Revenge is a dish best served cold.

[G]

"Is Project Cartegena prepared?" Gnort asked Jani Hurme, the Operations Manager of GnomCorp.

"As per your instructions, sir, everything is ready. We even installed handles so your delivery system will be able to carry it easier." Jani replied, curious to see if this will work, and imagining the future funding the company will get should everything go as planned.

"Brilliant. When can we pick it up. I am on a somewhat short window and need to deliver the package as soon as possible."

"We can deliver it now, if you like. Or, pick it up from receiving whenever." he shrugged, trying to show non-chalance in this military deal. Should the device work, Jani was sure there were other uses for it that weren't violent in nature. Those possibilities outweighed his morals, especially when the financing was added in.

"Very good. The Dragon is with me, so we can pick it up now. The sooner this gets done the better." Gnort grunted. Clearly he was just as eager to drop this explosive device on Arane and get his revenge.

"I think it's bloody brilliant that you're using a dragon to deliver this bomb, Mr. Talanador, if I might add." Jani nodded. "I never would have thought to use it from the air."

"Well, they say revenge is a dish best served cold, so I get some amusement out of dropping this from a White Dragon. You know all about those, don't you?" G smirked. "So, when he drops it, how will it detonate?"

"Well, that's the truly ingenious thing about this. The outside is just a case, see, and inside, there's hundreds of plunger type devices. The impact will jar the shell enough to press several of those plungers into the contacts, causing the detonators to ignite. Once that happens, the compressed fuel inside will explode, causing significant damage in a very large radius." Jani was nodding and smiling, as if very excited about the whole detail.

"Very good. Well then, if there's nothing else, Fyren and I will pick it up now." He said plainly.

"All right then. Have a good day!"

[G]

Gnort looked to Fyren, who was picking at a claw with his teeth, not regarding the large explosive device resting beside him on the ruins of the old Golden Ivy Tavern with any concern. "So, I just drop this off and that's it?"

"That's it. But you have to do it a specific way." G replied, lecturing educationally. "I want you to fly very high, so that you're not seen. Then, when you reach the target I showed you, Dive at it. When you're a couple hundred feet above the barn, let go of the ball and fly up and away from there. Then I want you to go to Urnst. Juri has instructions on where to house you until the new Tavern is built. All in all, it's a very simple delivery for you and Tareth can go in and join the party once you're finished.."

"Well, yes. But why can't you do it?" Fyrentennimar asked curiously, back down on all fours and staring at Gnort.

"Obviously because 1. I can't fly. and 2. The ball is too heavy for me." It was always a little disconcerting seeing a big dragon head staring directly at you and not trying to attack. But with Fyren, it was more like talking to an old buddy who is mostly disinterested with exception to a few small details. Such as why he was doing something and Gnort was not.

"Hmm, well I suppose that makes sense then. All right. Shall I go now?" Fyren asked.

"Absolutely. It's dark, and no one will see you coming. After all, it's a surprise." G responded with an almost evil grin.

"All right then. Off I go!" And in one quick grab, Fyren hovered, grabbed the large bomb from the handles with both claws, and flew off in the direction of Ganderfald Manor.

[G]

It wasn't that cloudy a night, but the dragon was flying above the few clouds anyway. At night, he enjoyed travelling high and letting the moonlight reflect off his white scales. He was cheerfully gliding along, not minding anything about what he was doing and really not knowing, either.

He thought it was going to be a great big surprise when he dropped this package, and wished he could see the faces of the people when it landed. They wouldn't know what hit them.

With those thoughts in mind, Fyrentennimar looked down and noticed that he was above the target already. So, he turned upward to gain altitude before spinning around midair and dive straight over the Barn behind the large, English styled manor house as instructed.

The Dragon's expression was completely predatory as he began to get into character for such a manuever, as if a hunter stalking its prey. Then shortly before reaching about three hundred feet above rooftop, Fyren released his claws and began to pull up, laughing merrily at having accomplished so easily his goal and still wishing he could join in on the fun that he thought was going to happen.

Seconds after release, the package crashed through the rooftop and impacted on the barn floor, the plungers connected to the detonators and the resulting explosion could be heard and felt for miles around. The shockwave shattered the windows in Ganderfald manor and ripped branches from the trees nearby that it didn't outright destroy. Bodies and equipment flew in all directions from the center of the explosion, and the cloud resulting from it blotted out the moon quickly, shrouding the area in darkness. Very little, if any, of the structure of the barn remained.

As Fyren flew off, he looked behind him, feeling the explosion and seeing the result and the cloud from the bomb rising into the sky, and he thought.. "Wow. Now that must be some party."

Then he turned off towards Urnst, pleased that he did the favor he was asked so successfully.

[Arane Nausikaa]

Arane Nausikaa Ganderfald stood at the window of the second story of her RhyDin estate, overlooking the south side of her snow covered grounds. Anger boiled deeply inside of her. She rubbed her hands together anxiously. She had to get a hold of her temper but the fight seemed near futile.

Her daughter was missing. How such well-trained guards had misplaced a fourteen year old child was beyond her. They would be punished appropriately.

The Ganderfald Manor and the converted barn behind it used as Nausikaa’s RhyDin headquarters was awash in nervous tension. If Cletus was in town he would reign in Arane’s violent temper and issue clear cut orders. Unfortunately, Cletus had been left behind in Talsiny to celebrate Christmas with the two youngest children while Arane handled the matter with Charlie. Word had been sent but he couldn’t be expected for several more days.

A knock on the opened door interrupted Arane’s deep entrancement. She spun on her heels to come to face her lead guard. “We have spoken with all over her school friends now. None of them know anything,” he said mournfully.

“I want her returned,” Arane said with a deadly cruelty to her tone.

The guard shifted his weight nervously before responding. “I underst—“

The interruption was sudden, jarring, and completely disorienting. The explosion coming from behind the north side of the manor rocked the home to its ancient foundation. Noise seemed to come from everywhere all at once and as the initial sound subsided, screams and calls of help as well as falling debris filled the air.

Arane’s petite frame was knocked aside by the unexpected blow. Her shoulder was crunched against a book case, dislocating the bone from its joint. With uncanny reflexes, the guard had braced himself on the doorway in which he had been standing. As soon as the initial jolt ended, he made his way towards his mistress who was cradling her shoulder and cursing softly.

“We’ve got to get out of here,” he said urgently and loudly as his ears still rang from the massive repercussion.

“What the hell was that?”

The guard simply shook his head and wound a protective arm around Arane’s waist, leading her from the room into the hallway. Through an opened door on the opposite side, Arane got her first peek through a shattered window that overlooked the north side of the house. Smoke filled the air. Arane put her sleeve over her mouth as she pulled away from the guard and moved into the room, entranced by the clearing smoke at what lie where the barn had been.

“Oh my God,” she murmured as the wind shifted the smoke enough so that she could get her first glance at the mangled wreckage and the chaos of the scene beneath her.

There was little left of the barn. A crater laid in its place. Experienced soldiers who had the unlucky consequence of being too near the blast walked around shell shocked, some even missing limbs. Those who were inside the protection of the home were filtering out to help those who had not been so lucky. However, even the massive stone manor and those within had not escaped without harm. There were bodies and parts of bodies littered amongst scraps of wood and furniture. She was grateful when the shifting smoke covered her view once more.

“Lady Ganderfald, we must get out of here,” the guard urged.

With a small, distracted nod, Arane allowed herself to be guided towards an exit. Her mind failing to even allow her to comprehend the matter much less come to conclusions as to the culprit. Shocked and horrified, she was drawn through the halls of her terrified employees towards what her guard had deemed a safe route of departure.

[Tareth Thorn]

Many figures moved through the reek and ruin left behind the bomb's impact, some coherantly, most not. The majority of those that weren't injured beyond mobility headed for the exits, some few brave souls stayed and helped their downed comrades or tried vainly to fight the growing fires. With the ash, smoke and debris clogging the air and such a chaotic disarray cluttering the ranks, it wasn't difficult for Tareth to move easily through the wrecked compound.

He'd already waylaid one of the earier escapees and commandeered a uniform to assauge most suspicions, but he knew it would only pass a cursory, long-off inspection as he refused to go without his respirator and scanner goggles. Where others would have difficulty breathing and seeing, he would be untouched by the chaos around him. The smoke would serve for camoflauge for long enough. He hunted.

Tareth clearly avoided the barn area, if his target had been in there then there wouldn't be much point in trying to search for anything but charred remains. So he concentrated on a few of the other living quarters and carefully monitored the most obvious escape paths.

When he found her, she was being helped along the corridor by a personal guard toward one of the exits. Without pausing in his low slung, predatory pace, he reached behind him to procure both the taser and his silenced Walther.

The guard recieved the merciful shot, if you called a few thousand volts merciful. But Tareth took much more careful aim when he shot Arane in the back of her left knee. Both figures crumpled simultaneously and Tareth caught up in the next two heartbeats.

As she lay belly-down on the ground beneath him, another two flashes discharged from his gun's barrel, one through the tricep of her left arm, the other through the meat on her right shoulder. He wasn't leaving her any method by which to fight back, this wasn't a fair confrontation, this was an ambush, pure and simple. Like it had been to Charlie.

She lay simply crumpled, as if de-boned. He could hear her breathing labored by pain and hardened himself. Tonight he was vengenece.

With one hand, Tareth reached down and wound his fingers up with her long hair, grasping it to pull her up to her knees by her scalp. The other dragged his respirator mask from his mouth so he could speak clearly. He knelt behind her, pulling her body up against his as close as a lover may. He knew she felt his breath on her ear as he delivered his message.

"I hope you're listening because I'm only going to say this once. If Charlotte Jericho dies again, not only will I kill you, but I'll kill your husband, I'll kill your children, I'll kill your dog and your accountant, your favorite servants, your closest cousins, all the people on your Christmas card list and the boy who gave you your first kiss. I will eradicate your existance," here something cold pressed deeply into the flesh on the side of her neck, "got it? I don't even care if you had a hand in her death or not, I'll just do it because I'm mentally unstable like that. So weigh that in your mind in your future plans toward her, mmmkay?"

With a savage movement, Tareth dragged the something all the way across Arane's throat, leaving a cold, damp, silvery trail behind it. Thus done, he tossed her back to the ground, as if disgusted by what he held.

Pushing up, he pulled the goggles from his face, tossed them aside and jogged lightly from the long portal. Grabbing the first real guard he could, he shouted something about Arane being injured down the hall and commanded the wide-eyed soldier to go to her while Tareth went and got more help.

Smirking bitterly as the young man went to help his liege, he tossed the last bit of evidence, the red permanent marker he'd used to draw on Arane's neck, into the nearest burning fire and made good his hasty escape.