NRPG: Susan, I'm just suggesting a minor modification to your post.  The Kale-Barr
still had one operable wagon w/ goods.  Guaranteed they won't just role over dead. :)

RPG:

     Mukale found himself recovering rapidly under the ministrations of the Keldarra
healing staff.  He found himself visited at one time or the other by a number of
members of the warren, as well as his entire family.  Rikale told him that there wasn't
anything left of the three wagons that the wraiths had destroyed, but that he and
Tabarr were going to buy a team of horses and start trading with the last wagon. 
They should do well, his father explained, freighting goods between Seign, Keldarra,
and some of the smaller nearby villages.  Meanwhile, the rest of the family had been
offered space at the warren by the Dragonlady herself, for as long as they needed to
recover.  Although he hated putting them further in dept to the dragonriders, Rikale
admitted that they didn't have much choice in the matter.  At least not until they could
afford to build more wagons.

     Mukale was able to leave the medical center after a week and a half, much to
his own surprise.  He had seen folks with wraith burns once or twice before, and the
ugly lacerations usually took months to heal, and then always with terrible scarring. 
Mukale was up and under two weeks, and although he carried scars, they were hardly
more than what one might get from a mild burn.  Obviously, having to deal with the
serious injuries more often, the warrenfolk had learned more efficient treatments. 
Once he was released from the medical center, Mukale spent most of the time in the
lower caverns with his family.  But he couldn't help but be drawn away by the
fascinating activities of the warrenfolk.

     Like Brianna, the girl who was teaching some of the younger kids tumbling and
acrobatics.  In a way, Mukale almost thought it might be fun to learn some of the
techniques.  But it wouldn't be that useful a skill as a trader, an occupation he planned
to return to when the Kale-Barr expanded again.

     Then there was Sky, they pretty little blue-eyed girl that one of the dragonriders
had rescued from Traveler's Rest, down in the village.  She was always trying to help
out in the warren kitchens, and had come to the medical center a few times to try and
cheer him up.  But since his release, he had come time know her to be somewhat of a
tease, although she was a knowledgeable source of the goings on in the lower
caverns.

     One of the dragonriders, Amiron, seemed to be well respected by many of the
warren people, but much disliked by a few others.  Mukale couldn't understand why
they would despise the dragonrider, who seemed friendly and always willing to help
others out.

     And the dragons!  Always coming and going, a spectrum of colors, carrying
riders to places far away, and back again.  Mukale was fascinated by the colorful
beasts, even though such mighty creatures were far beyond a lowly trader boy's
knowledge.  Oh, the Dragonlady had made a few none to subtle remarks about the
possibility of him standing on the hatching ground when the current clutch of dragon
eggs hatched, but he knew that she was only trying to cheer him up.

     The fact was, in spite of all the activity around the warren, he had become a
little depressed in the month that he'd been at the warren.  In part, it was because he
couldn't be with father and uncle as they trading with the Kale-Barr's last wagon.  But
only in part.  Perhaps more important was the sense of failure he had.  He had been
unable to help in the defense of the caravan during the wraith attack without getting
himself hurt.  That was all he was: a little child who couldn't be trusted with
flamethrower.  Even his younger cousins--girls darn it--had done better than he.  It
was disgusting.  It was . . .

     A dozen dragons trumpeted.  Mukale looked up from the rocks on which he sat
to ponder his uselessness after lunch.  This was more excitement that he had seen
since he had been here.  Where there wraiths attacking?  The mystery didn't last for
long.  After a few moments, the loud bugling of the dragons subsided enough for
Mukale to here the shouts of joy.  "The eggs!  They're hatching!"

     Despite his protests of inadequacy to be a candidate for the dragons hatchlings, 
Mukale was still intensely interested in the outcome of the hatching.  One of the lads
of his aquintence, Bandin, was standing on the sand today.  Although Bandin was only
fifteen, Mukale realized he was a level headed boy who would have made a good
trader, and who was certain to become a dragonrider.

     Before the last echos of the dragon's alarm had died, Mukale was running to
the ground entrance to the Hatching Cavern.  So was every other dragonless person
in the warren.  And more dragons than Mukale thought existed were flocking to the
aerial entrance to the big cave.

     Soon, hundreds of people sat on the terraced ledges overlooking the sand of
the Hatching Cavern.  The excited din of the crowd was almost as loud as the
exhilarated trumpeting of the dragons that occupied the higher ledges.  Yet for all the
throng, the vast cavern was sufficiently large that noone felt particularly crowded. 
Mukale was able to find a space on the very front row, and he gave Bandin a cheery
wave as he came onto the hot sand with the other candidates.

     Then, all at once, each of the fifteen eggs began hatching.  Dragons of all hues
and colors tumbled to the sand, each attempting to clamber over the others and
flapping undeveloped wings vainly in an attempt to find the candidate that was its
match.  Mukale found himself holding his breath as one brown and gold hatchling
stumbled about, whimpering for attention, and bumped into Bandin, who was looking
toward a little red and black dragonette.  Bandin turned to right the little dragon, who
had fallen face first into the sand, and froze as he encountered the adoring eyes of
the dragon.  "His . . . his name is Kalron!"  Mukale released his breath with a sigh as
the cavern errupted in cheers.   Bandin was lucky to have grown up in the weir. He
thought it was a propitious sign that his friend had joined first.  He promised himself
that it meant that his da would soon ask him to join the caravan again, despite his
failure against the wraiths.

     More joinings occured rapidly.  As each dragon joined with its rider, the
audience seemed to scream louder.  But when the queen hatchling joined--Mukale
couldn't quite see which of the several queen candidates had won--all the applause
that had gone before was swept away before a tumult of jubilation and dragon roars
that almost overwealmed the young trader.

     Finally, the sound level began to return to something closer to normal.  Excited
conversations began between the people around Mukale as they discussed the
hatching, and the young riders who had joined with the new dragons.  Only one small
dragon remained on the sand, looking at first one of the remaining dozen candidates,
and then another, not seeming to find what he was looking for among any of the lads
or lasses that remained.  Mukale watched as it worked its way through the last
candidates, coming closer to his side of the sandy hatching ground.

     The dragonette, charcoal grey with broad maroon stripes across his back,
passed the last lad on the hatching sand with nary a glance, and tottered a few last
steps on the sand before coming to a stop just below Mukale.  The trader's son
looked down at the small dragon in suprise.  "I'm not a candidate!"

     The crowd around Mukale had quieted as the hatchling had approached. 
Mukale might not know what was happening, but they did.  So did Christalla, the
Dragonlady.  "He wants *you*, lad." she called clearly.

     Mukale glanced up to see the Queen rider sitting at her place on the opposite
side of the Hatching Cavern.  She stared back at him with an easy grin; a grin that
was matched by Queenrider Evelle beside her.  "Me?"

     "You!"

     Mukale looked down at the little dragon who was kreeling softly.  As he met the
dragon's eyes, the soft sound became a happy croon.  A rush of emotion swept
throught Mukale as he _joined_ with the young dragon.  "His name is Tarranx!"

Ecstaticly Submitted,

Mukale and Tarranx

::=::=::=::=::=::=::=::=::=::=::=::=::=::=::=::=::=::=::=::=::=::
::=::=::      http://www.cs.uoregon.edu/~meckardt/       ::=::=::
::=::=::         [madmike@gladstone.uoregon.edu]         ::=::=::
::=::=::            [meckardt@cs.uoregon.edu]            ::=::=::
::=::=::=::=::=::=::=::=::=::=::=::=::=::=::=::=::=::=::=::=::=::


NRPG: There, that should hold Mukale until everyone else has had a chance to post
on the hatching :)


                Mike Eckardt
                 (He's mad.  Mad!  MAD I say!!!)
                 (GE/CS d-@ s:+ a C++++ S P+ L E W++ N++ o? K- w O M-- V-- 
                  PS PE Y PGP- t(*) 5 X- R tv@ b+++ DI+/- D++ G E++>++ h r y?)