with the efforts of the Slayer."
"That was…that was a mouthful," commented Agent Finn before he glanced down at the paper. The paper was quite clear. Giles was the new CO of the Initiative. Maggie would not be happy. He clipped a quick salute to Rupert Giles. "Sir, what can I do for you?"
"First of all, I need a team for an operation," Giles said as he sat down in a nearby chair.
"What kind of HST are we going after?"
"You will not be going after any demon," Giles said with a quick cleaning of his glasses. "You will be assisting the senior representatives of the Watcher's Council in finding Buffy Summers."
"Buffy's missing?" Heads turned to look at Forest and Graham who had just arrived.
"Yes, we lost contact with her during the battle last night," Giles explained. "We know that she killed or incapacitated hundreds of demons last night, but she traveled west and began a new battle there with some approaching orcs. There was some sort of disturbance and the scouts were unable to spot her. We have reason to believe she is still alive, however, we do not know where."
"West, that's mostly hills and mountains and a few lakes," Forest said. "I'd say, us, Team 2 and the good half of Team 9."
"You mean the half that doesn't annoy you?" Graham asked with a smirk. Forest returned it full-bore.
"I meant the half that has mountain experience from…various…places," Forest said with heavy suggestion.
"I assume you are referring to so called "black ops" projects?" Giles asked.
"I could possibly be referring to something that possibly could be construed that way," Forest said, "possibly."
"Very well," Giles said, dropping the subject. "I plan to leave in an hour. We will be meeting up with Xander, Willow and Drizzt at the school library."
"What? You're bringing kids along!" Riley was not pleased. "I know what Buffy and Drizzt can do, but you're putting kids in danger!"
"They are hardly children," Giles replied flatly. "They have faced worse obstacles than a search for a friend. And besides, if I were to leave them behind it would only be a matter of time before they caught up to us. It is much safer for them to come with us rather than follow when they realize I have left them behind."
"Even so sir, I want my objections made clear," Riley stated flatly.
"Agent Finn, I understand this is going to be a trying time," Giles said with a bit of a sigh. "I am not a member of the military. I am not even an American citizen. Even so I am now in command of your organization. I was chosen because I have years of experience with the supernatural, much more than many members of this organization. I would even hazard a guess that I was involved with this world of magic and demons before many of you went to kindergarten. My methods might differ from those of your organization, but ultimately, I know what I am doing."
"Understood sir," Riley Finn said with a nod. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'll assemble our team."
"I'll see you then," Giles said with a smile. He turned and walked out of the room. It took more time than usual to get to the school. He would have normally used the car, but as with everything, the petrol had been taken by the government to keep the emergency vehicles going. People were just now getting used to walking instead of driving. Some were happier about it than others. Cordelia had been particularly vocal against it. It initially had been difficult for him to arrange access to the library over the summer, but a call from the mayor had stalled any additional argument from Snyder. Striding into the library, Giles was surprised to find a frantic Willow and Xander running over to him.
"I can't find Oz!" The poor girl was frantic. "I called and I looked and nothing!"
"We've been looking since this morning," Xander said. "Willow called earlier this morning. His parents say he never went home last night. He called, but that was about 6 hours before the attack."
"We need to find him," Willow demanded, "He could be hurt!"
"Willow," Giles stated calmly. He rested a hand on her shoulder and squeezed just slightly. He absently thought of the young man he had found at his door as he left for the meeting with the mayor the night before. He had not seen someone so plagued by inner demons in some time. Oz was not in town anymore, but it was going to break the poor girl's heart. "Willow, sit down. You as well, Xander, you should both hear this." When they were properly settled in, he pulled out the note. "I spoke with him yesterday. Oz needed to leave."
"No! He can't leave me," protested Willow. Giles just looked at her with as much sympathy as he could muster.
"He was having trouble with the wolf even during a New Moon," Giles said calmly. "He wants you to know he loves you, but he can't stay around as long as he is a danger to us all." He let that sink in for a while. "And though I disagree on how he left, I can understand his need to leave."
"But-but," Willow stuttered. "I-I don't know what to do."
"Giles, this seems a little out of character for Oz," Xander protested.
"Oz has always been a responsible young man and I understand that this is the only way he could keep himself from hurting you," Giles said. He handed her the note. "He didn't want me to give you this until tomorrow, but this letter is for you. There are others for Buffy, Xander and Cordelia of all people." He pulled out Xander's letter and handed it to the young man. "I am going to put some tea on. The soldiers who will be assisting us will be here in one half hour."
Willow sat down to read her letter:
Dear Willow,
I am writing this because I do not trust myself around you any more. I like you a lot. I love being around you, but until I get better, I can't be anywhere near you. The wolf is too strong. I don't know if I can keep it under control. I find myself thinking of people as prey. Even you.
It scares me.
But I don't want to hurt you. Until I get rid of the wolf I cannot be around you. I am taking a translation amulet and some food. With my senses I won't have a problem finding water or things to eat.
I would like to ask you to wait for me, but that isn't fair. I might never be back. I don't know. Go on with your life and I will try and catch up after I have this licked…no pun intended.
Love,
Oz
Xander read his letter at the same time, but there was much less to cover:
Xander,
If I come back as a monster, help Buffy put me down.
Oz
"Tea," Giles said, setting a cup in front of each of his charges. It was his special tea, prepared in the true British style. "Drink. You are going to need to be sharp for today."
"How could he do this Giles?" Willow actually was crying now.
"Oz is a very mature young man," the watcher said simply. "He felt it was best to not be in a position where he could hurt you. I happen to agree."
"But-but-"
"Wills, he's right," Xander said, speaking up for the first time since he read the letter. He put an arm around his best friend's shoulders and gave her a quick hug. "He wants you to be safe. This was the safest thing he could do: for both of you."
Willow was about to argue when the Initiative agents walked in. They were in full battle gear with both conventional and blasters with additional power packs. They had come prepared for every eventuality and had ended up with quite a bit of gear. "Mr. Giles, I believe we are ready to go now."
"Willow, Xander, I believe you both know Agents Finn, Miller and Gates," Giles said. "They and the other agents are going to assist us in the Search for Buffy."
"Do we really need them?" asked Xander, he was trying to look tough, but it was less than successful.
"Xander, it has been many years since I have hiked in mountains without a trail," Giles said with a pinch of his nose. "I would feel much safer around people who are trained in these operations."
"Okay, if that's all, we should get going before too long," Riley suggested.
"Quite right, we should stop by the Summers' house and pick up Drizzt," Giles said. "I am sure Joyce will want to know about this."
When they arrived at the house they knew something was seriously wrong. Revello Drive was trashed. At first glance there was more visible damage than almost any other place in town. Three buildings were completely torched. Others had walls bashed in. The teams rushed to the Summers home, dodging infrastructure workers who were attempting to keep the roads clear for emergency vehicles. Inside they found a very confused and worried Drizzt attempting to fix some of the wreckage.
"Drizzt," Giles rushed into the house and grabbed the dark elf by the shoulders. The others quickly rushed in to inspect the rest of the house. "Are you alright?"
"I am fine," Drizzt replied numbly.
"Where is Joyce?"
"She got hurt," Drizzt said in that same monotone. "I tried to help, but I didn't know what to do. Then some people came to take her away. They had the symbol of your healers."
"Symbol of healers?" Xander asked, a little confused.
"He means the snake and rod thing," Forest answers. "The symbol you see on hospitals and ambulances."
"Oh," said Xander quietly. "Oh! That means Joyce is at the hospital!"
Buffy reached the top of a mountain after an hour of hiking at Slayer speed and dodging a few orcs that wandered around the valley. Even a month after Sunnydale had arrived, the valley was littered with the trunks of the flattened glade. Each tree was knocked down in the same direction, with only a few survivors that were protected by natural rock formations. She had not been outside the city proper since that first full day. And considering that her attention was focused on other things, she had not taken much of an opportunity to sightsee.
It was beautiful. The landscape looked painted, almost unreal. Snow gleamed in the cracks of the mountains, highlighting the topography of sharp peaks and vast valleys that melted into rolling hills. Eagles and hawks soared around mountain tops and mountain sheep bounded around the slopes. And it was amazingly silent, like any human made noise would disrupt the order.
Beyond that, far to the southwest, at the very edge of where she could see, she spotted what looked like a city shaped like a tooth reaching up from the plains. It was like some great horn protruded from the grasslands. It was a shocking white above the black stone that protruded from the green and brown grasslands below. Buffy was fascinated by the tiny gleam at the farthest reach of her vision. She felt drawn to it in a way she knew well. It was the same feeling she had just before she faced the Master.
The beautiful spot on the horizon was Hellgate Keep.
To the south she finally spotted Sunnydale. It looked so small at this distance, a little green and brown gem in the middle of the mountains. She suddenly realized she was many miles away from home; the fight with the Vrocks and her hike had taken her much farther away from the plane-shifted city than she had anticipated. North of the city was an impressive lake. It was miles long with mountaintops for islands. On the north end of the lake was what appeared to be a village. She almost missed it at first because she didn't recognize the buildings. A month of the lake filling up had flooded the place. Buffy suddenly had an inkling of where those orc families might have come from.
She started hiking along the edge of the mountains, afraid that she would loose her way if she couldn't see the city. These weren't the highest peaks, by any stretch of the imagination, but they were taller than anything she had ever climbed before. The high altitudes gave her a sense of lightheadedness, but she loved it. The mountain air was so clear, so free from smog, that it was like looking at a photograph. Everything seemed to be not quite real.
She leapt from perch to perch, jumping over wide divides and open chasms. More than once she got her feet completely wet, but the cool water felt refreshing on her tired feet. They were starting to ache, so she sat down at a waterfall and tried to pull off the boots. Unfortunately, her new boots were not designed for hiking. Grimacing as she pulled the boots off her swollen feet she suddenly realized they were full of blood. The red leather had covered up and she had ignored the pain. Grumbling, she rinsed the blood off both her feet and boots, letting the cool mountain water run over her. She lost track of time as she gave her feet time to heal. Even with her slayer regeneration, with the way they had been recently it was taking some time.
One of the biggest problems of fast healing is the lack of calluses. Usually when a person uses a tool that can prick or chaff, after a long time, they will build up a callus. She healed too fast, so the callus never formed. This was the same problem with her boots. As soon as she started back up again, she could feel the same pressure building up on her heel. Half the problem was her choice of footwear. High-heeled boots might be fine in central Sunnydale with nice flat roads, but they were not designed to hike in. Certainly not with only a thin sock.
As she climbed higher and higher, her range of view increased dramatically. She could see beyond the high hills that surrounded Sunnydale and down into the forest beyond. It was a different color from the other trees around and seemed to glow. Perhaps glow was not the best word. There was a presence about it, a feeling of familiarity and want that pulled her in a way almost opposite from the disturbing city she had seen earlier. It was calling her.
And then she fell in a hole.