[Day 8, Mid to Late Afternoon]

Jad woke up slowly, reveling in the memory of his lover's embrace.  After
Gransol had left he had taken a short nap, exhausted from the afternoon's
labors.  Slipping back into his clothes, he proceeded out the door and onto
the Green, on his way to get a snack from the Dining Hall.  He hadn't eaten
much during lunch, and his exertions since then had given him an appetite. 

As he got about halfway across the Green he heard shrieking noises from above
him.  He stopped walking and looked upward, shielding his hands with his eyes.
 Almost directly above him was a badly injured dragon, crying out in pain and
raking the sky with the tatters of his wings, desperately trying to slow
himself down as he plummeted toward earth.  

J'adoube watched, frozen, as the scene seemed to slow down.  The poor dragon's
wings were shredded, as was his hide and his rider.  The young blond, to his
horror, recognized both dragon and rider.  J'ken and Nova were one of the
pairs that had survived the magic shift at Marrid and made their way here, to
Xylian.  He and Jad had played together as children, until J'ken had Joined at
the age of 14 to his dragon.  From then there had been a distance between
them, more so than the difference in ages between he and Jad, who was then 12,
had already imposed.  

Images of the past soared past the young man's eyes as he watched his old
friend plunge.  In such a state of shock was he that he did not even move when
Nova and J'ken hit the ground, a mere five feet from him.  

The young blond was pulled out of his reverie by the arrival of several
healers, who had grabbed medical kits and dashed over when the dragon/rider
pair had first been spotted.  
Unfortunately they were too late.  J'ken and Nova were already dead.  Looking
around Jad noticed several dragons taking off and heading in the direction
that Nova had come from, seeking danger that had stolen the life of one of
their comrades. 

[Tag! Anyone want to go chasing after shadows? Or help clean up the mess?]
*******************

[Day 9, around Midnight]

In the darkness of the night Jad awoke again, this time much more suddenly. 
His bed still rattled against the wall, shook by the blast.  What had
happened?  The only thing that he knew was that something had exploded.  That
noise could have been nothing else.

He fumbled to light the lantern next to his bed, which he kept there for
late-night reading.  As the wick caught and Jad opened the lantern's shutters,
the darkness split and slipped away.  Throwing on some fresh clothes he
stepped over the filthy bundle that were his garments from the previous day,
which were covered in blood and gore from the dragon-crash.  Intent on
discovering the source of the explosion J'adoube headed towards the door.  At
least, toward the spot where his door had been only a few hours before.

Now it was buried under a mountain of rock from the ceiling of his apartment. 
Looking up, he saw that a large chunk of his ceiling had collapsed, leaving a
narrow slit open to the outside world several meters up.  Jad could just
barely see the stars.  Glancing from rock-pile to narrow opening to the
outside world, he realized that he could not exit his apartment through
either.  Sighing, he sank to the ground against the wall, as close to the door
as he could get.  Closing his eyes, he focused all his attention on listening
for the slightest noise from outside on the Green.  No point in wasting his
breath shouting for help until someone was around to hear it....

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

[Early Morning]

Jad was roused once more, this time by a gnawing emptiness in the pit of his
stomach.  After the incident the night before, he had gone to the Dining Hall
and brought some food back, but his appetite had disappeared again.  The food
had remained untouched.  Going over to where he'd set the plate down last, he
was just about to remedy almost twenty-four hours' worth of hunger when he
heard a pounding from outside.  The pounding was repeated, accompanied by a
voice,

"Jad?  Are you there?"  A tingle went down J'adoube's spine at the sound of
Gransol's voice.

"I'm here!  Part of the ceiling caved in! I can't get to the door!" he shouted
back.  "Bring help!"

[Tag Lyn. Dave ^… Is Ark with Gransol?]

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

Respectfully submitted, 

David Hoover

Admin/J'adoube ^… M/X Warrens
Forrellyn & Pekin ^… Telnor Warren
T'drim ^… Jasra Warren
D'tagnan & Bonsai ^… Jasra Warren (at the moment)

Admin/John Keats ^… In Nomine Seattle (forthcoming)
World Admin ^… Thimhallan (forthcoming)


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

____________________________________________________________________
Get your own FREE, personal Netscape WebMail account today at http://webmail.netscape.com.
Date: Wed, 19 Jul 2000 23:46:03 EDT
From: Trissana@aol.com
To: forrellyn@netscape.net, ArianneShadowWalker@worldnet.att.net,
     dlands@dragonlands.dhs.org, kgant@home.com, vasaris@az.com,
     jamescarden@hotmail.com, veronyca_elvenchild@yahoo.com,
     carolyn@prismnet.com, araminta@tesco.net, mint@saqnet.co.uk, canary@in.net,
     mike054@yahoo.com, mile054@hitter.net, shadowsinger@bigfoot.com,
     mdl_ww_stuff@hotmail.com, dramdoug@optusnet.com.au, ripper@i-star.com,
     lcowper@io.com, treedr@yelmtel.com
Subject: [DL-M/X] Not-So-Hot On The Trail

Martyn
(Day 7, Midafternoon)

/snip from Shane's post/
>>Through a haze of pain, Nova got an idea. Teleport. Vainly he tried to 
gather his thoughts, to picture a place to send them too. Lake Arial came 
into few, fuzzy but Nova was pained, so was his rider, and they were 
desperate. Nova focused on that thought... 

>>The two hit the ground a moment before Nova would have made his desperate 
teleport. The dragon's neck snapped as his head plowed into the ground. Over 
and over the two flipped, sickening snaps sounding as bones broke or were 
shattered. The bloody, mangled heap rolled to a stop at the far side of the 
green. Both, thankfully, had died on impact. 
/end snip/

    Martyn had been walking from the quarters he now shared with Koda, in the 
direction of the med center.  He'd begun developing the habit of going to 
pick her up there, because as sure as the sun rose in the sky every morning, 
she'd get engrossed in her duties and forget to take care of herself.  Martyn 
could understand that, to an extent...he, too, was dedicated to his 
profession...but for him to miss eating, he'd have to be doing something 
damned important.

    That something was not long in coming.  He was only halfway to the med 
center when he heard the scream of a dragon over the warren, and turned to 
watch Nova and his rider plunge toward the ground, to strike it a second 
later with a sickening *thump.*

    *Havelok, what happened?* he demanded as he took off at a run toward the 
crash site.

    [I don't know! No one knows!] cried the agitated dragon, just as a chorus 
of howls filled the air - the dragons mourning the passing of one of their 
own kind.  Martyn reached the spot where J'ken lay - so great had been the 
impact that he'd been thrown clear when the saddle straps had been torn.  It 
took only a moment's examination to tell that he was dead...and the dragon 
chorus told him that the same was true of Nova.  

     "Martyn!" cried a voice behind him.  He whirled to see Lakoda dashing 
toward him.  He interposed himself between her and the body of J'ken.

     "It's too late," he tried to tell her, but she was already pushing past 
him.  Her eyes widened in horror as she saw the multitude of sharp flechettes 
that had pierced J'ken's body.  Those, of course, had been the first thing 
that Martyn had noticed.  

     "Who could have done this?" she demanded, just as Warrenlady Rhia and 
several riders arrived.  It was clear from the look in Rhia's eyes that she 
too expected an answer to Koda's question.

    Martyn held up one of the flechettes - a sharp blade that looked like a 
pointed razor.  "Murder," he said quietly.  The others exchanged glances, and 
then Rhia's face lit up with outrage.

    "Who would dare do such a thing?!" she demanded.

    "With your permission, Warrenlady, I am going to find out.," he replied, 
then turned to Lakoda.  "My love...I don't wish to burden you further, 
but...."

     "Anything, if it will help catch whoever did this!" she said vehemently.

     "I need all these missiles recovered," Martyn told her.  "Both from 
J'ken's body and that of Nova.  "And handle them with gloves!  There may be 
fingermarks that can be traced!"

     Or, maybe not, he thought.  The little information he had already told 
him that he was probably up against a professional. 

* * * * *
Shortly afterward, Warrenlady's office.

     "What did you find?" Rhia asked.

     "A rather crude catapult," Martyn told her, sitting down in a chair.  
"And, no, it didn't give me any firm leads as to who built it."

     Rhia frowned.  "I thought you were reputed to be quite good at telling 
all about a criminal from what he leaves behind," she said.

     "It could be a she," he pointed out.  "A woman could have built and 
triggered that catapult just as easily as a man.  And as to finding clues...I 
did, in a manner of speaking."

     She nodded, listening intently.

     "I found the catapult quite easily," he said.  "No great difficulty to 
figure the trajectory of the missiles that killed J'ken and his dragon.  It 
was only scantily concealed."

      "A crude catapult, scantily concealed," she said.  "Then you're saying 
that our killer isn't too bright?  He was certainly bright enough to..."

     Martyn held up a hand.  "Warrenlady, there's a very real possibility 
we're dealing with a professional," he told her.  "I found the catapult 
because the killer didn't care if we found it.  It was disposable, as it 
were."

    "How does *that* tell you that he...or she...is a professional?" she 
asked.

     "Because no attempt had been made to cover the catapult with loose brush 
after it had been fired, despite the fact that much of it was available close 
at hand.  An amateur would think that a necessity...a professional would know 
that it makes no difference."

     "That's rather thin, Martyn," she said doubtfully.

     "And those blades that were fired from the catapult....hardly farm 
implements," he said.  And consider this...within a few minutes...as soon as 
it was realized that we had a murderer on our hands...dragons were flying 
every which way, trying to locate the culprit.  But no culprit was found.  
There are, of course, parties out scouring the environs of the warren right 
now, but I doubt they'll find anything.  Whoever did this had his escape 
planned.  I need not tell you, I think, that someone who commits such a crime 
purely out of hatred for dragonriders and dragons is *not* going to plan so 
carefully."

     Rhia nodded tiredly.  "Can you catch him?" she asked.

     Martyn steepled his hands before him.  "That, my dear Warrenlady, is 
what we're about to find out."

* * * * * * * *
(Late night, Day 8)

/snip from Shane's post/
>>The damned thing had ruined the fuse! Angrily Banks tore the fuse away and 
threw it into a corner. Quickly cutting another fuse and fixing to the 
explosive, Danny dropped it back into the creatures mouth. In the mean time 
the blasted match had gone out, forcing him to light another one of the 
precious commodities. Striking another match, Banks quickly touched the fuse 
before the damned dragon had a chance to ruin another one. Danny was out side 
and up the rope in an instant, gathering the hemp up behind him. He was going 
fast, realizing that he hadn't thought about how much time the new fuse would 
give him. Apparently it had been a little longer than the old one, Banks was 
nearly to the top when an explosion shook the warren. Hoisting himself over, 
he shook his head as the dragon riders came to investigate. Banks was certain 
that poor Hogarth would be lacking any head at all right about now. The 
explosive was a dose, no matter how crude. He again filled in the anchor hole 
and slipped away to sleep. 
/end snip/

    Martyn had seen many dead bodies before, but *this* was repulsive even 
for him.  He had to work hard to keep from throwing up as he looked at the 
mangled remains of what had once been a dragon of Xylian.  His rider had been 
taken to the med center moments ago, and now Martyn was busily searching for 
the clue that might reveal the identity of this killer who kept the warren in 
the grip of a paralyzing fear.  

     Things were getting bad.  Warren operations, despite Rhia's best 
efforts, were grinding to a halt.  Everyone spent so much time looking over 
their shoulders that little work was getting done.  This afternoon, he'd 
heard talk of the riders and dragons abandoning the warren and fleeing into 
the countryside, away from the killer. The talk hadn't been from anyone in 
any sort of authority position, of course...but he wondered how long it would 
take such notions to spread.

     Something had to be done.  The killer had to be stopped....now.  

     He heard a sound behind him, and turned to see Arkt'han standing behind 
him.  The big man stared at the ruin that had been the dragon Hogarth with a 
look of smoldering rage.  

     "Why haven't you caught him?" he asked quietly. 

     Martyn sighed.  "You're not the only one who's asked that," he admitted. 
 "Whoever this is, he or she is good.  But I *have* figured out a thing or 
two.  Come, look here."

      Arkt'han nodded and followed Martyn.  "Look here," Martyn said, 
pointing down at the floor.  "A sulphur match.  And over here..." he went on, 
pacing a few feet away and pointing again.  "A fuse."

     Arkt'han shrugged.  "What does that tell you?  We already knew this was 
done by explosives!  Half the warren heard it!"

     "Neither the fuse nor the match is home-made," Martyn said.  "Our killer 
left us a crude catapult that an illiterate country-boy could have put 
together, knowing that we would find it.  But these little items..."  Martyn 
handed the fuse to Arkt'han, knowing that such a thing wouldn't hold 
fingermarks anyway.  "He...or she...left in a hurry, I would say.  I don't 
think we were meant to find these.  The match is fairly generic, but only 
obtainable in one of the cities.  But this fuse...not the type used by the 
Mining Guild, which is the only legitimate user of such a thing."

     "A representative of some Lord, then?" Arkt'han asked.  

     "Or a professional assassin," Martyn agreed.  "TAG would be a high 
probability at this point."

     "Not a dragonrider," for sure." Arkt'han said vehemently.

    "Not unless we're dealing with a rogue pair," Martyn said.  "But you're 
right, it's unlikely.  What we do know for certain, though, is that he 
doesn't have a dragon bringing him in.  The warren's dragons have been on the 
alert, and would know of any strange dragon entering the warren."

    "And the warren has been searched...repeatedly," Arkt'han mused.  "So 
he's somehow coming in to do these crimes, and then leaving again."

     "We must discover what that way is," Martyn said.  "That might be what 
allows us to trap him."

(Tag Dave...does Arkt'han have any ideas?)

Submitted by:

John

Martyn & Havelok
Marrid/Xylian Warrens

Trevor & Trissana, Cleft Warren
Trell & Flerrion, Daere Warren
Warrenlady Tara & Varaenna, Jasra Warren
Dalmar the Dragonhealer, Telnor Warren

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