First Test

[RaistlinMajere]

[Meldawen]

Merrin shut the door behind her, wincing as it squeaked in the stone frame. For a moment she stood motionless in the dark hallway, listening anxiously for any indication that she had been heard by the sleeping foursome of female pages in the chamber she'd just exited. None came, and boots padding quietly down the corridor Merrin made her way past other closed doors. They were all yet asleep, most of the males likely to exhibit spectacular hangovers once they did rise.

For ease of movement she snagged a torch from its wall sconce as the slight little dragon-page made her way down two of Vryngard's many levels to the dragon hatcheries. These too were dark, the low building housing the dragon-eggs barely visible through the gloom. Once the sun rose it would be lighter, but early as it was only a few glimmers crept over the horizon and none infiltrated the stone walls of mountain-city Vryngard.

Through the dimness her torch bobbed slightly as she walked, and came to a halt as Merrin set it down to enter the hatcheries. The large wooden door creaked on its hinges, but the sound did not bother her unduly and she slipped inside, drawing it almost closed behind her.

Inside was even darker, but Merrin knew her way by heart to the little box she sought. It was fastened to the wall of one of the hatcheries' aisles, among other boxes housing eggs. Most were not very large, and many were empty. At the very back of the low building was a larger box, this one containing a queen egg, but Merrin was more interested in the little silver one she looked for rather than that golden paragon of dragonic virtue. In the dark her fingers brushed the little egg and Merrin stopped, letting herself dream of what would happen if it hatched.

[RaistlinMajere]

Two strikes in lightning succession. The dagger whistled over the sentry's head to embed between the masonry in the far wall. The falchion came in from the back, finding a juncture in the nape of the sentry's neck. One clean cut - a calculated placement that restricted the bloodflow to an infinitesimal ooze. The sentry went down with little more than a gurgle. The assassin caught the body before it hit the stone floor, deliberately muffling the clinking of the chainmail hauberk.

Another obstacle compromised. Renegade arrogance never ceased to amaze him.

Kendath retrieved his dagger and wiped the blood off his falchion. He shot glances both ways down the dimly lit corridor. A second patrol due in thirty seconds. Nowhere to hide but -

There. A tapestry hanging from the opposite wall. The lambent torchlight delineated some sort of glorious battle in which the Meiltha were in full retreat to an oh so august Renegade sword, crowned in divine lightning. Disgusting. Nevertheless... Kendath mockingly saluted the gods that'd so magnanimously offered this tapestry, before rapidly sliding off the dead sentry's hauberk and donning it himself. He also procured a maroon cloak and a glaive embellished with the Renegade insignia. In the inadequate light the cloak's cowl disguised his features, and the cloak itself efficaciously concealed his black leather of decidedly Meiltha craftsmanship.

Behind the tapestry went the sentry's corpse, clad only in a loose white tunic and breeches. Kendath was straightening his newly acquired attire just as the Renegade patrol rounded the corner. Having studiously observed the sentries' rounds, he hastily fell into step, passing the patrol and taking a right at the corridors' intersection.

It was only after he released his breath that he realized he'd been holding it. Three seconds too late, and he would have been discovered. With a grimace he envisioned what Commander Kale - what any Meiltha officer - would say. Damn them all. In Meiltha vocabulary, failure was a synonym for a swift death - or, in Kendath's case, a pleasurable sensation in the torture chambers.

Concentrate. A self-doubting thief was a dead thief.

The steps that would take him to the dragon hatcheries yawned before him.

[Meldawen]

The silver egg glimmered slightly in what little light there was. Merrin brushed cushioning straw aside, fingertips skimming the smooth, warm surface. When she rested her palm on the end of the egg not obscured by straw, it could be felt vibrating ever so slightly. She relaxed. With increasing regularity, dragon eggs could be found still and cold to the touch, the promise of life within them broken. This one surely had to be close to hatching? Merrin had no sense of how long an egg took, but the silver one had been here for at least as long as she had - just over a year.

She shut the wooden lid and wandered deeper into the dimness. Merrin knew her way by feel without the assistance of what meager light there was. Past the first few aisles there was nothing but empty boxes, but for the large one at the back that housed the queen egg. She remembered vaguely learning of a time when they had all been full, and Vryngard's dragonriders numbered in the hundreds and thousands, and wondered what had changed. Now both the number of eggs and the amount of those who aspired to ride a dragon was dwindling.

Merrin stopped to run her fingers over a worn flight saddle that hung on a far wall. The leather was smooth, worn thin by years of use, and the girth that its long straps spoke of was more than any dragon Merrin had ever seen. Intricate signs, runes and symbols, were cut into the leather, signs Merrin couldn't read. She brushed her fingertips almost reverently over them and turned away.

[RaistlinMajere]

Demon's impatient voice hissed irritably through his rider's mind. Kendath. You still alive?

No.

Nice to hear from you, too. I'm by the north tower. Jemx is encountering... difficulties.

Concentrating on the dark steps before him, Kendath only relayed a mental nod. The oaken door to the courtyard loomed before him. He slipped to the side and pressed his ear against it. Nothing but a faint whistling of wind. He produced a lock pick and set to work on the door. He probed around until... click. With meticulous care, he braced his fingers against the door and pushed it open.

Shadows stretched on immaculate flagstone. Enclosing stone towered around a single squat structure against the far wall. He closed the door behind him and flattened himself against the wall. No silhouettes of sentries patrolling the crenellations. Evlyn had done her job well, but it didn't hurt to be careful anyway. Dropping to a low crouch, Kendath scurried across the courtyard.

To his surprise, the hatchery door was ajar. A careless accident on the Renegades' part? Were they so arrogant in their blind faith as to assume...? An amusing concept, but not likely. A trap. Renegade soldiers waiting within - an perfectly cheering thought. Kendath's knuckles whitened on the hilt of his falchion. Too late to turn back now.

He drew his cowl over his head and slipped through the door. He instantly froze and snapped a dagger up. His searching gaze roamed over the aisles of promising wyrmling eggs. Nothing stirred in the darkness, but Renegade ambushers moved silently. Keeping to the wall, he began making his way to the back of the hatchery. Even the Renegade eggs were dwindling, he didn't fail to notice. How easy it would be, to take his dagger and simply plunge it through the smooth shell. How easy it would be to kill - annihilate - the gentle life pulsing within. And why not? Demon felt little affinity to his Meiltha brethren, and he'd feel none at all for Renegade wyrms. It would be the ultimate insult to the gods.

Dagger in hand, Kendath started for the nearest row of eggs.

Something stirred in the shadows.

He snapped his head around, leveling a penetrating stare towards the opposite aisle. A slim figure standing by the saddles. It didn't appear vigilant. As it moved under a window, a stray shaft of moonlight illuminated the attire of a mere novice. Young female. A squire or a page, perhaps. In his earlier days, Kendath himself had made an embarassing habit of gawking at the eggs whenever he found opportunity. He extracted a dart and dipped it carefully in a tiny vial of poison. He inserted it in a small hand crossbow, took aim, and fired it at the victim's neck.

[Meldawen]

As she turned Merrin caught a flash of something in her peripheral vision. She would not have had the foresight to duck had not a warning burst into her consciousness - and even then she felt something whistle narrowly overhead and whirled. A scan of the shadows revealed nothing until - what was that? The barest rustle of cloth, as if from a shifting cloak...what did the shadows hold that she couldn't see?

"Who's there?" Merrin ventured to take a step forward, eyes searching. Only when her eyes fell on the dart, embedded in the wall she'd been standing by, did it occur to her to draw her weapon. She fumbled with the hilt of her rapier before it came quite free of the sheath, almost dropping the slender blade. She'd been training with weapons for just under a year, and it was painfully obvious - the blade shook slightly in her grip, Merrin not having mastered the art in any sense of the word. She wore the sword everywhere, as did all the pages, but used it only to practice drills.

Belatedly Merrin noticed the door rather more ajar than it had been when she'd entered. Nervously moistening her lips she moved forward.

[RaistlinMajere]

Incredibly - impossibly - the projectile missed. The target had faster reflexes than anticipated. She reached for her blade, in that simple motion declaring herself a novice to all concerned. Kendath let a faint smirk touch his lips. Easy kill. He was almost disappointed. He'd expected the Renegades to -

It struck him then. Decoy? True Renegade warriors lurking in the shadows? Why would they - ?

Demon's petulant voice intruded unauthorized. You're thinking too much. Again. Just slay the chit and be done with it, curse you.

His dragon was right, he realized. Sand was trickling through the hourglass, and time was a luxury he could not afford to waste. Hand on yet another dagger, he located the voice and took a roundabout way around the shelves. Hopefully the detour would take him behind his target, where a quick backstab would finish the obstacle once and for all.

He stalked around the aisle... to find the girl staring straight at him. Brown hair, blue eyes. Pretty face. He imagined her shrieking futilely for help. No one would answer her - the sentries had been compromised. Rush in, quick lunge. No noise or complaints.

Something held him back.

Instead he began slowly advancing, his dagger twirling between his hands. "Cooperation would benefit your current well-being," he said blandly, with a shrug.

[Meldawen]

Merrin almost unconsciously moved backward, away from that dangerously glittering dagger. She attempted to still the quivering of her blade in the air, its tip trembling ever so slightly, and to her surprise succeeded - a small victory until she became aware of the extreme sweatiness of her palms, both on the hilt of her rapier and on her free hand. Resisting the urge to rub it on her cloak Merrin nervously moistened her lips. Her voice was an uncertain quaver - or so it seemed to her - when finally she found words. What did one say to that kind of veiled threat? "N-no,"she stammered, and was instantly disgusted with herself. As she shifted uneasily, light illuminated the unmistakable Meiltha insignia on the hilt of his weapon. "You're -" she started in surprise.

Meiltha, in the hatcheries! she wanted to shriek at that moment, but somehow Merrin could not summon the necessary force of will. "You're - a thief," she said in dismay, repressing the urge to shrink under that cool gaze. Involuntarily - "No, I won't!"

The last had an air of desperate defiance, defiance in the face of certain defeat. In that moment Merrin recalled the lack of noise when she entered, the pacing of sentries that should have been there absent, and felt herself tense. What is he doing? She asked herself frantically, and then - I have to stop it!

[guh]

Kendath shrugged and stopped five feet away. The girl was clutching her rapier now. She seemed to have found some courage. Uncertain and defiant. Curious traits in juxtaposition. It did make his task easier. If she refused to cooperate, he could hardly be blamed for her elimination.

His eyes flickered to the queen egg at the end of the aisle. The girl still blocked his path. Cut her down quickly, make a dash for the egg - before the sentries arrived. Evlyn was skilled, but he didn't want to push his luck.

He struck without warning. The dagger launched forth while his other hand was already closing around his falchion. Darting to the side, he sliced the cruel blade across and downwards - the first move to disorient her, the second to strike.

[Meldawen]

To her own complete astonishment Merrin managed to evade the cunningly executed dagger slash and bring her weapon up to ring against his. Hastily she twisted it free and back up into a defensive stance to avoid locking hilts. Her luck - or was it luck? - would only hold so far. Merrin found herself concentrating so hard on what he would do next that her palms were rapidly getting sweaty again, and she was amazed that when their swords clashed a second time it didn't result in her death. Remember your sword drills - remember them!

The thought occurred very faintly through her haze of panicked tensity that she needed to keep him here as long as possible, until help came. Say something! No words came to mind under that disconcerting stare - none except inane ones. Upon chancing to again avoid decapitation by a horribly narrow margin Merrin found herself in a position to directly meet his eyes. The briefest glance sent a distinct chill down her spine and her words were almost involuntary when she again twisted away. "Who are you?"

[RaistlinMajere]

Kendath's astonishment beat Merrin's by a threefold. No move was unblockable, but that critical strike had taken down many a veteran warrior. To have this mere wench effortlessly thwart it... It was enough to make him fall back in surprise - a move that cost his next assault dearly. She parried again, and the metallic ring of falchion against rapier resounded through the hatchery.

A second dagger from his infinite arsenal whizzed unsuccessfully over her head. Frustrated, Kendath dove under her high-swinging rapier and grabbed his dagger off the floor. He came up behind her, falchion thrown out to block and dagger poised at her back. Impossibly, amazingly, she dodged again. Either he was hallucinating or this apparently inexperienced girl was an illusion. He almost began looking for a hidden mage, when she spoke up. The fear in her voice was genuine.

"Who are you?"

"Guess," he snarled back. This was taking far too long. He feinted high and to the side, then lunged forward. As he hurtled past, the flat of his falchion slammed against her knees. He didn't bother going through with a truly lethal attack, instead launching into a run for the back of the hatchery.

The queen egg gleamed invitingly in the darkness.

It was nestled in a bed of straw, in a cubby all by itself. A foot in diameter, heavier than he'd anticipated. Kendath snatched it and tucked it under his arm.

[Meldawen]

Merrin staggered and hit the floor on hands and knees, rapier flying from her grasp to clang on the floor somewhere she couldn't see. She scrambled upright and half fell again as her knees protested, but in another instant was rubbing her scraped palms on her breeches and hunting in panic for her weapon.

There! Merrin snatched it, almost dropping the thing in her haste, and whirled before she could talk herself into making a quick escape. Where'd he gone?! Her search for the slender blade had taken her towards the doors, so he couldn't have escaped yet, or Merrin would have seen. Panicking she ran past aisles, stopping as the realization hit - oh gods, he means to take the queen egg! I can't, I can't do it -

Merrin's head spun. She couldn't do it alone - but she just had! Skidding to a halt she reversed direction, sprinting for the doors, and dodged outside already screeching "Meiltha!"

There was not even a whisper. Merrin couldn't see an upright sentry anywhere. Gods help me!

Only one thing to do. She dashed inside to practically run into him coming the opposite direction. "No! I won't - I won't let you!"

[Meldawen]

Kendath, caught slightly off-balance, snatched the egg back before it escaped his grasp, fingertips skittering across the smooth golden surface. In his recovery he swiveled to come slashing diagonally down, blade a flash of steel in the slowly lightening interior of the hatcheries.

Kendath! Hurry up, by the abyss! It's just a girl! Demon's snarl was decidedly impatient, but Kendath's snarl in reply was no less so.

Tell Evlyn and Jemx to be ready. He severed the mental link with rather more vindictive force than was entirely necessary and concentrated on dispatching this increasingly irritating obstacle. Time was of the essence, time was of the essence.

She flicked her blade down and under and he locked hilts, forcing her backward. A quick slash would have rendered this particular obstacle defeated once and for all, but a distant roar echoed - unmistakably Jemx's - and the phrase 'time is of the essence' took on a new meaning entirely.

Extricating himself, he sprinted out across the courtyard, skidding to a halt and making for the nearest exit.