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 M'rdith moves around the tables, picking up the dishes left by the riders.
Otho was a decent enough fellow, although M'rdith knew he was terribly
disappointed that there weren't any women that had applied to come work for
him, which left him with "the crazy man" as M'rdith was called, to help out.

  Otho had relegated him to the task of cleaning the tables and dishwashing,
which suited M'rdith just fine.  They were mindless tasks that he could do
even when the dragon's talking was heavy.  That was something that had been
going on endlessly as of late.  This fellow that they had captured was
generating all sorts of gossip and rumors, as well as grisly ways that the
person should be dealt with.

 **Stakes upside-down and have splinters put in his^�**

 **Rather grim, don't you think, perhaps if we^�.**

 "Gods, if dragons were humans, we'd be in serious trouble," M'rdith
murmured to himself.  He had learned to tone down his outbursts, but
occasionally one would slip loose, causing everyone to look at him.

 **M'rdith, if you don't mind me saying, those blanket statements are rather
coarse, especially since you are still bound to one of those dragons.**

 <My apologies, Corragh, but when they get riled up, so do I.  I've only
been back here a couple of days.  I've forgotten just how much your kind
chatters, so it takes some getting used to.>

 **You are too kind, M'rdith.  By the way, how long do you think it will
take for them to figure out who you really are?**

 <Well, provided that you keep your mouth shut, I don't think they'll find
that out.  Last thing they need is to find out who I am.  I don't need any
more attention.  I prefer to help in as quiet a manner as possible.>

 With that M'rdith took the dishes back and put them in the washbasin,
stripping off his apron and walking past the tavern owner, "I'll take care
of the dishes later, I need some air."

[..]

 M'rdith walked around the green, watching the activity of the warren as the
riders and other landbound scurried around.

 **Watch it, don't step on that one, he's bringing^�.**

 **Oh, really, my rider believes that^�.**

 The voices actually made more sense when he was out here, as he connected
the fragments to activities around the warren.  He watched as he saw a pair
of dragonriders lofted up into the air and he felt a familiar pang as they
flew up and winked from sight.  Sighing in resignation, M'rdith continued
his wandering, finding himself at the training grounds, where he picking up
a training sword.

 Hefting it in his hand, the feel and balance made him nostalgic.   Granted
it wasn't a real sword, he had hidden that one away long ago, almost
immediately following his accident.  Taking a few experimental swings, he
flowed into a series of moves that became smoother and faster as memories
were triggered by the forms.

 Setting the sword down, he took a breather, the intense concentration and
work winding him a bit.  Despite his age he was in good shape, but wielding
swords took a different level of effort, one that he hadn't risen to in
almost twenty years.  Walking over to the weapons rack, he selected another
practice sword the same length and weight.  Then, with both swords in hand,
he went through another series, beginning slowly, quickening only a little.
Working with two blades was much more difficult.  Closing his eyes, he
focused once again, trying to force the voices back^�..

<Tag - Anyone?  What's the crazy man doing practicing with swords?>

Submitted by
M'rdith

NRPG:  I'm Back!  Hopefully I won't have this long of a lag next time.

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