NRPG:  Joint post with Mia Sherman and Joan Fisher.

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

        The young woman was obviously new to the Warren and seemed confused, 
so the man ceased splitting firewood momentarily.  "Can I help you with 
something?" he inquired.  "You look a little lost."

        Kendra Dyer turned slightly, startled, but she smiled at the helpful 
stranger.  "Oh!  Hullo.   I was looking for my brother, Kedri- um, K'drik. I 
understand he lives here now.  Can you please tell me where to find him?"

        Leaning his axe against the block, he scratched his head and 
thought.  "K'drik . . . . K'drik . . . . oh, yeah.  He just joined recently, 
I think.   Check the trainee barracks -- ask for M'ressan.  He's in charge 
of the trainees."

        "Barracks?" she asked.  She knew that the dragonriders were 
responsible for the defense of the lands, but she hadn't quite realized that 
they styled themselves a military force.  It made sense, come to think of 
it.

        "Over there.  That low building that sticks out from the cliff base. 
  The trainee yard's on the other side of that."

        Kendra thanked her benefactor with a cheery smile and a wave and 
searched in the direction indicated.  She found no one in the barracks, but 
from the yard beyond she could hear a woman's voice shouting impatient 
directives. She rounded the corner and encountered an elderly rider
training a group of novices.

        "Tighten that strap!" the woman yelled, stabbing the air with her 
cane for emphasis.  "That is no way to harness a dragon!"

        From somewhere in the back of the class, someone called plaintively. 
  "But Matha, M'ressan said that..."  The protest trailed off suddenly at a 
sharp look from the old trainer.  Another young rider chuckled.

        Matha wheeled at the sound.  "You!  You think this is funny?"

        "Nnn- no, ma'am!"  The response was so panicked that yet another 
trainee could not help but snicker, but a glare directed at the new offender 
brought silence.

        "Now, that is more like it," Matha said once order had been 
restored.  "You two, I take it you like kitchen detail?"

        Kendra chose that moment to approach.  "Pardon the interruption, 
Madam.  Is M'ressan here?"

        "M'ressan?" Matha turned just in time to not yell at the girl.  "He 
should be in his office," she said, frowning as she overheard more murmurs 
from the trainees.

        "Madam?"  "Crazy old bat, more like . . ."  "Shh!  She's looking at 
you!"

        Kendra cleared her throat gently.  "Um, yes... they said to ask for 
him. But M'ressan isn't really the one I'm looking for.  I'm just hoping to 
find my brother.  He's the one with the pretty orange dragon."

        Matha nodded sharply.  "Well, then who is this brother? Not one of 
these good-for-nothings, I hope?" she asked, a broad sweep of her cane 
encompassing the dusty and grumbling trainees.  Not a few ducked 
instinctively.

        Kendra peered around, but soon gave up, dejected. "I don't see them, 
and Jacinth is hard to miss. I suppose they're not here."

        "Orange dragon?"  Matha murmured thoughtfully.  *Zeiner- where is 
he?*

        Zeiner replied, *Jacinth?  How would I know?  Never mind.  I'll 
check.*

        "Just a moment," Matha said to Kendra.  "Maybe I can help you."

        *HEY!  Alanth says to check with D'neor.  Now let me sleep would 
ya!*

        *WHAT?*  Matha thought, then schooled her features.  "Give me a 
moment, I think I can help you."

        Kendra shifted uncomfortably. "I didn't mean to delay your class..."

        "Don't worry, we will just make it up later.  I am happy to help 
such a polite young lady."  There was a choked sound of disbelief, followed 
by more snickering.  Matha glared at the trainees.  "You are dismissed!  I 
was at the end of my patience with you lot today anyhow.  We will meet here 
at dawn tomorrow.  You all know when that is?  And don't be late!  We will
be practicing some of the more intricate aerial maneuvers."

        More murmuring.  "Great.  We'll be half-asleep and falling off our 
dragons..."

        *Might knock some sense into ya,* Zeiner chirped helpfully.

        *Should I tell my rider that, Zeiner?*

        As the class began to disperse, Matha turned to the girl, "I think I 
know where to look for him.  Please come with me."

        Matha headed to the most likely place to find M'ressan. Of course he 
wasn't there.  Blazes!  What good was he?!  The only outward sign she gave 
was a harrumph, and she seemed to hesitate for a moment.

        "Well, I should have known.  Okay dear, there is nothing left but to 
grab the 'bull by the horns', as they say."  Against her better judgment she 
headed for the Warren Lord's office.  He had just better be there.  Not to 
mention on his /best/ behavior.  She rapped the door twice with her cane.

        From inside the office came an annoyed shout.  "GO AWAY!  I'm busy!"

        "Well get unbusy!" Matha replied, rapping the door again.

        "WHAT?"  The bellow sounded even more irritated than before, and
the door remained closed.

        Matha threw open the door and stormed in.  "Where is MY trainee?"

        A huge, unkempt man glared up at the intrusion from his seat behind 
an untidy desk, shirt half unlaced and booted feet propped carelessly atop 
the papers on the desk.  "Excuse me, Matha?  Did I say you could come in?  I 
don't THINK so-- now be a good girl and go bother someone else!"

        "D'neor!  Be polite!" Matha admonished the man, punctuating her 
words with a sharp slap of her cane against the doorframe.  Shaking her 
head, she sniffed.  "Didn't your mother teach you anything?  We have a 
visitor.  She is looking for her brother."  Matha looked back at Kendra,
"Come here child, he wont bite."

        Kendra walked forward, glancing around the office.  "Um, hullo, 
sir."

        "You can say it as many times as you want to," he replied, taking a 
deep drink from his mug and wiping the back of his hand across his mouth.  
"But it doesn't change a damn thing.  It's not /my/ job to keep track of the 
trainees, it's yours."  D'neor snorted.  "You're in my office, in my
Warren.  I'll be rude to you if I want to be.  Can't someone else help the 
girl?  I'm very very /busy/."

        Kendra looked around, trying to imagine what the large dusky man was 
busy doing.

        D'neor continued, building momentum.  "...and if I had any help 
around here," he added, "I wouldn't be as busy.  ARDEN!"  he bellowed.  He 
glanced back at the old trainer, annoyed.  "Are you still here?  Go on, I'm 
busy.  Matha--"

        "I can only keep track of the trainees I know about... he has never
shown up for training!"  Matha insisted.

        "As if you'd know,"  D'neor mumbled snidely.  "You can't even 
remember what your own dragon looks like..."

        "I heard that!"  Matha said hotly.  "I am not senile!  I would 
remember an orange dragon.  There is no dragon like that in the warren."

        "Actually, there are several orange dragons in the Warren," D'neor 
shot back, "And I wouldn't be surprised if you were blind as well as senile. 
  So you can't find your trainee.  That's your problem, not mine.  The only 
reason I gave you permission train those children at all is because I 
*thought*," he said acidly, "That it would give you something else to do 
besides annoying me.  Ask M'ressan about whomever you're missing, and tell 
K'drik to quit with this avoidance crap and get in here.  I've got more 
stuff for him to do."  He settled back in his seat and took another slow 
pull from his mug.

        "Would you pay attention!"  Matha demanded.

        "I am paying attention to you," D'neor replied evenly, "And I'm 
being very patient.  You have a truant trainee that you fail to find 
anywhere in the Warren.  M'ressan had them all, so obviously you must have 
lost him when you took over.  Ask M'ressan to help.  I'm busy."

        "More stuff for K'drik to do," Kendra repeated thoughtfully, then a 
little louder,  "You know my brother?"

        D'neor eyed the girl speculatively and took his feet off the desk, 
slowly sitting up in his chair.  "What?"

        Matha was still sputtering indignantly over D'neor's previous 
comment.  "Annoying *you!* I did /not/ lose one!  M'ressan isn't here!  So 
do your job and find him!"

        "He's probably avoiding you, and I don't blame him," D'neor told 
Matha, though his attention remained focused on the girl.  "I'm waiting, 
girl."

        "K'drik came to visit us," she said calmly and evenly, though she 
looked worried.  "He said he was on his way somewhere, so he couldn't stay 
long.  That was before the quarrel with our parents, even.  He left in a 
hurry, after that.  But I assumed he'd have done his errand and come back 
here... you mean he's not back yet?"

        Matha looked from one to the other, glaring at D'neor.

        "You," D'neor said, jabbing a finger at the girl, "Sit down. Matha,  
I don't care if you stay or go, but if you don't shut the hell up I'll set 
'Vari on you.  Now.  Girl.  From the beginning, please.  Your name is . . . 
?"

        "Kendra Dyer, from Farmoor, Sir."

        Matha plunked down in a chair next to the girl.  There was no way 
she was going to leave her alone with /him/.

        D'neor nodded, glancing momentarily at the old woman.  "I see.  
Stand up, girl."

        Kendra stood nervously, but said nothing.

        "Turn around."

        "I don't understand what this has to do with anything," Kendra 
murmured, but she turned as directed.

        D'neor smiled thinly, and lifted his mug to his lips.  "It could be 
just another way for me to abuse my power," he said, watching her over the 
rim of the cup.  "Come over here and hold out your hands."

        Eyes narrowing slightly, Kendra approached.

        *GRRR* Matha fumed.  *Zeiner, I am going club him one of these 
days.*

        *That would not be your brightest move,* Zeiner replied.

        "Hands, girl?" Setting his mug down, D'neor opened his own hand and 
held it out, frowning.  "I haven't got all day."

        "You never answered me when I asked if Ked had returned or not,"  
Kendra observed as she extended her hands for inspection.

        D'neor grabbed one of her hands and turned it over, running his 
thumb across her palm.  "I'm the Warrenlord, I ask the questions.  It's 
another one of the privileges I have.  You make that dress?"

        Flinching slightly, she replied, "Ked made this one, actually.  It 
was a present for my birthday.  I *do* make most of my own clothing, 
though."

        D'neor made a noncommittal noise, and abruptly released her hand. 
"You may sit.  How old are you, girl?"

        "Seventeen next winter.   Sir," she added belatedly.

        "I see," he nodded, and finished off the contents of his mug.  
"Well, I don't have any serious problems with you, girl.  You may stay."  
Belatedly, D'neor added, "That is, if you'd like to.  Would you like to stay 
in the Warren?  You could be a dragonrider, girl . . . . "

        "A dragonrider?" her breath caught, eyes lighting up hopefully.  
Then a moment later, "But the Searchers that came through Farmoor two years 
ago said I didn't have the affinity...  whatever that means."

        "Affinity, my flaming ass," D'neor snorted.  "You don't need 
affinity to be a dragonrider.  I don't have any god-forsaken affinity, and 
I'm the Warrenlord!"

        "Stop swearing at the girl!" Matha demanded.

        "MATHA!" D'neor yelled, flinging his mug aside as he surged up out 
of his chair.  With a crash, the mug hit the wall and shattered.  "One more 
word out of you and I'll--!  Wraithspawn!"

        *Would you /shut up/?* Zeiner implored Matha.  *Shatavari is giving 
me very unpleasant looks*

        "You pay attention, woman.  You should be interested in this girl-- 
you may be training her some day, so help us all."  Still glaring at the old 
woman, D'neor sat back down slowly.  "I told you before.  If you want to 
talk, you have to leave."

        Matha glared silently.

        "Warren - *Lord*?" Kendra blinked.  "Oh!  You're...  oh!"  Kendra 
muttered something under her breath, looking surprised and a bit dazed.  "So 
that means your dragon is the Queen dragon, Sir?"

        "What?" he asked, snapping his attention back to the girl who 
claimed to be K'drik's sister.  "Yeah, the bitch.  So, you want to stay?"

        Kendra looked startled. "Well, I suppose so... I'm not really 
anxious to go home, the way mother and father are carrying on... and it 
*would* be nice to stay here with Ked... *if* anyone ever tells me where he 
is..."

        "Lovely," D'neor said, forcing a smile.  "Now you're a Candidate, 
and that means you're mine."  He seemed to relish the worlds, rolling them 
over on his tongue before letting them out.  "You are subject to my rules 
and my authority, and you do not cross me or question the decisions that I 
make.  You are also under my protection.  No one can make you leave this 
Warren against your will-- except me.  Is that clear?"

        "Clear, Sir."

        D'neor nodded sharply.  "You can't stay with K'drik, you know.  He's 
a dragonrider, and you're not.  Matha will show you where the Candidate's 
Barracks are-- but not now."

        Kendra nodded expectantly. "Just so long as he's okay and I get to 
see him now and then," she said meaningfully.

        D'neor made a noise halfway between a laugh and a snort.  "What?  
You think I don't take care of my riders?  Ignore whatever Matha may have 
told you, girl.  You know how elderly people get."

        Matha was livid.  Her cane cracked loudly against her chair, but her 
mouth never opened.

        D'neor laughed, and waggled a finger at her.  "I commend your 
reserve, old woman.  You're learning quickly."

        "I'm certain you're a capable caretaker, Sir," Kendra said 
carefully. "...but it hasn't escaped me that the two of you began this 
exchange by accusing one another of misplacing my brother!  Am I to 
understand neither of you knows where he is?"

        Matha glances at the girl in surprise, smiling.

        "Is he a /child/," D'neor said in mock indignance, "That he needs to 
be kept track of?  Is he not old enough to go off and sulk without needing 
to tell someone beforehand?"  D'neor held up a hand before she could retort. 
"He's probably off being angry somewhere, although why he didn't bring back 
the reply before deciding to play this silly little avoidance game is beyond 
me.  I'm not surprised, however, if Matha can't find him."

        Kendra opened her mouth, then closed it. A moment later, she tried 
again. "If you please, sir, he just got *disowned* scarcely three days ago.  
You may have noticed my brother is of a rather melancholy temperament. At 
best, I thought he could use someone to comfort him. At worst..."

        "At worst, what?  Suicide?  Don't be stupid, girl. Dragonriders 
don't suicide."

        Kendra breathed out, hard.  "No, but sometimes they go for long 
walks.  And then they aren't dragonriders anymore.  That what Father told 
him to go do."

        Matha was clearly shocked and offended at the very idea.  D'neor's 
expression betrayed no emotion, but he gestured impatiently for Kendra to 
continue.

        "I didn't hear the fight - I was busy with Jacinth, at the time... 
but I eavesdropped on Mother and Father talking about it, after Ked left.  
Good riddance to him, they seemed to think," she said, fuming.  "Their own 
son! How could they?"

        D'neor paused for a moment, and shut his mouth.  Leaning back in his 
chair, he looked at his hands silently for a moment, and slowly, absently, 
began twisting his ring.  "I see.  Well.  I was going to say--"  He paused 
again, shook his head slightly, and continued.  "I was going to
say that if he isn't here, he may have gone to another Warren.  He had a 
friend that transferred to -- another Warren.  Ada.  He doesn't need any 
comfort from me."  He murmured thoughtfully.  "She went somewhere, at any 
rate.  Matha-- where did she go?"  Not looking at either woman, D'neor 
pushed himself out of his chair and stood before a tall cabinet, his back to 
them.

        Matha had a puzzled look on her face.  Why would he ask her? She had 
just gotten back.

        "Well?" he snapped over his shoulder.  "I asked you a question, 
woman-- you may speak long enough to answer it."

        *Zeiner!* Matha thought frantically.  *Where is she!?  Someone has 
to know!*

        *Ask M'ressan's dragon.  M'ressan would know.*

        *Telnor,*  Matha heard a voice like Alanth's answer her.

        "She went to Telnor."  What in tarnation was going on?  Matha 
thought she had seen it all, but this side of D'neor was new to her.

        "Took you long enough," D'neor said.  "Girl-- how'd you get here?"

        "Tagged along with merchants," Kendra said.

        "Brave of you.  You pass a town called Wolf's Crossing?"

        "I think so," she said uncertainly.

        D'neor grunted, and nodded once.  "How long did you travel?"

        "Two and a half, almost three, days."

        Again, he made a noncommittal noise.  "Can you write?"

        "Yes, and I can keep track of figures and sums too," she said,
fighting a wave of annoyance that he was trying to sidetrack her concerns.

        "Well then, why don't you write him a letter," D'neor said 
flippantly. "I'll have someone take it to Telnor for you.  He's not supposed 
to be there, but considering the circumstances, I don't think anyone will 
mind too much."

        Kendra leveled her gaze at him.  "So.  First he's an overlooked 
trainee, then he's off sulking.  Now he might or might not be at some other 
warren visiting some person or other.  In short, no one knows, and all of 
this is guesswork," she declared flatly.

        D'neor laughed and shook his head.  "Girl, if your brother had only 
half the spine you do . . . . still.  May I remind you, girl, that you are 
now a member of my Warren, where I make the decisions.  If I say that you 
will write him a letter to be delivered to Telnor, then you will write it. 
After all," D'neor continued, fiddling with the cabinet's clasp, "If his 
beloved sister asks him to come back, he will.  Or are you scared he won't?"

        "I'm scared," Kendra replied, voice wavering only slightly, "That 
he's in no condition to receive it.  But hopefully I'm worrying over 
nothing," she added, sounding unconvinced.

        Matha put a comforting hand on Kendra's shoulder.  "Don't worry.  
He'll be fine, you'll see."  To blazes with not talking, the girl was nearly 
in tears!

        With a twitch, D'neor broke the clasp and stepped back as the 
cabinet's doors swung open.  "You got a younger sibling, girl?  They ever 
disappear before?"

        Kendra squeezed Matha's hand gratefully as she answered.  "Two.  A 
younger sister and another brother, my father's namesake."

        "Mm-hmm.  What do you do first when you can't find them, eh? Do you 
drain the mill pond, or knock on doors?"

        Kendra stared for a moment, then laughed.  "I thought you were 
serious for a moment," she explained.

        D'neor turned back to them and raised an eyebrow, bottle in his 
hand.  Matha raised her eyebrows in return.  Surely he was not going to 
offer that rotgut to this child!  She, on the other hand, could use a good 
swig.

        D'neor blinked, and gave Kendra an odd look.  "I am serious, girl.  
They must have been children once-- what did you do then, eh?"

        Kendra smiled slightly.  "Tanda can usually be found wherever the 
young men are working," she considered aloud.  "Only 14 and already an 
outrageous flirt.  She'll get herself in trouble, if she's not careful.  
Konrad the Younger can be found with his friends, shirking and avoiding 
whatever chores they have waiting for them."  Kendra smiled momentarily, 
then looked worried again.  "But Ked was never like that... he only spent 
time with his friends when all his work was done.  He was serious and 
responsible."

        Shaking his head, D'neor smacked two glasses down on the desk and 
yanked out the bottle's cork.  "I am serious, girl.  Do you have any idea 
what you're suggesting?" he asked, filling both glasses and then taking a 
drink directly from the bottle.  "I don't have the manpower to spare 
searching the edge of the Waste on some hysterical suggestion.  It takes 
time to raise that kind of force-- I certainly couldn't go out and do it 
/now/." he said, an annoyed look on his face.

        "I am *not* hysterical," Kendra replied defiantly.  "You have not 
yet seen me hysterical, and I pray you never have cause to.  Something is 
wrong, but I suppose I shouldn't expect you to take my word for it."

        Matha shook her head, grabbed the nearest glass, and downed half the 
contents before she tasted it.  She gave the girl credit for spunk.

        Kendra continued, eyes locked on D'neor's.  "Yes, my brother is 
moody and sometimes withdrawn.  Yes, he broods off by himself.  But he's no 
shirker; he understands duty.  He does his share without complaining.  If he 
left on an errand and never reported back, you can bet something is stopping 
him."

        Setting down the bottle, D'neor picked up the other glass and 
brought it over, pushing it into Kendra's hand.  "I don't want to see you 
hysterical either, girl," he said conversationally.  "Write your letter, and 
I'll have it sent to Telnor.  If he's not there, I'll think of something 
else to do.  Drink up."

        Kendra looked at the glass warily. "Unless that's an order, Sir, I 
think I'll forgo the drink... but write, I certainly shall... and thank 
you."

        D'neor turned back to the desk and threw himself into his chair.  
"I'm not discounting either your concern or your feelings," he said thinly, 
fixing her with a cold stare.  "But do understand that I am not going to 
take action until /I/ feel that the situation warrants it.  /If/ it will 
make you happier, I will instruct my courier to ask at every Warren within 
three days' straight flight from here.  If-- and only if-- he returns 
without having found my errant rider, then I will begin to worry.  Is that 
clear?"

        "Very," Kendra replied.  "Thank you again."  She turned to leave, 
but at the door looked back thoughtfully.

        D'neor raised an eyebrow.

        "You know, you're nothing like my Father predicted," she said 
thoughtfully.   With a small smile, she continued, "But then I suspect he's 
wrong about rather a lot of things."

        D'neor's smile didn't touch his eyes.  "Perhaps I should have an 
audience with your father," he replied.  "Matha will show you where the 
Candidate's Barracks are."

        Matha got up, set the glass on the desk.  "That stuff will kill ya," 
she said, her tone making it clear that she hoped it did.  Meeting Kendra at 
the door, she took the girl by the arm and half-steered, half-dragged her 
out of D'neor's "Come on, lets get you settled."



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