[Day 13, a little while before the party]

D'tagnan left Bonsai in the Dragonhealer's examining room to sleep off the
exhaustion that accompanies the use of his magical healing abilities.  He
carried the small bundle that was his costume for the party under one arm as
he looked around, hoping for a ride back up to the apartment where he'd stowed
his stuff.  

Seeing the older man wandering aimlessly, a boy dressed as a rider approached
him.  "Can I help you with anything?" he asked.

D'tagnan looked down at the boy, noticing his riding clothes.  "Maybe.  I'm
D'tagnan, a healer from Geode, visiting here on my way to Telnor, in those new
Dragonlands.  I'm staying in an apartment up there," the healer responded,
gesturing, "but my dragon has worn himself out in healing.  I need to get up
there to get cleaned up and changed for the party...but Bonsai is too tired to
make the trip, poor guy."

"I'm Ojean.  My dragon Teewith and I can take you up there!" replied the young
blond.

<tag Barb ^… anything interesting happen on the trip up and back? What does he
do while D'tagnan is changing?>

*******************

T'drim was bedecked in the suit and cape of his costume for the party.  He'd
combed and cleaned and scrubbed and perfumed, but he just had a few more
things to do in the lab before he went....

Leaning over a beaker of glass that contained a very toxic chemical, he added
a small measure of powder from a small envelope.  The mostly translucent
liquid in the beaker fizzed and changed from a oily brown color to a viscous
light green sludge.  Lighting a small flame under it, Tad sat down on a bench
to watch it cook down.  

Sitting there watching, his hand strayed to the two small stoppered vials
slipped into the cuff of one of his sleeves.  Tonight would be the beginning
of a new life.  One where that self-absorbed bully would learn some
humility...one where Tad could stand tall and look him in the eye.

The young chemist jumped at a sound from the doorway.  Looking up he noticed a
man in the doorway.  At first Tad thought that it was G'ret, come to punish
him for his daydreams, but then the person stepped into the light.  His work
in science had taught T'drim attention to detail, and it was this ability that
now told him that this was no man standing in front of him.  It took him a few
moments to realize, but the seemingly muscle-bound man with the long mustaches
standing in front of him was Evlan.

Seeing the recognition in his eyes, she asked, "What do you think?  Will it
fool my husband?"

"It should," the young man responded briskly.  "You look kinda funny, though. 
Come here."

The woman did as she was directed.  Tad stood up, reached into a jar behind
him, and pulled out some coarse powder, taking some grease out of another jar
with his other hand. Evlan could see his initial hesitancy in touching her,
but he overcame it and started to rub both over the woman's face. 

"You had the mustaches but no other facial hair."

Evlan nodded, touched by his help.  "Do you have a mirror?"

The young man shook his head.  "Just as good."  Positioning her in front of a
bowl of water, he added a pinch of grist gleaned from a mortar near at hand. 
The water bubbled for a few seconds before freezing completely over.

Looking into the impromptu mirror formed seemingly by magic, Evlan gasped. 
The effect Tad had achieved with the shiny grease and the powder just matched
the rest of her hair.  

"Thank you!" she said to him.  "Now we need to get going.  The party is just
about to start!" 

T'drim nodded.  He reached over and picked up his mask, letting out a deep
breath. *Remember,* he told himself, sliding the golden visage of a lion into
place, *in a mask you can be anyone.*

***************************

[At the dance, a little bit after Ythfaru's Proclamation]

D'tagnan slipped along the wall toward the punch bowl, trying to avoid running
into any of the dancers.  The wild, gyrating music was bringing out the
excitement of a hatching celebration, and the dancers were out in full force. 
As he reached the punch bowl he noticed a woman working her way through the
crowd, dressed flowing green and silver robes and a mask with matching colors.
 He picked up a second glass of punch and started over to offer it to the
lovely woman.  A man in a stylish suit and gold mask reached her before he
managed to cross half the distance.  

The healer retreated back to the wall, where he lowered the face mask of his
mint-green costume just enough to allow access to his mouth.  Quickly downing
the first glass of punch, he scanned the crowd for another available partner.

<tag ^… anyone who wants to dance with Danno, feel free.  He's dressed in what
would be surgical scrubs in our world. <g>>

******************************** 

Gliding through the hall, standing tall, moved a man that almost no one had
ever seen before.  Only three people in the crowd knew who he was, the tailor,
his wife, and Evlan, and they weren't telling.  They all had the same thought.
 *Let this be his night!*

The young man in question was not quite as sure of himself as he seemed, but
he shoved his fears into the back of his head, paying them no mind.  *I can be
anyone, behind this golden mask,* he chanted to himself silently.  His
crimson-lined cape twirling behind him, he approached the first available lady
he saw.  She looked magnificent, dressed in flowing green and silver.

"Excuse me, m'lady!"  he said from behind her.  "May I have this dance?"

"Well..." she started, glancing over his shoulder wistfully at Key across the
room.  "...sure."

The two of them slipped out onto the floor amidst the other dancers and soon
lost themselves in the steps and maneuvers of the dance.  

All too soon it was over, and his partner slipped away with a whispered "Thank
you". 

<tag John ^… what did Tara think of T'drim?>

**************************

[Shortly after]

T'drim was standing by the food tables, wolfing down smoked salmon on
crackers.  He'd headed this way after his dance with that goddess...and the
smell of food reminded him that he'd eaten only sporadically in the last
couple of days.  Suddenly he caught a hint of the voice he'd been waiting all
night to hear.  The voice he would never forget.  The voice that had caused
him so much trouble.  And it was coming towards him.  

A young man in the attire of a dandy strode over, obviously nervous.  *What
would get him so worked up?* Tad wondered to himself.  He'd always seemed to
cocky and full of himself.  He pretended not to notice as G'ret pulled up next
to him and started to fill a small plate with snacks.  

Leaving the plate, G'ret walked across the hall as if in a daze.  Seizing his
opportunity Tad slipped one of the vials out of his sleeve and started
sprinkling the contents on the plate of food that the bane of his existence
had left behind.  Slipping away from the table, the young chemist leaned
against the wall where he could watch.

T'drim followed his gaze and spotted what had undoubtedly caused this change
in his arch-enemy.  A beautiful girl was leaning against the wall, moving
around as if her shoes pained her.  The girl also noticed G'ret and slipped
back into the crowd.  His shoulders slumping slightly, the disappointed bully
started to turn back to the table.

A man stepped out of the kitchens bearing a tray.  Walking to the food table,
he lowered the tray, which was laden with additional goodies.  G'ret's plate
was right in his way.  The man looked left and right to make sure that no one
was watching.  T'drim pretended to be studying his fingernails.  The waiter
quickly snatched up the plate and replaced it with the platter of hors
d'oeuvres.  The man slipped back into the kitchen, emptying the plate into his
mouth as he went.

*Oh, great!* Tad groaned, *now I have to set it up all over again....* 
Slipping back to the tables, he arrived at exactly the same time as his enemy.
 Forcing himself to look the boy in the eye, he reminded himself for the
thousandth time that night that he wasn't T'drim.  He could be anyone.  Behind
a mask, he could be courageous.  

Seeing that G'ret had stopped by the beverage table on the way back, Tad
pretended to be engrossed in the sardines, leaning over the glass that the
bully had set down.  The alchemist managed to empty his second vial into the
punch just before the other boy, obviously disappointed over having lost his
girl, snarled at him to move.  Doing as he was told, T'drim melted back into
the crowd, turning around only to watch G'ret pick up his drink and take a
long sip.

**************************

[Filio]

It had been an exciting day.  One that had changed his life.  It had taken the
boy a little while to realize that Joining had precluded him from becoming a
priest, and the shock had sent him to his bed.  After a short nap and much
prayer, he had realized that his god had given him a great opportunity.  He
had the chance to help these people abandon their wicked ways.  He may not be
a priest, but he could still do his god's work.

Even now those heathens were having one of their sinful revels.  Dancing and
drinking...vices of the Dark One!  But he would show them the eternal
forgiveness which could be theirs and lead them out of their prison of
debauchery.  

Filio slipped out of his small cubicle in the Hatchling Barracks, leaving
Socorro asleep on his nest. He headed past the entrance to the den of sin
where everyone else was gathered.  When he had arrived earlier in the day with
his family, they had all been shown around.  If he remembered correctly, there
should be a secondary entrance to the kitchens around here somewhere....

Spotting it, he entered.  One of the kitchen workers noticed him immediately,
recognizing him from the hatching earlier in the day, and asked if there was
anything she could get for him.  He requested something to eat, hoping for
something other than the foods of sin which were right then being enjoyed in
the adjoining room.  

She informed him that as he was a guest of honor at the night's feast, he
could take whatever he liked.  The boy gathered up a small loaf of bread of
the kind they were using to make finger-sandwiches, a fillet of salmon that
had not yet been made into spread for crackers, and a handful of vegetable
pieces onto a plate.  He thanked the woman and headed out the way he'd come
in.

Stepping back outside, Filio almost walked right into a fight.  A young man in
a hat with a large plume was about to pummel a younger boy, whom Filio
recognized as one of the other boys at the hatching.

Before he could intervene, a large shadow fell over the two....

*****************************

[Selene] 

<snip from KK's post>

Selene hunkered down in the shadows, her mud-covered hide blending in better
with the darkness than her bright yellow coloring. She was growing impatient,
fidgeting while she waited for the opportunity to pilfer some food to replace
what had been taken practically right out of her mouth earlier. 

Suddenly her nostrils flared, breathing in the delicious scent that wafted her
way on the gentle sea breeze. She got to her feet to investigate its source,
following her snout until her target at last came into view. A human had never
smelled quite this appetizing before. She aproached the scuffling young men,
her tongue lolling from her mouth. 

<end snip>

The tantalizing smell that made Selene's snout twitch was her beloved
molasses, which she'd first discovered on a bowl of her rider's oatmeal one
glorious morning.  

As she lumbered forward, one of the humans cried out and fled.  *Let him run,*
she thought, scenting the air.  *The good one is right here!*  With that, she
reached out and picked up G'ret in her mouth by the seat of his pants and
carried him off.

<Tag KK and Dana {EG}>

*************************

Respectfully submitted, 

David Hoover

T'drim ^… Jasra Warren
D'tagnan ^… Jasra Warren (at the moment)
Admin/J'adoube ^… Marrid/Xylian Warrens
Forrellyn & Pekin ^… Telnor Warren
Gael & Melantha ^… Venture Warren

Admin/John Keats ^… IN Seattle
World Admin ^… Thimhallan



YOU NEED TO BELIEVE IN THINGS THAT AREN'T TRUE. HOW ELSE  CAN THEY *BECOME*?  
-Death, "Hogfather" by Terry Pratchett

"I play the game for the game's own sake."
                   -Sherlock Holmes

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