TOUGH SCHLOSS

They stood about two hundred meters away from the large Bavarian castle. Schloss Munchmaussen was fortified by 20-m stone walls which were, in turn, surrounded by 7-m walls, similar to the inner walls except for their diminished height. The gatehouse towers were guarded quite heavily to stop intruders, such as these four, from entering the courtyard.

One of the quartet was nearly 3 m tall and weighed well over 170 kg. Obviously a troll, he carried an HK-227S submachine gun ready in his large hand.

The next largest was an ork, smaller than sapiens ingenitus, but larger than the two sapiens sapiens. He also carried an HK-227S, but with an under-barrel mounted grenade launcher. A four-break missile launcher was slung over his shoulder.

The remaining two team members were both "normal" human, both of medium build, and both shamanic magicians. However, one was of the totem Bear and one of Owl. They too were armed with submachine guns, but were ready to use their magical talents.

The four shadowrunners had just finished a two-day hike up the mountain road, constantly hiding from the drones that the baron sent every few hours. They had been spotted just hours ago, and, although they had destroyed the drone, the four knew that the baron was aware of their presence and therefore were moving rather cautiously.

They had chosen to take the road because; a) the schloss was surrounded on three sides by cliffs and none could climb worth drek, b) the baron had a nasty habit of shooting down any low-flying aircraft, and c) the aerial tramway that the commuters used to reach the castle was guarded by police (albeit inept) and all control of the lift was handled by the schloss. They had decided that, although slow, the road could be traveled while carrying their armaments and was probably the safest of all the methods. Now they examined the map that Ms. Johnson had provided and assessed the schloss for any weaknesses.

Looking through his thermally enhanced binoculars, Night could see a small machine with a perimeter-mounted rotor coming towards the party from the castle.

"I hate to use a cliche, but we've got company. Looks like another drone," he said as he braced his HK and whispered into the night for Owl to give him the strength and wisdom he would need in the near future.

Dog moaned and prepared his power bolt. Bear grumbled and used his natural thermographic vision to try to spot the drone through the blowing snow and gathering darkness. The ork, Trife, shouldered his missile launcher and seemed to be smiling in anticipation, his yellowed tusks catching the little light from the schloss.

The drone buzzed in and stopped to hover 4 m away from the team. The security camera swiveled and a voice speaking Bavarian German demanded that they lay down their weapons or the guards would be forced to shoot.

Night once more looked through his binoculars after hearing Dog's translation. Indeed the two guards in the south tower had assault rifles trained on them, but the north tower guards were armed with submachine guns, which were well out of range.

Without warning, Dog threw a power bolt at the drone, his features obscured by those of the Bear totem and a challenging roar issuing from his ursine mouth. The drone spun and whirled away, trailing sparks as it hit the ground.

Night grabbed his HK and opened fire on it, realizing even as he fired that he still had gel rounds loaded. They whined off the drone's casing harmlessly. Cursing, he fumbled to load regular rounds into the gun.

Thoroughly enjoying himself, Trife aimed at the south tower and fired. The guards had time to fire off a few wide bursts before the computer-assisted AVM hit the tower only a few meters off target. The resulting explosion was enough to seriously wound one guard and to send the other reeling, losing precious seconds in the process.

By the time the guards had regained their feet, Trife's second missile hit dead center between them. The tower windows exploded out with the force, littering the ground below with shrapnel, flaming pieces of wood, and various smoking clumps of the guards' anatomies.

Meanwhile, Bear snatched Trife's HK from where it had been slung around his shoulder and fired a smoke grenade at the south tower. Through sheer luck, Bear's inexperience with firearms, and the howling wind, the self-propelled grenade collided with the north tower's center window-shattering it and causing the men within to concentrate totally on trying to breathe and to forget about the runners for a while. Bear stared at the tower with its smoky windows with an expression of dumb amazement, a sight quite common to his longtime companions. He then began to run towards the portcullis between the gatehouses. Dog and Trife quickly followed.

Night again called upon Owl, this time for help of a more direct sort. His eyes grew wide and his nose started to resemble the raptorial beak of the night predator as he whistled the conjuration summons. An even stronger mountain wind surrounded Night, but he did not feel the cold. His attention was totally fixed upon his conjuration and the apparition before him. The mountain spirit chose to appear as a beautiful naked woman with gossamer ribbons of snow that were constantly flowing about her. Her pale, frost-blue eyes regarded her summoner coldly as she waited for her commands.

Night, again appearing quite human, smiled and gave those commands. He wished for his speed in her terrain to be maximized. He also commanded her wordlessly to bestow her power upon Dog as well. The others would have to do without. They were faster and Night could only give two more commands, which might be required if the remaining guards chose to be troublesome.

At first Bear and Trife were in the lead. Only a bit speedier than the average human, they were nevertheless extremely fast for their race, thanks to the modern miracle of cyberware. Night shot past within seconds and had almost cut his distance to the schloss in half. The two trogs watched amazed as the Owl shaman then left the road and started to cross south, over high banks of ice and snow and tangled jumbles of rock. Without the guarding hand of the spirit he would have fallen and broken both legs, or worse. Night now had one service remaining. Dog then took the lead as a continuous gust of wind pushed him from behind and below, making each of his strides meters in length. He reached the castle's portcullis half a minute later, at the same time that Night reached the ancient sortie gate on the southern wall of the castle. He used the spirit's last service, and great clumps of snow began to stick to his winter-survival clothing and the wind seemed to concentrate around him to cover him in even more snow, all this affording him excellent concealment. Only a trained observer would be able to see him, and only if lucky.

By the time Dog reached the east wall, the guards from the north tower had stumbled out, hands in the air as they coughed and milled around on the other side of the portcullis. Dog stopped a few meters away from them so he could hear and be heard, keeping an eye on all three because their submachineguns were still slung around their shoulders. He hailed them in German and motioned for the ork and the troll to hurry up. In fact, they slowed down and it took almost a minute and a half for them to reach Dog. They stopped on either side of the shaman, Bear panting and cursing. Trife still wore his battle smile, knowing that more combat would be inevitable.

Once everyone was in place, Dog held a brief conference with the guards in the harsh Bavarian dialect. After half a minute, he turned to the street samurais and said, "They have offered to open the portcullis if we promise not to kill them. They also insist that they haven't set off the alarm. Again, the deal is not to hurt them." He said this last part mostly to Trife, who had a tendency not to hear such peaceful orders. The ork merely growled his assent and stared menacingly at the spluttering guards. Night also took part in the conversation through the micro-transceiver installed in their helmets. He told them that he would wait by the sortie gate until his services were required.

The agreement reached, the guards allowed the runners entrance. The team also followed through on their half of the bargain; although there was a tense moment when Trife coughed loudly and gripped his HK-227S. But he merely laughed at the startled men and proceeded into the courtyard. The other two quickly followed.

Through the outer walls was a barren area that served no purpose other than to take up the space between the outer and inner walls. Nevertheless, the three members going in through the front gate were cautious. They had all been in situations where all seemed quiet, and then the drek hit the fan without warning. But the several meters of open ground proved to be uneventful. Night continued to hide by the defunct sortie gate and monitor his companions' progress.

As the three runners made sure that the bested guards did in fact leave, several figures ran from the two tower-like structures on the north wall. As the guards started to rain bullets down on the heads of the runners, the three gate guards made a break for it; they had seen what missile launchers can do to a (meta)human. Seeing now that the gate guys were not a problem, the runners dodged the shots fired at them and dived behind the nearest cover, cars since they were in the Baron's private parking lot.

There were two Volkswagen Schteitens, the German version of the North American Ford Americar. There was also a royal purple Toyota Elite limousine parked near the runners. All three in the courtyard were hunkered down behind it, just in line of sight for Night, who was still at the south sortie gate. The fact that they unconsciously stayed in sight of him was a testament to their teamwork and knowledge of one another's abilities. Night could only extend magical protection to what he could see. Though Dog also could shield his friends from magical attacks, the two shamans together could make the team almost impervious to spells and the like. This, and the fact that both magicians were initiates, was one of the reasons the team had done so well and had never lost a member. Having members of the two largest and most combat-able metahuman species didn't hurt, either.

Jazzing his boosted reflexes, Trife shot at the guards to his left. Both of his bursts had little effect because of the weather conditions and the cover afforded by the wall the men stood on.

He said, "Fraggin' pussy weapon!" and once again shouldered his launcher. He had been waiting for this. Meanwhile, Bear had decided that inside the car might be safer. He was in the process of smashing out the rearmost passenger side window of the Elite. After two hard punches the window shattered. It was obviously armored glass because normal windows would have become shrapnel after the first punch. He started to fumble around for the interior door lever.

Night saw the threat from the guards and had been chanting the Words of Power for a combat spell. Since he could only see the three guards on the right, and a combat spell could only affect what he could see, he unleashed the power and an almost visible force shot from his outstretched arm. The fireball hit the center guard and fried him instantly. Of the other two, one screamed and jumped, flaming, off the wall on the far side. The other fired a short, uncontrolled burst at the runners in the parking lot before joining his friend on the other side and escaping. Smiling at the results, Night almost didn't feel the fatigue and feeling of exhaustion from channeling the spell's energy. Perhaps it was a bit more powerful than had been required, but life on the streets had taught him that an opponent is better too dead than not dead enough.

Dog was employing his submachinegun on the remaining guards, and had already put one out of the fight, when the section of wall below the guards blew up in a sudden explosion. Dog's next question was answered by the throaty chuckling of his ork companion.

The thick stone of the wall had saved the guards from most of the explosion. Out of the two remaining, the only injury of note was a stray piece of shrapnel had removed most of the index finger of the rightmost guard. He hadn't yet noticed and he and his partner leapt off the far side of the wall and ran like drek into the night.

"Wait there for me," Night said into the microtransciever, "I'm going to come around. This gate is rusted closed." Indeed it was, the many unused years in the harsh winter climates had effectively made the sortie gate useless. Night could have climbed it as it was probably not alarmed or trapped, but he decided not to risk it. Besides, let the others wait for him and cover his way in.

Half a minute later he had joined his companions in the parking lot by the limousine with the open door and the broken window. Bear was rummaging around inside while they waited, but to no avail. The car was empty except for a very old, very dirty French fry wrapper from Herr-Von-Donald’s. He sniffed it, grunted and got out of the car wishing he had thought to bring fast food on the hike. He normally wasn't the greatest personality to have around, and now he was hungry. The Baron was in a lot of trouble.

As soon as Night was in earshot Dog said, "Let's hit that building over there and take cover in case more guards wish to play. We can also work out a plan while we're out of this wind." His compatriots agreed and they were off, Night in the lead.

The building that they approached was two stories in height and had a large cross on the roof. It also had stained glass windows displaying several Biblical scenes on the front side of the building. Dog realized his mistake just as Night laughed and ran the last few meters to the church. Dog knew that Night was a heathen in the worst sense of the word and that any priest or parishioner in the building would be subject to Night's peculiar justice. He followed the Owl and got ready to heal the wounded when Night had finished with them. The two street samurais never lost a stride. They had both seen displays like this before.

Night hit the stained glass window arms first in a controlled dive. He landed with his shoulder and used his momentum to carry him forward in a roll. Coming out of the somersault he readied his HK-S and fired at the only available target.

The statue was over seventy years old. It was made of a dark wood and stood a little over three meters in height. Soft light from two candles dripped off of the varnished sculpture and the statue itself seemed to exude a sense of calm and peace to all that beheld it. Night was not impressed. The fast hard lead met with yielding wood and the result was lacquered pieces flying from the crucifix. Jesus' crown of thorns was actually blown off of his wooden brow by the force of the bullets. One of the arms was also torn off and the torso of the Son was shattered and spread among the pews and around the altar.

Night stood smiling in the silence after the noise of the smg. Although the HK-S had an integral sound suppressor, the sound of an automatic weapon fired inside of a church is quite loud. Night was, of course, used to it by now.

Dog entered the room through the hole Night had made and viewed the damage. He thanked Bear (his totem, not his companion) that there had been no casualties. Trife and the troll followed him in.

After setting Bear (the troll, not the totem) on guard by the "window" to watch for unwanted visitors, Night said, "Look. Why don't we hole up here and let the fraggers come to us? I'm sure that we can hold off an army of guards if they are all that easy."

"Dat was too easy, methinks," Bear replied, "I dunno what da frag is going on here, but dose guys was a piece of soycake. Maybe we been set up?"

"Let's just do the job," said Dog, "I think that they were easy, too. Did you see the way that they ran away when we were barely hurting them? Either the Baron hired drek-suckers or something is going on here. Either way, let's get the book and drop off the valise, whatever it is." This last he said with a quick glance to the case slung on Bear's belt. They had decided to give it to the troll because it would be the hardest for the bad guys to take from him.

As for the valise itself, it was a metal case about the size of an average briefcase. The only markings on it were a large red cross on either side and a digital read-out on the bottom that read "250". Every couple of minutes a jet of harmless white vapor would exit with a hiss from the port next to the read-out. None of the runners knew what was in the valise, but Dog was strongly convinced that it was a bomb. Trife kind of hoped it was. Medical supplies would be boring.

As they made their final assault plans, Night rested from his use of magics. The power that he had wielded may not have been much if Dog had handled it, but Night suffered from a condition commonly known as "being on the path of the burnout." Simply, Night had invested in cybernetics, an advantage, yes, but it replaced meat with machine, and magic depended exclusively on flesh.

The plan was to charge the keep and take it by force. Not surprisingly it was Trife's idea, and Bear agreed wholeheartedly. This subtle drek was too slow for him. Even Dog and Night had to admit that it was a viable idea because the book that they were looking for was in the keep and the valise was to be left in its place. If it was a bomb, Dog wanted to be rid of it as soon as possible. An explosion would certainly kill the magicians and Trife, and it would probably piss off Bear since he was the one carrying it.

The sprint was a short one, about twenty-five meters, and all the runners could do was to run in a half-crouch and hope for the best. Bear took the lead and Trife was in the rear because if an attack came from either way, they were the ones that could best handle a bullet.

A lone pair of guards did indeed spot them, but the eyes of Owl were with Night today and he spotted them first. Spreading his arms (which now resembled the wings of a fearsome bird of prey), he muttered a short incantation and let a manabolt fly from his fingertips. It struck the guard in the chest and a greenish light seemed to emanate momentarily form the woman's body. A sharp lancet of pain smoldered in the center of Night's forehead, but he grunted and bore it. His magic (and his gun) would probably be needed soon, and he could not afford to pass out- or die.

The second guard screamed and fled. It was not like a paid "professional" to run screaming from a firefight, and the team was immediately suspicious, but the fewer the bullets fired at them, the better. They just picked up the pace and ran into the building. They had realized that this could be dangerous, but all agreed that they would rather shoot it out indoors where there might be some cover than to stand in the cold like sitting meta-ducks.

The door burst open (it was unlocked, but it wouldn't have mattered for Bear was still in the lead) and the runners at last entered the keep of Schloss Munchmaussen.

-----

The baron Munchmaussen was monitoring the team's progress from his private security chamber, which was on the second floor. The only entrance to the tiny room was through a secret door from the library. The room was mostly banks of communication and surveillance equipment, with just enough room for the Baron's oversized chair. (In fact there wasn't even enough room for the chair. The Baron had had some of the less important devices removed to make room for his favourite chair. The technicians did not think that this was a wise idea since the original chair {big enough for the Baron's troll-sized body} was too big and the new one was twice that size. The Baron had had his way, though- who were lowly techies when compared to genuine German royalty?) Soft blinking lights abounded and there were switches for which Munchmaussen himself did not know the function.

The Baron was in a foul mood today. Not only was his terribly painful rheumatism acting up, but these four "Yankee hitmen" (for that is what he believed they were) had chosen today to try to assassinate him. He did not know which of his enemies had hired them, but he did not feel like dying today. Therefore, he would take barbaric action to stop them. First, though, He would let them betray themselves.

He of course knew of the runners' presence when they destroyed his drone. He immediately came to his security center and told all the guards to shoot badly, go down when shot at, and to run at any given time. they of course did not protest, but they felt like cowards just the same.

The Baron Munchmaussen had known of the "assassins" from the time that they had unpacked their crates in the hostel that they were staying at while in Germany. And the hostel, like the small hotel and other various tourist areas, was bugged. There were two microphones and one camera in the room the runners were assigned. This was not merely coincidence, but a deliberate act of Goldie- a woman who served as Munchmaussen's resident tour guide and was also the paid mercenary/magician of the Baron himself. Her position of tour director gave the Baron first hand information about new and suspicious visitors (like four UCAS citizens who had arrived rather unexpectedly and with four large, wooden crates without any markings.)

Once the runners were alone in their room, they had of course started talking about how to get into the castle. They had also done a little legwork around town. The baron, already a paranoid individual, had thought immediately of his enemies and their secretive plots to usurp his "throne." He had immediately had the scouting drones' periods doubled, then trebled. Unfortunately, he had believed that they would try to scale the cliff wall and that is why they had advanced as far as they had before being spotted.

He wanted the four to betray their mission, which was why he had allowed them to progress so far relatively unmolested. If he had commanded the guards to stop the intruders, they would have reduced these marauders to mince-soy. The fact that the runners were only interested in one of his possessions did not even cross his mind. If he had thought about it, and realized that it was the tome that they were after, he would have had the party killed. He believed that the tome substantiated his theory that metahumans, particularly trolls, had been around in medieval ages. This was very important to him and probably more valuable than life itself. Because he was paranoid, he had commissioned a rather cheap copy be made to fool anyone who might want the book for themselves.

The Baron's musing was interrupted by a rather gruff voice that was speaking German from one of his speakers.

"Lord Munchmaussen?" It was Dobry, head of security and policing of the castle grounds.

"What?" Munchmaussen growled.

"I'm in the north sec-tower and have just received visual of the perpetrators. They are running towards the keep. They magicked Jennings, but I think Petrov escaped unharmed. Are you sure that we shouldn't take them down? We have a bead and my finger's itchin'."

"Your orders stand," said the Baron, "and you will take care that your 'itch' doesn't become a problem or your next meal will be finger stew. Am I clear on this point?"

"Yes, my Lord," replied the captain, and quickly terminated contact.

The Baron sat back in his chair and smiled. His worn fangs reflected the blinking lights on the control panel. "Soon, my friends," he whispered. "Soon we shall match our wits and see who the victor is. Come to my home. Welcome. I've been expecting you."

-----

Once through the door, Bear scanned for cover quickly and dove behind a nearby desk. It was occupied, but the man was so stunned by the sight of him that he looked incapable of anything. In fact, he was capable of one thing, and the result of that was now running down his trouser leg.

Night was in next and diving for the floor. Sometimes being prone was as good as having cover. Dog and Trife were in the door immediately and brandishing their guns.

The reception hall was quite large, maybe twelve by ten meters. The entrance was on the east wall. The room was that comfortable, cozy dark that all good hotel lobbies are. (presumably) rare portraits and antique weapons festooned the walls, there was a medium-sized fire in the fireplace in the south wall, and the floor was a glossy, dark hardwood, as were the three desks in the room. A functionary that seemed to have remembered someplace else they’d rather be occupied each. Bear was behind the one on the north wall and the other two were both along the west wall, between two doors. A third door led to the north, about three meters from Bear. All three exits appeared to have no doors. There were also several couches, chairs and writing tables for guests waiting for audience with the Baron.

Feeling that the situation was under control, Dog said, "If you co-operate, I'm sure no one will get hur-"

His speech was cut off by a figure running from the north door, weapon spitting death and making loud cracking noises. Two slugs hit with thunks in the jamb immediately to Dog's right. He reflexively flinched and started to raise his weapon, but not in time. The third slug would have most likely found its target if Bear's boosted reflexes had not kicked in.

Bear saw the pistol-wielding ork run from the door and fire towards his companions. He just had time to see his smartlink crosshairs blink once on his retinas before firing. The retinal smartgun link was a time-tested aiming modification that greatly increased accuracy with any weapon designed to be used with the cybersystem. They proved true once again as Bear's burst caught the guard in the chest and bodily threw him into one of the west desks. The functionary made a slight squeak and promptly fainted. Night was ready for the second guard, and was about to fire, when there came a sound like rapid muffled sneezes from behind him. He heard the bullets cut the air above his head and saw the second ork guard take the burst in the waist. He, too, went flying, but started to rise almost immediately. Night's burst caught him in the face, spreading brains and bone splinters onto the wall behind him before he could even fire a shot.

Taking advantage of the commotion, one of the officials on the west wall drew his light pistol and fired. The bullet hit Bear dead center in his massive chest. He grunted and turned to face this new threat, but there was no need. His three companions all fired nearly simultaneously. The man was almost cut in two by the shots. Blood flew in great arcs and he had time to give a mangled cry before he was silenced forever. The only remaining conscious enemy decided that it wasn't such a great honour and he, too, fainted dead away.

"I don't think dat dey are playing games anymore," grunted Bear, rubbing his chest. It would probably bruise and might even leave a welt. It probably would have seriously injured one of his companions, but that was of little importance when considering the discomfort that he would feel for the next few days.

"I have to agree with troll-boy," Night said. "I also believe that the Baron is quite aware of our presence. Perhaps we should move with a little more caution and vigilance."

"Just like a fraggin' breeder," mumbled Trife, "always wantin' to take the 'safe' way. Can you get more boring?"

He was still hoping that the case was a bomb. If so, this run might be fun after all.

"Whatever we do, let's do it quickly," said Dog. "Time is wasting and we have a job to do."

With that the runners started towards the south-most door on the west wall, not needing even to gesture with their hands. Their teamwork was at a point that in times of urgency, no communication was necessary. They worked like a well-oiled machine- quite literally on the case of Night and Trife.

They went through the door in the usual method: Bear moving in fast, Night prepared to follow suit, Trife in position beside the door for cover, and Dog keeping an eye out for enemies coming from the rear. Seeing no obvious threat, they surveyed the hall that they had just entered.

The corridor was about two meters wide and about fifteen meters long. The opposite wall had five doors fairly evenly spaced, all closed. The east wall, which was the one that the runners were entering from, had three doors; the one the team was in, one a few meters north, which led to the reception hall, and another north of that, presumably into the room the orks had burst in from. The hallway also seemed to turn to the right at the end.

The four methodically checked all the rooms. The first seemed to be an office of sorts. There was a desk, some pictures, and of course a computer. The second was similar, but also contained a window and a fireplace on the western wall. The next two proved to be the same as the first.

Not wanting to leave their backs exposed, they checked the room on the right before searching the last one on the other side. It was what appeared to be a security post of sorts. Night was a minor-league decker when the team needed one, so he quickly tried to access the system. After several failed attempts, he said, "The power has been cut to the room from another source. It must have been done as soon as the sec-guards left the room. Someone around here is a touch paranoid."

"Methinks I know who," replied Bear.

"Does this mean that you can't deck into the system?" inquired Dog.

"That's what it means, all right," sighed Night, "It's a one-way system, most likely. Commands can be given one way, but not the other. It's an expensive process, but an effective one. I guess that we'll just have to deal with any security that they have."

"Good," rumbled Trife, who was getting a little bored and irritable.

They went next to the final door of the hall. it turned out to be a bathroom. It was a bathroom of exquisite nature, with great brass fixtures and a large ivory claw-foot tub, but just a bathroom nonetheless.

"It looks like nothing is on this floor," Night said. The rest grunted agreement and they moved on.

Around the corner at the end of the corridor was a large space that must once have contained a grand spiral staircase. The stairs were long ago torn out and a large elevator now took their place.

"Oh, great," griped Trife, for if there was no other means up or down, they were almost assuredly stopped here. Nobody aware of their presence would just let them ride around at will. They would probably shut the elevator down from the main security terminal. Or, on a more sadistic note, let the team enter the elevator, raise it a few floors, then disengage the cables and let them plummet to sure death. Trife thought that maybe things were picking up a bit.

Dog looked inquisitively at the others, who all nodded. He then pressed the recessed button beside the elevator door. They all took whatever available cover that could be had and hoped for the best.

-----

The baron was enjoying himself greatly. This was the most fun the old troll had had in a long time. Of course, he shut down the first floor sec-center. After all, he couldn't have these Yankees playing with his toys. He did, however, leave the elevator operational. He couldn't disengage the cables (the system designers hadn't thought it a necessary device), but he wanted these four to come a little bit farther. He wasn't exactly positive of the motive and he enjoyed this game. When he thought that he had had enough, a team of his best soldiers would waltz in and exterminate this minor threat. The four hardened soldiers were presently waiting in the Barons chambers, just three doors down the hall from his security desk. They were on call and waiting for the opportunity of some action.

All in all, Baron Munchmaussen felt safe.

-----

The team was trapped.

Bullets sprayed from directly in front and the right side. Behind the runners and on the immediate left were walls; leading to the outside and made of ceracrete, they were too strong for even Bear to break through.

They had come to the second floor ready for battle and had not found it. They then had proceeded to do another room by room search, finding another ornate bathroom, a cloakroom, what looked to be several guest rooms, a dining room dominated by a large obsidian table, a miniaturized kitchen where two cooks could do the work of five, and finally a smoking room of sorts. This last had trophy animals and beautiful pictures of the Arctic on the walls.

The runners were searching the antler room and lulled into relative complacency when the north wall exploded with a grenade blast, hurling the four into the southern wall. All were relatively unhurt, except for Night who had been closest to the wall and was peppered with shrapnel. He was bleeding profusely from his forehead and his shoulder was useless. Bone could be seen before the blood had started to flow. He remained conscious, however, and was even able to drag himself behind the hastily erected cover that the others made.

Bear and Trife had grabbed the nearest furniture (luckily a heavy oak couch) and had made a barricade of sorts shielding them from the guards in the doorway and the ones in the hole made by the grenade. It was fairly effective cover, but they were pinned down.

The trogs were laying some fire upon the guards as Dog attempted to heal night somewhat. He laid his hands upon Night's shoulder and started to chant in German. Within seconds Night's injuries had started to heal. The pain was exquisite, but it did not last long and the wound was much less severe. He looked up at Dog as the rite was almost complete and saw the visage of a kind old bear in the stead of the other shaman's face. Bear was a healing totem and nobody would go hurt for long while Dog was around.

The shamanic mask faded from Dog's face and Night began to see more of their predicament. Bullets whined off of the couch and walls. Both Trife and Bear had been shot, but their armour had taken away most of the power from the small-caliber slugs. Two guards tried to rush the barricade with their swords drawn and raised. Dog looked up, yelled a few words, and then let out a bellowing roar. Again his shamanic mask fell over his features, this time the mouth open showing fangs and six-inch claws seeming to appear from Dog's hands. Bear was a warrior totem as well as a healer, and Dog proved this to the guards of Schloss Munchmaussen. A swirling stream of fire shot forth and enveloped half the room in crimson flame. Guards shrieked as their clothes and flesh were set aflame. The two guards running towards the team caught the worst of it. While the other guards were running away yelling and trying to extinguish their clothes, the two brave (or foolish) orks were immediately crisped. The heat was so intense around them that their swords had melted a little. Their blackened, bony husks fell to the charred floor.

Not caring about the Drain, Dog wheeled to the right and let fly a powerblast at the three remaining guards in the grenade-blasted hole. The wall, already weakened by the grenade, blew outward from the blast. The three sec-guards were thrown across the room, one breaking his neck and dying instantly. The other two were pelted with the shrapnel from the wall. Both lost an eye and one would never walk again after a beam smashed his lower vertebrae.

The pain settled on Dog like a cold vise. He slapped on a stim patch to temporarily ward off the ill effects of fatigue; this was dangerous because the chemical stimulants in the patch could easily weaken his magical ability. However, Dog believed that it was a necessary risk because all four members had to be in top fighting shape if they were to get out of this alive.

With the guards routed, Trife and Night started to put out some of the fires in the room. Old mansions like this probably didn't have automated fire extinguishers, and they didn't need the house to burn down before they succeeded at retrieving the book. Bear kept an eye out for any more surprises.

After the fires had been put out, they decided to go to the third floor. The only means of access was still the elevator, so they once again approached cautiously and pushed the button. And, once again, the elevator was empty. The team crowded in and began their ascent.

-----

The Baron was getting angry. The hitmen had vanquished his team in less than fifteen seconds, even when one of their members was wounded. His reports indicated that there were two magicians in the party. That was one more than he had and he did not like to be outdone. He decided that this little game was almost over. If they did not betray their mission on this floor, then he would call in the exterminators to finish them off.

"It's just about time," he muttered, and then the Baron of Munchmaussen started to laugh.

-----

The four runners exited the elevator alert for any sign of danger. Seeing none, they quickly ducked into the closest available door, which turned out to be a bar of sorts. There was a dumbwaiter that appeared to be linked to the kitchen below and many bottles of fine liquor. Bear and Trife packed a few away for their victory celebration later. They all went through the south door and immediately smelled the pungent aroma of something burning. There was a wooden stage set up against the far wall and a tarp with a large scorch mark in the center covering the floor. Nothing else was apparent in the room. Night peeked under the tarp and waved his fellows over.

"Well, well, what do we have here?" said Trife.

It was a circle about four meters in diameter. The perimeter was covered with occult designs and other magical phenomenon. It was quite obviously a hermetic circle, used by mages to summon their elementals. As both Dog and Night were shamans, they knew very little about things of this nature. The two magicians looked at each other and shrugged.

"Methinks I know what it is," piped up Bear.

"Oh, do tell," said Trife, not trying to stifle his laughter.

"'Kay," responded Bear, "I believe that it is a summoning circle for a hermetic's fire elemental. See the pattern on the edge there? Well, that's to control something from the plane of fire, or to banish one from the water plane. As this is quite obviously a summoning circle, I deduced that this was used to summon and bind a fire elemental. Probably a force three or four."

The other three just stared at Bear. Never before had he sounded so, well, intelligent.

Seeing his compatriot’s stares, Bear mumbled, "I took a little magical theory in high school."

Shaking his head, Trife went to the door near the south wall by the stage. Looking quickly through and seeing nothing, he motioned for his friends to follow.

Again they were in a hallway much like the ones on the other floors. The first door on the left led to a library. Not any library, but the one where the tome they were looking for presumably was. A fire was burning in the fireplace and there were more portraits like the ones downstairs on the walls. The shelves covered most of the room and they were festooned with books. There was also a bookstand near the fireplace with a thick book open atop it.

Dog said, "Remember what this book looks like: It has a frontispiece depicting the archdemon Asmodeus. Below that is the title Pandemonicus Faustus and below that the subtitle Collectanea Occultica. Both the titles and the picture are in a blood red ink that looks wet. When we find it, we take it and leave the valise. Then we figure a way to get out of this fraggin' place."

The four started to search, but stopped abruptly when Night said he thought that he had found it. He had gone to check the bookstand and found that the open tome on it was in fact the one that they were looking for.

"Wait a fraggin' minute," exclaimed Trife, "I thought you said that there was a picture of that demon-dude on the front. I don't see no demon."

"The trog's right," said Night, which earned him an evil glare from Trife, "there is no frontispiece."

"You mean we was gypped on something dat we were gonna steal?" asked Bear.

Dog started to reply when a basso profundo voice behind them said, "So that's all you were for, nicht war? I am so disappointed."

The runners turned around to face the threat. Before them was a group of people. The troll in the front was wearing traditional German royalty garb. He looked old and sick, but the light of power was still in his eyes. Behind him was Goldie, the "tour guide" that had been so inquisitive when the runners arrived in Munchmaussen village. She was wearing an armour jacket and neon hot pants. Her golden hair was tied back in a braid and she brandished a pistol. The four men behind her were also armoured and were carrying submachineguns.

Dog said, "Look, we just want the book and then we'll-"

The Baron cut him off. "You Yankees come in here and kill my people and damage my house. You do this in an attempt to steal my property. The afterlife shall not be kind to you. Farewell and die in pain." With this he gave a nod which was a signal to the team to start diving for cover.

The first shots were from Bear and they hit the other troll in the belly. The baron yelped in pain and sank to the floor. He was crawling to safety when a powerful stunbolt hit him in the back and knocked him unconscious. Meanwhile, Goldie called her elementals to her and ordered them to attack, but to be careful not to start the library on fire. Between the team and the guards arose two lizard-like beings sheathed in flames. The smell of sulfur immediately penetrated the room.

Trife summoned up his will and shot at the elementals. He knew that his bullets would not do much to the astral beings, but he wanted to fight and he couldn't see the guards. Night immediately began the process of banishing one of the elementals. He started to chant and the energies of the being began to unravel. The elemental fought back, for if Night won it would be utterly destroyed. The mystic energies were almost palpable as the two were locked in combat.

Two guards came around the spirits to get some shots off on the invaders. Bear saw the movement and fired a burst at each of them. The first was taken in the face by the bullets and hurled backward, bone and blood splashing the ancient books. The second guard ducked and managed to fire two bursts at the troll. One hit him in the upper shoulder and the recoil of the gun carried the other above him. He spun partially and would probably have been hit again if Trife hadn't fired first. His gun was set on fully automatic and he fired a full burst of ten rounds at the woman before she could recover fully from her dodge. The slugs hit her in the legs, smashing both kneecaps and shredding her flesh from the bone. She fell shrieking into a growing pool of blood. Seeing that she was out of the fight, Trife again concentrated on the spirits.

There was an unholy shriek and one of the fire creatures disappeared in a cloud of sulphurous smoke. Night slumped against the bookstand, drained from his battle.

Dog had switched to astral perception and could now see Goldie preparing a spell. He saw the energies summoned, directed, and then let loose upon the party. He just had time to use his shielding for the group before the combat spell hit. She wasn't expecting this much resistance (Dog was an initiate) and so had made the spell too weak. It was easily absorbed and deflected by Dog's defense. Deciding that Goldie was a threat that they didn't need, and seeing an opening on her, Trife fired a short, controlled burst at the mage. Her neck exploded in crimson and white as the bullets chewed apart her throat. She gave one mangled cry before her larynx was destroyed. The wounded mage fell to the floor, gasping and drowning in her own blood. The second elemental expired as she did.

The only two guards left in the fight both saw Trife as the major threat and both fired at him simultaneously. One burst was too high and too wide, but the other caught him in the midsection, armour and blood flying from the impact points. Trife went reeling back into Night and both toppled to the floor.

Dog witnessed his friends fall and let the rage of his totem overtake him. With a great ursine roar, he launched a manabolt at each of the guards. Casting two simultaneous spells was difficult at best, but it was effective. Both the enemies were dead instantly, blood and other fluids leaking from their ears and noses. Dog hoped that that was the last of them because that one just about put him out and the patch hadn't even worn off yet.

While Bear did a quick surveillance of the hall, Dog checked on the other two shadowrunners. Night seemed groggy but all right, and Trife was still conscious although his face was blanched with pain. Dog tried a weak heal spell. He probably shouldn't, but he had to at least try to fix some of the damage done to Trife's innards. Trife just kept saying that he was all right and grinding his teeth.

Bear reappeared and said that all was clear. He would keep a look out while the rest continued the search for the book.

"What we should do wit dis fragger?" inquired Bear, nodding towards the Baron.

"I don't kno-" Dog started to reply, but he stopped when he heard the troll groan and roll over. Didn't these trogs ever stay down? he asked himself.

Night, Dog, and Bear dragged the Baron to the room at the other end of the hall, which happened to be the Baron's quarters. Using his plastic restraints, Night secured Munchmaussen to the bed. Trife stumbled into the room and Bear stayed vigilant in the hall.

"Who are you people?" asked the Baron.

"We're your worst nightmare," Trife answered as he coughed up blood and spit it on the dresser. That was when he noticed an open book beside the bed.

Night followed his gaze and picked up the tome. He smiled as he saw what was depicted on the cover.

"Bingo," he whispered. "Bear," he said, looking up, "bring that valise over here."

"Da what?" he said, "oh, you mean da bomb. Here, catch!" With that he threw the case across the room into Night's arms. Dog held his breath and waited to die, while Trife grinned and did the same.

Night set the case on the table and placed the tome in his backpack. As he got up from the bed, he turned to the Baron and said, "We bring greetings from the UCAS and wish you a merry Christmas." At this he laughed, as if to some private joke.

"You're all dead! All of you!" This was as much as the runners could understand from the Baron because he soon switched to heavily accented German that not even Dog could understand. The team left the room with Munchmaussen still ranting behind them.

"I say we geek him," expressed Trife.

The others just nodded. Trife always thought that the best solution to any problem was to kill the ones responsible.

The trip out was easy compared to the relative hell of going in. They mane it to the tramway without incident and were on their way down to the village of Munchmaussen, when Night's microtranceiver picked up a message.

"I shall not forget any of you, Yankee scum. I will find you and kill you all. To you, this I vow."

"I told you we shoulda geeked him," grumbled Trife as they watched the Baron's escape helicopter fly into the gray German sky.

As they saw the chopper disappear with distance, a great explosion from the Schloss shook the tram. Parapets from the castle were hurled into the air and a brass bathtub narrowly missed their tramcar.

And as Dog, Night, and Bear stared with shock and dawning horror at the ruins of the castle, Trife began to laugh, and didn't stop until they reached the ground.