With the help of the nature spirits, it doesn't take much time at all to unearth the great dragon's body. Easily long enough to cover a football field, with tail space left over, this is the first time you've ever seen the dragon completely. He looks in piss poor shape, he is bruised and battered heavily, appearing to have several broken rib bones upon inspection by the dreadfully shaking doctor. The doctor informs you that he is well beyond the help of mundane medicine, and it's not likely he will live another 15 minutes anyways. The raspy intake of breath startles the team, but verifies that something is wrong, since it's the first breath heard since the body was discovered. Although unearthing the body proved relatively easy, he still has the weight of his claw on the bow, preventing it from being accessed. As the breath is finally released, quite possibly his last ever, the gurgling sound of liquid coming from its throat pre-warns the team as a torrent of blood gushes out of his mouth, seeping into the dry earth below. Closer inspection reveals blade marks on his underbelly that are strangely long and deep, as if a blade the size of a man made them. Those looking from the Astral Plane see his aura flicker like a flame trying to expire.

After using telekinesis to move one of the rocks away, Rebo takes stock of what lies before him: a dragon that looks remarkably like his boss, dying in front of him.

"Guys, we need to help him," he says urgently, not wanting to fully comprehend what might happen in the future if this guy IS their scaly boss and he never existed.

"Whoever can heal this guy psionically, we gotta help him. Who all here can do it?"

Slinky clambers up a rocky perch, eye-bending cloak shifting around her. A tap on her shoulder, Little Bird's preferred method to get her attention, brings her around. Her eyes widen as she sees that the team has unearthed the whole of what really does appear to be Pale. Oh my holy fragging dragon-boss batman! She jumps from the rock, springing from boulder to boulder, cat-like, ruthenium cloak trailing out behind her, it's camoflage ruined by her haste. Who else could it be?!

She sees a gout of blood leak from the creatures mouth and sees the team leap into action. Come on, boss. Come on. Hang in there. She hits the ground near the team, scooping up her ruck as she runs swiftly past, sore muscles barking at the exertion and the extra weight.

Skidding to a stop she throws the flap back and digs out her medkit. The good one. Not nearly good enough, but it'd have to do. She dials the kit to mix her up some trauma meds and tears open the trauma patches. Hang in there. Hang in there. Hands flying expertly over her gear she grabs the medkit as soon as it chimes ready. She looks at Dogma for a 'go-ahead' as she leaps to her feet and heads to the business end of the dying dragon. Teeth as long as her arm and slick with blood gleam in the bright sun. "Somebody give me a hand here. Pull his lip back."

Boy, I sure hope this is our dragon. She shakes her head ruefully, arms loaded with medical gear, eyes roving the group to get a volunteer. Woof! What has he been eating? She swallows. Uh, better not dwell on that too much.

Rolling his eyes at the latest in Rebo's long string of references to magic as psionics, Gypsy moves forward to stand beside the prone Great Dragon. Digging out the Savior Advanced Medkit™ from his satchel, he hands it over to the frantically working tech-wiz.

Dwarfed by the sheer size of the huge pale body, the sorcerer none-the-less begins to run his hands along the scaly hide. Starting at the rib cage as Slinky completes her ministrations, he slowly works his way down to the bloody abdomen, as he pours his healing magic into the dying body. Keeping his hands in contact with the wounded Dragon, the elf even climbs right onto the scaly form, all the while hoping that his magic will be enough.

For the most part all Tevos can do is watch and hope. Hes got a medkit, but with 2 people all ready working on the dragon, there isnt anything that he can do thats not all ready being done. He mutters "Lets hope those nanites can handle dragon bioloigy.

Dogma nods at Slinky when shes asks to try to help the Dragon.

Aside from that, he stands back crossed-armed and watches the healing efforts. I might be wrong, he thinks. What the frag do I know about how a timeline works. Maybe he didn't know this would happen. The elf chewed on his lower lip a bit.

Bulldrek. He knew.

Jack puts his hands to his head to make sure that it didn't start spinning around and go flying off. It looked like Ghostwalker was lying dying in front of them, but of course he knew that the great dragon was alive and well several thousand years from now.

Was this _their_ Walker, yanked back from the future by the Horrors? Or was this the actual Ghostwalker, from this time? The implications of either possibility were migraine inducing.

The extent of the dragon's injuries were well beyond his ability to comprehend. Some of his team mates were moving in with medkits, others were prepping their magic. Jack just kept out of the way. Whatever was about to happen, had already happened. Unless their intervention was about to change what had happened. Jack closed his eyes and tried to focus, rapidly realizing just how tough it was being casuality's bitch.

Slinky nods a thanks to Gypsy and an idea strikes her, "Hey, anybody with medkits get 'em over here. I can use all the juice we've got."

I don't believe this. I think I'll get that tattooed on my forehead. She takes the kits and links them together with the same formula her kit - a Huxtable 3000 - kicked out. Hope this works.

With no volunteers to hold the dragons lip out, she wedges her elbow and then her shoulder under the bloody flap. I can't believe I'm doing this. "Somebody take a picture of this. Liara will never believe it," she mutters. Working quickly she slathers the trauma patches onto the pale gums. And injects the linked stabilization concoction, crossing her fingers that it would be enough to do the trick.

Jack moves in to give Slinky a hand with the dragon's mouth, being very careful to mind the teeth.

"Somebody take a picture of this. Leola will never believe it," Slinky muttered.

Jack helpfully obliged, sending the feed from his eyes straight into memory. "It's a kodak moment all right," he agreed. He wondered if this could be blackmail level footage back in the future. The draconian equivalent of naked baby pictures, a bunch of humans saving your scaley ass with emergency dental work.

"What happens when effect precedes cause?" he wonders idly.

Tevos gives aid when its asked for. Insted of going with the others he heads straight for what looks like the major wounds on the dragons chest. He hums the diagnostic song with his Mark 7 Nanite Kit.

"Hey, you think this is why we got so cordially invited to work for him?"
Tev sets the dragon sample to the main unit for re-programming.

"Ya know what I just relized? No one can claim that Pale was Dunk reborn. Somewhere out there is Big D himself. Nice to know I guess."

He injects the repair vial directly into the gashed chest cavity and lets the kit reset for a second dose.

Sleel sees everyone working on the dragon, and not having his own medkit, nor any knowledge of how to use one, instead opts to have his drones create a flying perimeter around the great dragons body to protect it should anything unfriendly come near.

The team begins to work on the dragon, their med kits doing most of it for them. With great intensity they dedicate their minds to preserving their future (or past?) friend. Gypsy, touching the underbelly and ribs as he begins his magic, Jack off watching from a distance, Tevos standing not far from Gypsy, and the rest of the team trying to administer aide through the Dragon's mouth. It was a sight the Doctor scarely could believe. Humankind helping a downed dragon instead of finishing it off. He seemed more than a bit aggitated, his knowledge of Dragons including the way they treated humans as cattle more than as allies. After a few moments of administering aide, Tevos turns to Gypsy, and nearly goes white. Gypsy is standing there, his hands pressed against the scales of the dragon, and something is wrong, very wrong. Astral perception shows that the life force of Gypsy is being transferred into the Dragon, the Dragon seems to be siphoning more of the energy from Gypsy than Gypsy could be giving. Blood trickles out the nose of Gypsy as his hair begins to turn white from the effort.

The rest of the team is unaware of the problem, with the exception of Jack who was over-watching from afar. Meanwhile, the dragon moves his neck and takes in another breath, his second, and this time, it doesn't sound nearly as raspy as the first. Your efforts seem to be paying off in favor of the Dragon.

Meanwhile Sleel's drone, though not fully charged yet, take up a perimeter stance to pre-warn of possible enemy attacks.

Kneeling on the abdomen of the Great Dragon, his hands pressed firmly against the worst of the wounds, Gypsy feels the mana flow through him into the pale form. As the elven sorcerer concentrates on the spell, his focus narrows further and further, his surroundings and companions receding from his consciousness, until the only thing he is aware of is his gigantic patient.

Once Slinky got her med equipment situated in the dragon's mouth, Jack backed off. Being up to your forearm in a mouth that big did _not_ contribute well to one's peace of mind. All it had to do was cough, and he'd be having to learn to use a telecom with his toes (once someone got around to inventing the telecom).

He crouched atop a low boulder, watching his team's efforts, and was relieved to see that they appeared to be working. Life seemed to be returning to Ghostwalker(?). He noticed that Gypsy seemed particularly intent on his magic. It looked like it was taking a lot out of him. With a start, Jack realized that was literally true. He could almost see the life being siphoned out. The other man was literally fading away before his eyes.

Jack's legs reacted faster than his vocal cords, launching him from the boulder. "Gypsy!" he shouted as he sprinted across the uneven ground, grabbing the other man around the stomach, almost tackling him. He used the momentum to propel Gypsy back, breaking contact between him and the dragon.

Tevos was pretty happy with the progress he was making. It seemed the flashy medkit was doing its job better then he could have expected, even giving the patent. "I should invest in these guys, this thing is more impressive then Id have thought" Tev says to the nearby Gypsy.

Tev sees the charging Jack before he sees the pale Elf. "Sunna a..." he dosent have time to finish his thought, getting tangled up as Jack flying tackles Gypsy.

"Get him back, if Boss is gonna make it back off NOW" Tevos drags the weakened Gypsy away from the wounded dragon.
Almost as an after thought "I dont want to end up Wyrm food..."

Dogma paced slowly up and down towards each member of the team as they tried their various reanimation techniques, looking briefly over their shoulders at blinking medkit lights and diagnostic panels. Things seemed to be going well.

He hung around Meneer who, although a doctor, seemed too much in state of shock to be able to help them. Dogma watched silently his crew at work, until a commotion near the belly of the Dragon made him look in alarm. Jack was on top of a very pale looking Gypsy, with Tevos pulling at the sorcerer.

<<Let him finish the spell>>

He then turned to the doctor next to him and asked him if he could cook up some sort of tea or concoction to either dull pain or revitalise Gypsy once he'd be done. The sorcerer looked like he'd have one frag of a headache after this, and he certainly deserved his rest after all that had happened.

Rebo cringed as he saw the detrimental effect Gypsy's psi healing was having on him. Drain was an ugly thing when it got that bad.

Sorry I sorta made your hair go white on ya, he silently apologized to Gypsy, a bit regretful that he was the catalyst for the call to heal this dragon that caused Gypsy's hair to go prematurely white. Still, there were more important things, and if this dragon really was their boss, this could be a crucial point in the timeline.

Slinky barely nods an acknowledgement of Jack's timely help, she is focused entirely on applying the questionable drugs she's administering to an anonymous dragon who might or might not be her boss and who might or might not snuff her and the whole team out once roused.

She taps a foot impatiently as the dosages of the linked medkits tick across their screens. I hope this is helping somehow and not just squandering our priceless meds.

Of course, if this really is GW - then he's our best chance of getting out of here. Did Jack's iris just flicker - did he just take a picture? Oh boy. That's one to delete with extreme prejudice. Kinda like to see it though.

"Ding," chimes the Huxtable 3000. Ding. Slinky looks at the ground, dust churned to sticky mud with the blood of the dragon. Ding? She grimaces at her boots wondering idly what gets dragon blood out of canvas. Ding! Drek! Slinky's hands fly tot the medkits and remove the tubes and sensors and injectors arrayed near a fan of arteries in the dragon's gum.

She cradles the various kits in her arms and dodges out from under the collapsing lip just as the dragons stirs. Startled, Slinky trips and catches herself in a roll, miraculously managing to hang on to the various kits with minimal juggling. Synth-cardium in her teeth she dodges away from the shifting mouth - and teeth! - as they open letting a rancid gusting breath out. Ugh. I know I have a mint in my bag somewhere.

"GYPSY!" Jack screams and Slinky drops the kits, dodging around the dragon's massive unconscious head, over his claw and around the side at a dead run. She'd read the changes in the dragon's vitals on the machine and attributed their rising to Gypsy's ministrations. The healing. Oh no. To heal that much... A pale faced Slinky rushes to where Jack is easing off of an even more pale Gypsy. The elf's hair has gone mostly white. Not much paler than his normal light blonde - but striking all the same as it drapes thinly across his blood-smeared face. Violet eyes open, brow still creased in concentration. He's... he's still casting... but - wow. He took a tackle from Jack and... wow. He's... wow. Tough.

Dogma's quiet order comes over the comm and Slinky looks at the young commander, standing a little distant, backlit and inscrutable, wind whipping a long dingy jacket around his legs.

She gives Jack a hand up off of the straining caster and tries to make Gypsy more comfortable without further interrupting him. She tugs a cloth from around his neck and dampens it from a canteen, dabbing the blood from his face as inobtrusively as she can. Oh man. This... this isn't good. Maybe we should have thought more about this.

Caught totally unaware by Jack's football tackle, the elven sorcerer is easily borne to the ground from his position on top of the Great Dragon's torso. Still caught up in his magic, he only vaguely feels the shock of the impact, or even the assistance given to him by Tevos and Slinky. Despite the attention and ministrations of his team mates, Gypsy strains to maintain his concentration on the healing spell, making sure that the hard-earned effects become permanent.

Gypsy starts to shake, almost as if in a seizure, as if the whitening of the hair wasn't enough already, it was getting whiter. His eyes rolled into the back of his head, and his back arched into the air, leaving him balanced on the balls of his feet and his fingers, an impossible feat without the use of a Levitate spell. However, no matter how much weight is put on Gypsy, he continues to hang arched like that, energy draining from him rapidly.

Suddenly he screams, flailing around frantically, his eyes huge with fear. He mutters something barely, if at all, understandable, and flops down on his ass, fear slowly leaving his eyes, being replaced with amazement.

Only then does the team realize the Dragon Corpse is moving, in a fluid movement that defies every law of gravity, The head rises up, and comes smack down on top of Tevos who had somehow pulled away from the rest of the group. The dragon was seemingly intent on eating Tevos, but Tevos fell backwards, leaving the dragon with a mouth full of two large rocks that were on either side of him. The large rocks crashed together leaving Tevos trapped under them as he tried to scramble away with no avail.

The dragon suddenly notices the rest of you, and gives you a look similar to what a starving man would give to a fat cow which suddenly walked up to his dinner table. There's no mistaking it, this dragon, be he GhostWalker or not, does not know you as friend, and apparently thinks of you as an Hors' Diouvres.

Meneer leaps down to the ground, arms over his head. It's quite obvious he has no intentions of working on an herbal remedy for Gypsy for at least a little while.

<< Roll Initiative - The favorite line of any GM >>

Tevos crashes to the ground after getting caught with a dragon headbutt to his mid section. Ohh... Big teeth... where the only thoughts that seemed to stick in his mind as he bounced off a boulder. A soft audibal pop filled his ears.Oh.. that was a rib.

Tev rolled to his left clutching his chest. "FRAG!" his tougue finally getting in contact with the rest of his mind. The dragon snapped down on the rock he was hiding next to, but in the process rolling it tight aginst the one next to it, trapping him.

Dogma's eyes bulged out when he saw the dragon move, and then his arms went from casualy crossed to a comical movement of readiness.

"CRAP! RUN!"

Not the most intelligent order he ever gave, but that was essentially The Plan right now.

Being slightly further from the dragon than the rest of the team, who had up until then been trying to heal the dragon, Dogma figured he was in the best position to distract the massive beast while his team mates got away.

Taking out his pistol, he shot at Scaly's snout. Heheh.. always wanted to do that

"TEVOS!" Slinky shouts as the dragon knocks her teammate back. Her shout turns into a ragged, articulate scream as the dragon's head descends. She flinches away and turns back to look at Jack over Gypsy's wasted body.

Dogma's shout echoes across the rocks and the techie stoops to grab Gypsy. This is bad. Bad bad bad. She tries to pull Gypsy along with her, fighting muscles that protest being pushed beyond their limits. Images reel through her mind - James laughing, face smeared with Zombie goop; Tevos playing with the cairn children; Gypsy calmly explaning about Horrors; Rebo trancing; Sleel hovering over his drones, looking worried - and just like that she snaps.

Wheeling around to face the looming dragon, Slinky stands her ground like a lioness, "I don't know who you think you are, you bastard, but we just saved your scaly hoop and now you're gonna make it to see the Sixth World. Just see what happens if you kill us now you pile of horror drek!"

She's tiny and full of fury - angry at the world and tired of death. She just isn't gonna take it any more. One way or another.

Stunned almost to the point of unconsciousness by his latest use of magic, Gypsy almost misses the first terrifying attack by the pale dragon. Even then, before he can act, he is grabbed by the tech-wiz and hauled bodily away from the action as Dogma starts to fire his pistol at the large, much-recovered creature.

Fighting against both the incredible fatigue and Slinky's grasp with all his strength, the sorcerer breaks free and flings himself forward between the elf and the Great Dragon. Facing the wrathful visage of his most recent patient, he throws his arms wide and screams out, alternating between Sperethiel and the common language of this era.

"STOP! WAIT! WE MEAN YOU NO HARM!"

When he attracts the great beast's attention, Gypsy slowly staggers forward, keeping his arms outstretched and his body between the dragon and the team's leader, continuing to speak in a slightly lower tone.

"If it's food you require, that can easily be arranged. Just give us a chance to explain matters before dining indiscriminately."

Upon seeing the dragon move, Sleel quickly orders his drones up and away from it, scouting out the area slightly more, and giving the dragon plenty of room for whatever he may want to do. Standing orders on the drones, avoid getting hit by the dragon. After sending out the orders to his drones, Sleel quickly backs away, near the claw of Hate, keeping it between him and the dragon, and watching it to be sure it doesn't move.

"DAMN!" Rebo yells as Tevos gets hit by the now-awakened dragon.

This was pissing him off. They just saved this damn lizard's life, and he ATTACKED them?!

Fighting off his instinctive urge to throw Pyrokinesis at this thing, Rebo decides to take one single stab at the diplomatic route. He focuses his mind, concentrating on the dragon's complex mind, and sends out a message via telepathy.

"HEY! We just saved your life here! Our resident healer here turned his hair white to save your hide! Stand down and we won't shoot."

<<Isn't this the same thing he did after coming through the rift in DC? Could he _not_ wake up hungry for once?>> It sounded like he was channeling James again.

He dropped back, using his smartlink to eject the clip in his pistol, then slapping in his single clip of DMSO/Gamma Scopolamine capsule rounds. The dosage might not be scaled up for dragons, but if he could put a round into Mr. Cranky's maw, it might cool him down a bit. Or give him a really bad case of cottonmouth. Either or.
----------------------------------

The dragon raises his head, immediately noticing the shots that graze his lower jaw, and turning his attention on the source, a certain Jack. With a look of pure venom, the dragon raises his head as high as he can, his chest swelling with the intake of air. You actually feel the vacuum like effect this creates as the dragon prepares for his deadliest assault aimed at the Runner Formerly Known as Jack.

Just as he's about to release his breath, something happens, he sees Gypsy lying nearby, and a voice in his head from Rebo. He sees the Psi Power pouring out of Rebos, and sees a strand of astral attachment between himself and Gypsy. There are suddenly too many unanswered questions as the dragon finally exhales in Jacks' direction. The heat is nearly unbearable, felt by everyone as it burns most of Jacks' hair to a crisp, leaving the raunchy smell of burnt hair in the air. Fortunately though, it doesn't smell like scorched flesh. In a very off-tone sperethiel, he bellows forth 3 words that seem to etch themselves upon your souls, "WHO ARE YOU?"

Etched on your souls because they seem powered by magic, forcing complete honesty from anyone (with a Willpower of 5 or less). Oddly enough, those looking astrally notice an oddity. There was no magic, at all, cast to use the spell. But the magical effect is undenyable.

You have received a few moments reprieved before becoming Wyrm Food, and you know that you'd better make it the best few moments you can if you want more of them.

Thinking that his end was imminent when the dragon begins to inhale, Gypsy is surprised when the huge gout of flame does not immediately turn him into ash. His relief is compounded when he turns to see that the huge creature's intended target, was also still among the living, although Jack looked to be a little worse for wear.

The booming voice then washes over him, startling him and commanding his attention. Slowly staggering a few steps backwards, Gypsy stops at the side of the team leader. Not willing to divert his attention away from the Great Dragon for longer than is absolutely necessary, the sorcerer casts only a quick glance in Dogma's direction.

"I think that's your cue."

Rebo felt the words thunder through his mind. He felt them trying to shake his will apart and wrench the truth from him, but he managed to shake it off.

He wasn't sure how well the truth would go over with this dragon, anyways. What was he supposed to say? 'We're just shadow-operatives from thousands of years in the future, and oh yeah, you might be our boss.' Yeah right.

At a complete loss for words, Rebo turns to their fearless leader.

"Well, you're the boss, you explain it to him," he says. "Better make it good, or we'll all be Draco-Listerine."

Dogma stands staring at the Dragon as it bellows it's question. The words... pull at him. The dragon's presence is amazing. The power, so great...

His team's nervous nudging at him to "say something" bring him back to the 'present'.

"Uhm... Uhm" the elf hesitates. You've talked to him before, this is no differant. You've talked to plenty of people that could kill you easily, and you're still here. Frag him. I'm Dogma. The elf narrowed his eyes and began talking.

"Oh Great Dragon, we mean you no harm. We found you buried under these rocks and foolishly thought you needed our help. We administered what inadequate medical help we could with our tools and meager magics."

"You can no doubt pierce my thoughts with your mind. So you can see what I am saying is true. Great Dragon, we come from the distant future. Our clothing and tools, as well as mechanical devices within us, lend credence to this unbelievable happening. We don't know what strange magics brought us here. We seek only to return to our time."

Dogma hesitates on the next point. This had to be played delicately.

"Oh Great and Powerful Dragon, I know I am not worthy of speaking it, but what is your name? I only ask because it may be relevant to our travel to your time, our past"

This is not the outcome I was hoping for Jack thought, as the dragon inhaled. As he was in a direct line with the dragon's mouth, it gave him an excellent view of everything from the fangs back. I can see my house from here.

He hadn't been faced with death this imminent in while. He felt cold.

Then he felt very, very warm as the flames rushed towards him, not quite coming close enough to set him alight. He could smell hair burning. Well, he'd never liked his eyebrows anyway.

"WHO ARE YOU?" the dragon boomed out. That was good. It was no longer trying to eat anyone. The voice itself seemed to possess an inherent power, one that compelled Jack to answer.

"My name is Elliot Harrison. I'm an operative for the Great Dragon Icewing. I think that's you, Boss."

"WHO ARE YOU?" the voice exploded in Tevs mind.

Bloody dragon speech isnt it. Always wondered what he sounded like directly.
The urge to give name, rank and serial number was something strange, but not overpowering.

God, but look at the astral, amazing... Its all full of...stars?

Tev made a feeble attempt to free himself from the boulders that trapped him within brunch range of a wounded and angry dragon, which was almost the last place he wanted to be.

Jack was in the last place he wanted to be.

Jack felt a little dizzy as he continued to face the dragon head on. It really was not an enviable position to be in. He'd answered it's question with complete frankness and honesty, and wondered what would come next.

Dogma spoke nervously at that point, the dragon's attention shifting away from Jack. It was like someone had just removed the scaffolding that kept him upright. He started to sag, his pistol slowly slipping free of his hand as he half leaned, half swooned against the boulder behind him. He locked his knees to keep himself upright, to keep from moving too much, lest the dragon return it's attention to him.

Slinky always tried to speak candidly. Honesty was a virtue. But she didn't like conflict, so along side honesty was tolerance and compassion. Otherwise known as a fat stripe of cowardice. The compulsion in the dragon's voice - if something that rattled your very soul could be called a voice - stripped the cowardice all away.

"WHO ARE YOU?"

Unbidden images flicker as the dragon's presence looms large in her eyes and mind... Racing along in the back of Sleel's first pickup along the backroads between Bryan and Herne, laughing as the wind whipped her long braids out behind her as she stood up in the bed, her hands planted on the top of the cab... Sneaking scrip out of her uncle's wallet, while he watched the trid... Learning she was not Ana Hanson, but rather, an heir to Fichetti Industries - an off-the-books heir - she and Sleel and another... Staring up at the ceiling of her room, feeling her arms wrapped tightly around her chest when she knew they weren't there - not anymore - feeling like she couldn't breathe... Staring in horror at the blood on her new hands... Crying unconsolably in Dr. Cook's office as she wrecked his furniture with her too-smoothly operating arms and hands... Her first day as an Aggie... Classes, old buildings and older oak trees... Fleeing the school's stadium when they fired off a cannon and running headlong over her puzzled date... Dodging Sleel's drones as he spied on she and Karl... Slipping through the steam tunnels with a backpack full of electronics gear to set up a remote broadcast side for Karl's pirate trid station... Stealing custodial passkeys from inattendent cleaning staff... Stealing kisses in the stacks... Escaping campus security at Langford, one of the few buildings open 24 hours - one of the few open to students who didn't have a cherished collection of pilfered maglock keys... Hearing from Andy that he'd found their sister in Denver... Playing with the vintage toy that Karl had given her from graduation, trying to lose herself in the mesmerizing metallic clash of the cascading coils as they flowed from one hand to the other, as she figured out how to tell Karl that she was leaving... Meeting Liara for the first time and remembering trid-flick after trid-flick of strangers meeting their mirror-image twins after years of separation... Her first apartment on her own... Staring up at the ceiling still with phantom arms wrapped tight around her chest... Meeting Dogma at a bar, his long coat crisp and white, perfect - elven features refined and open... Meeting the rest of The Team... Meeting... The Boss...

Who am I?

"I am FED UP! That's who I am! Leola Faustine Adolorata Fichetti is fed up! With you!" She stabs a finger at Dogma, "'We don't mean you any harm.' HAH! As if it matters what we intend, or how we speak it in our crude tongues." She rounds on Gypsy, "'I'm an elf, we're all mystical and oh-so-clever. Watch me play my pretty flute.'" She whirls on Jack, "And you - ooooh Magic! Eeek!" She feigns fear, mocking the charred man brutally before turning her attention to Rebo, "Yeah, I said MAGIC. IT'S MAGIC DAMNIT! FRAGGING BLOODY MAGIC you washed-up, burnt-out Old Age loser." She looks around... where has Tevos gotten to, that soft-touch spirit-teaser? Her eyes narrow... she turns toward the dragon, "And especially with you. I. Blame. You."

The feeling of compulsion recedes and a look of pure shock takes over Slinky's entire manner. Her face goes slack and she swallows repeatedly as she sinks to her knees shaking. She leans over and vomits. Again. Please say that was all in my head. Please, oh please, oh please. She closes her eyes and stands shakily. Opening her eyes she catches a glimspe of the bow - MYRMINOTH - she closes her eyes again - DAMNIT GET OUT OF MY HEAD!

Gypsy momentarily forgets about the Great Dragon looming above him as Slinky launches into her tirade. His eyebrows rise slightly in surprise at her words concerning him, while his hand unconsciously pats his long coat over the inner pocket where his flute rests.

"Uh huh!"

As the rant winds down and the tech-wiz drops to her knees, the elf casts a quick glance at the dragon to check his reaction before wearily making his way to his current partner's side. Arriving as Slinky rises to her feet, Gypsy tentatively puts his hand on her shoulder in an attempt to comfort her.

Rebo stands still, undisturbed by Slinky's diatribe. He'd gotten into so many debates with "magic-users" that he was more than capable of holding his own against them by now, let alone against a mundane. He just didn't feel like arguing with an obviously disturbed woman at the moment, especially seeing as how the dragon's time he'd given them to explain themselves was ticking away rapidly.

Way to make a first impression, partner, Rebo silently thought at Slinky. He briefly considered shooting off a telepathic message to the dragon saying something to the effect of, "She does not represent us" to be on the safe side, but decided against it.

Rebo crosses his arms and stares into the dragon's eyes as he awaits its reply, hoping to gain a small measure of respect by standing firm in the face of a rant from a teammate and the imposing figure of the dragon.

It slowly sinks in that this dragon never opened his mouth to voice the 3 words. He looks at those that respond curiously, as if they spoke some sort of foreign tongue. He seems especially interested in the rant that Slinky goes into, and after her performance, this time his mouth does open, and the words come out: "I. Blame. You.", as a child saying words for the first time. His contenance changes to a friendlier tone for a split second, before he suddenly looks around for something in a startled afterthought. Suddenly images spring into your mind, 1st person perspective of a great battle between (based upon the height of the observer, you guess) the Dragon, and the multi-armed creature referred to as Hate, one that ended with the mountain tumbling from beneath them as they fought. You find it most interesting that it actually looked like the Dragon was losing the fight...

Seeing the arm sticking out from under the rock, the dragon launches himself into the air. This in itself, is something that will remain in your memories for all time, to watch something larger than a football field move so quickly and with such agility is confoundedly amazing. With a single blow, the boulder is broken down into nothing but dust, and the Dragon bites into the earth where Hate's corpse must lie. Although the rest is hidden from view, you quickly assume that the Dragon just had breakfast.

After a moment of uneasy silence, the Dragon turns around and appraises you again. "I. Blame. You", he says as he points to Slinky. "Squrlifcreatilliader", he says as he points at himself, almost as if trying to initiate basic conversation.

Meanwhile Gypsy also suddenly realizes that the link between the Dragon and himself for the Healing spell never broke. It seemed that he were bound to the dragon by some sort of astral leash, and no amount of willpower could make it go away.

Tevos crawls out from beneath the diminished rocks that held him, no longer captive of the earth, as he pulls himself out he notices something is wrong. The Dragon's tail is directly where he last thought he'd seen Sleel, and Sleel is not to be seen.

Sleel:

Sleel looks at the hole where the hate creature was laying, as the dragon swallows what must be a very dry breakfast. Looking around, he realizes that its probably in his best interests to move, but how to move and avoid getting stepped on he has no idea. Instead, he decides to tap lightly one of the toes, and if the dragon doesn't respond in any way, climb up on the toe, in an attempt that if hes on the foot, he can't get stepped on.

Tev takes a rapid mental count and notices the missing Sleel.

"Sleel! You ok?" Tev turns to the giant and stutters brokenly in the language of the cairn dwellers.

"You stepped on friend?" Tev points from himself to the dragon trying to convay with tone and body language the fact that he may have just squashed their friend.

Upon hearing Tev yell out to him, Sleel plugs into captains chair mode, giving an Ajax orders to broadcast what he says and fly over near Tev.

Coming from the speaker, you hear "Yeah, I'm alright... I'm sitting on his foot right now... but I'd like to not get stepped on if I could..."

Watching in awe as the Great Dragon moves with incredible speed and grace, Gypsy let's his hand drop from Slinky's shoulder. His mind races as he gathers each little clue, each small hint of what is happening, and tries to put all the pieces together.

It is fairly obvious that the pale dragon does not comprehend the various languages that the rest of the team have been using up till now. The creature's original words, such as they were, sounded like they were in a form of Sperethiel, which to his knowledge was not known by any of them other than him. It could be that the 'words' were a form of mind-speak that was understood by all, but might be different for each of them, but the power didn't seem to work in reverse.

Then there was this strange pull, or Astral link of some kind, that seemed to exist between himself and the Great Dragon. It was like nothing he had ever experienced. Gypsy's first thought about it was to wonder if this is how a Spirit feels when he answers the call of its summoner, or even how a Focus would feel, if Foci could feel, at having been bonded. Disturbed as he is by such thoughts, he thrusts them to the back of his mind, though he is determined to ponder them more later, when he has the chance.

Still standing at the tech-wiz's side when the huge dragon speaks to her once again, the sorcerer takes a halting step in front of Slinky and looks up at its looming face. Ignoring the various activities of the rest of his team mates, Gypsy addresses the Great Dragon clearly in Sperethiel.

"What is it that you want to know?"

Dogma covers his face and turns away as a shower of small rocks and pebbles rain down on everyone when the Dragon makes his explosive leap into the air.

The dragon didn't seem to understand or register anything he'd said, but it no longer seemed to want to eat everyone. That was good.

Slinky seemed to not be doing so good. She was on all four, a mess. The events of the past few days had not been kind to her. Gypsy was once again working on consoling her. Dogma would try to talk to her later.

There was a moment of slight panic when Dogma looked intently where he thought Sleel was supposed to be. Fortunatly, just as the thought of what could of happened to the rigger started entering his mind, Sleel's drone let him know he wasn't mushy paste. Of course he was stuck inbetween the toenails of a dragon, but that was still a step up from mushy paste.

Dogma's mind was processign slower than usual. He watched mute as the dragon swallowed the Ex-Hate whole in one bite.

Gypsy was trying to communicate in Sperethiel, the only one who could, while the draogn seemed to find Slinky amusing. Looked like those two lead the show, for now. Dogma dropped a quick glance to the poor Meneer who was cowering for all his worth. That was ok, anything other than mushy paste was good for now.

Rebo's solid composure breaks as he sees the dragon move faster than an eyeblink and devour the Hate creature. In his years of working with Ghostwalker, he had never seen anything like that. Well, he HAD missed the rampage in Denver, so that's likely why.

Relieved that the dragon didn't see them all as a food source - he thought - Rebo looked at the dragon, trying to think of how to communicate. Verbal language would be awkward at best, so that left Telepathy. He wasn't sure how a dragon would feel about that, but what other choice was there?

Rebo focuses his mind and looks at the dragon.

"Thank you for hearing us out...whatever your name is. Speaking of names, mine is Rebo Ewing, psionicist and...well, semi-citizen of the Denver Front Range Free Zone. Er, you've probably don't know it by that name, but that's what the humans that inhabit it in our time call it.

And you?"

Jack finally couldn't keep his legs straight any longer and sat down hard. He hurt, and smelled like a barbecue gone wrong, and he was watching a Great Dragon eating a horror. He really hoped that none of them were next.

The language that the dragon had used had sounded a bit like Sprethiel. He popped the Security Design chip out of his jukebox, replaceing it with his Sprethiel chip, and then plugging the device into his datajack. He tried to remember everything he knew about draconian telepathic communication. When that didn't amount to much, he decided to just think at the dragon very hard in Sprethiel and 'common.' "My name is Jack. I'm an operative for the Great Dragon Ghostwalker, who was once known as Icewing."

The Dragon seems to almost ignore Gypsy as he introduces himself in Sperethiel, he turns his neck in Gypsy's general direction as the mostly-hairless Human, Jack, also introduces himself in the secret language of the Elves. Then suddenly, thoughts again enter the mind of the Dragon, causing its eyes to widen, and then narrow at Rebo as he watches the Psi-Manipulation being performed.

The Dragon turns slowly, to face the party once again. Sleel finds it nearly impossible to hold on as the foot raises high into the air with the steps needed for the great beast to turn around. He grips at the scales to maintain his position, as he's nearly thrown from the movement. Feeling the foot stop, he looks up into the gleaming teeth of the Dragon who has taken notice that something was trying to pry one of its scales from its foot.

Teeth snap at Sleel, catching him between 2 very sharp looking canines, and yanking him into the air. The team watches in horror as Sleel body is snapped into the air by the great jaw of the Dragon. The dragon releases Sleel from its maw a hundred feet in the air, Sleel hangs in the air at this split second, the Dragon lunging its neck forward to either get a better grasp on the target, or perhaps to just swallow Sleel whole.

Gypsy:
Jack:
Rebo:

Unfortunately, he doesn't have seemed to notice the rest of you, or perhaps you've just not done anything to be deemed higher on the food chain than cattle. Whatever the case, you feel a fear creeping up your spine as you watch Sleel about to become a snack.

Sleel

Tevos watches in horror as the white wyrm grabs Sleel and tosses him skyward. Oh bull fragging dreck you will Those of you near by see a smile that you havent seen in a while. The smile of a fox. Im back ahead.

Tev closes his eyes and snaps his thumb and ring finger.

Jack realized why he'd always been glad that they'd had the Big Boss as the buffer between them and Ghostwalker. Having the dragon's voice actually echoing in between your ears, while you were staring at it over it's over-sized and fang laden snout was a task that required a great deal more intestinal fortitude than he could muster on a regular basis.

Jack wasn't sure if you _had_ to furrow your brow when mind chatting, but he doubted it could hurt.

Actually, it did. Furrowing irritated the burns on his forehead. As we serve Icewing / Ghostwalker in the future, and he found us competent minions then, it stands that we can still be so now. As well as it was on his orders that we intiated the chain of events that brought us back here- His brainwaves flatlined in shock as he watched Sleel fly up into the air, then resumed with a full spectrum spike. -where _we_ saved _you_, something very hard to do if we're not all alive enoughtomakethetripback!

Dogma made a funny "Gnyah!" sound when Sleel went flying in the air a he made another start as if to catch the rigger when he landed back down. Of course that would not have worked very well, so the elf was considerably relieved to see the storm spirit manifest as a pillowy cloud to stop Sleel discovery of what being pizza was like. The dragon was still in a "don't kill everyone in sight" standing, but various facial expressions manifested themselves on the Dragon's visage. This told Dogma that it was talking to at least one of his team members.

<<Whomever has contact with the dragon, tell him to mindprobe me to see for himself how we got here, what we've been doing here... and also to see himself in the future...>>

Letting the dragon into him mind might be a risk, considering all of the... sensitive information Dogma knew. Maybe this is why He knew so much about me when He recruited me. Maybe we're all setting ourselves up for our future.

Gypsy is slightly perturbed that the Great Dragon seems to be so dismissive of him as he steps forward to address the huge creature. He runs his hand through his hair, watching in frustration until the dragon turns towards them. The shock of the large beast's lightning quick move against the helpless rigger leaves the sorcerer momentarily speechless as he looks on in horror, first at Sleel lodged between the frightening teeth, then as he goes flying high into the air.

The voice in his head startles him, even though Gypsy was expecting, and even waiting for such a response. His mind racing over exactly how he should respond, he turns his attention back to the dragon, hoping either that the creature won't eat his team mate, or that one of his companions is swift enough to deal with Sleel's otherwise inevitable fall.

Taking another weary step forward, the sorcerer cranes his neck upwards in an attempt to look the Great Dragon in the eye as he once again addresses it in the elven language.

"You are right. I am quite different to those elves that you mention, as is my companion, Dogma. I know very little of their kind, as the stories of them are all but forgotten in our time."

Pausing, Gypsy swallows visibly, again running his hand through his now-white crop of hair as he considers just how to answer the dragon's question.

"As for why you should aid us, the answer is two-fold. The first, and least important, is that we have been of assistance to you. I am not that arrogant to assume that you needed any such help as we supplied, but the fact remains that we did render it to you unasked."

Once again the elf pauses, looking around at his companions before continuing.

"The second reason is much more compelling. In our time, the Great Wyrm Icewing, known to us as Ghostwalker, sent us on our current mission for a reason. Although we are not privy to all the details, I am sure that he must have had reason enough to do so. That we ended up here, in this time and at the very place where we would encounter you, there stands to be a good chance that the reason for such an assignment is in some way connected to yourself. I would think it is in all of our interests to consider the ramifications of this before acting rashly."