All Works included in the page, by all contributing authors is from here on out covered in the FairUse Act. NONE OF THESE WORKS MAYBE REPRODUCED WITHOUT OUR EXPRESS PERMISSION; CHANCES ARE WE WILL NOT GIVE PERMISSION. **PLEASE DO NOT ASK US**

Penthesilea's Castle
Courtyard...

The two women stood in the courtyard of the ruined castle at the end of a long journey. What had once been beds of beautiful flowers were choked with weeds, the fountain in the center of the courtyard was dry, its basin cracked and the center statue laying shattered at its base.Tumbled blocks of limestone littered the yard.
"Ah," the taller woman said, her red hair stirring faintly in the breeze. "Home, sweet home."
"You're sure?" the younger one asked. "It looks like a zombie war zone."
"It has fallen into disrepair since my Uncle died and his children were unable to hold it. Come on, but carefully. Something may have set up housekeeping..."
The two women approached the great, metal-reinforced doors that led to the Great Hall. "My mother's people were the landholders here for generations. My grandfather was a powerful wizard and he greatly expanded the Castle. When he died, it went to my Uncle, who did a good job of keeping order. Unfortunately, none of his children or their spouses were up to the job, something his wife refused to accept. She tried to manage herself rather than call on any of her nieces or nephews. She couldn't control the forces that come with the land. They got away from her and destroyed her.
"What kind of forces?
"Magical, mostly, and the Castle sets over the entrance to a Reality Nexus. Without a strong hand in charge, all sorts of things can come into this reality."
"That explains the orcs, goblins, direwolves, giant spiders, multiheaded serpents, vampires and cranky centaurs we ran into on the way here," Bladeraven observed.
"Exactly. That's why we left the cats with the baggage train. Four feline wizards backed by cranky gremlins should be enough protection for the moment."
Swords drawn, the two women slipped through the doors into the darkness of the entry hall. Three open doorways, one to the left, one to the right and one directly ahead of them, presented themselves.
"Straight ahead. The side passages may still be boobytrapped." Penthesilea whispered. Bladeraven nodded and they approached the door from opposite sides. Cautiously, they peeked in.
"Damn," Penthesilea whispered.
"Green hags," Bladeraven whispered in disgust, "why did it have to be green hags?"
"The gods love us," Penthesilea replied. "At least they haven't had time to flood the Great Hall. Activate your 'True Sight Talisman' and cast 'Strength of Twenty."
"Done."
As one, twenty heads turned toward the doorway. Howls of rage blasted from twenty throats as the hags charged.....

The Great Hall

"That was fun," Bladeraven said as she cleaned her sword on a fallen hag's clothing.
"Nothing like a bit of exercise to get the blood running." Penthesilea stepped over various hag parts littering the floor. "Good thing we got them cleaned out before any men found them."
"What now?"
"Penthesilea pointed to a plain, black highbacked chair on a platform at the back of the room. "I sit down." Penthesilea made for the chair, Bladeraven at her heels.
As Bladeraven watched, Penthesilea seated herself on the black chair and placed her left hand over the rounded top of a short limestone pillar beside the chair.
"WHO DARES?" a voice thundered from the air.
"I am Penthesilea of Clan Swordkin, called Aresthygater. I claim the title 'Keyholder' by right of Blood."
For several seconds, nothing happened.
"It's about damn time you showed up!"
Before Bladeraven's startled eyes, a tall apparition faded into view.
Penthesilea grinned. "Blame your son's choice of wife, Grandfather. Long time, no see."
"Well, I'm dead, you know." He looked at Bladeraven appreciatively. "Who's your friend? She's hot!"
Bladeraven blushed.
"Her name's 'Bladeraven'. She's my Swordsister and she prefers her men to be, at least, corporeal."
"Damn," the apparition swore, then took a long pull from the 2 quart stein in his hand. "Oh well, then. You know the drill, granddaughter."
Penthesilea nodded and spoke in a clear, firm voice. "I swear by Blood and Sword to hold this Castle against all foes. For as long as this Realm endures and I draw breath in it -- this Castle shall stand!"
The pillar under Penthesilea's hand began to glow. The light flowed and spread out like water and where it flowed, the Castle was restored to its former glory. Before Bladeraven's startled eyes, tapestries and carpets restored themselves, rotted wood was made whole, walls were repaired and rebuild, statues regained their pedestals and wholeness and beauty were restored.
"I am the Keyholder." On cue, a ring of keys, some quite strange, dropped into Penthesilea's lap. She turned to Bladeraven. "Let's call the baggage train."