Volan sat in the makeshift conference room gazing out the window.  His
fingers tapped out an odd rhythm as he decided what to do.  The other faces
around the table stared at him, waiting impatiently for his verdict.  They
knew Volan would deliver harsh justice, and were eager to find out what form
punishment would take.

"I do believe," Volan started, scratching his stubbly beard and taking a
dramatic pause, "I do believe that I have been quite clear.  Renaffe, I am
not in the habit of beating around the bush, am I?"  All eyes turned toward
the younger dragon rider and he squirmed in his seat clearing his throat.

"No, winglord, you most certainly are not, uh, known for being vague."  To
his relief, Volan smiled and returned to looking out the window.  It was
raining, and the patter of the rainfall echoed throughout the room.

Volan continued, as if distracted by the rain, "no, no I do get right to it.
Unfortunately I am a little unsure how to proceed on this one.  On the one
hand we have a rider who has been a valuable addition to our group;
dedicated, loyal, only a bit of a troublemaker, but who the hell isn't..."
the rest of the men quickly laughed at Volan's dark humor.  Each one began
to grow a little more afraid as the smile on Volan's face hardened into a
mocking grin.

"But on the other hand, we have a failure.  The man was sent to investigate
and report back to me.  And what does he come back to report?  Nothing.
That's right, he didn't see, hear, or uncover anything; even with the
numerous leads I gave him.  A simple assignment botched by a supposedly
'experienced' rider."  His smile was gone now.  Throughout his speech
Volan's voice had been growing louder and louder until he was practically
shouting.

>From outside the conference room, the sharp wail of a dragon could be
heard,
followed by the roar of a louder and deeper dragon.  Everyone in the room
turned to look out the window, hoping to get a glance at what was happening.

Volan returned to his seat.  "The dragons are restless.  The matter is to be
resolved now.  I cannot tolerate, nor will I accept failure on the part of
my riders.  I must know that I have the most competent members in our group.
I must know that I have one hundred percent of their loyalty, and also that
I can expect my orders to be carried out explicitly and without question."
With his fingers steepled in front of his face, he glared at the others
sitting around the table.  His eyes met each of theirs, and he knew that
there would be no contradiction or challenge to his decision.

"My judgment is death, to be carried out immediately."

_________________

The group leaders filed out of the conference room, apprehensive about what
was to happen.  Volan had been in a cruel mood ever since the sacking and
looting of Ismene Warren had not delivered the artifact to them a few weeks
before.  The incident with the strange woman and man after the ransacking
had done nothing to put Volan in a better mood.  Talar, the black, wingless
wyrm that Volan rode had been unapproachable.  Not even the young dragon
med.. could get close enough to look at and treat his injuries.  Every so
often the wyrm would disappear, not to be heard of from for days.  His
return was always accompanied by strange rumors of one or more of the newer,
less important riders and their dragons disappearing, presumably dead.

The scene that greeted the leaders was not encouraging.  In the courtyard
two poles protruded from the ground, each as thick as a man's waist.
Suspended from the poles was a man, naked and spread eagled, pulled taut
between the poles by lengths of rope.  His head was slumped toward his
shoulder, and he whimpered almost inaudibly.

Twenty yards away lay a mature, reddish-brown dragon, trapped under a long
net.  The net was pulled tightly and fastened to the ground with thick
stakes.  The dragon thrashed madly, trying to rip the net with teeth and
claws but remained pinned down, helpless.

Volan walked toward the suspended man.  He could see the drips of blood
where the ropes had eaten into the man's wrists and ankles.  The man slowly
raised his head to stare at Volan.  He murmured something, and began to cry,
the tears falling from his glassy eyes.

Volan was immediately sickened by the man's display of weakness, and it did
nothing but reinforce the decision that he had come to.  With riders such as
this one, Volan thought to himself, I'll never find the artifact.  "The
trial is over," he said lifting the head of the man so that he would have to
look directly into Volan's eyes, "and the verdict is 'guilty'.  The
sentence, of course, is death."  He let the man's head fall back and turned
away as the man began to sob.

>From out of the woods bordering the clearing came the figures of three
large
wyrms.  Talar led the pack as they circled the red dragon trapped by the
net.  They each took a position within a ten foot radius and began to hiss
as the dragon thrashed wildly, redoubling its efforts to escape.  Circling
the dragon, the wyrms claws extended and the hiss became a low growl.

In answer, the dragon let loose a keening wail.  The three wyrms dived in on
the beast and began to tear it apart, strips of scales and flesh flying in
the air.  One wyrm let loose a blast of crystal shards from deep within its
throat, which hit the dragon head on, blinding it.  The trapped man screamed
as his dragon gave its last death throes, pitifully reaching out toward him.

Volan smiled at the carnage, proud that his Talar had managed to rip the
beating heart from the breast of the dragon.  The three wyrms each separated
with a piece of the prize, leaving an unrecognizable mass of ichor behind.
Volan signaled to one of the group leaders, who handed him a loaded
crossbow.  He walked closer to the trapped man who had now found the energy
to thrash wildly on the ropes that imprisoned him.  The loss of his dragon
had stirred him to a frenzy and the ropes had ripped through straight to the
bone.

Aiming the crossbow right between the man's eyes, Volan fired.  The close
range of the crossbow and the force of the bolt decapitated the man, who
continued to shake for a few seconds and then lie still, crumpled against
the ropes which still held the corpse.

"I could have let you live," Volan said to the headless corpse, "I could
have let you live with the insanity that would have come from losing your
dragon.  Now don't ever say that I'm a cruel man, for, you see, I can be
quite merciful."  Handing the crossbow to one of the watchers, Volan walked
toward his personal building where he could think of what would come next.
The leaders looked at each other and the gross scene before them, grateful
that the three large wyrms were retreating to wherever they had come from
within the forest.

_____________________

>From within his living quarters, Volan studied the map that he had been
using for almost twenty years now.  Twenty years, he thought, he was growing
weary with his search for the artifact.  He had traveled all over the known
world on his quest; from lands where dragons were just a rumor to lands
where human men and women threw fire with their minds, and still he had yet
to find it.

With a black pen he placed a big "X" on Ismene Warren.  There were many "X"s
on the map... all possible leads to the location of the artifact.  He was so
certain that it would be within Ismene.  His list of places was growing
shorter, so he was confident that soon it would be his.

Examining the map a little closer he smiled as he made the decision of which
place he would target next.  He knew that the artifact was last seen in the
hands of the dragonriders, not the landbound, so he would save the landbound
locations for last.  From the looks of it, this next place would prove to be
interesting.  Looking in his reference he searched for the name of his next
target.

"Hmmm... Jasra Warren, it has a certain ring to it."

___________________

nrpg:  I tried to write something about the characters already established,
but with all the new players coming and going, I don't really know who's who
anymore.  Chris, if you could send me an updated biofile, I would really
appreciate it.

For anyone who hasn't heard of Volan yet, he is the leader of a rogue group
of riders that hail from just outside the wastelands.  Who this group is and
what they want is a mystery, as is the illusive "artifact" that they can't
quite seem to get their hands on.  Hopefully impending war will give
everyone an opportunity to get involved with a plotline.

Justin Plank
Peren and Sheava; Jasra Warren
Dr... Devon Ashke-Avron; CMO, USS Discovery






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