*Here the excerpt is: raw, untouched, unedited, with some bad points, but some redeeming ones too.
I haven't reread it once.
I know it needs a bit of work (I need to define Deiton better so I know what his reactions will really be, and I know I need to work on interest), but that's why authors have disclaimers, right? It the first draft!
I hope you like it XD *

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“How exactly do you plan on reaching this audacious goal?”
Iya smiled. “Deiton himself will help me. You’ll know by the end of today how well this works.”

Iya hung in the rafters—it had taken her a while but she’d finally found a place to perch herself—with a piece of wood in her hands, meditating. As the smooth slivers fell away, the draconic outline revealed itself, first and eye, then and ear, and more gradually, the wings and tail. She thought back to her time at the woodcraft hall. She still recalled the smell of the ebony wood, of fresh leaves, of smoke and nature. Of everything, she missed that place the most. A fleeting glimpse of her friend’s face flickered across her memory. She saw the brown hair, the wild eyes for a moment, then it vanished like smoke. Dawn, her golden form spread as far across her legs as the creature could manage, nudged her consolingly. The perfume of the dragon’s home returned however, and she pulled back into the present.
She looked up to find Deiton staring straight back. She almost jumped a mile into the air. Her knife slipped, nicking her thumb. Iya frowned, and dismissed him, turning away.
She could have sworn that the Player growled. Her eyes darted over for a brief instant. “Iya,” the big man said, hands on hips. “Get down here.”
“You can’t be serious.” She burst out before she could help herself. More Players had arrayed themselves behind Deiton. Honestly, what did they have against her? She had only been the Odd Player. Her eyes touched on Falcon’s. He winked. She paused. Carefully, she turned back to her woodwork, her head tilted just so for maximum impact. “You better be careful. You don’t know everything that’s happening.”
He sneered. “And you do? I don’t know about the rest of you,” He glanced back at the rest with a winning smile. “But I am tired of your posturing.”
Iya didn’t dign to comment. In the corner of her eye, she saw the Burley Player’s face grow redder and redder. Daintily, she carved teeth into her creation. As always, the wood did as it was told, yielding to her knife blade. One sliver fell away, drifting down to Deiton’s boots.
“Hey, I’m talking to you. You know what? I’m also tired of your arrogance. You think you can just push me around now you have those creatures hanging around you?” Dawn hissed, and the other two became more alert, their necks arching angrily. “You think you can send Falcon here to come and get me like some servent?”
The Player rather missed the point. You still came. Falcon smiled slightly. Mental note: beware of Falcon’s tactics. Again, Iya didn’t twitch to Deiton’s attack. More shavings from her wooden creature fell. She made the neck long and sinuous, and it arched in pride.
“…Are you even listening to me?”
Silence.
Deiton searched for a way to get to her. “You won’t find it. I’m just that good at it.” She worked on the wings, scraping off the debris. Deiton was almost there.
“Bran, give me a hand.”
Iya leaned forward. “I have a knife.”
“I have a brain.” The panicky motions bellow ceased. “You’re an insolent brat, you know that?”
Yes. She thought smugly.
The wood littered the floor now, and one Player almost tripped. Rarely had she seen any figure declare itself so quickly. Good tidings, provided she remained diligent in her caution, always followed. Deiton was almost there. . . .
“Get down here you forsaken hunk of rotten meat!” He groped for other words. She saw the jealousy, and the rage flair within him, then the chill in his eyes that was what she was looking for. As she felt the cold ripple tingle down her spine, she knew her instincts to be true. Probing deeper, the coiled rage revealed itself, the calculation to get her to admit to what he wanted—to discredit herself. That out of the way, he could move on to bigger and better things.
She watched with practiced detachment, eyes lidded.
“I demand—“ Any man who could perform that well had to be monitored studiously indeed. To bad no one had noticed that sooner. “I demand that you get your baker’s ass down here.”
She blinked. He was pulling rank?
“You’re above that eh? Well I, a land owner’s son, demand—“ She tuned him out, despite his size. She noticed her anger begin to rise. She gave her creature eyes.
“. . . as land owner to land owner, answer me!” His face was so red, it could have exploded.
“I deny the allegations. Not only are they false, but malicious too. Where do you get your information?”
“None of your business.”
“Sorry,” She set down her pristine dragon statue. “But I wouldn’t trust Rachelle.”
His face paled. “You leave her out of this.”
“I hit a nerve? Imagine that, you have one.”
“You sorry #$% of a &*%^!, you can’t get anything right. your parents are ashamed of you.”
Her eyes caught his, anger flaring out like daggers.
“That’s right, you can’t talk worth shit and people wince at your name.” He sneered, certain he had her. “You disgrace Players everywhere.”
She jumped down so quickly Deiton couldn’t react. “I challenge you Deiton. May the looser leave these people forever.”
He looked into her eyes. He flinched. He wasn’t used to people, let alone girls, be level with his eyes.
His pride gave him no choice. “I accept.”

* * *

I appologize for the shoddy ending.
I promise when Dec rolls around I'll fix it. I need to build up to this point, and this writing doesn't quite do that. Still, I figured it was about time.
I hope you liked it anyway. :)