Divine Knight Ámp <jpugh@bscn.com>

"If you want to talk about it, let me know - after I've woken up, of course."

As FallenAngel walked off, Jonas remained stretched on the ground, his hat over his face and a load of misgivings in his head. (If she sensed it...then it _was_ a vision, it wasn't just a strange dream brought about by a lack of sleep. Which means Laoghaire knows I'm here. And if He knows, then why do I still have possession of Masamune?) Even with the
sword, he wasn't entirely sure he could stop FallenAngel if she chose to take it from him.

(Is it possible He _wants_ me to have the sword?)

He continued to worry about the problem, his need to speak with the Angel warring with the effects of the whiskey, until the troll Muranog announced to the party that something dangerous was approaching. Standing up, awkwardly hefting Masamune (funny, you'd think after 12 years, I'd be a little more comfortable handling this piece of tin), he walked towards the center of the clearing. With the last effects of the alcohol burning
out of his system, he muttered "Well, has anyone got any _bright ideas_?"

From: <Sorchafyre@aol.com>

It took a few moments for Sand to wake up. The first thing she became aware of was that her front was toasty warm while her backside was chilly. Since she did not feel another's skin against hers, she must be by a fireplace. As she
shifted slightly, a rock poked into her ribs, and she noticed other areas of discomfort. (No, strike that. Not a fireplace, a fire. And outside on ground that's none too soft.) Sighing, she sat up, opened her eyes, and attempted to brush her hair into some semblance of order. (If I would have known I was sleeping outside instead of in the comfortable inn, I would have left it braided) she thought wearily. Her hair was both her vanity and her enemy. Trying to get her bearings, she looked slowly around the camp.

She saw some of the half-familiar people who were at the table (last night? Yesterday? The sun is setting, how long have I slept?) and several newcomers whom she did not recognize. She looked around for the one person she really wanted to find, and quickly found him. She stared at Xenon for the space of three heartbeats, trying to assimilate the fact that he was holding a baby. Then she turned away quickly to hide a smile at the expression on his face. (Survival tip number twelve,) she thought frivolously, (never, ever let someone with that much power see you being amused by him.) Then she caught
sight of something else that made her catch her breath in wonder. The beautiful white pegasus that she had thought abandoned them was back, and it had changed color. It was now gorgeous ebony and followed the princess and
some other people. (I should go talk to her, she was nice to me before) flitted through her mind, but the lady seemed to be busy. (I shall have to find that troll later too, and thank him for saving my life.) Laughing at herself for thinking she had to "find" anyone that tall, Sand looked around for something to do.

As her stomach rumbled unbecomingly, she noticed the barrels of food provided by Xenon before she had slept. Brushing herself off, she went over to peer into one. (Hmm, apples, oranges, pears, what's that green thing?) Gingerly, she began to pick fruits out of the barrel and slice them with her boot knife, using a nearby cask lid to arrange them on. Sand had done the cooking since she was old enough to understand how to put things together, and she was comforted now by the familiar routine of slicing and arranging. As she put together an artistic looking tree made out of fruit, she joined it with
several flowers cut from apples. Sand found herself both humming a song, and stealing glances at Xenon as she worked. When her tree was finished, she suddenly wondered if anyone else there was hungry. (I shall feel awful if I cut this fruit and then it went to waste,) she thought, distressed. (Next time at least ask.) She picked up a whole apple and felt better when she noticed someone else putting the ingredients together for a stew. (Blade? Whatever her name, she can do more than just cut food with that knife, I think.) Carefully picking up her lid with it's food she moved back to the fire and spoke to the woman.

"Do you think anyone will want some of this, to go with what you're making?"

From: "Angie" <heraldtg@mbox3.singnet.com.sg>

:"Do you think anyone will want some of this, to go with what you're making?"

Shadowblade looked up from her cooking. Sand was standing before her, holding a lid covered with... a fruit "tree"? The elf frowned and then suddenly smiled, her slight confusion now dispersed.

"Sand-- that _is_ your name, isn't it? -- I believe that this arrangement of fruits would better serve as a decoration of some sort at a function! Truly, it is _that_ beautiful. I think it would be wasted if it went into this odd porridge of sorts. There's only so much I can do with oat." Her lips broke into a smile. "But, I think we can serve these fruits up too... Some of us happen to be vegetarians..." She slumped down in front of the boiling pot again, sighing, "Well... it looks like for _this_ trip, I am, once again, the de facto cook." She grinned and winked at Sand.

"Hmm, want to help me? The others would want to eat soon enough." 'Blade offered one of her knives to the other woman, settling back to the monotonous task of cutting up the meat that she had caught earlier that morning. She didn't like luring those rabbits, but the rations were growing thin. Using some of the meat in the porridge would stretch the taste of it.

Suddenly, she heard something. (Muranog. The troll... what is it he's saying? Danger?) Her ears strained to listen for the danger that Muranog warned against. (I don't _smell_ anything, but that could be due to the food. As for hearing...)
There, was that a rustle she heard? Coming from her... right. Somewhere in the clump of greenery not twenty paces away from her, a creature stirred. (Tread of a foot, no, not human, not humanoid either. But big, this thing is big...) She
paused in her cutting, slowly cleaning the knife on the grass. Sharpening it against a whetstone, she tried to appear as nonchalant as possible, given the circumstances. Nobody else had appeared to hear what she had just heard. (Damn,
am I hearing things?)

:Ynys! Horned one, do you sense something nearby?:

:Yes, child. But it could be any of the larger travelers among us. Erelan, for instance, or Sable and Muranog, even. I do not detect anything else. But be on your guard.:

:I think it's time we started packing.: 'Blade scanned the clearing. Everyone was beginning to wake. All, save Darro, the injured one, coming to consciousness. (I wonder if they heard Muranog's warning.) Gesturing across the steaming pot to her new cooking partner, 'Blade whispered, "Look, Sand, I think we might be having company soon. I think we better start packing. The porridge is cooked, lacking only the seasoning, but that can be added later. I think our lives might be more valuable." With that, she pushed herself up and got to packing her pack. The utensils would have to be saved later.

From: "Raven Darkblade" <abbykat@hotmail.com>

"Danger, friends," Muranog tersely explained as the others noticed his sudden increased alertness. "Sable's danger sense detects something. Close, and coming this way. We had best prepare for trouble."

Raven cursed sulfurously, the Darkblade coming to her hand in an instant. "Mor, go," she commanded, sending the raven winging into the fading light. Solarin, too, was on his feet immediately, longbow in hand.

Trusting Solarin to keep watch on the immediate area, Raven closed her eyes, watching through Mor's senses as he flew through the branches. Soon--sooner that Raven would have liked--the raven found what it was that was approaching. A troupe of the lizard-men that were fairly common in the Kaladh since Savar's arrival.

:Magic?: she asked Mor.

He perched briefly on a high limb. :No,: he eventually responded.

She nodded, suddenly relieved. At last, something she could _fight!_

:Back to me,: she instructed, then broke her contact with the raven and opened her eyes.

"Lizard-men," she said, "five of them. Mor didn't sense any magic on them. Solarin and I can handle it, but the lot of us ought to get moving. If we're attracting lizard-men, it won't be long before we're getting the nastier, more intelligent beasts to deal with."

 From: "Angie" <heraldtg@mbox3.singnet.com.sg>

'Blade looked up from her packing. The scent of something alien was coming nearer. (Moving, not really very fast, but fast enough. I hope the others have had their fill of breakfast. After this, I doubt they'll have the appetite.) A fight was coming up; she could feel it in her veins. It was either fight, or run. And with so many still waking up, and the injured young man that Rainbow brought in, it would be hard to run... of course, they also had more fighters among them since the skirmish with the screylinh.

:Ynys, dear, are you packed? We might need to evacuate.: She glanced over the packs and folded up tent. The tent would serve as a blanket for Ynys, it was that soft a material. The pack, 'Blade would carry.

:Yes, child. I smell something alien. Reptilian... If I remember correctly from the records, there are only a few species that fits into the category we are examining... The closest fit would be the lizard men...:

:Lizards... damn! And we were getting comfy too. You'd better load Darro onto your back. I think we may need to run after all.: 'Blade hefted the laden pack on her back, and walked over to the fire. Stooping down, she touched Sand's
shoulder. "Sand, m'lady," she said quietly, so as not to startle her. "I believe we would be having company. Might I suggest packing up? If Xenon still has that carriage of his, we can store the food -- cooked or uncooked -- within. If not,
then we'll have to abandon them. Take whatever rations you can and pack them into your bags. Fill your canteen too."

Having reminded her, she turned and lifted the small pot out of the fire-pit she had made. Stamping sand on the fire to put it out, she quickly lumped the dry rations into a small mountain beside the pit. (I hope the others have the sense to salvage these.) She turned to the prone body of Darro, the injured one. He was still unconscious, but a quick and small probe into his system showed that his condition was getting slightly better. A fever might be erupting though. (What timing.) She hefted her pack into a more comfortable position and puffing, she managed to slung Darro over her shoulder and carried him over to Ynys. (Ugh, but this is heavier than I expected... 'Blade, you're getting out of condition.)

:Hoofed one, over to you!: The elf carefully placed the inert body of Darro onto a relatively comfortable position on Ynys' back. :So sorry to demean you like this.:

:It's okay. By the way, would you like to warn everyone else?:

:I have to. Muranog's warning seems to be getting nowhere.: With that, she began to make her round around the clearing. (I hope I don't have to cast any waking spells.) A word here, a touch on the shoulder there, and soon, people were stirring from sleep, and getting to packing.

(Now, all I have to do is wait.) She made her way to where Raven and Solarin were standing. "Good morning to the two of you. May I join you in greeting our...visitors?"

Sand stood unsure with her offering of fruit. Shadowblade seemed to be saying she had done something wrong in making a pretty arrangement, however her voice was kind and her smile was not mocking. Then she smiled and winked, and Sand knew she was not being made fun of, but rather included in some camaraderie she did not quite understand.

<"Hmm, want to help me? The others would want to eat soon enough.">

Something inside of Sand relaxed as she set her fruit down and took the proffered knife. She knew how to play this role too, this was companions-on- the-trail-sharing-duties. She settled into a rhythm of cutting and cleaning, waiting for Shadowblade to start talking. This was the time the other woman should start telling her stories of life on the road, or her past adventures. Sand drew in a breath to start the conversation, but stopped as she noticed Shadowblade seemingly listening to something.

<Gesturing across the steaming pot to her new cooking partner, 'Blade whispered, "Look, Sand, I think we might be having company soon. I think we better start packing. The porridge is cooked, lacking only the seasoning, but that can be added later. I think our lives might be more valuable." With that, she pushed herself up and got to packing her pack.>

Sand stared stupidly at the pot for a moment. (How do you pack stew?) she wondered, distracted. She looked at the fruit. (I can't just dump that back in the barrel, it would make everything sticky with juice.) Sand decided to leave the food to someone who knew what he or she were doing. Then she felt a soft touch on her shoulder, and heard Shadowblade's voice.

<"Sand, m'lady," she said quietly, so as not to startle her. "I believe we would be having company. Might I suggest packing up? If Xenon still has that carriage of his, we can store the food -- cooked or uncooked -- within. If not, then we'll have to abandon them. Take whatever rations you can and pack them into your bags. Fill your canteen too.">

Grateful beyond words at having a clear direction, Sand stepped to the fire to retrieve the pack she had recently used as a pillow. She quickly filled her canteen, and looked at her pack. (I never needed a bigger pack than this before. Maybe I can put some of those apples in here.) She stuffed what she could in the sides of her bag and looked around to see if she could find something else to pack in, but became distracted by a demand more insistent than her hunger had been. (Well, if we're going to be walking awhile, there is something I should do before we set out.) Sand left the circle to find the large tree designated as "privy" when they set up camp.

+++++++

Sand returned to the circle just in time to hear Raven.

<"Lizard-men," she said, "five of them. Mor didn't sense any magic on them. Solarin and I can handle it, but the lot of us ought to get moving. If we're attracting lizard-men, it won't be long before we're getting the nastier, more intelligent beasts to deal with.">

She shivered as it struck her that "visitors" and "company" were actually danger. She had just been out in the woods alone. She could have been attacked, or worse returned to find everyone else had left without her. Sand looked with new eyes on the low-key haste that had everyone moving. (I guess I should help with something.) The food had apparently all been taken care of while she was away, and there was no clear task for someone who had never really traveled with more than two people before. Feeling endangered and slightly frightened, Sand looked around for a safe place to be out of the way. She wondered if the "leadership" question would come up again, and caught sight of Muranog, still with his sword out and obviously on guard. (That looks like a _very_ safe place to be right now. Why, if trouble came, maybe no one would notice me.) She moved closer to him, and waited.

From: "Axe" <tntgray@sprintmail.com>

Xenon finished going through Kang's report of the area and noted the approaching lizardmen without worrying about it much. (How worrying can five stinking lizard men be?) he wondered. They weren't equipped especially well and this place was bristling with a plethora of well-rested fighters and powerful mages... Xenon felt mildly sorry for the ignorant lizardmen in fact. Then Dak had the audacity to knock on his armour and hand him a BABY. Xenon prided himself on reacting quickly to any situation, but this one stunned him just a bit.

(What in the blackfire hradillach is Dak thinking?) Xenon stared at the rather cute little fellow in his arms a moment, then shrugged and did the only thing he really could. He nestled the kid in one arm, and while asking Kang to unarmour his head he coochie cooed the little guy's belly. The little fellow looked at him with wide eyes but didn't seem particularly
afraid. Looking at his aura, Xenon saw he was pretty gifted, had an immensely powerful bond to both a sentient sword, and one to his mother, the wench Dak was going to see about. Then Xenon noted that he was deaf....

(Poor little Waif. A few hours and a reasonably safe place and I could generate that missing section of your brain. I'll see about doing that later... ) And then Xenon _Felt_ Darro nearby. He turned with the kid who seemed quite happy to play with the now unsharpened edges of his armour and strangely kept making little hand signals which looked remarkable like
Thieves sign for "want", and stared at where Darro and his resident Demon lay. The kid's ignorant mother had tried to heal the evil fragdragithrig and wasn't looking too happy. She _was_ looking god-touched though, and Dak was looking quite concerned.

Xenon toyed with the idea of just draining Darro's life force and stashing the demon for later, but then remembered where he was. (Urgrakdrig) he thought. He turned his attention back to the kid when he almost got poked in the eye by questing fingers. Luckily Kang diverted that particular disaster. Xenon about half caught Sand smirking at him as she turned away,
her thoughts rife with amusement at him holding a child. Strangely, he didn't bother to get upset as he usually would have... for show anyway. Better to seem enigmatic and mysterious at this point most likely. He walked over to put his back to the wall and had Kang extrude a frame chair for him to sit back in.

He tried the Thieves Sign for hello to the kid, but only got a confused look in response. He conjured a piece of candy out of thin air and held it up to see what the kid would do. "Want?" Xenon signed to the kid. "Want!" the kid emphatically signed back. Xenon gave him the small bit of candy (specifically not enough to create terribly sticky fingers) Xenon thought wryly, and was mildly surprised to see him sign "Thank You" in return as he popped the candy into his mouth. Xenon started to wonder where the kid could have learned Thieves Sign, and then remembered who the kid had been
traveling with for some time recently. Dak. Dak couldn't stand not to communicate with any one or thing which he could reasonably envision possessing the capacity to do so. Xenon would bet that the kid's new talents in communication were his doing. He could also bet the kid's mother would not be happy about it... especially since that sword was a House sword and likely signaled that the kid was a noble Heir of, likely, quite high breeding. Xenon smiled to himself, and then, not able to help himself, chuckled out loud when the kid stared him in the eye, gave him a passable imitation of one of Dak's smiles and signed "More". Xenon, knowing when he had lost, laughed some more, quietly, and conjured the kid another piece of candy.

Suddenly the troll shot up like a child's jumping jack mounted on a really big spring, whipped out his sword, and spoke up that danger was coming. Xenon watched the fighters getting geared up, and the others starting to sleepily get up....very, very slowly. The littly dusky honey ...Xenon used the baby talk in his thoughts with a devilish glee... pulled out her cute
black wittle blade and held it with military precision, her golden elf boy... _oh Frag! Her Golden Elf Boy LifeBonded Lover!_ stood up beside her. Xenon blinked to clear his aura sight and focused on the life bond there. (Oh you poor stupid lovelorn imbecilic drooling like the overcultured dog you are sure to be heart-rended soon moron of an elf) Xenon thought, shielding quickly and sparing a moment of pity even for someone he liked as little as he did Solarin. His attention was drawn slightly by the undergrown idiot wielding the 9-foot demon sword.

(I could run a regular Hades convention here!) Xenon mused humorously to himself as he noticed the kid sign "More" again and conjured him a piece of candy. He noted for a moment that the kid was polite enough already to still sign "Thank You" every time Xenon gave him another piece. Xenon conjured one for himself, and ate it, somewhat amused by the antics of the camp's denizens.

(For whomever's sake) he thought. (Can't you ignorant lot see how easily that troll can make mincemeat of 5 measly lizard men? That's without his war baa baa.) Raven and Solarin could probably each handle five in a pinch with some effort and that was in a strait up fight. Solarin, if he was half the elven ranger he claimed, could down at least three if not all five of
those lizard men as they crossed the 15 feet or so from the tree's edge and where he stood. Then there was Shadowblade moving up to join them, and he noticed Dak pull his blade. He figured Blade was good for two to three
easy, and knew for a fact that Dak could slice and dice all five in fairly short order. He set Kang to scanning further out and up with his farsighting just in case this wasn't just some poor lizardmen war/hunting party out looking for dinner. He then returned to the fun at hand.

(That's not even counting the War Fairie, the little half elven woods slinker, the unicorn, the pegasai, the elven Paladin (Frilgalithch wench), the demon two-soul, the soul sucker, and the wondrous full of themselves magical morons from Animi. Oh, and lets not forget poor Aggy dear over there either. She bears watching during any conflict. I don't think she
has the skill or power to gate anything in, but Savar is known for using toys to do the job. Any gate magic and I'll give it a warp. )

Xenon sat back to watch the slaughter, and conjured another piece of candy each for him and the kid. As he did so, he thought about the possibility of flying arrows or bone clubs or somesuch, and cast a protective ward around the kid. No missiles or blades would penetrate it, and the little rascal could still eat his candy. He checked up, and found there was an overhang from the wall behind him about ten feet up, and Kang assured him there was no one or thing else in the near vicinity. Xenon set him back to farchecking, and watched with interest as Sand went over towards the troll, seemingly intent to hide nearby.

(Ah, I see) Xenon thought' (We're to have handicaps on the fighters to even the odds just a touch. How sporting of them! ) Xenon almost physically convulsed with laughter. The kid stared up at him and smiled. Xenon stroked his fine soft hair, and then did a bit of cleaning and straitening magic on him until he looked a fine little prince indeed. Xenon, knowing Kang could easily accomplish several things at once, asked him to start sending colors over his surface to amuse the kid. Xenon smiled as the kid cooed with delight and began to try to catch the pretty colors.

Xenon looked the little boy over, and decided that he would do a bit of forest fashion work here. He took several silk cloth handkerchiefs from his pocket and a finely dyed leather tunic of his own. Gauging the tyke's size, he set the tunic over his head and shoulders and stuffed the handkerchiefs inside near his chest adding a few small gold coins to the brew. The kid just looked at him. He drew upon a modicum of creation magic and soon the little fellow was finely decked out in a bright green silk hose and tunic, with darker green leather boots (with fringe of course) and breeches and a vest of the same, the vest, boots and breeches with gold buttons in the appropriate places. The buttons of course, were etched with forest scenes as he had envisioned, and all in all, as he sat back a bit to survey his work, he was quite happy with it. The kid, looking quite the little dandy now, seemed to like it as well. Xenon thought that turning his other things into a nice clean little diaper was a nice touch as well. (Positively paternal of me) he jested to himself.

(What fun! They gave me the kid, why not play with it?!). Xenon pointed to the kid and made the Thieves Sign for "Handsome Fellow" while reinforcing it with sending pictures of the kid into his outer mind, showing how fine he
looked and sending the emotions of course that went with it. The kid observed him carefully, and then, pointing to himself, repeated it almost perfectly. Xenon carefully took his little fingers and formed the sign again and repeated it to him mentally. The kid, quite a bright little guy, repeated it perfectly pointed to himself, and smiled. Then, endearing himself eternally, he made it again and pointed to Xenon. Xenon flushed with pleasure and then almost roared with laughter when the kid held out one hand and signed "want". He smiled and only held in the tumultuous laughter he felt by biting his lower lip a bit. He conjured the little master player his candy and gave him a nodding bow from his seat. "Oh well played little
lordling!" Xenon said quietly but out loud, smiling, and then, remembering the kid's deafness, sent it mentally as well, using imagery and emotional content. The little beggar just looked up at him, as if from under a set of bangs and smiled an innocent smile. Xenon nearly died again, knowing that look well.

Kang informed him that the lizardmen were nearly there. Xenon mindspoke the troll, Solarin, Raven, and Blade openly and politely, brushing a slight knock on shields where there were any, and then spoke

: I will watch Aggy dear for any mischief while you fighter folk make quick work of these poor unsuspecting lizard men. And I must say that it is quite sporting of you, Muranog, to take Sand under your feet as a handicap that way. Perhaps you, Solarin could fire your bow with one hand? Give them a fighting chance? Drag it out a bit?" Xenon sent a picture of the five lizard men walking through the woods warily with little bonnets on and rattles for clubs and swords, and then an image of the scene the huge troll the golden elves and the others all presented from back where he was. He sent an emotion of mock pity for the lizard men and then a final image of two score cards, such as those held out at times during tourneys and such. One showed an image of Muranog wringing the neck of one of the lizard men with one hand and Solarin and Raven leaning up against it with arms folded and it said "Home -Five'. The other had the other four lizard men draped over it in various states of dismemberment and said 'Visitors- Zero'. Xenon sent a final emotional smile... and then sent no more.

From: fallenangel_ksd@juno.com

Fallenangel started awake at the sound of many people moving about the campsite. As was her wont, she knew exactly where she was from the moment she awoke, and spent no time on muddle-headedness. Shadowblade was moving about, waking those that still slept, while the others were quickly packing, or standing in battle-readiness with bared weapons. She muffled a curse and whistled shrilly for Donas. As the well-trained stallion trotted over to her, Fallenangel mind-reached for her bond-mate Isis. The panther ghosted up silently beside her, wings sleeked back against her sides. Tossing the saddle blanket over Donas' back, Fallenangel glared at Isis.

:Why didn't you wake me up?:

:You needed your sleep, angel.: The panther calmly returned. :You can't keep going forever. And I was about to wake you up anyway - the lizard-men are almost here.:

:Lizard-men?: Fallenangel glanced at Isis. :I don't recall hearing of them before....:

:You forget, bond-mate, how very far we are from where we belong.: Before Fallenangel could defend her choice to leave Laoghaire's lands, Isis continued. :There are many strange creatures here that we know nothing about. I think that we should just follow the others' lead.:

Fallenangel nodded in agreement as she tightened the cinch on Donas' saddle. Swinging onto his back, she gathered the reins and turned him toward where the others were gathered.

:Let's go see if anyone needs any help, shall we?: she sent to the panther.

From: "Raven Darkblade" <abbykat@hotmail.com>

"Good morning to the two of you. May I join you in greeting our...visitors?"

Raven tugged absently at the Darkblade's harness, as Solarin wordlessly stepped away to pack up their possessions. "I appreciate the offer," she told Shadowblade, "but really I think Solarin and I can handle it on our own--and the more people who come with us, the more likely it is that someone will get hurt by accident because they're in the way. I'd really
prefer that as many skilled fighters and mages stayed with the group as possible, in case something decides to take advantage of this--distraction." She shrugged. "Though if you really want to come, I certainly can't stop you."

:I agree with you, shayala,: Solarin told her without looking up from his swift packing. :And so, one might infer, does Xenon.:

Frowning, Raven queried, :What did he say?:

Solarin replied with a mental chuckle. :Quite a lot, not much of which was worth repeating. The gist of it was that he feels a great deal more sympathy for the lizards than he does for us.:

:Ah.:

Moments later, Solarin returned to her side, leaving the now pack-bearing horses picketed where they were. "We'd best go meet our hapless visitors, shayala."

"Indeed." Raven flashed a wry, sardonic grin. "In very deed. Shall we?"

He bowed with the gallantry of a Karilanthian courtier. "After you."

She seized his shoulder, and together they headed for the edge of the clearing, Mor winging along behind.

From: <Seashimer@aol.com>

Seashimmer had woken early, after a restless night. The rough ground under her cloak had made itself felt in every part of her body, although after years of traveling she should have been used to it. Once the high of actually having a specific purpose and destination had faded, she was left wondering what had possessed her to join this group in the first place. There were far too many elves for her to hide her obvious lack of knowledge about the manners, geography, and current events of the Elven kingdoms. (I suppose I can just avoid the elves and only talk to the humans and half elves. . .except
elves don't do that, do they? On the other hand, look at Solarin and Raven.) She cursed quietly to herself, wishing, for perhaps the 700th time, that she had been given access to the extensive libraries and other, less mundane, information sources back home. (No one ever felt well on an empty stomach, did they? And it certainly smells good over there. ..) She pushed away from the tree she had been leaning against and stretched, before walking towards the campfire, listening with half an ear to the murmuring voices that filled the camp. She froze in her tracks as one voice stood out above the rest.

>>"Danger, friends,"<<

(No food, then,) she thought, as she watched the food begin to disappear into sacks as soon as the troll's words faded. She paused for an instant to conjure something to fill her stomach, then remembered where they were. Given the rate at which the monsters seemed to home in on magic, it would probably not be a wise idea at all. Waiting for further information on the "danger", she continued to the fire to aid with packing the food.

>>"Lizard-men," she said, "five of them. Mor didn't sense any magic on
them. Solarin and I can handle it, but the lot of us ought to get
moving. If we're attracting lizard-men, it won't be long before we're
getting the nastier, more intelligent beasts to deal with."<<

Sea swung the final sack of food over her shoulder and carried it to where the rest of the group was gathered, stacking it on top of the previous ones. (I wonder if someone's horse will carry these. . .or is Xenon planing on calling up another carriage?) She listened to the announcement about the Lizard-men, feeling no more informed than before.

From: "Angie" <heraldtg@mbox3.singnet.com.sg>

<: I will watch Aggy dear for any mischief while you fighter folk make quick work of these poor
:unsuspecting lizard men. And I must say that it is quite sporting of you,
:Muranog, to take Sand under your feet as a handicap that way. Perhaps you,
:Solarin could fire your bow with one hand? Give them a fighting chance?
:Drag it out a bit?" Xenon sent a picture of the five lizard men walking
:through the woods warily with little bonnets on and rattles for clubs and
:swords, and then an image of the scene the huge troll the golden elves and
:the others all presented from back where he was. He sent an emotion of
:mock pity for the lizard men and then a final image of two score cards, such
:as those held out at times during tourneys and such. One showed an image of
:Muranog wringing the neck of one of the lizard men with one hand and Solarin
:and Raven leaning up against it with arms folded and it said "Home -Five'
:The other had the other four lizard men draped over it in various states
:of dismemberment and said 'Visitors- Zero'. Xenon sent a final emotional
:smile... and then sent no more.>

'Blade didn't retort Xenon's mockery of the lizards. Somehow, there can always be flukes. She sighed and waited for the lizards to arrive, crouching down to position.

:You know, people, this is getting stupid. Why don't I scout ahead for them? Anyone wants to come along? Xenon is right, we should rather protect this clearing than run from it just yet. Our plans are not in order, we are too big a group to set off together, and some nitty-gritty has to be taken care off. Like the baby for instance. And the injured Darro, for another.: 'Blade Sent to the warriors who were assembled, politely, of course. She hoped they would see her view. Too many fighters would create confusion, as it did in the screylinh skirmish. For that small fact, too many were injured. Even if the wounds were not serious, it was more than should have been inflicted.

:Ynys, I don't think we might need to leave the clearing after all. As Xenon sent, they are but five. I'll leave my pack with you until I get back.: She dumped her pack on the ground by Ynys' hooves. Taking her knives and the Blade, she made her way back to where the fighters were talking. Arrows would hardly be useful in the cramp darkness of the forest out there.

From: "Raven Darkblade" <abbykat@hotmail.com>

:You know, people, this is getting stupid. Why don't I scout ahead for them? Anyone wants to come along? Xenon is right, we should rather protect this clearing than run from it just yet. Our plans are not in order, we are too big a group to set off together, and some nitty-gritty has to be taken care off. Like the baby for instance. And the injured Darro, for another.:

Solarin relayed Shadowblade's Mindspeech to Raven as the pair jogged near-soundlessly through the trees in the direction of the approaching lizards.

:She has a point,: Raven told him, :but let's take care of these scalies first.: She came to a halt as Mor whistled a warning. :Here we are... I'll play bait; lizard-men always go for what looks like the easiest prey....:

Solarin nodded, catching hold of a low-hanging tree limb and swinging up. :Just try to keep to the more open areas.:

She put her back to a tree and waited for the lizards to come into view.

:Right.:

From: "Adrienne" <ametz@u.arizona.edu>

Aliaya gratefully accepted Dak's aid in getting to her feet and finding a more comfortable location by the fire, distinctly away from Zeke. Shadowblade and a dark-haired woman by the name of Sand were fixing more food. Dusk had come in the time that she had taken to heal Darro, so people would be ready to eat again. Ruvan was no longer with Dak, but in
the arms of the man Xenon. Aliaya had just summoned up the strength to retrieve her son when the troll warned of danger and Shadowblade and Sand began to pack up the food.

As she rose, she began to hear echoes in her mind. Startled, she sat back down and reassessed her shields. They were still strong and should not have let any non-shielded thoughts through. She strengthened her shields, but the echoes persisted. "...dusky honey... _oh Frag! Her Golden Elfboy Lifebonded Lover!_" resonated into Aya's mind. (That's coming from Ruvan's link) she realized with surprise. (Certainly _he_ doesn't know that kind of language!) An image of candy and making a sign for it overcame the echoes. Aya fought down the rush of vertigo that came from having just
used her Gifts so intensely and then tuning them up to "listen" to Ruvan.

When the nausea subsided, she re-focused on the link with Ruvan. More candy filled her mind as she sensed a sparkly veil surround her. Something odd was happening with her link to Ruvan. She could hear this Xenon's thoughts through it, plus she could use other-senses that must be Ruvan's. That was especially odd. She knew he was Gifted, but his Gifts shouldn't mature for another 10 years.

:There is something about that Xenon and his Kang. They are unwittingly augmenting Ruvan's own Power,: whispered into her mind, then the presence of Vahlender was gone.

Aliaya watched in awe as she could sense all that Xenon did to Ruvan and hear echoes of his thoughts, which became more and more clear as time passed. Amused, she watched Xenon play with her son. She was pleased by the way he cleaned him up and the clothing he dressed him in. (He looks like a true prince. Now if only someone would do the same for me,) she thought, looking down at her travel-worn self.

Aliaya then caught Xenon's entertaining show of the lizard-battle. She laughed out loud for the first time in a long time, the year had been so dreary. She liked Xenon more and more, for rescuing Dak, for playing with her son, and for his sense of humor.

Knowing Ruvan was hungry for something more than candy, and that, despite his good-humored nature, he would be getting cranky soon because he was tired, and Aliaya rose to save Xenon from a baby's wrath. She approached the
red-haired man. As she neared them, Ruvan twisted toward her and reached for her. She took her son into her arms. He signed his newly learned "handsome" to her. She gave him a gentle squeeze and sent a happy, loving feeling down their link. He wrapped his chubby arms around her neck and lay his head on her shoulder.

Aya gave her full attention to Xenon. Giving a slight curtsy, she said, "Thank you, Good Man, for watching Ruvan. What you have done to clean and dress him is amazing. He looks just like a prince!" She smiled. She decided against asking him to help Darro right then. (He should be fine until tomorrow, or at least for the few hours I take a short nap.) "Again, I thank you," she said, waiting Xenon's acknowledgment and thinking wistfully of crawling into Dak's tent so she could feed her son and sleep.

From: Katie <kay_silversong@yahoo.com>

Kay Silversong sat quietly in the out-of-the-way corner of the camp that she had found. Winddancer sat beside her, silent for the first time in a long time. Kay watched as the camp erupted into quiet packing and defense. She noticed that the red-haired man found something amusing, and that the baby looked much nicer, almost like a miniature king or noble. The lizard-man announcement had made her wonder what a lizard-man was, but she didn't worry too much about it, because there were quite a few fighters going out of the camp or finding places to defend it. Kay stood up, and, ignoring her bondmate, wandered over to the woman standing near the battle-ready troll.

"What's going on? I have little knowledge of this area. I don't know what is dangerous. And also, if you are fighting some type of threat, I would like to be of aid. I am a fighter, with some magical ability. Not very reliable, but some. Please, could you give me some information?" Kay hoped that someone could tell her what was going on, because she was lost, having been tucked away in a corner to avoid causing any trouble.

From: Divine Knight Ámp <jpugh@bscn.com>


Meanwhile, on the other side of the world....

On his private island in the tropics, Tiamat, an Angel of the God Laoghaire, leaned against the trunk of a palm tree, sipped on his drink, and tried to forget that he was an Angel. (What was I _thinking_ when I agreed to take this position? When I was young, it seemed so glamorous; being in the direct service of Laoghaire, knowing things that no one else did...doing things I'd never even dreamed I'd be able to... ...and look at me-I'm a spiritual bureaucrat.) It had been nearly half a century since he'd been lifted to the ranks of the Angels, and it seemed as if he'd been going nonstop ever since then. His life seemed to be one continuous blur of appointing priests who had just taken their vows, reviewing church financial reports, and generally doing whatever he was ordered to do. This little vacation was the first he'd had some time off in a little over a year, and he intended to enjoy it.

And he was, at least until the Voice spoke in his head.

:::Tiamat, could you come up here? I need to speak to you for a moment...:::

(Wonderful,) he thought as he levered himself up off the sand and absentmindedly wiped his pants off. (Well, He _knows_ I'm supposed to be on vacation, if He's bothering me, it must be something moderately important...oh, buggerit.) Irritatedly, he flapped his cobalt-blue wings to get the sand out of them, whispered a quick prayer, and was absorbed
by a column of light.

He reappeared on a flat, artificial-looking plain of slate-gray stone, stretching off into the distance. Overhead, a few fat white clouds hung in the sky, being driven slowly towards the northeast. Although there were no landmarks of any kind, he instinctively knew which direction he wanted to go. He strode off at a brisk pace. (The sooner I get this over with, the sooner I can get back to the beach...hmm...wonder if I ought to order some more of those little umbrellas, I'm almost out...) He continued to walk, eventually coming to a huge bowl-shaped depression.

He leaped off the edge, using his wings to break his fall, and landed in a more-or-less dignified heap near the bottom. In the middle stood a statue, carved in marble, of a strange imp-looking kind of creature, complete with miniature pitchfork. It wore an amused grin. It was Laoghaire's manifestation on this level. Most of the other Angels assumed it was some kind of joke, but He had always refused to explain.

Tiamat nodded his head. "Lord? You wanted to talk to me?"

:::Yes,::: a completely normal, unremarkable voice spoke, seemingly from nowhere, :::I have something I may need you to do after while...I know you're on vacation right now, but I know you've been complaining that you seem to get all the boring tasks, so I thought you might like this one. I assume you know the story behind the Masamune?:::

He most certainly did. "Yes sir. It was stolen, what, about 12 years ago?"
:::Correct. And now, I've found it again. Or rather, your colleague Fallenangel did. It seems that one of our Divine
Knights...erm...borrowed it. I'm still not sure how, but he managed to hide it from Me. At any rate, they're both traveling with large party who intends to take down the resident dark mage in that part of the world, what's his name, Savar?
Mer-something Savar I think. She hasn't attempted to take it from him yet, which is probably wise, there's no telling what he could do with it if he knew how...Anyway. I'd like you to keep an eye on them. I'm not entirely sure I trust her judgement completely...and if somehow the demon tries to break out...well, you're a smart person, I'm sure you'll think of
something. Do you have any problems with this?:::

"No, no problem, sir. How soon do you want me to start?"

:::There's no immediate threat, and Our Knight is behaving docilely enough, so I imagine you can go ahead and finish your vacation....:::

"Thank you, sir."

Bowing once again, Tiamat began the trip back to the island. Resuming his seat underneath the palm tree, he thought about the situation. It certainly promised to be exciting, but...

He was so deep in his thoughts that he failed to notice the small army of sand ants carry off his lunch.

From "Axe" <tntgray@sprintmail.com>

Kang showed Xenon the fight, which Raven and Solarin were having with the lizard men and it was going pretty much as expected. That black magic blade was certainly slicing the lizard men like a master chef chopping a carrot. The elven ranger was living up to his reputation with two precision shots dealing with two of the sadly outmatched lizard men. Xenon doubted seriously that the last two were going to make much difference or make it to the clearing at this point, so the other dear young thing tripping lightly over to the troll was unlikely to be able to act as a significant second handicap on the troll for that reason. Xenon toyed with the idea of going to the effort of summoning up a few illusionary lizard men to give the other fighters some exercise and, coincidentally give him a chance to analyze their fighting styles and skills, but doubted it was worth the effort or would be appreciated as the obviously concerned and conscientious team effort it was.

Xenon shook his head to clear it of his musings and to dislodge one of the boy's fingers from his ear when he noticed the boy's mother rise to her feet and begin to make her way over to him.

::she has been picking up resonances of your thought through the shield you put on the boy Ruvan Xenon my own and her god or someone powerful just spoke to her and she comes now to retrieve her child:: Kang spoke into Xenon's mind, a careful sliding stream of verbal thought slipping along the sides of Xenon's own sensory impressions and the scenes of the forest battle Kang was already sending him. It had taken Xenon a while to learn to process several tracks of information correctly as part of his mage training, and Kang loved to transmit information that way, thus providing Xenon with a lot of
practice. Xenon quickly shielded off his thoughts from the boy and gave a moment to feeling both piqued at the woman's having been receiving his thoughts and interested that she seemed to have the power to do so, and that the boy was surely progressing quite young in his powers for this phenomena to have occurred as the woman arrived before him and spoke.

_(Snip)_Ruvan twisted toward her and reached for her. She took her son into her arms. He signed his newly learned "handsome" to her. She gave him a gentle squeeze and sent a happy, loving feeling down their link. He wrapped his chubby arms around her neck and lay his head on her shoulder.

Aya gave her full attention to Xenon. Giving a slight curtsy, she said, "Thank you, Good Man, for watching Ruvan. What you have done to clean and dress him is amazing. He looks just like a prince!" She smiled. She decided against asking him to help Darro right then. (He should be fine until tomorrow, or at least for the few hours I take a short nap.) "Again, I thank you," she said, waiting Xenon's acknowledgment and thinking wistfully of crawling into Dak's tent so she could feed her son and sleep_(Snip)_.

Xenon almost smiled as the cultured tones and phrasing of a Lady came forth from the woman who looked like she had been the grapes in a wine press with dusty footed peasants singing jolly songs as they trod her till the juice ran for just a bit too long. He didn't bother to be righteously offended that she called him "Good Man" like a common innkeep and it didn't look like she would catch any sarcasm less subtle than that employed by postulant gutter lepers in their search for rats at present, so he replied simply and clearly.

"My Title, dear Lady," Xenon replied, feeling just a touch of pity for this poor court creature so out of her element and thus letting a touch of a smile of sympathy cross his lips, "would be 'Lord' and not 'Good Man'. I take no offense however," he said rising as he did so and putting a hand gently to her shoulder, summoning the creative magic that came so easily to him, the light cousin to his darker powers.

"And I thank you for your compliment as to my choice of fashion for this delightful little fellow and I hope you will accept these modest things with my compliments. As for his being a Prince, with that sword in evidence "Xenon said much more quietly, "I assume he _is_ one. That being so, I could not but render assistance to his mother as well and so with your
permission?"

Xenon continued letting the magic flow without waiting for the poor tired noblewoman to reply even as he spoke, quickly and painlessly rejuvenating color and adding style to the dusty ill fitting clothes she had on while repairing rents and tatters in an instant. A few quickly palmed silver coins added a delicate and noble touch to these new garments and a touch of ladies perfume likewise palmed and combined with a trifle of cleaning magic gave the Lady a healthy glow, clean teeth and flesh and nails and hair and a fresh clean scent. She looked much more presentable if not truly ready for court and he topped of her ensemble of now green dress, soft under chemise, soft shoes with stiff leather soles, and belt with purse with a silken hair ribbon of bright green to match the dress and her red hair and green eyes.

"And thus, for my assistance rendered your fine little fellow and for these trifles for yourself you are most certainly welcome, and if there is aught I can do in the future for you in like vein, please do not hesitate to inquire." Xenon stepped back away from the woman and executed a perfect court bow from the northern mountains area, leaving it generic enough to be from several of the Courts in the region while conveying acknowledgement of her rank from a near equal/equal. He then stood, regal and appropriate in bearing to be soothing as he awaited her reply.

From: "Raven Darkblade" <abbykat@hotmail.com>

Raven dodged a spear-thrust easily and faced off the remaining two lizard-men. One of them swung its axe down at her head, and she blocked it with the Darkblade, the head of the axe shattering against the gleaming black blade of her sword. In a swift, liquid motion she ran the surprised lizard through, then whirled about and dealt the other a solid
blow to the snout with the pommel. In another handful of breaths, she severed any relationship that last lizard-man's head had with its shoulders, and deftly sidestepped the falling carcass.

"Well," she commented dryly, "that was fairly pointless."

Solarin dropped gracefully out of a nearby tree. "Fairly," he agreed. "Shall we go rejoin the others now?"

She calmly wiped blackish blood from her sword with the much-stained rag she reserved for that purpose. "Just a moment. Let me catch my breath."

He quirked a slight grin, for if Raven was at all winded she certainly wasn't showing it. "Of course."

Sheathing the Darkblade, Raven leaned against a tree, only to leap back, startled, when the limp body of a man fell from the branches above her and hung suspended by a set of ropes. "Bloody hell!"

Solarin strode quickly over to investigate. "Dead."

Indeed, the dangling form was quite dead--apparently rather painfully so, judging by the numerous messy gashes in his flesh. Raven straightened, her face hardening to a stony mask as she examined the corpse. "I know this man."

Solarin lifted a brow, turning to her. "You do?"

With a sharp gesture of a hand, she produced a knife from a wrist-sheath and cut the silver medallion from the dead man's neck. "This is a challenge," she said tersely. She didn't look at her partner, instead staring past the mutilated body into the forest. "That gods-cursed sadistic bastard is challenging me."

He knew immediately what she intended to do. "Are you mad? You can't go there alone; he'll kill you."

"You of all people should know better," Raven snapped, turning fierce eyes on him. "This man was under my protection, and somehow Savar knew it. I'm going to kill him." Abruptly she wheeled and leaped off to the campsite at a run. Solarin bolted after her.

He didn't catch up with her until she'd stopped and was tightening Banshee's girth. "I'll come with you."

"No you won't. I'm going alone."

"The hell you are."

"I haven't got time to argue with you, Solarin." Her tone was flat. He knew that if he persisted, she'd knock him unconscious if she had to.

He sighed exasperatedly. "All right." He seized the bag of spellspheres. "Take these with you. You'll need them a fair sigh more than I will."

Raven shook her head, vaulting into Banshee's saddle. "Savar shouldn't get his hands on them."

Catching her reins, Solarin answered pointedly, "So use them all before he gets a chance."

She paused for a moment, looking down at him. Finally she took the little pack and slung it over her shoulders. "Right," she said with a crooked grin.

He leaned up to open the pack and retrieve one specific sphere. "Start with this one," he told her, handing her the delicate globe containing the Road of Swiftness spell. "And in Siliel's name, be careful!"

Raven saluted him, then wheeled Banshee around and hurled the spellsphere to the ground at the warmare's forefeet. A silvery path shot forth in the direction of the Citadel in a glissando of elven magic.

"Hai!" Raven's hand came down on Banshee's flank. The ghost-grey steed leaped onto the silver path--then it, Raven, and the horse were gone.

Mor settled on his shoulder. Suddenly angry, Solarin ordered, "Follow her!" The raven croaked and lifted into the sky in a flurry of black wings.

From: "Dax" <tntgray@sprintmail.com>

Dakorillon resheathed his sword when he realized there were already plenty of people ready to fight and only two heading out. (No need to go to any extra effort on my part.)

He glanced back in time to see Aliaya stand and walk over to Xenon. He wasn't sure whether to be jealous or relieved. When Xenon began magically fixing up her clothing, something Dak barely had the power to do, and making it princess perfect, he knew it was jealousy that set his teeth on edge. Then with a shrug he thought to himself. (Xenon has more power in his little finger than you do in your whole body, old boy. Of course, the ladies are always attracted to power. And his 'I could care less' attitude always brings them in closer. Why is it that people like to suffer?)

He was disturbed from his musing by the sound of a body crashing none too quietly through the brush and nearly drew his sword again, until he glimpsed the elven ranger following his human companion come bursting from the woods. She raced over and began saddling her steed, but made no comment to the rest of the camp that danger was nigh. (What in the name of Luck and Love is going on?)

Dakorillon brushed his bangs back out of his eyes as he moved closer to hear, the elf was clearly agitated and the human clearly furious.

<snip>
"I haven't got time to argue with you, Solarin." Her tone was flat.

He sighed exasperatedly. "All right." He seized the bag of spellspheres. "Take these with you. You'll need them a fair sigh more than I will."
<snip>

(She's leaving him and in a hurry, too. Why isn't he going with her? To let such a fair maiden go alone into battle is a coward's cloak. Surely, one so attached as he, will follow her, no matter her protestations?) Dakorillon broke off his thoughts as he heard.

<snip>"Hai!" Raven's hand came down on Banshee's flank. The ghost-grey steed leaped onto the silver path--then it, Raven, and the horse were gone. <snip>

The raven settled on the elf's shoulders for a moment, then the elf, (Solarin, she said), told the raven to follow her and it flew off, leaving Solarin staring at her path and the camp speechless. Dakorillon moved quickly to the elf's side.

"Why did you let her ride off alone, Soul-Mate that she is? How could you look at yourself in a mirror in the morn, knowing that she's alone in grave danger, as could be seen from the anger in her face? And how will you live if she dies and you are not at her side? Do not let a woman's vapors emasculate you, cousin, ride, ride, you belong at her side. You've made your bed, and though roses have thorns, they can be ignored if one concentrates on the sweet smell of them. Let not your mind dictate your heart, love is more important than all and every moment should be savored, every moment you are away from her is lost in the uncaring ocean of time." Dak finished his impassioned speech and picked up Solarin's saddle and handed it to him.

"Go, cousin, we follow you, and fear not for the camp, the innocents here will be guarded, fly on the wings of love."

From: Adrienne <ametz@u.arizona.edu>

"My Title, dear Lady," Xenon replied, feeling just a touch of pity for this poor court creature so out of her element and thus letting a touch of a smile of sympathy cross his lips, "would be 'Lord' and not 'Good Man'. I take no offense however," he said rising as he did so and putting a hand gently to her shoulder, summoning the creative magic that came so easily to him, the light cousin to his darker powers.

Aliaya felt suitably abashed at having made such a mistake. Part of her rearing had included endless "classes" on determining the status of a person, and addressing him as such. She could see clearly now his title would be "Lord." Before she could apologized, he continued.

"And I thank you for your compliment as to my choice of fashion for this delightful little fellow and I hope you will accept these modest things with my compliments. As for his being a Prince, with that sword in evidence "Xenon said much more quietly, "I assume he _is_ one. That being so, I could not but render assistance to his mother as well and so with your permission?"

Again, before Aya could say a word, addressing either Ruvan's rank or his offer of assistance, Lord Xenon had changed her tattered dress into a gorgeous green gown with a chemise and soft shoes. She was pleased with the change, albeit concerned that now she became even more anomalous in this group. She also worried that travel in such clothes would be
difficult. He spoke again before giving her a chance to respond.

"And thus, for my assistance rendered your fine little fellow and for these trifles for yourself you are most certainly welcome, and if there is aught I can do in the future for you in like vein, please do not hesitate to inquire." Xenon stepped back away from the woman and executed a perfect court bow from the northern mountains area, leaving it generic enough to be from several of the Courts in the region while conveying acknowledgement of her rank from a near equal/equal. He then stood, regal and appropriate in bearing to be soothing as he awaited her reply.

Aya smiled at his courtly bow, and his not-so stoic expression. It was clear to her that he was quite pleased with himself. It reminded her of her father. He used to try to hide his smile and appear so regal. It never fooled her mother or her.

She took a deep breath. Ruvan had calmed down. He began to nod off drowsily, even without his usual meal. Aliaya considered. Xenon's change of her clothes had lightened her exhaustion. She could probably hold Ruvan for awhile until she had a more convenient time to feed him, and he wouldn't complain. Quickly, she changed her mind about asking for Xenon's help with Darro.

"My Lord," she began, "I do greatly appreciate what you have done for both I and my son. It is too generous of you and I feel I should pay you for this. Unfortunately, I have only a few things to my name at this time, so on my word, I will repay you at some time." She paused. "I also would like to mention that your assessment of Ruvan as a Prince is ...close. You
should be aware that you are the only one privy to that information at this time." She leaned closer to him. "I would rather the fewer who knew, the better." Returning to her original distance, she continued, "I do have a request of you. I probably should not ask because of how generous you have already been. But there is a young man over there near the fire. He
seems to have some sort of evil presence in his mind. I spent the whole evening working on Mind-Healing him. While what I have done should last some time, unless the presence is removed, he will revert to the mess he was before. I cannot remove the presence. I don't have a Power to do that. When I was Healing him, I ran across an image of you. Considering what you have already done for Dakorillon, Ruvan, and myself, I was hoping that you would extend your kindness to helping him."

She smiled sweetly, half-hoping he would agree and they could finish their business and half-hoping he would not, so she could get her deserved rest.

From: Karen Chan <kkchan@ozemail.com.au>

_Thwack!_ Ethan dodged low as his partner's wooden pole struck swiftly through the air where his head had been only moments before. He struck out with his own, hoping to catch the side of Cairo's ankles, but she leaped, used her pole to vault over him - a fiery projectile bolting through the blue - and landed only a short distance away, collected and ready to attack once more.

He smiled inwardly. He had anticipated her move and now he rushed at her before she had commenced her assault. He struck out - using his pole as extra reach - and she was forced to move backwards to dodge the blow, almost overbalancing in surprise. Ethan did not hesitate; he took full use of his one-second advantage, and heaved his body at her, hoping to pin her beneath his weight when she fell. But he had not been watching closely enough - her pole swung upwards and impacted with his with enough force to cause it to spin out of his hands, clattering to the ground way out of his reach.

He immediately dove for hers, gripping her left forearm and twisting it, his other hand reaching for the shaft. She threw the weapon away and brought her knee up to meet his groin but he shifted away, avoiding collision, and tried to use his weight to bring her down. She tumbled but rolled away easily out of his grasp, leaping to her feet and plunging towards him once again. He darted away and reached for his pole, heaving it away so that it became entangled with her legs in mid-flight. She crashed on the dirt and he leaped on top of her, ready to deliver the final blow.

The whistle blew.

"Ethan - good; you're getting better at thinking on your feet," said the arms master as Ethan climbed off Cairo's prostrate body and the rest of the platoon applauded solemnly. "Cairo - even if you do have a phallic fixation, don't stake your victory on a blow to the groin area." The arms master circled the girl and then delivered a hard kick to her lower pelvis.
"You should be thinking up more subtle maneuvers to floor your opponent," he said impassively, watching her double over. "Take a break, both of you, then I want thirty somersaults off the western wall. Now - Roget and Ophelia - take their places."

Ethan retrieved the poles and tossed them to the next pair who separated themselves from the rest of the Trackers and strode out into the ring. Cairo stood up rather shakily and moved away towards the southern colonnade. He caught up with her as she reached the water troughs.

"Are you all right?" he said in an undertone. She had undone the top two buttons of her blouse and now she bent down and splashed her face, rubbing away the dirt on her face and neck. He touched her elbow. "Cairo?"

"I'm fine - I'm fine." She moved away from his hand. "He's right. You're getting better."

"It was a fluke victory," but he was flushing slightly anyway. He cupped his hands in the water and brought them up to his lips to drink, hoping that she wouldn't notice. She wasn't looking at him. She was staring into the cool of the shadows, her hand moving up and down the inside of her collar, massaging her right shoulder.

"Well, it's your first," she said rather distantly.

He leaned back against one of the columns, closed his eyes, let the afternoon sun soak into his skin and did not reply.

_Thwack! Thwack!_ The sound of wood on wood echoed around the courtyard. Ethan could hear Roget yelling obscenities at Ophelia to intimidate her into submission. He could hear the arms master's sharp rebuke - "Silence,
Roget; you should rely on the strength of your footwork rather than the strength of your mouth," - and the absence of voices which followed. And if he strained his ears, he could hear low murmurs from the classrooms in the west wing as students stood up to recite their lessons, or teachers barked out orders, punctuated with the slapping of wooden canes.

As his breathing slowed and the sweat evaporated off his skin, Ethan secretly reveled in his victory. He imagined his hands grasping the wooden pole again - turning and throwing it outwards in one fluid movement. He saw Cairo fall, her legs buckled under her, the tip of her braid flying up, then following her plunging body. Applause rang in his ears. He couldn't help but smile and this time he did not try to contain it.

"Do you think that Kirin ever lost a sparring match?"

The clapping ceased. He opened his eyes and gave her a dirty look.

"Well, she was only human." His tone was dry and he hoped that she wouldn't pursue the matter.

"But she was Kirin... Kirin Caolaidhe. She could do anything." Cairo stared at her partner. He had shut his eyes again and seemed to not have heard what she said. She had the sudden urge to clout him in the belly, but she repressed it and spoke calmly. "I mean, what did the stories say? They say she killed her partner. She slashed his throat and dis-embowelled him. Right there on the floor of their room... a pool of blood slowly seeping out under the door."

"Believe what you want, Cairo; I don't particularly care if she did or she didn't. She's a myth." Ethan didn't open his eyes as his spoke.

"She was real."

"Whatever."

"She was."

"Pig fat."

"She was," said a new voice, deep and resonant. Ethan nearly jumped. He opened his eyes and turned to see a young man several years older than themselves leaning over the water trough in front of Cairo, splashing his torso with water. He was naked from the waist up - his skin smooth and hairless - and wore nothing but breeches, but Ethan immediately noticed that the breeches were finer than their own, and that the sprinkling of scars along his muscular arms and chest were an indication that he had probably participated in real military warfare at some stage.

The stranger straightened up and smiled charmingly at Cairo, brushing back his dark hair with one hand. "She was real," he said. "I knew her - she was several years older than I was, but she was already a legend in her own time."

"What was she like?" Cairo gripped the edge of the water trough and stared at the young man with unfeigned interest. "Did she ever lose a sparring match?"

"She did." He laughed at her disappointed look. "She was... only human." His eyes glanced briefly over to where Ethan stood. "But nevertheless she was very good - one of the Collegiate's finest. She would run private classes of her own to train her followers - usually very early in the morning, or in the evenings before curfew. The wardens left her alone...
most of the time... when she wasn't in trouble." He paused and sized Cairo up, taking her in from head to foot. "I can tell you more... perhaps tonight? I'm staying overnight in the Collegium."

Ethan stiffened. He glanced at Cairo in her disheveled, tendrils of hair sticking out all over her head, her shirt collar open far enough to hint at the swelling of her tender breasts. The stranger seemed to hold her glance for a moment before dropping his eyes to that aperture.

"Oh...." Cairo's hands fumbled with the buttons. She looked flushed suddenly and her hands were too clumsy.

"Let me." The stranger reached out to help, his fingers lingering for a brief moment over her skin. "I remember these shirts," he said. "Impossible to keep stainless... always a little too rough against the body...." He smiled at Cairo as he finished with the last button. "So. How about dinner? The orderlies bring it around at seven and I have never gotten used to eating alone." His hand moved onto her left upper arm... down to her elbow... onto her waist... the small of her back....

Cairo held his gaze with hers. Then she reached down and yanked up the trough, tipping it towards him. Water splashed all over the floor of the colonnade - missing the young man's feet as he leaped dexterously over to the other side to avoid the onslaught of the flood. He landed behind Cairo, laughing, as the arms master hurried up, a black look plastered across the old man's face. Immediately the apprentices straightened, faced their mentor and stood at attention.

"Ethan, Cairo - you're supposed to be at the western wall doing somersaults. Do you want me to assign you both to bathhouse orderlies?"

The stranger held up his hand. "My fault," he said to the arms master. "I was trying to teach them a new maneuver... but obviously I overestimated their athletic ability." He smiled his winning smile. "I should not have presumed; I could not possibly fill your shoes."

The arms master snorted. "She'll not sleep with you, I know that much, Dartagnan." He eyed the apprentices with disdain. "Right - both of you to the western wall. Fifty somersaults before grammar class. I'll be watching; if you fail to meet my requirements, I'll assign you to the bathhouse."

"Yes sir," murmured the pair. The arms master grunted and strode away. Dartagnan gazed after him, an expression of amusement playing on his lips.

"We'd better get started." Ethan touched Cairo's arm lightly. She nodded in agreement and they moved towards the western wall. As they passed the young man, he leaned towards her and whispered:

"South-east classroom. Back cupboard. You'll find your proof there in black ink."

Cairo looked back at him and he flashed a grin at her before returning to the shadows of the colonnade. Around the courtyard the sound of wood striking wood echoed off the sandstone edifice. Most of the apprentices were practicing somersaults or stretching their limbs in the dirt. The ring around the pole fight had lessened and the arms master was splitting up another pair of Trackers to address their mistakes. Cairo joined Ethan at the western wall. Together they ran up towards it and flipped their bodies over to land squarely in the dirt.

"One," said Ethan.

"One," echoed Cairo.

And the afternoon sun moved on over their tumbling bodies.

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