Niari woke the next morning with a headache.  Some awful little dog
had been barking all night and the bed had been much too soft for her
liking.  She had tried the floor but found that she could not fall
asleep there either.  Something was nagging her at the back of her mind
like a forgotten melody, it would not make itself known.
     Sitting up, she threw off the fluffy comforter that had been
wrapped about her like a cocoon.  Walking across the cold floor was
refreshing and she pulled a bit of energy from the stones beneath her. 
It was more envigorating than a bath in a mountain waterfall and since
there were no mountains in the area, it was for the best anyway. 
     With memories of the tall peaks of Kioshu blazing in her mind, she
crossed to the old chair, over which she had tossed her underclothes
from the day before, and proceeded to redress, sending the feminine
night shift flying through the air and onto the cursed bed.  Perhaps she
could have a straw bed set up in the corner...and as she dressed, she
wondered what the Baron would have in store for them today.  A meeting
of tactical advisors, no doubt, concerning their next move.  She hoped
Therion would remember to release her from her contract in time to get
the n'Sete back to their Plains ne'arhu.  She would hate to have to
remind him...though he would probably have some fancy dinner arranged to
celebrate their victory and homecoming.  Niari scowled.  If he thought
she was going to come in one of those dresses in the closet, he was
setting himself up for disappointment!
     She finished dressing and regarded herself in the metallic surface
of the dressing mirror.  She was a mess.  Her breast plate missing,
clothing still streaked in places with dried blood, her shirt torn in a
most disgraceful manner, hair clean but wildly uncombed.  Yes, her
reflection was more a nighmare than any "sweet vision" of Kioshu
romantic prose.  The Gods only knew where her knapsack was with her one
remaining change of clothes...Just then, a knock at the door sounded as
she felt a human presence.  Opening the door a crack, she saw two
servant women timidly waiting for permission to enter.  Between them
rested a trunk.  This could be interesting.  Niari opened the door and
waved them inside.
     "The good Baron sent these things fer ye, milady," said one middle-
aged woman with greying hair.  "'E thought ye might be needing sumthin'
=91sides what ye 'ave got in that closet..."  Niari smiled broadly at the=

irony of the morning and opened the chest.  Inside was a cloak, hose,
two pairs of breeches, three linen blouses, a blanket, one grey kirtle,
deerskin boots, a shift and a leather tunic.  In the compartments above
she found a brush, hair pins and a silver mirror as well as other
acutrements.  What a bounty!  She certainly could not fault the Baron
for his timing or his thoroughness!  She thanked the women and closed
the door behind them.  After donning a pair of green hose, a white
blouse and the soft black leather tunic she felt quite at home.  With
the silver brush, she straightened her long hair quickly and plaited it
into a knot at the base of her skull, then slipped on the deerskin boots
and went into the hall.
     The other doors in the hallway were all closed but Niari knew she
could not be the only one besides the servants awake so early.  Humming
a tuneless song, she found her way to the kitchens and had a hearty
breakfast, much to the dismay of the staff who politely tried to hide
their amazement at the amount of food this thin "Lady" could eat! 
Afterwards, she wandered the hallways of the castle until she felt
comfortable with the layout and turned to hunt down the Baron.
     Along the way, she passed the dining hall and found many of their
party dining happily on cakes and bacon.  The elves were doing their
best with the course human fare.  Elana was among them, sitting with her
brother and the others.  Niari smiled and sat down beside her, grabbing
a green apple from the bowl of fruit in the center of the table.
     "My Lords...Lady Elana.  Bright day to you all."
     Niari noticed that Lorendil was not among them.  Then, she felt his
presence enter the hall.  He looked very somber and avoided her eyes,
though he seemed to be aware of her.  Interesting.  Elana looked up and
then down again as the elven Lord sat at the end of the table and began
to converse softly with Eldarion.  Elana had an odd expression on her
face...also interesting.  This was the second time she had noticed the
Lady seem to close up at his appearance.  Niari glanced back at Lorendil
who ate sparingly and then pushed his plate away, still laden with sweet
cakes and honey.  Now he did meet her gaze but with cold, tired eyes. 
She was surprised to find that it bothered her to see him this way.  In
another moment he was gone and she returned to her conversation with
Elana, who became more animated upon his departure...
---k
     Elana still did not trust her feelings when it came to Lorendil. 
With all that had happened, she had not the time to think on this
strange elf.  But she knew that she would have to.  But not here, not
now.  Instead, she turned to her friend Niari.
     "It is so good to see you have recovered, Niari.  I was *so*
worried, but I stayed away lest my null affect the healing processes my
brother and...Lorendil were attempting," she said with a pleasant smile.
---je
     The Kioshu warrior smiled back but inside she felt a strangeness in
the words.  She wondered, in a moment of insight, if the Lady Elana were
not in fact somewhat upset by Lorendil's assistance the day past.  What
was between these two?
---k
     Eldarion, upon Lorendil's departure, had stood, and taking his
plate, moved down to join the two women.  "Indeed, Niari.  I share my
sister's happiness that you are still among us.  It was touch and go
there for a while.  I was beginning to think you had decided to go
beyond..."
---je
     Niari smiled and lowered her eyes.  She knew what was coming!
---k
     Elana jabbed her elbow into her brother's ribs, and gave him a
stern look for his bluntness.  Eldarion looked at his sister and arched
an eyebrow.  "What have I done *now*?"
---je
     She chuckled a little at the good-natured sibling interaction.  At
one time, she had fought with her brother that way as well.  She moved a
finger to cover her lips so they would not think her rude.
---k
     Elana just shook her head, a bemused look upon her face.  "Where is
Zeph?  Is she still following Vengar around like a lost puppy?"
     Eldarion had just taken a bite out of a sweet cake.  "I don't
<munch> know.  I haven't seen her in..."  he was just about to take
another bite, when he saw that his sister was looking at him, then
flicked her eyes away.  It took a moment, but her hidden message sunk
in.  "...Ah, yes.  I believe I will go look for our dear cousin.  If you
will excuse me...Elana...Lady Niari..."
---je
     Niari placed a hand over his before he left.  "My thanks to you,
Lord Eldarion for your assistance yesterday..." she smiled and was
delighted to see the elf shrug off her serious tone and nod, embarrased. =

He was a handsome man.  If he hadn't been engaged with Joreen...but he
was.  She removed her hand and smiled again in a friendly manner.  Her
head still pounded with the headache and the smile was an effort.
---k
     Making sure to take his two remaining sweetcakes, Eldarion left the
table to look for Zeph.  Elana turned to continue her conversation with
Niari when Joreen entered the dining hall.  "Excuse me, Elana.  Have you
seen your brother?  He was *supposed* to join me at breakfast out in the
gardens.  I've been waiting near half an hour, and I now believe he
forgot our...date."  The Legentor Lanceleader was still somewhat
uncomfortable about her new found relationship with Eldarion.
---je
     The warrior grinned.  The two of them were perfect together...
---k
     Elana smiled at Joreen, and pointed to the doorway through which
Eldarion had left.  Joreen smiled and thanked the both of them, then
left through the very same doorway.
     Elana turned back to Niari, a big grin on her face.  Stiffling a
laugh, she said, "Now then....where were we?"
---je
     "Discussing the goings on of this day, I believe," said Niari,
taking her cue from Eldarion and munching on a sweet cake.  If she
didn't leave this table soon, she'd have to roll out of the hall!
     "Where is our good Baron?"
---k
     After speaking with Elana and the others, which included an
informal but very sincere expression of her gratitude to the Baron for
providing them all with such an excellent repast (and a toast to his
good health), Niari left the dining hall in search of Lorendil.  She
could not help but feel that his worn appearance might be due to the
energy he had expended the day before for her benefit.  Essaut had waved
to her as she made her way for the exit and she had nodded and made a
sign for "Later."
     Lorendil was not in the castle.  A quick search told her that.  She
reached out and felt him nearby...still in Chadwick...ah, there.  He was
outside.  She followed the threads of his energy until she came to the
outer wall of the courtyard but did not immediately see him.  Looking
up, she spotted movement on one of the parapets and jogged up the wide
stone steps until she came to an archway which sheltered part of the
walk atop the wall.  At the end of the walk was a door leading into the
western tower.  It was closed.  She knocked.
     "Lord Lorendil?" she queried, regarding the wooden door as if it
might dissolve into the shape of the elven Lord.  "May I speak with
you?"  Niari thought she heard a sigh come from the other side of the
door
which opened quietly as if moved by the wind.  Stepping inside, she
spied Therion's friend leaning against the wall on the far side of an
open window.  He was gazing out at the sky, which was still touched with
pink morning light.  She cleared her thoat and he turned his head to
her.
     Niari suddenly felt like an intruder.  "Forgive me for disturbing
you, my Lord Lorendil.  I only wished to thank you for your assistance
yesterday..."  She could not finish.  He looked so distant and disarmed.
     "Are you quite well, my Lord?"  She took a step towards him.
---k

     It had been a fitful night for Lorendil.  When he did finally awake
from the tortuous "slumber" (which was entirely unrestful for the man),
he felt the first pangs.  He knew it would be coming soon, and hoped
that it wouldn't strike at a critical moment.  He was very thankful that
they hadn't.
     Still, he would have to do something about them, as he knew from
decades and centuries of experience that they would not go away until
sated.  He wondered how long he had before he lost control.  A day?  Two
days?  Only a few hours?  There was no way to know for sure.  He
couldn't risk being here when it finally struck.  Even the best outcome
would be unacceptable to him, and the worst outcome was unthinkable.  He
would have to slip away for a while until he could resolve his Hunger.
     Lorendil was finally able to dress himself and head for the kitchen
and some breakfast, if he could stomach it.  He was not himself.  His
usually neatly-arrayed attire was carelessly donned, and his normally
courtly demeanor was disheveled.  He was in no mood for the usual
pleasantries.  He hated when the Hunger came, for the image he worked so
hard to establish and maintain was usually destroyed almost
instantaneously.  More times than he could count it meant his leaving
for another area, another town, another group of people who had not seen
him this way.  He dearly hoped that it would not happen again, not with
these people.  Not with...
     Quickly gathering his thoughts and banishing what was almost on his
mind, he made his way through the halls and found the kitchen.  Before
he got there, he knew Niari was already there.  He didn't know how he
knew, just that he did, and he was right.  Carefully avoiding her gaze,
he sat at the far end of the table, next to Eldarion.  The Legentor
Captain seemed to be in a spirited mood, and Lorendil let the elf jabber
away about things he cared little about.  The food he had selected might
have been quite enjoyable at any other time, but now tasted bland and
lifeless.  It was another side-effect of the Hunger.  After only a few
bites, another pang hit.
     Lorendil's gut felt like it was imploding.  While he showed no
outward sign of the pain he was experiencing, inside he was being torn
in half.  He flexed his magicks to add further shielding in case anyone
else was observing him and to keep them from noticing his condition. 
When the pain subsided, he pushed his plate away and got up to leave. 
His eyes betrayed him, and turned to see Niari.  She was looking back at
him, and for a brief moment they locked gazes.  He was too tired to
protest, but another pang reminded him that he had to get away from the
others.  He broke contact and quickly left.
---m

     Baron Therion had enjoyed the evening;  his own suite, a soft bed,
a small fire on the hearth...and good food, well prepared and served. 
More, there had been the most excellent company;  friends proven upon
the forge of desperate battles to be worthy of trust.
     It was a bit frustrating that Niari would depart for a time; 
Chadwick needed her skills badly.  Still, he had agreed to defer her
assumption of office, and he would certainly honor his word in spirit as
well as the letter.
     Breakfast had been another treat.  The rigors of battle had
certainly shrunk Therion's waistline;  perhaps the one good that had
flowered from all the trouble.  He preferred not to think about the
number of good people who had been hurt and killed by Soros;  it would
be many years before time had begun to erase some of the damage.  Still,
there was respite at least for a time; he enjoyed visiting with his
friends and guests.
     It had been apparent that Lorendil was not acting normally; and,
though his talent in mind magic was such that nothing came through to
Therion, it took no magic to tell that there was a problem.  He
followed, and upon finding Lorendil said, "I can tell you are
discomfited by some trouble;  you have helped me and my subjects at our
time of greatest need, and have placed me deeply in your debt.  Will you
not permit me to aid you now?"
---d
     Lorendil, though tired and in great discomfort, smiled back at the
Baron.  "Your concern for me is very touching, Lord Therion.  And I do
appreciate your offer of assistance.  But, this is something that I
alone must resolve.  Please forgive me if this seems particularly rude
or distrustful, as that is not the intent.  This is merely something
that I choose not to trouble others with, as is my perogative.  Thank
you for your kindness."
     As Therion turned to go, Lorendil placed his hand on the Baron's
shoulder.  As he turned to face the elf, Lorendil said, "I do ask that
you do one thing for me, though.  Please, mention this to no *one*!" 
Therion could see in his eyes a serious earnest, and, was that a hint of
fear?
---m
     Therion could tell Lorendil was keeping something hidden;  yet, as
the elf had pointed out, it was his right.  Therion replied, "As you
prefer.  But, if you change your mind..." leaving the details of the
offer unspoken. 
---d
     Lorendil longed for isolation.  It always soothed his pain when he
could get away and concentrate on easing it, at least until he had
figured out what he would do this time.  Looking about him, he noticed a
lonely tower off to the west.  It looked nice and secluded.
     He dashed up a flight of steps to the top of the wall around the
castle, and quickly made his way across the catwalk to the tower's door. =

Opening it, he startled two guards who were looking out an arched window
across the countryside, obviously on watch.
     After a brief hesitation, one finally recognized him and said,
"Lord Lorendil!  We didn't expect you here!"
     Lorendil himself was surprised at there presence, but realized that
it was not entirely unexpected.  His wits were not with him today. 
Breaking his silence, his first words of the day were, "Get out."
     The two guards looked confused, and did so at each other.  Then,
the one who had first spoken said, "Uh...yes, sir.  If you say so." 
They hesitantly made for the door Lorendil had opened, and he stood
aside to let them pass.  Then he entered, and closed and locked the door
behind him.
     He made his way over to a small table flanked by two simple, wooden
chairs, and collapsed in one of them.  Looking through the window, he
could see that the tower offered an excellent view of the surrounding
lands.  It was an excellently placed watch tower.  He then realized that
he was doing the Baron a great disservice by dismissing his guards and
possibly leaving the castle open to attack.  He decided to fill the roll
in his isolation.  It was the least he could do for the Strong One.
     Getting up, he walked gingerly to the window.  His whole body was
beginning to ache...the Hunger was coming quickly this time.  Leaning
against the side, he looked out where the guards had been a few moments
ago.  It was truly a majestic sight!  Even after the desecration by
Soros and Aureliano, Chadwick
was a beautiful city and country!  He could only imagine what it had
looked like in its full splendor, and hoped that the good Baron would be
able to restore it to its former glory.  He could hear the birds
singing, and somewhere distant was a cow and other farm animals, also
greeting the new day.  It was, in fact, quite a nice morning, and had he
been feeling better he might have considered taking a walk.  Instead, he
just marvelled at what he saw.  Taking in the scene, he breathed deeply
and relaxed a moment, feeling mildly better than he had all morning.
     The quiet solitude of the watch tower was interrupted by a knock,
followed by a voice.  It was Niari, and she was asking for him.
     Lorendil was not ready to face the Kioshu warrior now!  It had been
a heart-wrenching decision the night before to bury his feelings for the
woman, and now the Hunger was returning.  It was not the best of times
to talk with her, but he knew he couldn't refuse her request without
arousing suspicion.  Reluctantly, he agreed to speak with her.
     Still gazing out the window at the beautiful morning sky, he
sighed, then magically unlocked and opened the door.  She entered
cautiously and silently.  When Niari cleared her throat, he turned to
face her.
     She started to talk, but another pang hit him.  They were steadily
getting worse, and it was all he could do to keep from breaking.  He
maintained his composure completely, but missed everything that she had
said.  He hoped it hadn't been too important.
     "Are you quite well, my Lord?"  She took a step towards him.
     Mustering all his strength, he answered.  "I am fine, m'lady, thank
you for asking."  His voice belied the tremendous strain that he was
suffering.  "Now, what was it that brought you here this fine morning?" 
He smiled at her warmly, hiding the turmoil going on in his body.
---m
     Niari was confused.  Why would he try to hide his pain from her? 
Was he embarrased or stoic or just stubborn?  Whatever the reason, it
was not her place to interfere...
     "I was saying that I wished to thank you for your aid this day
past.  I've been told that you saved my life..."  Let him think she
hadn't seen the events as they unfolded.  Perhaps she would learn
something about him by allowing him to give her the details as he saw
them.
     A small part of her scowled at the warrior's tactic.  It was the
female side of her voicing it's disapproval of her actions in the
presence of a man who did not deserve her mistrust, especially now when
he was so obviously not well.  Nevertheless, she awaited his response,
her face betraying only a slight shadow of concern...
---k
     Lorendil smiled shyly, his face turning only the slightest shade
more crimson.  Looking away from Niari, he said, "I would not lay all
the credit at my feet, m'lady.  I only supplied the energy with which to
do the healing, an energy that could hav come from any source.  It was
you who provided the knowledge of how to heal, where to heal, and Essaut
who provided me with more information about Kioshu physiology than I
possessed, thus allowing the energy transfer to occur.  I was but a part
of your recovery."
---m
     A smile passed over Niari's face and was gone.  These noblemen
could be so damned stoic.  She was slighly ashamed for having thought to
test him.  Still, she was pleased that he had not lied.
---k
     Then, turning back to her, "But, I thank you for your gratitude. 
Seeing you well again is really all the thanks that I require."  He
smiled, a caring, honest smile this time.  Another pang was growing.  He
really wanted to be alone, but he also didn't mind the company that
Niari offered.
---m
     "Your modesty hides not the truth, Lord Lorendil," she responded
with Kioshu court flattery.  "I am in your debt.  If there is anything
that you require in the future, I would be bound by Kioshu code to
provide it.  Indeed, I would be honored to provide it."  She walked to
the far wall of the chamber so as to see out of the large window without
coming too close to the elven Lord.  Perhaps he would confide the cause
of his illness to her if she stayed but a while longer.  If the elf, as
her ally, had a weakness, she wanted to know about it as much as she
wanted to know about any possible weak links in the chain of their
group.
     "It is a beautiful morning."  She said, directing her words to no
one in particular but knowing he would hear them.  They sounded stupid
and hollow as soon as they left her lips; even petty.  Luckily, Lorendil
was staring out the window again and did not seem to have heard.  She
decided to try a more direct approach.
     She took a slow breath and unfurled a few questing tendrils through
the air towards the elf.  Once in contact, she could feel an acidic fire
churning just beneath the surface.  He was struggling to maintain
control of it.  But what was it?  For the thousandth time, Niari wished
she had some kind of empathy or special perception.  She slipped a
tendril around the bitter energy and began a slow, gentle pull,
gratified to find that it moved, if unwillingly.  Unfortunately, it
would not leave his body.  All she could do was continue her hold and
provide a cushion between it and him.  Then, she realized that it was
breaking through, eating away at the contact she had made.  This stuff
was deeply ingrained in him...it *was* him.
     Releasing him was necessary to prevent the tainting of her own
energy.  As she withdrew, Niari saw Lorendil's face pale another shade. 
She felt so helpless.  What had she found?  Whatever it was disturbed
her greatly.
     At that moments, a bell sounded.  The deep sound rang across the
courtyard and travelled out over the coutryside where it drowned in the
horizon.  Some kind of summons perhaps?  Was Baron Therion finally ready
to meet with them?
     "Lord Lorendil?  Know you the meaning of that sound?" she querried.
     Absently, the elven Lord shook his head.
     "It may be a summons," Niari offered.  "I should find out..." 
Walking to the door, she cocked her head in Lorendil's direction to see
if he was coming.  He was not.  She left him there, stiffly surveying
the landscape to hide his inner pain.
     Crossing the couryard, she accosted a servant as to the whereabouts
of the Baron.  She had been right.  Her company had been requested a few
moments ago in the great hall.  Upon entering, she saw that a large
table had been brought in and several members of their party were seated
with the Baron around it's circumference.  Elana saw her enter, smiled,
and patted the empty seat next to her.  Niari accepted and sat down as
Therion launched into a recount of recent events and his fears
concerning what had occured...
---k

     After leaving Lorendil, Therion stood brooding over a small
cemetery housed at the far end of the gardens.  Small.  It had been
tiny, but it had tripled in size since he had left last.  Forming the
head of the cemetery were tombs and stones marking the resting place of
his beloved ancestry and their most beloved servants.  Now, surrounding
and overthrowing those ancient tombs were the sites of many fresh
graves.  Small wooden symbols were the sole markings of deceased
servants, Therion had consider his family.  They lay here in a now
crowded burial site, courtesy of none other than that treacherous Soros. =

May his soul rot in hell! Therion did not realize at that moment how
close his wish was in becoming.
     Quietly, a voice woke Therion from his guilt and sorrow.  It
belonged to an elderly man he could barely recognize.  The days under
Soros's care had taken there toll.  "Sir...dez been some hard dayz dat
past since you waz gone.  That Soros hid his true colorz well Sir -til
you waz gone anyway.  It weren't yer fault and those poor souls restin
here knowz dats de truet'.  Come inside.  Breakfast be waiten for you
and some talk has to be fort'comin to bringz you up to dates.=94
     The two men made there way slowly and sadly to the rear entrance of
the once happy castle.  Inside all the news of how Soros had mistreated
and killed those who refused to denounce Therion in his absence came
out.  For those who survived, the guilt on their faces was all to plain
to see.  Furthermore, news of the city's town folks loyalties were
brought into question.  There was after all a new church that had
denounced Therion as a traitor, but most folks, that is people who still
had a free mind, thought him innocent and supported him in secret. 
Something would have to be done about the existing church.
     Therion pondered hard on the situation.  His mind had wandered far
last night;  he had seen the annihilation of Aikikal.  Was this, then,
to be the fate of Ifreann?  And, his people would never really trust one
another again...the wounds would last for generations, unhealed and
bitter.  And, what *was* to be done about the Church?  If he took
action, the King's anger would not be restrained...the King would
declare him a traitor, and an outlaw.  He would certainly not be able to
help his people then.
     He spoke to the others...Eldarion, Vengar, Niari..his old friend,
General Nadeen...and sought their advice.  Amongst these few, who he
could trust with his life, he spoke frankly, "My friends, my position
her is tenuous at best.  Even now, in our victory, I dare not openly
defy the Church.  But, there are those who are willing to do so, even in
the very heart of the so-called Redeemer's empire.  For years, they have
sought the keys of mind magic...you, Vengar, know now the dangers of
misuse of such power...and, I believe that if I were to help them, they
would assist me now.  But I hesitate to call upon them...for they have
destroyed two cities already.  One, Marmaris, is not so very far from
here...the other, Aikikal in the far North, was a great seaport and
trading center.  I tell you, I have journeyed there, and neither exists
anymore.  How would you advise me?  And, if I do not call upon them,
what can be done to free this land of the evil of the Church, and the
accursed Redeemer?"
---d
     There was silence after Therion had posed the question, as everyone
contemplated the situation.  Vengar was the first to speak.
     "Lord Therion.  Speaking from a purely military standpoint, you
must weigh the benefits of giving these people who would resist the
Church the power of mindmagic with which to overthrow it against the
possible risk that they might then use this power against you.  You say
that they have already destroyed two cities in their entirety.  I think
this might be a warning sign, for I doubt that the cities were wholly
populated by the guilty.  Chadwick is very vulnerable.  Can it afford to
become the center of this Church's wrath like Montfort has become? 
Would it be more advantageous to form another nucleus of dissent while
the Church has its hands full with Montfort, and hope to be an example
to other dissenters to rise up now, or would it be more advantageous to
let Chadwick heal, and let the battle be fought in someone else's
streets, in someone else's backyard, with someone else's blood?  To
answer your question, you must answer these two:  What is the risk that
these people may turn against you, and what will be lost if they do?"
---m
     Therion nodded and replied, "Good points, all.  They can be
ruthless; although I belive I could restrain them somewhat.  And truly,
Chadwick is terribly vulnerable;  and no longer from outside forces
alone.  Those who resisted and suffered resent those who chose their own
safety and abandoned their neighbors;  and those who did not suffer
transfer their guilt into feelings of anger.  Without great care, these
wounds will take generations to heal.  And, it is true that the Church
could destroy Chadwick...as I fear it has done to Montfort already."
     "Now, you ask what the risk is of them turning upon me...I do not
think it to be great, for they have long desired the secrets of my
method of magic.  It will take some time for them to learn well! Of
course, were they to turn on me...well, Vengar, I would *surely* be
killed by them.  Perhaps not in a day, or a week...but sometime,
somewhere, they would succeed.  Still, to save Chadwick from the Church,
I might risk even that."
     "But, I wonder what our other companions think?"
---d
     Eldarion and Breen Acton were in deep conversation following
Therion's words.  After hearing Vengar's words, they hurriedly whispered
some more, and finally Eldarion stood.  "My Lord Therion.  We now know
it for a fact that this Church of the Redeemer is no simple religious
organization, but a front for the gravest evil Ifreann has known since
the time of Xeen the Destructor!  We know that the Dark One is behind
the machinations of this church, just as we know that the leaders of
each of the local churches ...these Proctors, are nought else but Dark
Guard Lords playing a role."
     At Eldarion's pause, Commander Acton continued.  "There can be only
one reason that the Dark One is trying to subvert your peoples, Baron. 
He believes that once he has destroyed Tynntangial, his armies can
arrive on these shores to a populace ready to welcome them with open
arms.  Then will he have that which he has sought for over a millenia: 
this entire world as his plaything.  But before he *can* bring his
armies to these shores, he must come through Tynntangial first."  Breen
Acton looked about at the council.  "It is there where the real fight
will be, my friends.  The Dark One's armies are nearing Tynntangial as
we speak, which is why I must leave to rejoin my regiment on the
morrow."
     Eldarion took up the speech again.  "Baron Therion, Tynntangial
could use your help.  You could give great help to the cause, without
letting the local 'churches' know you are doing so.  By taking your
battle across the sea, you could keep the impression that all is calm in
your barony, yet the Dark One *would* feel your bite."  Eldarion sat
down at this point, having given the elven perspective of the dark times
to come.
---je
     Niari stood and looked at each companion in turn.  "I must agree
with Lord Vengar.  Clearly these possible allies have skills of their
own and are not restricted by the confines of subtlety.  They do not
appear to be desperate for help at this time.  I would think of your own
people first, my Baron, and what is best for them.  You have just
returned, as you said, to a land divided by mistrust.  Your first
responsibility, as Lord of this land, is *to* this land and it's people. =

They need time to rebuild their faith in you.  Allow me to organize
them; to form a fighting force of those loyal to you which can be the
backbone of this new body of trust.  Perhaps with one or two
representatives from the Kingsarme, Chadwick can become a land strong in
it's foundation and capable of withstanding any weeds which might seek
to infiltrate and weaken it.  If Chadwick believes in itself, it cannot
fall.  If it is seen as a true and sturdy fife of the King himself, no
action can be taken against it.  In fact, I would go so far as to send
an envoy to the King, thanking him for his gift of this regiment and
sending along several fattened beasts to be enjoyed upon his Majesty's
dinner table.
     "Only after your own position is secure should you seek out these
men who rebel against the church and inform them of your position."  She
took a deep breath and then continued.  "Even then, I would have to
advise that you do not become directly involved.  As the Baron of
Chadwick, you cannot afford it.  You have already had one steward turn
against you in your absence.  Allow one of us...or another that you
trust, to find these rebels.  One of us could easily relay your wishes
without endangering you and all that is yours..." Niari finished, her
grey eyes smouldering with cool fire, thinking of what would happen if
Therion neglected his noble obligations again.
---k

     Vengar was busy trying to train a new steed.  His war horse of the
last few days was haggard and warn, like those of most of his
compatriots.  Perhaps, if the time aloud, he would work in a new horse
for Therion as well.  Then again, at the rate he was going with this
one, he'd be lucky to have it ready by the end of the week.  The fact
that the Barony's stablesmith had been one of the most staunch
supporters of Therion during Soros' reign, and his subsequent demise,
was woefully apparent to the man.  The fresh stallion noire that he had
chosen, glistened as the early morning sun made its appearance above the
eastern horizon.  The warmth that it cast, reminded those fortunate
enough to feel it's glow of a long past summer.  "A few more turns with
the harness and I believe this beauty will be ready to be broken,"
thought Vengar.  "At least, I *hope* so."
     "You're not very good with horses," said a small voice behind the
make-shift trainer.
     Vengar turned suddenly, almost losing his grip on the reigns.  Oh. 
It was the child he had saved the previous day.  "Hello," he returned
with a friendly smile.  "What are you doing perched like a swallow upon
that fence?  And so early in the morn."
     Zeph simply shrugged and smiled.  "Nothen better to do.  Besides, I
like horses."  Actually there was more than horse on the young lass's
mind.  If poor Vengar was not so blind (or busy with hands full of
unbroken horse) he may have noticed the rosy cheeks and blushing smile
on the girl as she spoke; a sure true sign of an adolescent crush.
     "Glad to hear.  Oh, that reminds me.  We found your frightened
roan.  He's in the barn, fed and ready when you are."
     With a squeal, Zeph leapt from the fence rail and sprang up to
Vengar to endow him with a hug and a peck.  Then in a flash she was off
to the barn.  The whole matter left poor Vengar rather off balance, and
the girl=92s actions had made his horse even more nervous than it already=

was.  It sprung to its hind quarters with a whinny and Vengar was pulled
to the ground with a thud.
     "Oh there you are," said a voice Vengar recognized as Eldarion's. 
Turning around he spied his second Elessidel of the morn.  To add insult
to injury, Eldarion said with a half chuckle and a squint in his eyes,
"Lying down on the job, eh?"
     Vengar scowled, and thought to himself, "*You* think it's so easy? 
*You* do it!"  Pushing those thoughts aside, he sprang to his feet with
a cat-like grace and, without such grace, removed the dust and dirt from
his hide.  With a groan and some gruff, he asked what he could do for
the elf.
     "You would not know where I can find my young cousin?" Eldarion
responded, still smiling broadly.
     =93Oh.  That trouble-maker would be in the barn,=94 would be his
immediate answer, but putting his unruly thoughts aside he responded in
as kindly a manner as his situation would offer.  "She is in the barn
with her horse, Lord Eldarion."
---ds & m

     The meeting with Baron Therion's Company lasted into the late
afternoon.  Niari sat and listened patiently, injecting her opinions and
concerns when called for.  Finally, when all possible avenues of action
had been introduced, discussed, and gutted by each member of the party,
the advisors were dismissed with a hearty thanks and invitation to a
formal banquet to be held that evening in their honor.  The Baron had
asked that they all attend if possible and the intent behind the words
was as clear as the twinkle in his eyes.  He had something special
planned...Niari was slighly unnerved.  There were two things that she
really disliked: flattery and surprises.  Well, okay, there were other
things too but those two really tasted sour in her mind.
     Back in her chamber, Niari discovered that the servants had found
her backpack and had desposited it neatly to one side of the door. 
Opening one of the side pockets, she removed a polishing salve and cloth
and set to work on her armor.  Before long it was gleaming, though still
slightly dented in spots from years of use.  The steely sheen of the
metal hid any imperfections in it's surface.  Now for the filagree. 
Taking out a small jar from her backpack, Niari unscrewed the lid and
poured the thick black gel onto the surface of the polished armor.  It
oozed onto the metal like cold honey.  With the polishing cloth, she
began smoothing the stuff over the surface.  It sunk into the curving
knotwork of the decorative fillagree and clung there like cement. 
Rubbing harder as the gel solidified, Niari watched as the armor began
to take on a deep purple hue that hung just on the edge of the spectrum
of visible light so that it seemed a shadowy skin on the steel surface.
     When she was satisfied that the armor was evenly coated, Niari
surveyed the effect.  She would appear a warrior in a suit of living
armor, that moved when she breathed, violet black viens of Kioshu
knotwork giving life to every inch of the metallic surface.  She placed
the armor on the bed and stretched.  Bellatrix was setting slowly in the
sky.  She didn't feel like eating for once so she went for a walk,
taking the soft grey cloak from the trunk to keep herself warm.  The
castle was all a bustle with activity.
     Servants dodged the warrior woman as politely as possible as they
went about their separate chores of cleaning and cooking for the
banquet.  Stooping by the kitchen, she grabbed a loaf of fresh cinnamon
bread, still steaming from the oven, and munched happily as she wandered
the castle.  No one was to be found.  Elana was no where in sight. 
Eldarion and Joreen seemed to have cloistered themselves away somewhere
as the gardens were completely empty.  Lorendil and the Baron were not
to be found.  Even the Plainsmen had taken the opportunity to hide from
all the activity of the Barony and had fled to other parts, probably to
poach some poor farmer's cow or chickens.  She shuckled at the thought. 
Not even Zeph was skipping through the excited streets.  Vengar was not
in the stables so she slipped Kiha some bits of grain and wandered out
of the town.
     Bellatrix had sunk into the cradling arms of the horizon.  This was
not a night to be walled up and Niari found herself drawn into the
forest which was alive with the sounds of night creatures.  After
walking down a lovely path, she turned and wandered deeper into the
brush, seeking a wild place from which to draw and share energy with the
darkness.  Before long, she stumbled upon the edge of a crystaline lake,
it's smooth surface reflecting the starry sky with watery perfection. 
The trees bent low over the shore, green with envy at the lake's dark
beauty, to which the glassy mirror simply reflected back the natural
graces of it's admirers' leafy limbs.  Niari felt herself intake a
breath at the lovliness of the view.
     The water beckoned to her with little ripples, laughing in
embarassment at her attention.  She removed her leather boots and hose
and dipped one foot into the water, which seemed to pull her into it's
depths with a warmth left over from the summer's heat.  In a matter of
seconds, Niari had slipped off the rest of her clothing and dove into
the lake with a joy unbound.  She held her breath as long as possible
and ran her fingers along the polished stones at the bottom until she
felt her lungs would burst, then, she pushed up with her legs and felt
the water rush around her.  Bursting clear at the lake's surface, she
laughed and twirled her body.  So healing it was.  She swam for a while
near the shore until she spotted a plant that had rough leaves and
picked a few to scour her body.  Standing now, knee deep in the glorious
water, she rubbed her skin clean until it glowed pink through the tan. 
When she was finished, she swam some more, her muscles relaxing after
weeks of tenseness, her long black hair flowing behind her like a velvet
cloak.
     Suddenly, there was a nip at her toes.  She let out a short "Yip"
and slipped under the surface to see a small school of fish staring at
her expectantly.  Waving her arms through the water, she scattered the
lot of them and playfuly chased them for a while, falling behind long
enough to bring them back and then chasing them again, watching their
little silvery bodies catch the light of the moonbeams that shone
through the clear depths.
     When she tired of the game, she returned to her swim, rolling onto
her back and floating across the surface while singing a Kioshu
lullabye, one she had not heard since the death of her father, the
General.  She could almost picture his handsome face among the stars as
she gazed up.  Sighing, she finished the song and swam slowly back to
shore feeling the life of the lake wash through her and around her,
cleansing her in more ways than one...
---k

     Eldarion had repaired his armour as best he could.  He donned his
freshly cleaned leathers and moved about, wanting to work out the
stiffness of the now dry shirt and breeches.  Once he felt that his
movements were unhindered, he put on his chainmail shirt, then placed
the enameled plate mail upon his shoulders.  Strapping on his sword and
kit, he finished dressing by placing his best cloak upon his shoulders. 
He looked himself in the mirror to check his dress one final time, then
threw open the door of his room, and strode out...walking right into
Vengar.  "Your pardon, Vengar.  I did not see you coming.  I *was*
hurrying somewhat, so the fault is all mine."
---je
     Vengar had stepped aside deftly when he saw the door opening.  He
had been in no danger at being struck.  Still, he appreciated the fact
that the elf was accepting responsibility.  "Fear not, Eldarion, for you
bruised neither my ego nor my elbow.  No harm was done."
---m
     As he smiled at Vengar, he noticed some motion out of the corner of
his eye from behind the warrior.  He did not get a good look, but it was
a smallish form who had come around the corner, then lept back. 
Eldarion's smile grew even more.  "I say, Vengar..." he said a little
more loadly then required, "My cousin Zeph certainly has seemed to take
a liking to being in your presence.  I have not seen her since the
stables this morning, and was wondering what she would be wearing to
Therion's ceremony.  You haven=92t seen her of late, have you?"
---je
     Vengar quickly guessed what Eldarion was on to, and that he was
referring to the seeming shadow he had picked up...the short, red-
headed, elven shadow, to be specific.  Vengar had never been the object
of anyone's infatuation, much less a young elven girl's, and he wasn't
sure how to handle it.  For the moment, he'd play along with Eldarion.
     In as loud a voice as Eldarion's, he replied, "No, sir, I don't
believe I've seen her around.  I was just heading back to my room to
prepare as well."  Then, a touch louder, "I *certainly* hope she isn't
planning on wearing what I saw her in last!  This *is*, after all, the
Baron's ceremony!"  He grinned broadly at Zeph's cousin, and listened
intently to hear what his "shadow" would do next.
---m
     At hearing Vengar's words, a groan escaped Zeph's lips, which she
quickly cupped with her two hands. Then she looked down at what she was
wearing.  =91Twas true, she would need a change.  How she loathed formal
wear, but for Vengar's eyes, she would fancy a dress.  In a flash she
was off down the corridor she had ducked into at her cousin's appearance
-even though it was the long way around reaching Elana's chambers.
     "It would seem as though your shadow has a voice."  The two men
chuckled.
---ds

     While the others were in the conference with Therion, Lorendil
returned to his room.  The pain from the Hunger was growing by the
minute, and the effort he was expending to hide his discomfort was
becoming very tiring.  Leaving explicit instructions with the servents
not to disturb him, he closed the door and locked it.  Then, he cast a
simple spell on the room that would prevent any sounds from the inside
from escaping to the outside.  Once it was in place, he relaxed his
facade...and let out a terrible scream.
     His face twisted and his body doubled-over as his forced composure
gave way to the agonizing pain that was racking his body.  Another
scream, and he collapsed to the floor.  This pang was beginning to
subside, and he was able to relax somewhat.  Despite the pain, not
having to expend energy to hide his condition was restful.  He climbed
up to the bed just as the next pang hit.  As he rolled onto his back,
knees brought tight upon his chest, his eyes began to glow a faint red. 
He found himself losing control of his body and his thought processes,
and the consciousness that was Lorendil began to slip away.  He was
seeing what was going on as if a spectator in some strange drama. 
Lorenild's body began to drag itself towards the door in a manner
completely foreign to the rigid self-discipline and noble composure that
the elven man had consistently displayed previously.  He was a monster,
a crazed beast, masquerading in Lorendil's body.  Before he made it to
the door, the pang subsided and Lorendil was again able to gain control
of himself.
     He knew now that he wouldn't be able to last through the coming
ceremony that Therion had planned for that evening.  He could not risk
losing control during the ceremony, losing control in front of all his
comrades.  There was too much at risk...his dignity, their trust and
respect of him, their safety...her saf..NO!  Don't think of her! 
Lorendil pushed the thought of Niari out of his mind as quickly as it
had entered, but subconsciously he knew that he could *not* risk losing
control in her presence.  No, he would definitely have to satiate his
Hunger before the ceremony.  He busied his mind to devising a plan to do
so, and this activity seemed to ease the further pangs that crashed on
his body.
     Once he had made up his mind on the plan, he began to make what
preparations he could.  He set out the uniform he planned to wear that
evening...it was a smart military uniform of black with royal blue and
red piping and a gold cord trim.  He had worn it as an officer in some
army many centuries ago...he had forgotten whose army it had been, or
who he had been fighting, or why.  But, he had kept the uniform because
it looked so well on him!  It had been the best attire he had ever found
in the thousands of years of his life, and he had kept it for just such
occasions.  He carefully hung the uniform on a hook on the other side of
the room as the small table he was planning to use upon his return, yet
still easily accessible for a quick change.  He didn't expect he'd have
much time before the ceremony to complete his plan, so anything he could
do to speed up his preparations for the event would be done.
     Next, he pulled a pair of hinged boxes from thin air...his
dimensional safe, to be exact, where he had placed the payment for
Niari's services way back at the Inn so many days ago.  Opening the one
that was very flat and narrow, but long, he removed the two candles with
sticks and placed them on either side of the table.  He paused, and then
thought better of it.  Therion was a very intelligent man.  He might
identify the rare material that made up the candles, and from that
deduce their purpose.  He replaced the candles in the box and closed the
lid.  The boxes were magically locked, so he was unconcerned that they
would be opened by anyone but him.  Indeed, they would self-destruct
before the lock would be compromised.  He did not even open the second
box, which was much larger and deeper than the first.  He merely placed
them both to the side of the table.
     He was ready.  It was getting late, and Bellatrix was already
beginning to set and the moon and stars to emerge.  He had missed the
evening meal.  Oh well, not that he was hungry for that kind of food
anyway.  Checking and double checking his preparations, he was satisfied
that he would be able to quickly ready for the ceremony on his return. 
He then left his room.  It would be too risky to change to his true
dragon form while inside the city...the townsfolk had already had enough
to frighten them.  He would have to walk to well outside the town before
he could make his transformation.
     He had just stepped out of the castle and into the city street when
the strongest pang took him by surprise.  His pain showed only briefly,
as his reflexes quickly replaced the facade he had used earlier.  No one
had seen his face twist in an almost inhuman way at the pain.  He
hurried his pace and made it outside the edge of the city in a few
minutes.  Within a few minutes more he was walking along a lonely trail
in the forest that was nearby.  He could see a pond or lake several
dozen yards away, the moonlight glinting off the surface and flashing in
a myriad of dazzling sparks.  It was very picturesque, and he headed
closer to see this natural beauty when he heard a voice!  His instincts
told him to run, not to risk running into someone in his present
condition, but something else beckoned him onward.  He listened
carefully as he crept closer to the edge of the water.  He was surprised
when he realized that he recognized the voice:  it was Niari's!
     Lorendil silently moved to a vantage point near an inlet along the
edge of the lake.  Niari was swimming playfully a few dozen yards away
on the far side of the inlet, and didn't seem to take notice that she
was not alone in the early night.  When he had finally found a spot that
offered a clear view, he crouched in among the bushes, fearful that
Niari might catch a glimpse of him.
     Despite the relatively small size of the inlet, the distance and
the darkness of night conspired to obscure the swimming figure of Niari. =

Lorendil, curiosity again gaining the upper hand, slowly focused his
eyes sharper and sharper, making use of his natural dragon-vision to
enhance the scene.  The elven mage nearly fell on his backside when he
realized that the Kioshu woman was bare from head to toe as she swam! 
But when the shock of that realization wore off, he began to see
something deeper.  His gaze became transfixed on this beautiful creature
lazily gliding upon the smooth surface of the water.  His eyes followed
the gentle curves of her body, from her head, slicked back with her
long, wet hair, over her strong shoulders, down her gently curving
sides, over her shapely thighs and along the supple muscles of her legs. =

Lorendil had known that Niari was an attractive woman, but outside of
the confines of her warrior's armor, she was truly a sight to behold! 
It was as if she was an entirely different woman.  Niari, the Kioshu
Warrior, was a cool and calculating adversary, skilled in the arts of
warfare and capable of unleashing deadly force with the slightest
provocation.  Niari, the Kioshu Woman, was a ravishing lady of exquisite
features, the perfect embodiment Venus, an incredible sight of lovely
femininity that contrasted sharply as night and day with her alternate,
public image.  Lorendil had not seen such overwhelming beauty in a
thousand years, and the feelings that he had repressed came crashing to
the forefront of his thoughts.  The image of Niari, swimming along in
perfect harmony with Nature, with nothing to separate her from her
natural surroundings, triggered and intensified the emotions he was
feelings.  For the first time, he admitted to himself that he loved her.
     Now his emotions were in control.  He looked about and saw a tree
with many low branches.  He quietly sprang for the lowest, and bounded
effortlessly into the canopy with his dragon-like reflexes.  Finding a
nice crook where two boughs split from the main trunk, he sat down. 
Lorendil watched Niari as she moved ever so gently towards the far
shore.  He could see her head, silhouetted against the moonlight
reflecting from the water, slowly rise as she walked towards the shore. 
As her body continued to emerge from the lake, he could see tiny beads
of water dotting her back as if she were covered in a sheer, skin-tight
gown that was bedecked with thousands of crystal jewels, each one
refracting the light in a cascade of magnificent colors.  She indeed
carried with her the elegant splendor of a truly heavenly beauty. 
Lorendil's heart nearly lurched from his chest at the sight.
     But just then a scream rang out.  He was about to look around to
see who it was when his body crumpled and shriveled under another blast
from the Hunger.  It was he who had screamed, Lorendil soon realized. 
But the curling of his body caused him to lose his balance, and he fell. =

After crashing through a couple of branches, he cleared the tree and
landed with a dull thump on the ground.  He had instinctively rolled
upon impact, and managed to escape with nothing more than several
scratches and a few bruises.  But he had easily blown his cover.
     Having disclosed his presence, his curiosity now agreed with his
instincts on a hasty departure.  Lorendil stood and ran deeper into the
forest as fast as his legs would carry him.  His abdomen was screaming
as it was torn to shreds from the pangs, and more than once he stumbled
on the underbrush.  But, up ahead, he could see a clearing, and he knew
that was his chance.  Bolting for it, his right arm wrapped tightly
about his midsection in a futile attempt to appease the pain, he finally
limped into the small area.  Another pang tore across his body, and at
that moment his worst fears were realized...he lost control.
     Lorendil's consciousness was now witnessing the acts of his body as
if a bystander, unable to alter its course.  Yet he did not stand by
passively.  The moment he realized that the Hunger had taken over, he
wrestled with his own body to regain control.  The results was a strange
and sickening dance.  First his body would lurch in one direction, and
then it would be snapped back in another.  Lorendil knew that the
motivation that was driving his body when the Hunger was controlling it
had access to his memories...meaning that it knew that Niari was nearby. =

And she would be the easy and closest choice.  Lorendil *had* to regain
control, there was simply no other option.
     The pang began to recede.  It was the edge that he needed.  As
swiftly as he had lost it, Lorendil regained control of his body.  But
he knew that the next impact of the Hunger would probably cause him to
lose control again permanently until it could be sated.  He had to leave
NOW!
     He quickly began the transformation from elf to dragon.  His form
rippled with the waves of pain that were careening from one end of his
body to the other, the transformation allowing these waves to actually
become visible.  Finally in dragon-form, he unfurled his wings and
prepared to launch into the sky, when a figure caught his eye.  He swung
his large head around on its elongated neck, to see who it was....and it
was her!
---m
Niari was beginning to feel chilled as the warmth of the day dissipated
in the night air.  Niari swam for the shore, refreshed and anxious to be
getting back to the castle to see what the Baron had cooked up for them. =

She pictured the large dining hall back home scented with smells of a
feast; decorated with candles, colorful costumes and smiling guests;
alive with the joyful laughter of...as she emerged from the lake and
reached for a handful of leaves to dry herself, Niari felt a presence. 
She cocked her head and reached out.  Then, she heard the scream! 
Dropping to her knees and facing the direction of the noise, she hurled
a tendril of questioning energy in what felt like the correct direction,
her eyes seaching the leafy darkness across the inlet. 
     Something crashed through the brush on the other side of the lake
and began moving away from her just as the feeler connected.  It felt
familiar but she did not fully recognize it.  How strange!  Throwing on
her breeches, she snached up her tunic and launched herself into the
foliage, determined to follow this strange lifeforce.  It was powerful
whatever it was but she felt no evil in it.  Still, if there was any
chance it was dangerous, she was obligated to find out.  It was moving
fast.  Niari had managed to get the tunic on but could not prevent the
branches and thorns of from tearing at the skin of her arms and face. 
She refused to care.  Pulling on the entity at the other end of the
tendril, Niari managed to increase her speed and burst out onto a path. 
The lifeforce had stopped not far ahead.  She continued the chase, her
lungs taking huge breathfuls of air to feed the muscles that propelled
her down the moonlit path. 
     The path opened suddenly into a clearing.  Niari skidded to a halt,
her hair whipping around her face.  She brushed it back in annoyance and
gasped.  In the center of the clearing was Lorendil...or was once
Lorendil.  He now was several feet taller and more muscular and changing
every second.  Leathery wings erupted from his back and huge scales
sprouted from his pores.  His handsome elven head stretched into a form
she had seen only once before as the huge reptilian mouth yawned wide,
filled with razor sharp teeth.  The wedge-shaped head swivled in her
direction and it's huge dragon eyes fixed upon her as the last of it's
body swelled to proportion. 
     Under the intensity of that gaze, Niari felt the Dragonfear take
her and her body trembled.  Shaking the tears from her eyes, she
regained enough control to reach for her sword...it was not there!  By
the Gods, Lorendil was a dragon!  Anger and betrayal rose from the dark
places of her mind and sent her stomach churning.  Somewhere inside her
mind the Karethirne laughed.  Instinct took over as she broke eye
contact with the creature that had been Lorendil.  Must kill it or it
will kill us!  Looking about wildly, she searched for something she
could use as a weapon.
---k
     Lorendil had been startled when he saw Niari there, but not
completely surprised.  He knew that she was in the area, and after he
had screamed and fallen from the tree, he half expected her to pursue. 
He had only hoped to have been gone before she caught up to him.  But
when his eyes locked with hers for just that brief moment, and he saw
the intense, growing fear deep in her soul, his heart sank.  How he
wished he could take back those few minutes, how he wished he could undo
what had just been done.  When Niari reached for her weapon that was not
there, his heart broke even more...he now realized that he loved her,
and all she could think about was killing him.  Although she probably
couldn't recognize it, he began to cry draconian tears.  He hated this
part of himself, and here was a perfect reason why!
     As Niari frantically searched the area for a makeshift weapon,
Lorendil leapt into the air, clearing the treetops easily and extending
his huge, broad wings for flight.  As he left the area, his mind was
reeling with the recent events.  Just as he acknowledged his love for
Niari, she saw him at a vulnerable time and had been hurt at his true
form.  That pained him tremendously.  And then the guilt he carried from
the death of his beloved Elorolin returned...after facing and hurting
Niari so, he fealt that he had ultimately betrayed her as well.  And as
if enough was not enough, another pang reminded him that he still had
not resolved the Hunger (although in his dragon form he was much more
able to control its rampages).
     He wheeled slowly on his left wing, not noticing the beauty of the
cloudless night sky...the stars twinkling in apparent merriment and the
moon glowing brightly as the night's sun.  Their happiness seemed to
mock Lorendil, but he wasn't paying attention.  While one part of his
mind was tormented with the thoughts of Niari and Elorolin, another part
remained focused on the task at hand.  He finally straightened his
flight path and slowly climbed and accelerated, his strong wings beating
steadily at the nocturnal air.  His destination this night was Montfort.
---m
     The Dragonfear subsided at Lor...the dragon's departure.  Niari
watched the heavy, scaled body rise, as if by magic, into the sky.  She
stared as the dark shape soared higher and higher until passing
completely out of her sight.  Her mind reeling, Niari felt her body,
still wet from the lake, begin to shiver in the cold air.  Then, her
warrior instincts took over and her brain began to function again.
     Lorendil was a dragon.  All dragon's are evil.  Lorendil had
somehow hidden his secret from them all and weaseled his way into their
confidences; into the Baron's confidences!  Niari whirled about and
broke into a run for Chadwick as fear for the Barony and all of it's
inhabitants gripped her.  Would he kill them all because of her?  She
raced, barefoot, down the dirt path towards the castle and prayed to no
God in particular for speed and luck.  The glade had been rather deep in
the forest and her lungs were soon on fire with the effort of
maintaining a speedy pace during the run.  Time crawled forward, an old
man on crippled legs, as she sped through the forest, pushing herself to
the limits of her physical body.  She hoped
she would not be too late.
---k

     If he had only been a little quicker, if he had only maintained
control a little longer, Niari would never have seen him like this. 
Now, his feelings for her he knew would go unanswered.  Worse than that,
now she hated him, she feared him, she *despised* him!  Lorendil was
deep in misery during his flight to Montfort.
     And what of Elorolin?  He had sworn an oath to her upon her death
that he would love no other like he had loved her.  And now he had
betrayed even her.  What was happening?  He was no longer himself.  Was
it Niari?  Was it his involvement with these people?  Was it the coming
of the Dark One?  Lorendil didn't know.
     He could see the lights of Montfort dim on the distant horizon.  He
was getting close.  But, gradually as if out of a fog, another image was
appearing before him.  As it congealed, he began to see features...two
eyes, a mouth...it was a face!  He watched on, fascinated at this
vision, curious how this encounter would turn out and wondering what it
could be at all.
     His heart and wings both nearly skipped a beat when he recognized
the face!  It was Elorolin!
     If Lorendil had been in any kind of condition, he would have
protested to the apparition, beckoning it to leave him be, having
already been through a traumatic emotional experience, and now
apparently about to suffer another.  But his feelings were a shambles;
he was a prisoner to whatever message this vision was about to deliver. 
He waited for the berating he expected for betraying her.
     "Lorendil, my sweet, you are in pain," she said, her soft, lilting
voice dancing across the air.
     "I am, my beloved.  And now I have betrayed you.  My pain is
double."
     "No, Lorendil, you have not betrayed me.  You have *honored* me, in
all these years, these many long centuries, you have honored my memory
and sacrificed yourself and your happiness for that.  What greater honor
could a woman ask from her dearest?"
     "I have honored you, my sweet.  And I will continue to honor you
for all my days.  I love you, my dear Elorolin."  Lorendil was sobbing.
     "And I love you, my sweet Lorendil.  And you have given me your
everything, your whole soul, despite what I did to you.  Your selfless
act will not go unrewarded, *can* not go unrewarded.  I have thought all
these decades how best to fulfill my obligation to you..."
     "You have no obligation to me, Elorolin.  It is I who have an
obligation to you, for creating the situation that ended the way we are
now.  For that I am truly sorry."
     "Nonsense, my sweet!  You did what you thought was right, and you
always had my best intentions at heart.  No one could foresee what
happened.  I do not begrudge you what has transpired.  I have seen how
you have reacted, how you have adjusted, and how you have cherished my
memory, without wavering, without questioning, without regrets.  I
*know* that you love me with all of your heart, that you always have,
and that you always will.  I can ask no more of you, nor could I ever."
     "Yes, my darling.  I will love you forever."
     "But my sweet, sweet Lorendil, your life will be so empty!  You
will miss out on so much happiness, so much love, so much tenderness if
you continue your celibacy!  I cannot have that.  You mean too much to
me to see you in such pain."
     Elorolin paused, then added, "You love Niari, Lorendil."
     Lorendil was silent for a while, then said, "I love you, my dear
Elorolin."
     She smiled compassionately.  "My sweet, you needn't hide you
feelings for her from me.  I already know.  And this is my gift to you. 
Please, be with her.  Love her.  Cherish her as you would cherish me. 
Fill your life with joy again!  I want to see you happy and free, not
foreboding and subdued!  Like we were when we were together.  I cannot
have that.  I want you to have that.  Enjoy life for the *both* of us! 
If you honor my memory, you will accept my gift, my darling."
     He didn't know what to say.  He had always felt obligated to make
the sacrifice he had made in her memory.  Now his beloved Elorolin was
releasing him from this obligation.  "I cannot betray my love for you."
     Elorolin sighed.  "It wounds me to see you so miserable, my sweet. 
Stop punishing yourself!  You did nothing wrong!  You have been so
caring and so selfless to so many people in the thousand years since we
were together, and yet you would hold back this happiness from one woman
because you fear it would betray your love for me?  You neend't let it. 
*Don't* let it!  But don't ruin yourself in the process!  Is your heart
so small that you cannot love her while you love me?"
     Lorendil's mind seemed caught in a paradox.  He had always loved
Elorolin, and he knew he always would.  And yet, he couldn't deny his
feelings for Niari.  They were strong, and true, and honest...and real. 
The more he thought, the more he tried to reconcile one with the other,
he began to realize that the paradox was not one at all.
     "Go to her," Elorolin said.  "Love her as you love me.  Bring
happiness back to your life, to hers, to mine.  This gift I give to you. =

I love you, Lorendil."
     Lorendil was crying again.  "I love you, my sweet, beloved
Elorolin," he said as her smiling image began to fade and dissipate
exactly as it had appeared.  For a long time he continued to stare
longingly at the space where her face had been, wishing the moment
hadn't ended so quickly.  Then, a dull ache in his stomach that began to
gradually grow reminded him of the Hunger.  It had mercifully not
intruded during his conversation with his beloved, but was also quick to
return once it had been completed.  In his blurred vision he could see
that Montfort was much closer now.  He would have to hurry and complete
his mission in time to return to Chadwick and the honoring ceremony
hosted by the Baron.  He began his slow descent.
---m

     By the time she had cleared the forest, it seemed that days had
passed, more enough had time for Loren...the dragon to have circled back
and launched an attack from the air.  All the deaths would be on her
head!  Speeding towards the city walls, she was surprised to see that
there was no sign of battle. No flames erupted from the city gates.  No
burning bodies raced towards her for the shelter of the lake or the
coolness of the trees.  In fact, everything looked quite peaceful.  Upon
reaching the castle gates, she halted and, gasping for breath, asked the
guards, "Have you seen anything unusual tonight?"
     The startled guards made no secret of their confusion.  One stared
at the half-clothed, bedragled figure of Niari as the other replied,
"Nay, my lady.  Nothing has been seen or reported.  Is something amiss?"
     Had she imagined it all?  No.  Impossible.  "Everything is fine. 
Just inform the watch to keep themselves alert tonight.  An enemy is
likely to strike when we are making merry and our defenses are down..."
and so saying, she ran on into the castle, her brain a flurry of
thought.  The dragon had seen her.  Of that, she was sure.  Why then
would it not attack and destroy them before she could reveal it's
secret?  Why indeed?  Perhaps it had never intended to reveal itself at
all and simply observe them until the dark One gave orders to
act...perhaps, she thought, her mind working double time, perhaps it
couldn't act at all until it received orders!  If that were the case, it
had probably flown away to report to it's dark master or to sort out the
new events in it's own mind.  In either case, she had bought some time.
     Niari was startled out of her thoughts by a sudden movement on the
wall of the hallway.  Turning quickly, she stopped and braced herself
for attack, muscles clenched.  It was just a mirror.  Gazing into the
reflection, her eyes widened in dismay.  Her long dark hair, practically
dry now, was a mass of wind-blown snarls.  The thin tunic had
disrepectfully fallen off one shoulder, revealing taught muscle, and
clung to her damp body.  Her sinewy arms boasted more than a few red
scratches and a scarlett welt sat upon her left cheekbone; announcing
the place where a tree branch had gotten in her way.  The leather
pantalons still had a bit of thorny bramble embedded in a tear below her
right knee.  Her feet were black with the soil of the forest.  And the
banquet was to start within moments!?!
     Racing for her room, Niari managed to avoid being seen by more than
a handful of servants and ran up the steps which preceeded the long
corridor where they had all been quartered.  Stopping just before the
arch to the corridor at the top of the stairs, she peeked around the
corner and looked down the length of the hallway to ensure that she was
alone.  It was empty.  Therion's guests were either still in their rooms
or had already gone.  Taking a deep breath, Niari stepped out into the
light of the torches and began to make her way as quietly as possible. 
Then she froze.  Lorendil's door was cracked open and a yellow light
spilled out onto the stones of the floor and outer wall.  No sound came
from the room beyond.  Moving silently, she crept forward and edged
herself along the wall until her shoulder was touching the casement of
the doorframe.  Still no sound.  Inching her head forward, she peered
into the dimly lit room.  A uniform of some sort hung from a hook at the
back of the room.  A sconce burned all six candles on the wall beside
the fireplace.  Other than that, the room was bare enough.  Then she
noticed something happening in the air at the foot of the bed; a
shimmering which took the form of a human figure.  Holding her breath,
she saw Lorendil materialize, his elegant clothing stained with blood. 
     Jerking her head backwards, Niari stood in place, almost afraid to
move, and calculated the distance between where she was and the door of
her own chamber...only a few yards.  She moved away from the door and
crossed the hall.  Still no one entered.  The Gods were with her
tonight!  Bolting for her room, she swung open the door and closed it
behind her, slamming the iron bolt into it's catch.  Her heart raced. 
Grabbing up the silver comb that she had tossed on the bed, she pulled
it quickly through her hair as her eyes sought out clean underclothes. 
After splashing her face with cold water and plaiting her hair, she
dressed like lightning, pulling on a shirt and leathers and then donning
her armor, which soothed her nerves slightly.  A quick check in the
mirror attested to the wonders of a suit of metal, as it covered her
trembling as well as her scratches.  The wound on her cheekbone remained
a sore imperfection on her otherwise flawlessly tanned skin but that
could not be helped now.  At least the darkness of her complexion would
hide the discoloration.  The dried blood had been washed away.  The last
addition to her dress was the trusty, sharpened longsword which she
buckled securely to her side.  She prayed she would not need to use
it...
     Taking another deep breath, she unlocked the door and stepped into
the hall just as the door to Lorendil's room swung open.  His head
snapped up and their eyes locked for the second time in an hour.  Niari
thought her heart would burst.  They stood, silent, regarding each other
coolly.  Niari's eyes shone silver beneath black lashes, body tensed to
spring, fingers hovering at the pommel of her sword.  She felt the elven
Lord move as her eyes confirmed the motion as armored hand grasped
pommel and began to withdraw the blade.  Before she could blink,
however, the door to Vengar's room opened and the soldier stepped forth,
looking dapper in preparation for the banquet.
     He saw Niari first.  "My lady, you look lovely tonight.  Is that
new armor?" asked Vengar jovially, still not seeing Lorendil down the
hall...
     Forcing her body to relax, Niari smiled and took Vengar by the
hand, an action that surprised him but not unpleasantly.  "No, I simply
cleaned it," she answered in a joking manner that underplayed the
ethereal quality of the shining metal as well as the bowstring tenseness
of her own body.  Guiding Vengar towards the stairs, Niari avoided
Lorendil's gaze completely, allowing her own natural abilities to inform
her of the way he still stared at her, his eyes burning through her
armor.  Would he try something now before the ceremony?
---k

     =93GUARD!!" coughed the prisoner.  He had been doing so for the past=

ten minutes, and the fact that he was being ignored didn't seem to
diminish his resolve to disturb the night's peace.  May the Redeemer
forgive him.
     "Silence, you!" came the only reply.
     "GUARD!!  I think I cut my leg!"
     "So?  You're to be cleansed tomorrow, so what do I care?"
     "I think I cut it...pretty bad."  The prisoner's voice was
strained, as if fighting off a stabbing pain.  "If you don't help, I may
not make it....to the Cleansing."
     Rolling his eyes, and wondering why he was even listening to this
old fool, the Inquisitor got up and fetched some guaze and a salve.  It
would do no good for the prisoner to bleed to death before the
Cleansing.  Proctor John and the High Inquisitor had too many in-house
deaths, and were quite adamant against any more.  This Inquisitor had no
desire to make Proctor John angry.  He saw what had happened to the last
Inquisitor who had.  The man shuddered.
     "GUARD!!"
     "I'm COMING!!  By the Grace of the Redeemer, have patience!"
     As the door to the cell cracked open, a trickle of torchlight from
the hall cut into the darkness.  Still, it wasn't enough to illuminate
the whole cell, and the prisoner was not where what little light there
was fell.  "Where are you?"
     "Over here...hurry!" came a strained reply.
     The Inquisitor took a few steps into the cell.  Suddenly the door
slammed shut, and accompanying the noise the room was bathed in a
sickening color of blood-red light.  Standing in a back corner was a
single figure, an elf, his arms raised in a "V" over his head.  He
towered over the Inquisitor, his eyes burning with a deep fire that
seemed to come from a distant source.  He could see through his
peripheral vision that the elf was clad in elegant clothing, but he
could not unlock his eyes from this man's gaze.  Nor could he find a
voice to call for help.  He was paralyzed, at the mercy of this horrible
apparition, fear gripping his heart and seizing his mind.
     A bellowing voice shook the cell, and the Inquisitor realized it
was being spoken by the demon before him.  His terror multiplied, and he
began praying to the Redeemer for deliverance.  The creature spoke in a
tongue the man didn't recognize, and it seemed to be some kind of
ritual.  All the while, those piercing, powerful eyes never left his
own, the conflagration behind them increasing in its intensity with
every "word" the elf spoke.  Then, he noticed something peculiar.  While
everything about him was tainted crimson by the strange light, the eyes
he was staring into were completely devoid of color.  The flames he was
watching were varying shades of gray, some strange hue between white and
black that he was sure he had seen somewhere before.
     Suddenly, the timber of the elf's voice rose in an ominous
crescendo.  He brought his arms down level and slowly pointed them
towards the man.  Fear again overwhelmed him, and he could feel his
heart beating harder and harder.  And harder!  Steadily the beating of
his heart increased, and he began to feel pain from the intensity.  And
yet it continued to increase in force.  As his heart continued to
torture him, it became too much, and he screamed.  And he screamed, and
screamed, and kept screaming, until he realized that coupled with the
agony of his beating heart was a pressure from inside his chest.  He had
not noticed it before, the overwhelming pain from his beating heart
masking it until it was too much to go unnoticed.  He literally felt as
though his chest was going to explode.  He found enough coherence to
mutter, "No..."
     He heard a sickening tearing sound, and in a burst of red mist, he
saw this globule of flesh hovering before him, convulsing rythmically. 
It was his heart.  Suddenly, tendrils of lightning shot from the elf's
outstretched arms, and enveloped the still-beating heart, and the man
watched as it shrivelled and blackened, finally dissipating in a cloud
of dust.  He screamed, but the lightning was already around him.  He
could feel himself...aging!  It was horrifyingly curious, and acutely
painful.  He watched, never stopping his screaming, as his hands, then
arms, feet, then legs, all withered away, eventually dissolving away as
his heart had.  His body followed the same transformation.  The last
thing to be destroyed was his head, and to the very end his eyes were
locked on the murderous demon that was the master of his fate.  When the
last whiff of dust had disappeared, the putrid crimson light ceased, the
room went silent, and all was as it had been before.  The elf was gone.

     Lorendil had always despised what he had to go through to satiate
the Hunger.  He was glad he had to do it only infrequently, and he
always tried to pick someone of evil intentions or actions.  Rarely had
he no such choices from which to pick, and then he regrettably feasted
on the innocent, which made him loathe the Hunger even more.  But, it
was over, and he had little time to return and prepare for the Baron's
ceremony.
     Reappearing in his room in Castle Chadwick, Lorendil quickly
prepared the cleaning ritual.  Had this been an ordinary slaying, he
could easily bespell the blood stains that covered him away.  But this
was in response to the Hunger, and for it to be completely satisfies, he
had to endure the Ritual of Cleaning.
     He quickly sat at the desk where he had placed the two boxes
earlier.  Opening the first, he placed the two candles on the two back
corners of the table.  He snorted, and two blasts of fire shot from his
mouth and barely made it to the tips of the candles before dissipating. 
They were now lit.  Opening the second box, he withdrew a silver bowl
inscribed with ancient runes, inside and out.  He lifted it and placed
it upon the tabletop, and reached back into the box.  Secured to the lid
was a small dagger, also silver, and ornately decorated in rare gems. 
It would be worth a fortune on the open market, but Lorendil needed it
for the ritual.  Slowly taking it in his right hand, he turned and
brought it and his left wrist over the bowl.  He drew the blade
deliberately across his bare skin.  His flesh burned at the touch of the
blade, and smoke rose from the wound.  Lorendil gritted his teeth at the
pain but made no sound.  The candles burned brighter, and were emitting
a scent that covered the smell of singed flesh.  A dark, oozing liquid
began to seep from the wound and into the bowl.  At the same time, the
stains that were on his clothing began to move!  They seemed to be drawn
down Lorendil's left arm, as if the blood were being drawn to the open
wound.  Slowly, the blood that had marred his clothes migrated down his
sleeve and into the open wound.  When the last of the stains were gone,
Lorendil drew the blade across the cut again, this time in the reverse
direction.  When he pulled the dagger away, the flesh had closed.  It
was as if he had never cut himself.
     The ritual was now half over.  Lorendil reached for the two
candlesticks, and grasped one in each hand.  Turning them both over
simultaneously, he lowered the flames into the bowl, touching the wicks
to each other just as the fire reached the liquid in the bowl.  In a
flash, a column of flames lept from the bowl and reached for the
ceiling...and was gone!  The bowl was empty, and the candles were no
longer burning.
     Lorendil set the candles back down on the table and sat back.  The
ritual was now finished.  Snapping from his moment of relaxation, he
realized he was running out of time.  He quickly stowed the items back
in their respective boxes, closed and locked them, and returned them to
his dimensional space.  He then hurridly changed clothes, wishing that
he could simply magic them onto his body and cursing that his magical
abilites would be non-existant for the next several hours.  Finished
dressing, and after last minute checks to make sure everything was in
place, he turned for the door...and noticed that it was slightly ajar! 
He panicked briefly, and quickly tried to decide the likelihood that
anyone watched him during the ritual.  There was no way to know. 
Deciding finally that it was probably unlikely that anyone would have
been right there at that exact moment, he opened the door and stepped
into the hall...
     ...and almost right into Niari.  Surprised, his eyes met hers as
they had in the forest not more than an hour beforehand.  His vision
dimmed until all he could see was her silver eyes, glowing fiercely.  He
fealt himself get light-headed.  Was this woman casting a spell on him? 
He couldn't tell, but he was definitely losing his balance, and with no
other visual points of reference, he knew he was going to fall.  He
staggered, breaking eye contact briefly.  That break restored his vision
enough to see her reaching for her sword.  The feeling of anguish that
he had felt when Niari saw him in dragon-form, full of fear and hatred,
returned, and he hoped she would run him through the heart on the
spot...he already felt as though she had.
     But the blow never came.  Instead, Vengar had entered the hall and
was now escorting the Kioshu woman towards the banquet, hand in hand. 
That didn't bother him.  He knew this ceremony would be tense.  He
briefly toyed with the idea of not going.  But this was a celebration of
the liberation of Chadwick...he owed it to Therion to be there.
     Then a horrifying thought entered his head.  What if she had seen
him?  What if she had seen him during the ritual?  It was bad enough
that she now knew that he was a dragon, but if she even suspected...  He
had to win her silence.  There was no other way.  But how?  The ceremony
would start in but a few minutes, and Niari was not about to grant a
moment alone with him.  He'd have to talk to her afterwards, and make
sure that she didn't say anything in the meantime.  He hated having to
take these precautions, but there were a few times in the past when he
hadn't, and it was almost the end of him.  Worse yet, he had to take
these precautions against Niari.
     Forcing his personal feelings as far aside as he could, and without
the benefit of a magical facade, Lorendil made his way slowly to the
dining hall.  When he arrived, he made it a point to find a seat apart
from, but well within view and earshot of Niari.  She noticed his
arrival, and seemed to recoil in her seat.  She had strategically placed
herself between her escort Vengar, and the elven lady she had befriended
on Little Dragon's Horn, Elana.  Lorendil took a seat between Therion
and Eldarion, and prepared for the beginning of the ceremony.
---m