Several Winter Saga: The Altor War 2

Gilder, used a gun like a novice, but with the one given to him by his friend, the chief, that didn't matter so much. The elf crafted arm was superbly designed with a long barrel riffle-bored for accuracy. And with it, he held his own in sniping the packed orc braves attempting to overtake the high cliff on the eastern flanks of the long extended battle front.

"They advance again!" one of the hob's shouted back to him from the tall pines and brambles where they lay hidden, peppering the enemy with well aimed shot!

The volleys came back in a mass of lead, as the orcs ordered a firing line and let fly with older and less accurate arms!

But the braves of Hippinaquin were raised as marksmen, or marks-hob's, as it were!

"Docent of the Hosts, and here I lay, one man in a gun skirmish of goblin-folk. How did it come to this? Where is the honorable combat my uncle used to sing of? And for what aim do we lay orcs in their graves? Why after so long are the Altor's looking southwards? Why are we no closer to seeing the true evil of our day?" Gilder asked himself silently.

"Ride north and you must fear for your life ere ye tread and return again to the war your missing, ride east and spiders wait in defiles, ride west and the Wen will flay your flesh for sport, of course south you'll die indignantly in shadows for your coin purse! The insanity is all too depressing! All I ever wanted was to make a good account of my family name, yet here I lay, and likely forever!" he groaned, having only his own black thoughts to feed on, packing his ramrod into the muzzle of his riffle for another shot.

"A fine fracas, eh?" The chieftain said with an elbow nudge in his armored gut.

The little warrior lay flat behind the fallen trunk with his knightly friend, hunkering to escape the haphazard flight of orc round-shot.

"Fine..isn't the word I'd choose, good goblin!" Gilder grimaced!

*Whistle* the hobgoblin enunciated!

Braves with war clubs and painted for their death walks rushed down the steep wooded incline to brain larger and better armed orc infantry!

With happy roars they crushed helmed heads under mighty blows! Even as their fellows flew backwards dead with shot buried in their bodies!

The orc tactic was to advance in armored ranks as the gun-lines pinned the hob down, but they erred in thinking these fine warriors placed so high a value on their lives!

"Wee-Wee-Ya!!" a wild young hobgoblin with white lightning bolts painted on his black face squealed as jumped from on high to fly out over his brethren with only a flaked stone dagger as a weapon!

He embedded it in an orc shield of hard iron, and was promptly dispatched by the brutish monsters heavy war maul!

Yet such courage and dashing bravado was what it took to instill the proper fear in the foe. And after the rush of young braves, the Kirawak's broke and were gunned down as they fled for cover in the lower forest of the pass!

"Ha-Ye-Yip-Yip-Wee!!" Hippinaquin screamed as he stood to hold his gun high and his knife with it in triumph! "They are broken for this hour! Many dead, but a good death for each of my sons!" he mused.

"Your sons were in that charge?" Gilder asked with perplexed astonishment.

"You ask as one stranger to our ways, so it is a for a jest! Ha, ha! But I am chief! Degathad's own priest! And all my tribe are my children!" he grinned as the warriors all around them whooped and cheered this brief stay in the ongoing fight.

***

Darkness in the hours before dawn would come, and the Altor camp was lifeless except for the groan of wounded and the snoring of exhausted carls and thanes. The light of the fires was dim in the fall of a fresh but light snow. Only the tents of the leaders had burning lamps.

"Lord Halfdan, the Whitrian devil must be slain! He humiliates us, killing hundreds of our best in every battle! His hated magic's are a mockery of our Lord, and powerful! This demons elf crafts will be the end of our invasion even before it begins!"

Halfdan stood to strike the wayward earl in the face, and the blow caused him to stagger and plop hard on the stone floor of the grand tent!

"You think you are preaching to the wise, but you say nothing I do not know myself!" he roared! "He is a sage, a master of the elf way of magic and a cleric besides, a paladin of the harlot of light! You think I don't want him headless?!"

"All my earlmen and my thanes have tried at every opportunity to end this bastard, but he is a champion! The goddess he prays to is a powerful one, but Altor watches over him as well!" the jarl fumed.

"He needs be broken, or taken far from the fight for just long enough, so that we can overcome the pass defenders. The tightness of this vale is all that aids them. In the open they would run to their keeps rather than face us shield-to-shield! And he knows this!" the intelligent warlord explained.

The earl, Judurn, righted himself as he wiped the blood from his lips. "I had 600 fine carls and over 50 famous thanes under my hold. Now I have 150 and only ten are men of real worth with enough hero fame to be dreaded. If we are going to do this thing..it must be soon..or we will perish in the Cry and never see the fabled keep." he cautioned all the gathered lords.

"By Altor! What's that sound?!!" another leader asked!

Outside the tent a running horse was spotted, but it went by swiftly even as the camp stirred to life!

It sped to the palisade right down the center of the heathen encampment. The watchers loosed arrows but both crossed just behind the rider as his steed reared to bound over the spiked stakes!

Off into the night down the bloody slope of the battlefield the swift beast tore, and the two sentries turned back to listen to the coming of something else....

***

Gasca, raced through the woodlands with abandon, his face striped with cuts from the wap of low pine and spruce branches as he rode past them precariously close to the trunks!

A small briar stem embedded under his left eye where the bush had snagged him and not let go! Its five tiny barbs, clutching his skin with an eagles tenacity!

But he dare not slow his stride nor release the reigns to pick it free!

Behind him the torches flickered, a mob of monstrous things hot on his heels, if he had not been on horseback he would have been overtaken long before!

But he had stirred up this nest of hornets with clear intentions and so they gave chase as he knew they would!

He heel struck a spearman at station as a guard on the open northern gate of the Altor encampment! Rushing past the flailing man with a speed to challenge a diving falcon!

The carl barreled over a stand of potato sacks, out cold, but his counterpart on the other side of the narrow opening un-belted a hunting horn and blew it riotously to wake the camp!

In a moment the sleeping warriors began to rouse to the steady clop of his horses hoofed feet, but they were tired from a hard day of war and most simply watched him ride past in shock at the brazen move! What kind of fool would be so bold?

The kind who had more to loose in stopping, if you asked the rouge!

"This is going to be close!" he whispered to himself as he came to the outwardly turned spike row of pine stakes used as a makeshift gate by the pirate army.

He was a seasoned rider and trusted his horse, though tired as it was, wanted to live as much if not more so than himself!

He dug in his heels in a jockey crouch and braced tensely as the animal lunged for the final great stride that would end in a mighty leap!

The thud and impact on the outside was a cheerful outcome! The horse never broke stride after a momentary slipping slide on the slushy, icy inclined pathway leading down into the camps of the Foldland alliance!

The carl he'd kicked over on the far end began at last to regain his senses. His fellow helped him to stand only to be greeted by sheer panic! The flickering lights in the forest gave over to terrifying snarls and growling as the Wulfen hunters came roaring out of the pines!

The mans shrill cry was brief as the first to his mark locked jaws over his face!

The horn was muffled by the horror of its blower this time, but the thanes and journeymen were now up and armed.

They saw the frightening horde sprinting and jumping in over their palisade by the dozens and fear turned to disgust at having to repel a raiding force when they were all in need of rest! But the row of shields was formed, an order to advance given in haste by their aldermen, and soon bloody mayhem engulfed the Altor base-camp!

The beastmen were unaware the rider had nothing to do with the host they now locked horns with. He was man, and had committed atrocity on their sleepy tribe hours before. Gasca led them right to the waiting heathens in expedient manner. The Wulfen stalkers following the scent of horse and human to a clot full of ape-thing bastards! They would exact more than a pound of flesh this night once they realized they had caught them unawares!

***

Skennitus stayed the Copper Fold crossbowman as he took aim on the dark figure dashing headlong towards the campsite. The Altor's seldom if ever kept or rode horses, so the wise sheriff knew it to be a friend.

"Make way for him!" he bleated, as the man drew near enough to be identified as a woodland ranger.

The halberd's parted to allow his entry.

"My thanks, friend. It was a hard ride to get so far in so short a time. My companion and I were well north and near our destination when we realized we were needed at this fight." Gasca relayed.

"Your the Emitria brother who rode off with noble, Gilder. But where is the knight?" the inquisitor asked him.

"He comes by his own way. I had to gather a small gift for the Altor's they are at present enjoying" the ranger smiled as he ripped the briar free from his cheek! "a furry gift with teeth and claws."

Clashing metal and screams echoed above the pass with roars mixing in the winds of the falling snow storm.

Skennitus chuckled warmly. "I see, well played then, master rouge. We have had a full plate in quelling this push for the south."

"I can see that." Gasca reasoned aloud, glancing at the piled heaps of the dead of both armies still lying fresh in the snowfall. In the lows between the incline and the wide ditch dug by the pass defenders.

"To know my friend has not yet returned is disquieting." he admitted to the clergyman.

"Especially, when seeing the sight of these poor sods laying about, no doubt. But rest easy, all this day and for a further two days, we heard the clap of muskets on the east ridge. The Hobgoblin's our goodly knights befriended are said to own those highs. Gilder, I understand, was blood brother to them." Skennitus noted.

"I am as well now. They were our salvation in the Cry when first we trekked north. It were to them he was promised to ride. So your word brings much needed comfort, friend." he nodded. "And what of the Copper Fold defenses? Are they holding? I left my sister as a ward to the Queens house."

"No word, friend Emitria, I beg pardon. But no news can be good on occasion." the sheriff quipped to brighten the thought.

"Aye, it can be. Or silent as the grave." Gasca spoke in the humorless ways of his kin.

***

A pitched battle erupted in the place far to the west of the hob position. The orcs must have heard it sooner, for the braves looked on in awe of the vacant Kirawak camp.

"Many left the fires, even as they chanted a curse song to Hath, promising our death." a scout told them upon return.

"Down the cliff and we strike at their rear!" the chief ordered.

"They join the Altor's in defense?" Glider wondered aloud.

"My guess, the nimble rouge you were waiting on has made his move. The orcs will be distracted. When we fall on their rear with clubs and guns they will crumble!" the old fighter plotted.

"It might just work...." Gilder admitted. Though it was gutsy to leave such a well defensible ridge. Should the orcs reorder and drive back the attack, they could slay many as they ran back up the steep slope.

"I might even find my way south." he thought to himself.

So he took his kite up from the fireside as he tossed the ornamentally decorated riffle back to his little friend.

"Down the cliff, and we gut the knaves!" he winked.

They hit the rear with an ordered assault, first firing a devastating volley from only yards behind the embattled orc and Wulfen brawlers. The copper shots ripped through the enemy with force killing the five or six beyond if the target was not well armored!

Then they rushed the recovering monsters and showed no pity in murdering every wounded or stunned foe they came to!

Gilder's sword ran with blood as the enemy staggered under his powerful blows!

One hit and he went to the next one, one smashed face with the shield and a sword stroke to end was all it took to gut twenty by the break of dawn!

The sun was damaging to the Kirawak's but his allies were sensitive to its rays as well. They held their hardened wood and leather shields up to block their eyes and broke off the rampage. All the while, the Wulfen host had torn into them from the other side!

"I can shimmy down the cliff if I skirt the Altor defenses." the caviler told his friend.

"Be sly, and seek the good death, friend." Hippinaquin said quietly, patting his shoulder with a palm that held a blood soaked dagger.

But he went undetected as the Wulfen menace was stayed by the occupied Altor defenders. Fighting all night had taken a real toll on the battered and now weary heathens.

One even looked his way as he saw the man creep by, but fell limply on his shield in a snore.

The Altor archers were the only obstacle as he sprinted for the openness of the pass!

One arrow clipped his plated shoulder but deflected off it as he scurried off, and he was met moments later by a fellow Docent of his order as the sun rose high over the mountains.

***

Alvantus of the Bleat, strode over the corpses of many dead Duskguards. Many of the Wolf lay flain open and bloody, or pinned to the timbered inner walls of the stone tower, or just the skins of them. Knights in full armor lay in their steel plate likewise mutilated. As if in the briefness of the dark summons something had stilled time itself and meticulously decorated with carnage.

"What sick evil begot such horror?!" the great, Tonpha, burped with the vomit that followed his words!

"Orbanor..of course..." the smug little monster declared in glee. "I told each of you his was the only true power in this land." the cackling warlock explained.

"Truly, such sights would gag a maggot! I have done with this miserable scene!" the gigantic warrior said in exiting the tower.

And so followed the few brave enough to enter with him. The company of mongrel and spider was better by far than such a grizzled display.

"Now, to test the false druids of the wilds. Will their powers keep them? Or has the old magic faded with the ages?" Blackbulb mused on the coming attack on the unsuspecting Copper Fold.

As he stepped out the door, an arrow flew in to narrowly miss his nose at the great threshold of the tower!

It hit the rafter in the doorway with a thud and wobbled with its head dug deeply in the wood!

"Blasted roguish knights!" he said of the Wolfguard force fast on the advance in the open down before the mining complex!

The ranger equipped knights, sons of bandits and harlots all, each carried an impressive longbow. They had a buckler on their bow hand and belted a broadsword on their waists.

On they came, with little fear of the great widows or the welpish dwarf creed that charge with them! They had hunted the giant spiders for the past few winters, so there was no hesitation in putting them to the blade!

The Altor warband, that was another story!

The running human warriors loosed around four good shots in the enemies direction before the lines clashed! Hammers broke bone under the force of their falling, and nimble knights of the Shade order sliced and ran through the little brutes with ease!

But they would not close when the heathen thanes drew near in the shieldwall.

They'd break off their melee's and fire arrows at the solid formation!

The Altor crossbowmen, now mostly armed with powerful heavy windlass models taken from the dead defenders, would pop up as the warleader gave the cry to split!

The well placed volley saw more than a few Wolves riddled with bolts that could pierce full armor. A pity it was, they wore mail and coif! But the luck ones wore the enchanted leathers of tale, and escaped with minor wounds as they sprinted for the solace of
Castle Paleokor.

The spiders, some carrying little riders with savage, long, hooking halberds, gave chase and were not easily outrun! But to the credit of the men of the Shade, they flew over the downs like running deer in that wild way of their ancestors!

In time, they reached the castle with warning well ahead of the arachnid cavalry who were slowed by the Swamp Stomper's detour through the marshlands, the small patrol they were having no chance against the great host that defeated them, but the majordomo greeted each with a heartfelt bow in honor of their fallen and their brave attack.

"We will not fret this. What befell a simple watchtower will not destroy this grand hold. For generations this castle has been the refuge of the workmen, and it will be so now!" Hestra spoke boldly, summoning a stately voice she had-never-had before. "Captain, ride hard on our fastest mounts and give the word for all those who have yet to come into the ring wall! We will not leave them to the slaughter our murderous foes have planned!" on her command he bowed swift and departed, snagging his boots in hand as he left the fine carpeted throne room.

"Ladies of the Keep! Begin your song of chanting!" the call issued from her throat!

This was the alert Talphenia had shared with no one outside her most trusted circles. The chant that would bolster the enchantments on the castle and seal it from the power of darkness.

"Octe," she said turning to the lovely girl by her side. "with me..." and so she said determinately, in retiring from before the court, the lovely melodic tones of the Elfish lymric echoing softly but powerfully in the halls of Paleokor's main palace.

***

The Prelate rode hard to the flank and turned yet another charge of the Wen attackers! The sixth time in as many days of hard fighting. But even now, there were no Altor's in the warbands.

The eerie sensation ran up his spine, that he had been duped into leaving his master unattended.

No simpleton could have arrived at that thought, yet, Stanton, was far from simple, and a veteran of many battles.

"To the rear!" he gave in order! "Let none flee for the trees this day!" he passionately cried to his knights, both Owls and Dawnguard rode with him, and the duke was in that number.

"Hinter Fold victorious!" he shouted as he raced to the commanders side. "And yet, not a one of the dread woman's host lay dead!" he said, joining the old warrior in his thoughts.

"I fear they have slipped away, back over the mountains, perhaps they have been reenforced or have shared word with the mighty warlord in the north. Either outcome is a dubious thought." Stanton brooded, leaving off any suspicions he might hold.

"She was sore wounded in the first battle. I did my all to kill the wench, but alas, it was prudent to retire and not leave my share without a lordship." Duncan added.

"Maybe she went home to recover. War wounds can lead to death on occasion. If the treatment is not hasty and ill done." the duke reasoned.

"Aye. You know war, master duke. Even the small can become the bane of the mighty." Winnlock agreed.

As they bandied the fleeing army fell under the skillful riders of the folds. Many Wen's were rode over and trampled under trained warhorses, and others were winged so as to be taken by the Hintermen not far behind the mounted elites. This battle had been as brief and frightening as the others, and that made both knights grumble with furrowed brows.

"I will send riders to guard the trains headed north." the younger knight promised. "The South Passage has Smalland archers posted over it now. I doubt any foes would be so foolish as to raid it."

"Will you ride to the Little Fold on the morrow?" Prelate asked on his intentions.

"I must," he began in answer. "I gave word to the new baron of Middle Fold, that as he lent his support to the pass defense, I would uphold his claims there. And my own subjects look to my coming as well. It is tedious to deal with women so strong of mind, but a necessity to placate them. As many Hinter's as dwell now in the old keep, now room in her citadel as well."

"That is a proof of the new kindness they swear by is of a truth, genuine." Winnlock jested.

"But who can say how long they will be kind. I will do all I can to keep them jovial, but if she proposes marriage to her remaining daughter once more..." he drifted off without finishing his thought aloud.

"It would put you in a dominant position as a southerly lord. With stakes in three share holds, not just in the Hinterland." Stanton deduced.

"But the power hub would be Little Fold, and the grand harvest could be subject to unlawful taxation. The ladies, the Dame, Dame, as she would be named, in particular. She has no greater desire than to hold the crown hostage through economy." the duke spoke nobly.

"Why, you surprise me greatly." Stanton admitted. "I had thought you harbored some grief against the king of late."

"I did not agree with the kings ruling on the Fold Wild's, but I am a man of faith and piety. I remember who my father and mother were in spite of his harsh reproaches, and know my place is to aid the crown as my first duty. Hatred never enters into it. I respect my kings crown, and the line who has borne it these many years." the duke answered with a ring of true devotion.

The Prelate took him by the shoulder when he heard it. "Well said, and well thought, sir knight! The king has the greatest need of such servants!"

The duke returned the gesture in kind with a nod, one knight to another. "As he is prudent to send me his best, when needed!" He returned in complementary agreement. "I must away, then! Can't have the stink of battle on me when I ride east! To the south and a freshly drawn bath, to be presentable at the court of the opulent! I bid ye good even, sir!"

***

Albert was in his study, with the young adviser seated near at his other writing desk. The king at toil in figuring the account of the coffers, now hemorrhaging coin at a rate unforeseen a year ago hence. The young scholar, penning an monition of an earlier work by his late masters hand. The king rubbed his eyes and stood to stretch his back, curiosity eventually compelling him to look over the young mans shoulder to see what he was at work on.

"Which is the proper spelling? And where did the name even originate?" he asked the knowledgeable scribe, to rest his own mind from the business of exchequer.

"Both are correct, oddly enough." the councilor snickered lightly. "As to the origins, Kirah-wak, has the meaning of, Great Goblin, in the annealed tongue of the elder hobgoblin tribes of the Copper Arrow Mountains. The name was given in honor of the race in that age, though you could not tell it to see their present interactions. Kira-wak, is  with a silent, 'h', is the human derivative, but only because the word is said in haste most often." he explained on command for his liege.

"Fascinating," the king chuckled. "I imagine few if any folk ever ponder such questions." he shrugged.

"Aye, master, but I'm here precisely in the case they do! Ha, ha!" the clerk joked!

"Well, have at it. I'm off to the privy, and to bed. Don't sit up too late, and be.." he said, but was interrupted.

"sure to snuff the candles for the night." the clerk finished his sentence for him.

"I'm truly that repetitive aren't I?" the king jested in leaving the study.

The gatehouse hung open to allow the last of the peasant farmers and ox and goat herds in. A few cotters even brought in geese and swine, and the camp maids began to wring necks and select choice pigs for the spits.

In the entrance of the grand gateway and the wide courts of the outer walls, the shanty town housed near five thousand souls.

Fires dotted the press of huddled humanity. Some were not lucky enough to have a hearth in a tent or a hut. They loomed around the firesides like moaning and sniffling phantoms. Snow fell in around them, but most of them were men who stood by choice in the frost. Their children and lady folk were the ones who slept well.

The gate guards were sluggish in the task after hours of repetitive motions and no threats day-after-day. When the Altor raiders threw back their cloaks and other hides of pretense, the ax was in their skulls before the knights could react!

Halfdan's child had used the Wen's to gain entry on her own terms!

The Prelate was sent out to hunt a black dog in the night, while that dog ran back up the refugee trains and walked right into the keep!

The heavy bundles of the peasantry hid shield and ax well! Hid spear and sword also! So that when they walked, they were as meager looking as any ragged farmer....

The companions spread out fast and ran the hallways of the outer walls looking for the one way into the inner walls! They were met along the way with dash and danger! The Dawn Guard, were not to be out fought in their station as knights now that the foes location was known!

But the pirate elites seemed to know just where they were headed as if a map to the gun stores was in each of the pagan warriors minds!

Too late the guards at the door came to the realization! They were massing in the wrong spot. The Altors were not rushing the entry to the inner keep, they were diverting the  weight of knights from their primary target!

With ten raiders against only four knights with pikes, the heathens took the locked storeroom and set up in the kings keep with guns at their disposal.

The slow methodical assault from the time they took the guns in hand played out like a skillful dance of siege skills the pagans would have had to have worked very hard to loose with!

Dawnguard champions died by two's and eights as they trotted around the corridors to meet the unfair advantage of their foemen!

Albert, took his young adviser by his neck and forced his exit from the study into the hidden passage within the keeps walls.

"Pirates, lad. The keep sounds to be falling. We must ride it out in silence." he explained as the scrawny young man shook in his robes.

***

The ground shook as the wizard loosed a ball of flaming, metallic mass!

Spiders both large and small withered away like charred pine straw!

The little tubby riders on their backs, with grizzly polearms, meeting ends well deserved!

"Man the south wall!" Danel ordered the spooked militiamen as he sprinted from one side of the complex to the other! The fight was raging over the barony castle, and the siege was imperiled by the brave Emitria warrior!

"We must hold, the south lies a vast shadowy path to embed their eggs! Do you want broods of Bleat's and nets of spiders for decades to come?!! The Widows die here!" And the crossbows began to aim for the head as the little woman of his clan showed them exactly where to place the fatal bolt!

Her single well timed and aimed shot was like an assassin's poetic work! From high up on the majordomo's terraced landing it flew in to strike the largest Widow Maker! The wizards' lightning strikes and hard rains hampering the foe who advanced in pitched blackness, only seen when the shocking ripple of magic shot from the hands of Dwarfish shaman! The lead wizard loosed his third spell of metallic orb, and fell to the walls planks as his energy gave out! The blast killed the last of the truly mighty arachnids, and the defenders shouted in cheer!

They all knew the true giants were females....

Danel lifted his tower shield to block it, as a Bleat wizard hurled a weaker version of the same spell his way! It blew up around the mighty warriors huge frame, and the militia again roared in confidence!

The sheriff's deputy ran to his side and shot a grand horse-sized spider dead with her riffle using the failing light to aim for just an isntant! "Gunmen! To the battlements!" her dainty voice echoed thunderously against the crackle of thunder! The ripple of musket flashes would light up the old magic's!

The fearless lady captain held her hand up!

"Ready! Take your marks! Fire!!" she commanded the well practiced unit of Copper Fold's shooters! In the brief light, the Emitria child killed a large thane as he topped the battlements with an ax falling towards, Danel's, head! He swung an axe of his own into the face of an equally mighty fellow! As he fell limply, his fierceness ended in cold carnage! Danel, walked thusly about the wall, smiting whatsoever dangers he came upon in the magically warded dimness where men could still see!

Another crackle of the rippling muskets, and the ranger high above him chose another fearsome attacker! A horrible but tall dwarf breed! He held a deviously bladed sword with recurving, rippling serrations! A devious blade, meant to gut in one thrust-and-pull! He came for her brave brother, but ended in perfect timing, with another expert shot!

He span and swung the blade upward into the sternum of an Altor brute, a second dwarf warriors mace clanging off the tower shield now strapped to his back! He span as he felt it, and split the things head in two! Those not fighting in sections cheered him on as they watched him for inspiration!

His romp looked fluid, fun, as if they were seeing mankind in the task he was designed to preform. He rolled with attackers and ended each one as if in a lovely dance, sparing many defenders as they fought them, many never saw the strike coming until he had murdered them whole!

But by the seventh volley of the musket line, the girl shrieked to see a short Altor thane holding his round shield low and twisting his spear in the gut of their hero! "NoooOohhhhoooooooo!" Octe wailed in falling on her bottom, the grief sapping all the fight from her momentarily as mighty, Danel Emitria, plummeted over the edge of the wall to the cobbled courtyard below....

***