After the Alpha Strike: We Won. Didn’t we?

[Jim Roberts]

[Feb 5 just past midnight – The Godcarvers]

> “Now we’re talking!” the Battlerager enthused. “So he’s a colossus
> sized shapechanger, and you revealed his sword! Mebbe he’s even a…
> what would ya call it? A DinoRider!” Braunhilde peered anxiously
> towards The Waterworks. “So when d’ye think he’ll show?”

> “Not quite,” Laurelin gently dissented.

After that, there really was not much more to say. Abbot Kenobi gave a
brief but sincere Prayer of Thanks to the Sky King before the Raiders
went their separate ways. The camp remained at an elevated alert in case
the kobold Social Justice Engineers – minus their divine leadership –
launched an outraged counterattack against the Godcarvers, but nobody
seriously considered that to be a likely counter reaction. Defence was
always easier than offence, and it would make no military sense for the
kobolds to leave the advantages of their ensconced defence and risk an
all out attack against their neighbours, far from the little reptiles’
carefully prepared killing grounds.

But aside from a heightened readiness just in case the kobolds *did*
throw caution to the wind to see just how many could die upon the
Godcarvers’ lances, not to mention any other terrible spells from the
invaders, nobody in the Godcarver camp knew quite what to do next. They
had certainly prepared for a wide range of possible outcomes. The
Medicine Lodge had their healers ready to apply emergency curatives in
case the strike force returned horribly mauled, or worse. And Bartras,
working with the Godcarver Champion, had devised a counter-counter
strike in case the Raiders somehow lost their magical ability to escape,
and needed help cutting their way OUT from the depths of furious kobolds.

On the opposite extreme, the Pussycats were ready to throw a wild
concert with an even wilder Afterparty to celebrate a hard fought
victory that would resonate in the bardic tales of the Plains People for
generations to come. In fact, nearly *everyone* in the combined
Godcarver and Cat Mob host had spent several days preparing for this
very moment, whether the result was a defeat or a victory.

And now, it was over. The whole effort of planning, scouting, and
preparing had led up to the handful of Raiders Teleporting into the
depths of the kobold temple to terminally interrupt the EHPK’s vile
ceremony. And in less than a handspan of seconds later, courtesy of a
Getaway spell, the Raiders returned completely unscathed, thanks to the
multiple layers of both Divine and Arcane defences.

So the Raid *was* a victory… wasn’t it?

Intellectually, it was obvious that it was. Even those with no martial
background at all could easily understand that the selective but
humiliatingly complete crushing of an enemy’s leadership with absolutely
NO cost to the Raiders was indeed a *complete* victory. And in the
warrior culture here in the Kirith Plains, all could grasp the
significance of the night’s result.

That the fight was not *fair* was of no consequence. All of the braves
among both the Godcarvers and Jeyshann’s Cat Mob army well understood
that leaders did not strive for *fair* fights. People fought for their
families, their friends, their tribes, or even for abstract higher
purposes. And above all, for victory. Not to be *fair*. That was for one
on one affairs of personal honour, not for wholescale warfare. A leader
that limited his or her army to only “fair” fights when the stakes were
their very survival was doing their troops a gross disservice.

So everyone understood that the night’s efforts HAD resulted in a
victory. Intellectually, at least.

Emotionally, however, nearly everyone was left with a sense of
ambivalence. Not a soul was complaining that the night had been “too
easy”, and the Abbot’s devout Prayers of Thanks were being echoed by
Medicine Men and Women throughout the combined camp. But as there had
been no *emotional* buildup, there had been no corresponding need for
release. Instead, the Plan had proceeded with clinical precision, thanks
to Sister Erin and the others who had helped with its meticulous
preparation and execution. Its success now left an emotional void, as
those carefully planned activities were now complete.

The vague plans for a short but intense after-Raid Pussycat concert were
immediately shelved. Nobody really felt in the mood, which perhaps was
just as well. All knew that the job was really only *started*, and not
complete. Dawn would arrive all too soon, along with the requirement to
reopen communication with the kobold dissidents, now that the Raiders
had proved their bona fides, and move onto the next step. Whatever that
might turn out to be.

So it was a rather subdued collection of Pussycats and Pals that
retreated to the curtained off area backstage, skipping over the concert
and heading straight to a low key Afterparty. Nearly all of the “usual
suspects” were present, featuring the Pussycats themselves, most of the
Wild Women of the Woods, both Finfin and Mithi, as well as High
Priestesses Jeyshann and Alaelia. Not to be left out were also the two
“junior” Keerytes, each accompanied by their chosen “dates” for the
night who had distinguished themselves *particularly* well in the day’s
efforts. And it did not hurt at all that the two lads were easy on the
eyes, as was Lomi’s own chosen date for the night.

But the lads could be seen trading uneasy glances as Josie and Val began
some quiet strumming on their guitars, accompanied by Mel tapping out a
gentle rhythm on a pair of hand drums. Each of the lads would
periodically glance at the huge campaign tent that had been the site of
some now famous After-Afterparties whose details grew in the whispered
retellings. These braves, after striving to impress the ladies, had been
quite naturally hoping to be able to feature most personally in a new
round of these wonderful tales.

However, the mood of tonight’s Afterparty was more contemplative, rather
than celebratory. The “vibes” were most certainly companionable… but not
charged with tension that might lead to a group celebration of
hedonistic release. That the evening was not going to end in one of the
justly famous After-Afterparties where everybody celebrated together in
the large campaign tent was confirmed when a number of the ladies began
setting up more individual retreats for the night, foregoing anything
more communal in the campaign tent.

Here, however, the night took a decided turn for the better for the
Keerytes’ dates. For some time now, Initiates Vilma and Uta had taken to
storing their regulation two person tent with the Pussycats’ wagon. A
tent that, while designed for two Sisters, had been repeatedly shown to
be able to hold up to four, provided that none were concerned about
sharing personal space. And most certainly that none were at all body-shy.

So the two lads’ eyes grew wide when Vilma and Uta matter of factly
plunked down the stowed tent in its stout canvas sack right in front of
them.

“You have impressed both my Sister and me mightily,” Uta explained to
the now hopeful lads. “Continue to impress us by helpink us vith this
tent, and you vill have a greater chance to impress us again tonight in
much more fun vays.”

The lads needed no further encouragement, and set to at will. As did
Lomi’s lad. The tall Wild Woman scout had not been nearly as diligent as
the two Junior Keerytes about inviting a new companion *every* night,
but she had clearly decided that on this night, she would not be
sleeping alone. So after a similar explanation, she and her chosen brave
had quickly assembled a simple one person tent that, like the Keerytes’,
in these sorts of circumstances could most certainly fit double its
rated number of occupants.

Some ladies, however, needed no such coverings. After putting away their
guitars, Josie and Val pulled together a thick pile of furs, clearly
intending to cuddle companionably together under the stars in what
remained of the winter night.

And some were enjoying Arcane shelters. Finfin had just completed
casting a Rope Trick for Mel and Bartras to enjoy when the Pussycat
drummer pulled the elf into a fond embrace.

“Thanks, Fin!” she exclaimed cheerfully after gifting him with an
enthusiastic kiss.

“My pleasure,” he replied sincerely. “And I hope, yours as well.”

That comment earned him another kiss. “That’s really sweet of you,” Mel
purred. “And I hope so, too. Once Jeyshann is squared away, I’ll go get
Bartras and see about that pleasure.”

Somewhat bemused, the elf wandered over to where the Cat Priestess was
having an earnest conversation with Tramma, Alaelia, and his own
to-be-hoped-for date for the night, Mithralia. While he was somewhat
reluctant to interrupt the ladies’ conversation, there was something he
felt he needed to say before everyone parted ways for the night. So he
stood quietly to the side, waiting to be noticed and invited forward.

He did not have long to wait before he was invited to approach. Stepping
forward, he got right to the point. “I would like to thank you most
sincerely, Great Medicine Woman,” he began. “Your Divine Prayers,
particularly that stupendous Body to Body prayer, was the anchor of our
defences.”

“You are quite welcome, Captain,” Jeyshann answered graciously. “And
your own spells helped as well.” She grimaced slightly as she had to
admit to an uncomfortable thought. “As did his High and Mighty Holiness,
Abbot Kenobi. His Angelic Aspect, while disgustingly flashy, *did*
protect us from the little those scaly beggars could muster at no notice.”

“We’ll be thanking Jeyshann *most* directly,” Tramma chuckled. “Won’t
we, sweets?”

“That we will,” the Moon Priestess concurred.

The Cat Priestess shared a warm smile with the two Bitani snuggled up
with her. “I am quite looking forward to that. And thank *you*, young
Mithralia, for your offer to prepare an additional one of your handy
Rope Tricks for my companions and I to share tonight.”

Finfin blinked, but smiled happily at the evidence of preparation and
coordination pervasive in the camp as Mithi nodded cheerfully. “Glad to
‘elp.”

Jeyshann then gave a sardonic chuckle, and added, “Though I have *NO*
plans to share the thanks that my friends and I are about to enjoy with
the Abbot.”

“Eww,” Tramma agreed.

“But I hope,” Jeyshann continued as she fixed her stare on Mithi, “that
*you*, young Mithralia, are planning on similarly thanking the Captain
here in a suitable manner for his part in tonight’s success.”

“Oh, Oi am,” Mithi promised.

And she did.