Caderver Sevarin looked on as his father, Sirul, talked to the concil. He hated this waiting. He wished something could be done about the rising problem of Man'do'an. Rufus Sevarin, a stocky, red-haired Shistavanen, crept up to him. "Has father decided yet?" he asked in a simpering voice. "No, go away" snapped Caderver irritably." Go skin a Gorg or something" Rufus looked at Caderver, sour-faced. "Fine"he said "but father will tell me frist. He always does" Rufus turned round and stomped off. Cadaver made a dissapproving sound and turned back to Sirul. "So" Sirul said "it is decided. We shall-"