Almiron walked into the Dining Hall with David.  He was glad he had 
removed his vest and tunic before sparring with the swordsman, who was as 
good as Almiron suspected he would be.  He had learned a few new things from 
him and the pain of the minor wounds he had gotten was already beginning to 
fade.

   David waved at a couple of girls at a table and went for some stew.  
Almiron noted the two briefly and then spotted an female dragonrider a 
couple of years older than himself.  The leather goods she was wearing had 
seen a lot of wear, he noted.  He debated with himself and then headed to 
her table.  She watched with interest as he approached.

   "Do you mind if I sit here?" he asked.

   "No, not at all," she responded, gesturing to a seat.

   "I am Almiron.  I am leatherworker."

   "The Gods know that Warrenfolk use enough leather to keep armies of 
leatherworkers in business.  I'm certain you will have no problem selling 
wares here."  She said.

   He noticed her watching as he picked the meat out of his food and felt 
self-conscious.  Perhaps he should just eat it and live with the 
consequences.  Then he saw her shrug slightly.  Good-- she was not offended.

   "Would you like to come see my ware?" he asked hopefully.

   The woman smiled, "I might not buy anything, but I'll go see if anything 
strikes my fancy.  Sound all right?"

   "Yes.  That would be fine."  Even if she didn't buy anything tonight, she 
might later.  Or, she might send others his way.  It was certainly worth the 
time.

   She suddenly seemed to realise she hadn't introduced herself.  "I'm Hedda."

   He bowed from in his chair.  "I am most honoured to make your 
acquaintace, Hedda.  You have been dragonrider for some time?"

   "Five years."

   "Ah.  It seems most rewarding relationship."

   The two made small-talk while they both ate.  During the meal, Christalla 
spoke briefly and quietly to Hedda.  Almiron respectfully ignored the 
conversation, but still caught the words "Council of Warrens."  He wondered 
if such a council would be likely to present good sales opportunities or not.

   After the meal, he took Hedda to his apartment and showed her his wares.  
She looked them over carefully, but seemed tired.  He would not make a sale 
to her tonight, he could tell.  In the warren, fatigue was not good for 
sales, because a person asked themself whether they really wanted to go to 
the trouble of negotiating a fair price for this at this time, when they 
would rather be in bed.

   Finally she said "I'm very sorry, but it is late and I am tired.  I need 
to go to bed."

   Almiron nodded.  "I understand.  You had long day.  You have long day 
tomorrow.  Maybe we make deal another day."

   "Yes.  Another day," she replied as she headed through the door.

   Almiron considered for a moment and then gathered up his tehdahkh board 
and pieces and headed for the Dining Hall.

   M'tan was still there, being overmothered by his fiery-haired mate.  He 
waved Almiron over.

   "Almiron, this is M'ressan-- Aleta's brother, wingleader of our Beta wing 
here at Keldarra, and our DragonLady's mate," M'tan introduced the 
dark-haired, green-eyed man who sat across from Aleta.  "M'ressan, this is 
Almiron, a leatherworker who arrived today.  He's been teaching me this 
strategy game, tehdahkh."

   "Good to meet you, Almiron," M'ressan nodded.

   "I am most honoured to meet you, sir," Almiron bowed slightly.  "I... was 
wondering, M'tan, if you would be so inclined to favour me with another game."

   M'tan smiled.  "Sounds good.  Maybe we can teach M'ressan and Aleta."

   They spent a good evening playing.  M'ressan and Aleta neither one had 
M'tan's patience in overcoming the two-dimensional nature of the game, but 
M'tan had little else he could do with his wounds.  The three sat and talked 
of the coming council meeting on the morrow and the refusal of King Jaldor 
to send tithes.  Almiron remained quiet, except for occasional game comment, 
and let them talk, considering how these events would effect his business.

   Almiron noted that M'tan's bandaged hands appeared to be regaining some 
dexterity, though he still occasionally had to reach across the board and 
take pieces from M'tan and move them for the wounded dragonrider.

   As they finished the second game, with Almiron coming back from a bad 
position to win, M'tan's eyes grew momentarily distant.  "I need to see to 
Zareth," he said quietly.

   Aleta and M'ressan were deep in conversation about some new maneuvers 
Aleta was considering trying.  They had borrowed Almiron's tehdahkh pieces, 
as they were captured and removed from the board, and were moving them 
around on the table and discussing the strengths and weaknesses of the 
positions.  For once, the red-head didn't jump at the words of her mate, so 
involved in the conversation was she.

   M'tan glanced at his bandaged hands and then at his mate, seeming 
frustrated that he had to interrupt her to get her assistance.

   "I could help you, if you would rather not interrupt her," Almiron offered.

   M'tan considered and smiled.  "Thanks.  I'll take you up on that."

   The two tehdahkh players stood and Aleta and M'ressan paused in their 
conversation.  "Where are you going?" Aleta asked.

   "I've got to see to Zareth."

   "Oh, okay, just a minute..." she said as she started to stand.

   "No need to get up; Almiron's going to help me," M'tan interrupted.

   She stopped in surprise.  "You're sure?"

   "I would be most happy to help," Almiron assured her.  "And you may use 
my tehdahkh piece and board until we return."

   She and M'ressan glanced down at the table, suddenly realising they had 
liberated half of his pieces, plus a few spare wood carvings he had sitting 
around, for their conversation.  Brother and sister looked at each other and 
laughed.  Almiron smiled his usual small smile, more in his eyes than on his 
lips.

   "Okay, thanks, Almiron," the red-head said.  "We'll try to be done with 
them when you get back."

   "Oh, and be careful, M'tan.  I don't want you getting your dressings 
soiled," she added as Almiron and M'tan headed for the exit to the hall.

   "I won't, dear," said M'tan as he waved.

   The two walked to the field outside the medical building where Zareth 
lay.  He was unable to even fly the short distance to the apartment he and 
M'tan shared.  The grey watched the two approach with doleful eyes.

   "Zareth, this is Almiron," M'tan introduced, out loud for the benefit of 
the younger man.  "Almiron, this is my dragon, Zareth.  He was injured in 
the same wraith combat I was."

   Almiron nodded, shyly touching the dragon.  "I am most honoured to meet 
you, Zareth."

   Almiron spent the next half an hour following M'tan's instructions for 
caring for the dragon in things M'tan could not do, with M'tan relaying 
comments from Zareth to Almiron.  He then excused himself for a brief walk 
to leave rider and dragon alone together for a bit.

   When he returned from his walk, he stood at some distance, watching the 
man and the dragon, waiting patiently.  Zareth's monstrous head lay in 
M'tan's lap and the man was gently stroking the dragon's head with his 
bandaged hands, humming.  Almiron wiped a tear from his eye for the pain the 
dragon suffered and shifted his weight to try to relieve his aching knee.  
M'tan heard the slight sound and looked up.  He nodded at Almiron and moved 
the dragon's head out his lap.  Almiron stepped over and helped the man to 
stand, to prevent him from putting weight on his hands.

   The two walked in silence back to the warren, M'tan's face showing his 
worry for his dragon.  In the dining hall, M'tan lightened his mood slightly 
for Aleta and M'ressan, who quickly gathered up Almiron's pieces and board.  
Almiron bid the three good night and headed for his apartment.

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

   Almiron spent a profitable breakfast in the Dining Hall and played M'tan 
a quick game of tehdahkh, which M'tan won to both their surprise.  He then 
headed back to his apartment to put the finishing touches on the belt for 
S'brogh.

   He was just finishing putting the buckle on when a strange, haunting 
keening began.  Almiron felt the hairs on his neck stand up at the sound.  
The dragons were keening.  He stepped out of his apartment into chaos.  Some 
warrenfolk were moving toward the exits, while others asked what was 
happening of other warrenfolk, still others just stood in confusion.  
Almiron decided to join the exiting contingent.

   The wind from dragons taking wing and gathering around M'ressan and Aleta 
momentarily buffetted Almiron back a step or two.  He stood and watched as 
the air filled with a rainbow of dragons and M'ressan and Aleta called 
orders to a few unjoined warrenfolk.  Soon enough the signal was given and 
the skies were suddenly empty.

   Almiron turned and saw M'tan standing there, concern showing in his face, 
desire to be among the other dragonriders in his stance.

   "Is wraith attack?" Almiron asked him.

   M'tan took a moment to register his presence there before anwering.  "No, 
something worse... looks like a rogue dragonrider may have gotten one of our 
trainees."

   "Rogue dragonrider?" Almiron asked.

   "Mmmm.  A, uh, dragonrider that's rejected the warrens and works against 
them or their goals and purposes.  Doesn't happen too often, but when it 
does..."

   Almiron nodded.  "It would not be easy thing-- to fight one of your own."

   M'tan grimmaced.  "It's bad enough to have to take care of wild dragons 
that start preying on humans.  A joined dragon and rider... I can't 
imagine.... But I still want to be with them."  He shook his head and headed 
out toward the medical building.

   Almiron watched him walk away, debating whether to accompany him or leave 
him be.  No, it would be best to leave him.  He had Zareth, after all.

   He found a place out of the way, pulled out his woodcarving knife and a 
small piece of wood and began carving, wondering what would come of all 
these crises happening at once.

   <Hehrahn, go with all, especially that trainee, whoever he or she is,> he 
thought, and then forced himself to concentrate on the carving.  A few 
moments later, he saw a girl, perhaps a year younger than himself, standing 
hugging herself and watching the skies where the dragons had disappeared.  
Tears stained her face.  She was not wearing the standard leather clothes of 
the warren.  Landbound.  He debated for a moment, then put his things away, 
stood and went to her.

   "Are you all right?" he asked quietly.

   She jumped and then turned to him.  "Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't know there 
was anyone here."

   "There is nothing to apologise for, lady."

   "Are... are you one of the dragonriders from here?"

   "No, I am leatherworker, just here for while."

   "Then you probably don't know Michel..."

   "I have not had the pleasure," he replied.

   "I... he's my brother... one of the new trainees... They say he's been 
caught by some... rogue dragonrider.  I don't understand.  They say they 
can't tell me more yet... He's... my only family... He can't be hurt, he 
can't be..." her voice trailed off in a sob.

   He touched her shoulder comfortingly.  "Come.  There is no reason to 
worry.  He will be okay.  Half of warren is rescuing him, after all."

   "I suppose you're right.  It feels good to have someone to talk to, at 
least."

   He smiled reassuringly.  "I am good listener.  Come sit.  We will watch 
together.  You can talk and I will listen and work on carving."

   She followed him to the warren wall he had been sitting against earlier.  
He helped her down and sat beside her pulling out the wood and knife and 
continued carving while she talked, the two of them watching the sky for 
returning dragons.

Respectfully submitted,
 Lynette R. F. Cowper
  Almiron

[NRPG: Chris C., hope I did Carie's reaction to the crisis okay.  I thought 
it would be nice to get her into play.]

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 * Lynette R. F. Cowper       *     Official INWO NetRep & Goddess    *
 * lcowper@io.com             *        Circle of Janus Secretary      *
 * lcowper@indy.net           *   VP of P.U.R.P.L.E. (People United   *
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 *     The INWO rulings I make are official.  All other opinions,     *
 *  discussions, deck ideas, card ideas, political beliefs, etc. are  *
 *  my own and not those of Steve Jackson Games, the Circle of Janus, *
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