Suggested changes: {before : after}
On Tue, 07 May 2002 23:33:21 -0400 "J. Wagner" <jbw@wpi.edu> wrote:
As before, previous chapters of Learning Curve, for those who care, are at:
http://www.wpi.edu/~jbw
I appreciate your having the past chapters at a website. It allowed me to
catch up. I had not read any of it in the past, but it caught my interest
recently.
The clatter of hooves brought the men to attention, and many looked up
at their liege lord with bloodshot eyes. Still, at his approach, and
the approach of his envoy, {their number at full : they all} stood, heads bowed.
Behind the King rode the young Prince, and his two adult bodyguards,
formerly the King's. Normally, the boy would have been given a new set
of his own, but every able warrior was needed elsewhere. Stopping his
horse, the King dismounted, the hard cold ground giving an almost
audible crunch at his landing.
"Our scouts have reported that he marches at the head of fully a third
of his Air {Corp : Corps}."
"As you know, his {Conscript : conscript} forces have broken apart during the march
here. I... We believe he may be dividing them into waves - perhaps as
many as ten, not including his reserves. Most likely he will hold
those back to guard his rear and support structures, as well as the
base camp established to the northeast of Soryn Mountain, in case he
needs to make a tactical withdrawal."
"And his other Air {Corp : Corps}?"
Recently, however, things had changed. Passing by the assembled
warriors, he noted a few bullet wounds - the result of a new weapon
introduced in grand fashion just months earlier. Snipers, armed with
heavy caliber rifles. They were perhaps the most dangerous troops in
Saffron's army, and the Phoenix 'God' had been careful to groom and
nurture his young Airborne Sniper Corp. Musk were nothing if not
tough, however, and Herb reassessed his previous position. The wounds
were, most likely, due to smaller rounds from {Conscript : conscript} submachine
guns.
Straining his neck, and looking around a steep {Cliffside : cliffside} to his left,
the King could also just see the tip of the Fortress Airship of the
Seven Lucky Gods. It was a truly impressive sight, in full. The ship
was just that: a ship, several hundred feet long, magically
constructed and held together, and given flight by a similarly crafted
balloon. Well armed, relatively, and very well armored, even the
balloon part, the Airship would cement their southeast flank.
"Fortress and emplacement reinforcement and defenses are at their
final stages, ahead of our timetable... and outfitting of predicted
forces is nearly complete. Our heavy assault {Divisions : divisions} will be ready
for full action and deployment within twelve days. Standard {Divisions : divisions}
will be ready in six, Light {Divisions : divisions} in seven, and {Auxiliaries : auxiliaries} in
nine. The status of our Lucky God allies is also pleasant news...
retrofitting of their airship was completed earlier today. Bishamonten
reports that it should be more than capable of delivering, supporting,
and commanding an entire {Standard Division : standard division} of warriors by itself. Two,
if pressed."
"Roughly following the {Timetable : timetable}," Borage tapped his staff onto the
marble floor, "Is there more, Sumac?"
As he walked, and bowed, very shallowly, he started talking about
Japan and Musk interests and {Intelligence : intelligence} on the surrounding area. She
also noticed that this 'half brother' of Herb's that she had never
heard of before was nearly familiar in a way. More than the simply
arrogance Herb generally exhibited, this Musk seemed to just be more
cocky. He reminded her of Ranma, in more than a few ways. Off hand,
she wondered what kind of sparks would fly if the two ever met.
"With all due respect, my liege," Taro sneered just slightly at the
word, "You have not been all too subtle in organizing things {to : too}
quickly. The word among the Joketsuzoku is that they were tipped off
some time ago, most likely by the appearance of the Lucky Gods airship
in a region so far from Nekonron."
"No one would dare betray me... and betray our thousands of years of
tradition," Herb crossed his arms furiously, and the two made their
way down a flight of marble steps to the lowest terrace in the
{Courtyard : courtyard}, reserved for a large garden. The place was strangely humid
and warm, given their altitude and location. Many of the flowers
looked quite exotic.
"The {Guest : guest} is in through the {Door : door}, everybody. No, don't rush up to
thank me all at once, now.... Hey, pizza!"
"Yeah, yeah... I wish we'd just get the call to do the {Hit : hit} already."
"What do you mean? That I should demand {grandfather : Grandfather} Happosai stop...
being himself?"
Soun folded the letter in half between his fingers, and watched as the
world around him got steadily worse, and he did nothing. He {: had} the
solution... a solution, certainly, in his hand, but found himself far
more reluctant to use it than he had thought. A bright ray of sunshine
crossed his path as he walked past a broad {windowon : window on} his home's second
floor. He darkened it for a half second while he passed, but his
thoughts lingered on that action until he came to the guest room.
Ranma, Genma and Ryouga had been sharing it, up until about two weeks
ago, shortly after the two boys got back from getting Nabiki and Akane
back, when they had left on a training trip. Genma had, in light of
the pampering he was receiving, decided to stay behind and sleep in
the dojo.
"Come on in, {papa : Papa}."
"Hai, {papa : Papa}," Kurumi smiled brightly, "I can't wait to go to Furinkan,
just like Akane and Nabiki! It sounds so cool!"
Soun frowned a bit at that. Furinkan was a hassle, and he'd heard
about the {Principal : principal} there. He was also considering the possibility of
sending Kurumi to St. Hebereke's Academy - it was an all {girl's : girls : girls'} school
with reportedly an excellent athletics department, high-test scores,
and a relative minimum of school related mayhem. It was a private
school, but Kurumi could easily get in for free riding her athletics.
Still, all that was provided he kept them around.
"Is something wrong, {papa : Papa}?"
"Thanks, {papa : Papa}," there was a pause, "I love you."
"You know... a friendly word of advice, for free, even," Nabiki
lowered her voice and Akane sat down opposite her, "Give yourself a
break. Daddy made it abundantly clear he doesn't want anyone fighting
over the school. Kurumi doesn't seem to care that much, by herself,
and Natsume only put the idea forward because she wants to prove
herself as indispensable to {dad : Dad}. This whole 'who will carry on' deal
is stupid, if you ask me."
"That, too, maybe. {Its... its : It's... it's} one thing to be worse than Ranma or
Ryouga, or even Shampoo and Ukyou.... They're all truly dedicated to
the Art, but none of them are competition. I stopped being like them
years ago, after {dad : Dad} finished teaching me the School Techniques. I
just... I guess I got complacent. I thought I was the best out there.
Better than {dad : Dad}, even."
"Yes, sir, it is," The boy's voice came from behind the door. If he
was an Amazon, it was a given that he could pretty easily tear any
regular door off its hinges, locked or not, or even smash through the
wall. This boy, however, had not. He was asking for permission, and
even willing to pay for a good night's sleep on an actual bed. Plum
was standing behind the door, looking through the peephole.
Amazon women could tear the door off it's hinges. Most Amazon men
couldn't. Again, most Amazon men wouldn't come anywhere near the springs
either.
Mousse licked his lips, before giving a resigned sigh. He reached into
his robes, and took out a large rolled piece of paper, then another,
and then another. Handing them over, he shied back {in expected : expecting}
disapproval.
"You should have died. If you and your friend hadn't shown up{: then}... Herb
would have been cursed, and you two would be on your way with the
cures for your curse. An exchange, almost. As it was, when things
didn't turn out like they were supposed to, I was supposed to finish
things.... Make you disappear."
"Yes, the Musk. You wanted to know who wanted you dead? The Society...
for seeing what you did. Bishop wanted Prince Herb cursed, {preferable : preferably}
with the female curse. He believed it would weaken his leadership in
the coming storm."
"Well enough, {papa: Papa}. He'll go along with whatever Bishamonten and I
tell him. One little wave of the missing half of the scroll is usually
all it takes. I'd still rather hold off using one of our few remaining
surikomi eggs unless absolutely necessary."
"I know, {papa : Papa}. Don't worry. I have everything under control. You'll
know the moment when to move... if not from me, {than : then} from one of the
others."
"I do, {papa : Papa}. Talk to you later. BaiBai!"
She was trained to fight and lead in equal measure, and to pave the
way for the resurrection of her {lord : Lord} God back to prominence. In her
time as Captain of the Guard, she had been accused of spoiling the
neonate Saffron, and exposing him to danger unnecessarily, but they
did not understand the proper reverence the Godchild was due. She
could not refuse his wishes, no matter how outrageous or inappropriate
they were. In addition, she secretly hoped to cultivate a more loving
Saffron, so that all could know the grace and majesty of his Rule and
his Word. For the last fifteen years, she had been the {de facto : defacto} ruler
of the Phoenix Tribe, through its Elite Guard, separated by a
generation from the cowards and sycophants that had surrendered their
dreams of Empire thirty years ago.
"Mistress, we have several reports of a great airship advancing on the
Mountain. Old Phoenix Village is also being attacked... Several
patrols have already been {whipped : wiped} out!"
"It had better not be," Saffron scowled, "{Its : It's} interrupting my sleep."
The V formations would hit the front, drawing fire and swooping down
quickly, before circling for another attack, and then another, before
closing to melee, their javelins wreaking terrible injury on those
they target even before they got a chance for close combat. Behind
them, fast firing Phoenix archers and crossbowmen would rain
{saturation : death} down on their enemies, and when things became a melee, they
would close for more accurate supporting fire. Meanwhile, on the
flanks, the Phoenix warriors in schwarm would hit from behind in twos,
half attacking, half covering and harrying, hoping to cause chaos and
disorganization.
With a feral snarl, the wolf-blood turned to the greater melee all
around him. The entire Old Village was aflame, thanks to his
handpicked terror troops. He'd trained each and every one of them for
this moment. The support of the Togenkyou Auxiliaries and reserves was
just gravy. Not necessary, but not exactly unwanted either. It'd have
been nice if the airship could handle carrying a {Division : division} of heavy
assault Musk into battle here, but it would only have been overkill
anyway.
Herb had given Sumac total authority to get as much attention from the
Phoenix {Legions : legions} as possible in his attack on the place, allowing him
and his little cadre to work their way in and get to Saffron himself.
It was an opportunity Sumac had looked forward to with great relish
and anticipation. He was given a free hand to cause as much havoc and
destruction as he wanted... to splurge, so to speak.
"Toma! Toristan! Wonton!" Herb grabbed the younger warrior as he
passed, turned around briefly to knock aside a Phoenix man, and give
Toristan a quick pickup. Spinning quickly, Herb looked around for the
last of Toma's bodyguards, and saw him {limply :} fighting {of :: off} two Phoenix,
still holding the bridge despite his wounds.