Theory: 

Dragonrider somehow tampered with the map so that it shows Sydney near MHO when really, she's somewhere completely different. It's all a trap. Unfortunately I'm dead and not telepathic so no one can actually hear me saying this.

Darn! 

Yes!!! A post!!! Here's the next installment! This one's a little short:

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The CBers waited for what seemed like hours. (Really, it had only been twenty-nine minutes, as Critic A told Spyro.) Nobody seemed annoyed at her for being critical, because Spyro was being rather annoying. 

"Ugh, we've been waiting for EEE-VER," he said for the umpteenth time at the thirty minute mark. Many of the CBers had begun to pass in and out of the living room as time beat the worried wrinkles out of their faces. They slipped into a very, very, poker-faced boredom and they tried to entertain themselves, without much success. Dragonrider paced a few times in and out of the kitchen, numb and half-concious without her IPad. Eventually she disappeared upstairs to look for her brush. Brushing her hair, she explained, was something she only did while enduring the highest level of boredom.

Turgon had also disappeared once more after returning downstairs to fix himself a snack. The clock seemed to have no effect on him; everyone was certain that he'd wait over a year for his egg to hatch without showing any signs of boredom.

Joss sat listlessly with her kitten and stared off into space.

Poetic Panda played magical solitaire, a game the farmer's assistant kept in her room for times like this.

The CAPTCHAs slept in a pile on the carpet, having cleaned up the gooey slime trail left by the nervous snails caught forty-five minutes ago.

The other CBers and AEs tried to figure out why their minds were so muddled.

The farmer's assistant stayed alert, unfased by the life-and-death situation that stretched on and on. She chatted with Rufus for a while, talked about the dragon mine, and watched television.

Of course the CBers were bored because they could do nothing to help save Sydney. Their minds just slipped into a trance after realizing that. They sat and sat and sat, and sat.

And then the farmer appeared.

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Now, there is something that you need to know about his disconcerting trip to the murderer's hideout. It was...the turning point, shall we say. The murderer had learned something terrible--even more terrible than the truth that had turned her into a murderer. Something cracked inside of her--she'd double her efforts, invent better plots!

As is with most ski-lodge murderers, she had previously slightly been and now was a little bit more........insane, shall we say. Why else would one do the things she had done? But she wasn't doing the killing out of sheer spite, no. She had her reasons. It's not my place to share her motives with you--not yet. But I will say one thing: The murderer, however strange this may seem, thought she was doing a good thing. And the terrible, twisted truth would be revealed, all in due time. 

Oh, and TOP!

Top. Nothing else to it.

Ooh, I have an idea. Lots of ideas, actually. Something to do with the miners... but I've said too much. Wouldn't want to hurt Spyro's tiny brain with too many complex thoughts.

This is awesome, by the way. For the past few days I've been racking my brain for ideas and looking at all the previous installments to try to find more clues for theories. I'd say that's the sign of a top notch storyteller. So far this is one of the best ski lodges I've ever been in. =)

Thanks, HAB! I'll be posting about once a day now. Maybe every other day. And this time, I actually mean it.

Day Nine~

The CBers woke up, depressed. The farmer had informed them after returning that Sydney, their dear, kindhearted friend and fellow CBer, had been killed the previous night. Over breakfast they remembered how the farmer had walked into the house, sweaty and breathing heavily with his clothes disheveled. He'd broken the truth without preamble; as quickly as possible--and also told them of a discovery that would help their new army and its cause. He'd sent them off to bed, to hear more of the discovery in the morning. As the CBers woke up in their beds to see the light filtering into their bedroom curtains, they hopped out of bed to hear the news. 

Sydney's death had made them sad. But it also set into their hearts a determination--a real reason to go to war. If a few CBers had been hesitant before, they now felt no guilt at waging it. If it was for their friends, they'd do it. A few of the CBers were reminded of My Little Pony. They'd do anything for their friends, even though one of them was a murderer.

Of course the farmer allowed them to give Sydney a proper funeral before meeting him in the new meeting room he'd whipped up overnight.

And while she waited for the CBers to return, the farmer's assistant prepared the farmer's meeting plan while he worked on something up in his bedroom.

"I'll need to remember to talk to the farmer about the party," she mumbled while setting up an expensive-looking easel in the meeting room. It was a semi-small space, with a long mahogany table and plenty of chairs for the CBers to sit on. At the head of the table a larger chair stood, along with the easel standing next to it. A whiteboard hung on the wall behind that, with a few black dry-erase markers that were almost new. (Made from ocotpus ink down in the breedery's lab. It was a multi-purpose building, as it turned out.)

The farmer's assistant counted days in her head. Things would be busy over the next few days, she thought. The sooner the party, the better. Maybe one night they could do it. She smiled to herself. The CBers would love the party she had in mind!

Just then the farmer walked in. "I'll take it from here. Thanks for helping out. The new story upstairs is so unpredictable, I almost need to be there 24-7." The farmer paused for a moment, organizing his papers. Then he continued speaking to his assistant, who was straightening chairs in a distracted way. "Things are coming up. We must be wary. This is going to be one heck of a story."

The farmer's assistant smiled faintly. "Good that we finally have our own story, one for others to remember us by."

The farmer nodded. "My thoughts exactly. And I released it, so that the CBers can come back to visit us and remember their adventure."

"Strange, though, that someone is doing this," the farmer's assistant murmured.

"I know," the farmer replied. "I'm doing all I can to learn more, and I know it's not one of the CBers writing it. I guess we'll keep studying and see what happens!" 

TOP! 

*Dances to a song*

*Does cool dance move* 

*Important notice: I probably won't post on weekends, based on the events of Saturday and Sunday. This recent weekend was so busy, my feet practically still hurt! Anyway, here's a long chapter to make up for my absence:

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The CBers arrived at the door to the castle/house. 

As soon as they'd stepped onto the porch, the castle turned into a house, and when they stepped off (out of a sudden curiosity), the house turned into a castle. Spyro went a little overboard studying boundaries and hit his head after jumping off the roof of the castle. The drop was higher than he'd anticipated, and he'd needed to be nursed by Rosemary for a second while Booksy Owly opened the door.

"Hello?" She called into the dark house. A maid scuttled by, much like a tumbleweed in a deserted desert scene. Their alliance with the maids had been severed after the battle ended the day before. Booksy made sure that the way was clear before whispering the news of safe passage to her fellow CBers.

They walked in like a herd of cattle, bunched together and wary after another death.

"Hello?" Joss whispered. She, Shadow, and OtR had agreed to tell the farmer about how they'd been inside the murderer's hideout at the meeting. They had to keep reminding and reminding themselves to tell the farmer. Their action-packed days had not allowed much time for idleness, or thought in general, though.

"Heeeellllooooooo!" Mortifero whispered, not really whispering.

"Why are we whispering?" Gwen said grumpily.

"Yeah, exactly," Mortif realized. "HEEELLLLOOOOOOOO!" She shouted in consolation.

"We're in here!" The CBers heard the farmer's assistant call back to them. It seemed like she'd been down the hallway that led to her and the farmer's room. They tiptoed, following her voice, and entered the very dark hallway. Everything suddenly became much safer (as maids weren't allowed in that particular hallway), and they confidently strolled down the passage and into a new door that had sprung up since the last time they'd been down there.

The cozy, well-lit meeting room awaited them, and the farmer and his assistant smiled at them from their places at the table. The farmer wasted no time in beginning the meeting.

"Please, sit wherever you'd like. We have a lot to discuss as of late. The battle, our new army, plans, forts, spy meetings. And it will be a little odd, with a murderer here in our midst. But such is the way of life; nothing is ever easy or free. Keep in mind that all of our actions, whether good or bad, will have a consequence no matter what."

He paused and allowed a moment for the CBers to get themselves comfy in their smooth wooden chairs. The AEs squirmed a little, and then wiggled, and then jiggled, figeted, and tapped their feet, and finally they were content. 

With an amused glance at his assistant, the farmer pulled out one of his papers. "Okay, let's get started."

The group snapped to attention.

"Our first section of this meeting includes an introduction. You will all be tested to your limits; stretched, strained, and tried. All of you will become warriors; some stealthy, some weapon masters, some battlefield medics. Some will move even further to become animal tamers, battle planners, and even generals. I will asess you closely over the next two days, searching for strengths and weaknesses, and give you a position in the new army.

"Our next section will include the animal army idea, and we will make a plan for it. I was thinking, since the murderer has been stealing animals right out from under our noses, we should do the same. A group will be sent out soon to retrieve leftover animals from the back of the property, and another to retrieve animals--not, I repeat not, the baby dragons. They will not listen to you without the assistant anyway, but do not attempt to intrude on their work. They work alone, and they're best kept that way. We will go through training sessions with the safer animals, and they'll in turn serve us well. Any questions?"

"Yes, Farmer," Spyro began seriously. "I do have a few things to point out. The murderer could steal our animals at any time. What do you intend to do to prevent this?"

"Well, Spyro, I will keep the door locked unless I am letting CBers inside the room to help train animals. No one shall know the code except for me and my assistant."

"Good. And one more thing: When will this happen?"

"Hopefully tomorrow or today. Everything starts as soon as possible, so get ready for some work."

This answer struck something in the CBers, but still they couldn't pick out what it was! Before they could ponder the matter, the farmer continued.

"Now, there is something I must tell you. While down in the murderer's cave, before Sydney was killed, I saw ghosts. I saw what seemed to be a mouse and a cat--"

"Holly and Chip?" Moonfrost exclaimed.

"I suppose so," the farmer answered. "There were many ghosts there; people ghosts, you see. I have a theory that they're the ghosts of your dead CBers."

"Yestheyareandwe'vebeen waiting and waiting to tell you!" Joss blurted before anyone had time to butt in.

"Wait, what? You knew about them and you didn't tell us???" Moonfrost cried, apparently hurt.

"Well, we didn't want the murderer to know," Over the Rainbow explained.

"And we tried to keep quiet for fear that she would move her hideout," Shadow Dragon added.

"So we wanted to tell the farmer in secret, but the secret is out now, so we just said it before we could get interrupted yet again," Joss finished.

"When were you..." The farmer's assistant closed her mouth after the farmer gave her a look. "Wait, was that when---" Another look silenced the assistant for good.

"I'm sure you three will be willing to explain over lunch," the farmer said in a way that meant they would have to explain over lunch. Joss, Shadow, and OtR nodded.

"Anyway, I'm sure we'll need to send chatterboxers down there to investigate and ask questions to them, but only after you've had training. A study team will be organized to further observe the effects of ghost-dom, and why they're working for the murderer. Anyone who wishes to apply can come to me after the meeting."

The farmer's assistant glanced at a clock hanging on the wall. "We'd better hurry up. Lunch will be ready soon."

The farmer nodded. "Now, for the plan and summary: We will train ourselves and some animals to fight the murderer's army. You will have the chance later today to practice and recieve your placements in the army. If you have a specific spot in mind, tell my assistant and she'll write it down for you. A few of our goals are to investigate the hideout of the murderer, retrieve animals from the backyard, and of course, defeat the murderer. I'll explain more on training and teams later, during training. Now, I believe I hear the lunch alarm. We will dine together and discuss more, such as the next meeting, and current reports. Turgon, I hear that your egg has begun hatching. Congratulations. I would be honored if you told me all about it over our meal."

Turgon smiled; nothing made him happier than a good chat about his rare dragon egg. The meeting adjourned, and the group headed for the dining room.

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The new chapter: 

"Interesting," the farmer said in response to Turgon's update on his egg. The hairline crack had not grown, or moved, or done anything, but Turgon still acted like it had lifted the house up and slammed it back down. The CBers had long since learned to tune out his chattering. They were glad he slept in the nursery now.

"Now, Joss, Over the Rainbow, and Shadow Dragon, do you wish to explain how and when you were in the murderer's hideout?" the farmer said once he was quite certain that he would not offend Turgon by interrupting him. He spoke in the kind of voice that would be heard in an army, which was technically where the CBers were.

"Sure..." Joss said. "Um, S.D., do you want to start?"

So Shadow Dragon began the account of how she and her two friends ran through the tall grass to find the mine, entered the hole, found the tunnel, and the ghosts, and ran back home. Ten minutes later, as Over the Rainbow finished the story, the CBers figured out why the trio had been so long in coming for lunch a few days ago.

"Ahh, okay, that will make our strategy better, now that we know just a little bit more about our situation," the farmer said, wiping his mouth with the corner of his napkin. Most of the company had finished their soup lunch, save for the three who'd just finished talking. They'd found it hard to eat while telling a story.

"Now, I want you all to practice giving reports. Usually, the higher in status you are means you get to speak first. But we don't have ranks yet, so if those with information on a certain topic will raise their hands when the time comes, that would be great."

The farmer thought for a second. Spyro licked his bowl clean, receiving a wet slap by Dolphin. Someone had to teach him manners while Hotairballoon was gone!

"Okay, does anyone have thoughts or reports on our animal army?" the farmer inquired.

Turgon raised his hand.

"Okay, Turgon, what are your thoughts?"

"So, when my dragon egg finally hatches, I'd be willing to admit her to the army. If you wouldn't mind."

So he can brag about it, Dragonrider thought bitterly.

"Okay, if you are willing, then yes," the farmer answered thoughtfully. "Anything else?"

"And also, we should try to train the snails back to our side." 

"Ah, yes," the farmer mused. "I've ordered the maids to transfer them to a safer place. The murderer obviously has effective ways of training her animals, to have trained them so fast. We'll need to study ways to effectively train animals in the fastest way possible."

"Any other reports?" the farmer asked. "On anything?" When no one replied, he nodded, leaning back into his chair. "Okay, time to talk about training.

"So, you will all go through a sort of tryout; an audition, shall we say. I will assess you, and of course your talents won't become immediately apparent to me, but I'll get a vague idea of how much more training you need and such. There are special groups I'll be organizing soon, also, and you can suggest a group or weapon you'd like to join or have. Any more questions? I know, that was a short explanation. But I want you to be training as soon as possible, so I'm trying to keep things short."

Poetic Panda looked on thoughtfully. "Okay, sounds good. Are you going to put up a list of the certain groups you can join?"

"Yes, in the training arena, which I will show you to in half an hour. Make your food digest; prepare yourself; and get alert, because you're about to go through some intense practice!"

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