Getting to freedom took a bit longer than expected. Sure, the ladder led out of the sewer … but into another maze of artificial and then possibly natural tunnels. Fortunately, the kitsune's survival skills proved to be adequate to help him to hunt down sustenance during his journeys … until, at last, he has come out … here. Wherever here is.

It's night time. At first glance, it looked like the city, but with all the lights out. However, it appears that these ruins have not been inhabited for quite some time, save, perhaps, for those not inclined to advertise their presence. In the midst of these ruins can be found a graveyard … and the tunnel came out of a building near what once was some sort of fountain, though it certainly no longer functions.

The kitsune, still dripping with muck that he can't even begin to describe, walks over to the fountain, trying to see if he can find water there somewhere.

There is indeed water in the fountain, but it is quite stagnant, having a smell of its own – though, admittedly, not as potent as what the fox has come out of.

Sighing, Francisco decides it will do for the moment, until he gets back to civilization, or finds another water supply, and attempts to clean himself up as best as he can.

A chill wind blows across the cemetary, stirring up the carpet of mist that stubbornly clings to it. (Perhaps there's just something special about cemetaries, to invite such dread 'decor'.)

Francisco looks up from his self-cleansing, sniffing at the air. This is not a place he feels he wants to hang around longer than he has to.

On the wind, there's a sound, like chanting. No, not "like" chanting … There are definitely some voices coming from somewhere over yonder … out of sight, past several large mausoleums and crumbling statues.

The kitsune pricks up his ears, trying to see if he can make out the voices more.

Whatever the voices are chanting, it's in some tongue that is still alien to the kitsune's ears – definitely not in any language he knew before coming here, nor in the language that he somehow "learned" after putting on that strange helmet.

Francisco puts the matter aside for the moment, and continues to wash the muck off himself. "Eeuuu," he muses, "another shirt practically ruined."

"Don't worry," comes a voice from some other source. "I'm sure you can get another." This is followed by a giggle. As for the voice, it sounded female … and in a language not used on this world … and not English.

The fox looks up, ears perked right up and looks around. "Who's there?" he asks.

The voice again avoids any attempt at placement. "You may call me Amaranth, five-tail."

Francisco looks around the place again, trying to locate the speaker. "Alright… Amaranth. Where are you?"

A breeze carries scents on it. Of course, there have been plenty of scents before for the kitsune's sensitive nose to pick up, but his bathing – even in the stagnant water – helped a little to remove some of the distracting smells. Now, he picks up smells of other beings, of various races, from the direction he heard the chanting. He also catches whiffs of something like perfume … incense, perhaps? … and smoke.

"I am here," answers Amaranth. "Now, tell me something of yourself, five-tail. Who are you, and what brings you here?"

Francisco pauses for a moment, considering if he should say anything. "You can call me Francisco… as in San, and I'm not exactly here by choice."

"Who among us are?" responds the voice, with a hint of laughter behind it.

"Oh – you are here because of those poodles as well then," the kitsune asks, with a slightly cock of his head.

This is met with chiming laughter … laughter that has a faintly unsettling quality behind it, for a reason that's hard to place, just as hard as the location from which the voice is coming. "No poodles. Though I'd love to use that as an insult."

Francisco says, "If they want insults, they've got a lot coming to them."

"Oh, really? Well, five-tail, you're the mischievous one, aren't you? Surely you can get even with a few tricks," Amaranth responds.

Francisco hrms, nodding a little to the faceless voice. "A couple – not as many as I would like to though."

A cloud passes overhead, momentarily obscuring the glitter of the starry sky, and bathing the graveyard in darker shadow … darkness that even the fox's keen eyes can't peer through. The cloud passes, and when it does, the kitsune can see outlined against the sky a silhouette of a female in a kimono, holding a folded fan, sitting on top of a broken stone wall.

Francisco squints a little, trying to make out the figure. "Hey, I've just realized – where did you learn to speak Japanese?" he asks, starting to step over towards her.

"The same way you did, five-tail," the figure replies. More details are evident now … such as the pointed ears atop her head, the long silken strands of hair blown in the wind, the silken gown with patterns of cherry blossoms … the ceramic mask on her face that gives her a doll-like expression …

Continuing to walk over to the female, Francisco asks, "You're from Earth too then?"

The ceramic mask appears to be sculpted to accomodate – and/or suggest – the shape of a soft-muzzled vulpine. "Too?" replies the figure on the wall. "Small world, this. Such a coincidence that our paths should cross, don't you think?"

"I can't say I really believe too much in coincidences," says Francisco.

"Very well then. I asked before how you came here. Let me elaborate, then. Not to this cemetary, I ask, but to this world," the female says, idly flipping open the fan, then shutting it again.

Francisco pauses for a moment, suspicious of the person, particularly a vulpine looking mask and someone who knows his native tounge. "A couple of people back there thought it would be best if I took a vacation… here."

"So kind of them," says the female with only a theatric attempt at cowling a sarcastic tone. "You could say that I'm here on 'vacation' as well."

Francisco nods a little, "I see… some people would indeed say that is a… co-incidence."

"But not an unintentional coincidence, entirely," the one on the wall replies. "But I have adapted. Have you?"

Francisco smiles wryly. "I don't think I would be in this state if I had."

The female giggles. "So, the poodles did this to you?"

Francisco sighs and nods, "Yeah… bunch of stuck up stupid looking dogs they are… Led by some one calling himself Useless do Vart or something"

"You can get even. Poodles are no match against an enraged kitsune," the female purrs.

Now Francisco's eyes go wide as well as he ears perking upright. "You know what I am?" he asks.

"Oh, please, five-tail. What were you expecting?" the female replies, snapping her fan out, and demurely obscuring half her face (masked as it is) with it, peering over the top as she turns to one side, letting her dark tresses spill over one shoulder.

"To be honest, not that," he replies, "Everyone here I have met so far has no knowledge of the Kitsune."

"Well, not everyone is ignorant. Not entirely," Amaranth amends. "But what does it matter? There is no way to return home."

Francisco narrows his eyes slightly, "You are so sure?"

"Absolutely certain, five-tail," Amaranth replies, with an icy chill to her voice.

Francisco asks bluntly. "Why?"

Amaranth laughs, snapping away her fan. "Because I know all there is to know about this world, five-tail. And the ways off of it are not open to the likes of you – or me."

"All there is about this world? Surely not," Francisco says.

"Don't mock me," the female replies, sounding far less congenial. More clouds roll in, with an accompanying, pervasive darkness.

Francisco says, "Mocking you was not my intention. This world just seems so strange for someone to know about all of it – especially as you say you came from Earth too?"

There is no reply from the voice. No sign of the silhouette. The only sounds to be heard are those caused by the wind blowing through the cenotaphs and mausoleums … and that regular chanting.

"That is what you said, isn't it?" asks Francisco again.

There is no reply.

Francisco walks to the wall. "Hey! Where did you go?"

Again, there is no answer. The wall bears no trace of the female's presence. There is a faint scent as of flowers, but it is nearly overwhelmed by the pervasive smell of death and decay.

Francisco looks around, along the length of the wall, "Amaranth? Where are you?"

Once again, there is no reply. The fox is alone in this place of death and ruin. The signs of life offered by the steady chanting do nothing to alleviate the dismal atmosphere.

Francisco frowns as he cannot find any trace of the female. "What is it with people here?" he asks himself.

Nobody answers the fox.

The kitsune sighs, and with another gust of wind that makes him shiver, he decides he's better try and get elsewhere now.

Elsewhere seems to offer few appealing choices from here. There would be the tunnel the fox came out of, the direction of the chanting voices … or any random direction, really. Judging from the glittering band that cuts across the sky, it's not that hard to pick out which way is east or west … but it's still not clear just where the cemetary lies in relation to any desired destination.

Francisco is certainly unsure which way to go, but decides to head away from the cemetary for one thing.

"Away from the cemetary" is a bit hard to judge, but the tall ruined buildings visible in the distance probably are NOT multi-story mausoleums from the look of it.

However, they seem to be past the source of the chanting. If the fox wishes to avoid contact, he will have to do some circling around.

Francisco instead decides to head for them… perhaps he may be able to find this Amaranth there again. He is certainly intrigued by her.

As the fox heads through the cemetary, he can see lights ahead – flickering flame – though not a campfire, by any means. There are multiple candles placed here and there on every available flat surface. In the middle of a rubble-strewn "clearing", there are three strangers in robes. By the scent, the fox can tell what the robes obscure: One is a feline, the other is a bat (the wings also give him away), and the third is a raccoon. There is another scent as well – a creature that smells almost like a fox. In the middle of them, there is a short rocky structure … an altar? And, yes, as they move, a prone figure can be seen lying on this stone slab.

Francisco rrfs to himself? "What is this? Klu-Klux-Klan revival meeting or something?" he wonders.

The three figures stop in their chanting, crying out in alarm as they look about for the source of the voice. Their hoods give them decidedly inferior visibility … and obscure the ears and mouth of the bat, as well, no doubt minimizing any "sonar" ability the bat may have.

Francisco's ears flatten against his head slightly, wondering if it was he they heard, looking around for any cover just in case.

Cover comes in many forms – All around are weathered statues in various states of crumbling ruin, tombstones, broken walls that once were parts of mausoleums or other monuments, and gnarled trees. In short, there are plenty of places to hide, and the three hooded ones are the ones the most in the open just now. They seem to realize that, as they spread out away from the altar, each looking in a different direction. The bat is faced the opposite way, and the others show no signs of noticing the fox.

Francisco crouches down best he can, hoping his fur color plus the muck he's still covered in, along with the darkness conceals him.

"Come out!" cries out the raccoon. "Show yourself!"

The kitsune remains silent and hidden from their direct view.

The bound figure on the altar squirms a bit in place, a muffled sound giving away the presence of a gag. By the glint of candlelight on the fur, the fox-like tail, and those large ears, it must be one of those fennecs like those in the Bazaar.

Francisco sighs, noticing now that it is indeed a fox of sorts on the altar. He can't just simply let this fennec meet whatever fate the others have intended for him – which while he doesn't know what that might be, imagines it's not pleasant.

He looks around on the ground, and finds a small stone. Aiming it a fair distance away from him, he throws it.

All three of the hooded strangers jump at the sound. The bat squeaks, "Somebody threw that!"

The raccoon says, "Hey, the ritual is scratched. Let's get out of here!"

Francisco watches the hooded figures carefully to see if they will bolt.

The feline yowls, then at last nods … and bolts out of the clearing, directly opposite Francisco's hiding place. The raccoon does the same, while the bat prefers the more failsafe approach, and simply takes to the air, squeaking as he flees.

The kitsune waits for a couple of moments, just in case they return. When they don't seem to be, he emerges from his hiding place and moves swiftly over to the altar.

The fennec is still securely bound to the altar, her white dress stained here and there, with signs that her abduction was not peacefully executed, though she does not appear to be wounded. She is gagged, but squirms at the kitsune approaches, her eyes full of fear, recoiling as much as her limited movement will allow.

The "altar" isn't truly an altar, though it surely is being used for that purpose. Rather, it is a small crypt, probably intended to hold the body of a very small (but undoubtedly important) being.

Francisco smiles to try and show he's not going to harm her, as he walks over. When he gets there, he tries to find out how she is tied down.

It's a fairly straightforward approach – She's just wrapped with several coils of rope, knotted probably in the back somewhere. She doesn't appear to actually be tied down to the altar itself. Untended, she could probably eventually "inchworm" off the edge of the altar, but from there, escape would be rather problematic. She appears to be trying to do this right now, in danger of falling off the far side of the altar, still viewing Francisco with fear. The remaining candles don't illuminate the fox all that much, but her large ears probably allow her some understanding of her surroundings in addition to sight.

The kitsune tries to reach down and get at the knot – it's pretty difficult to get to.

Fortunately, between the kitsune's nimble fingers and good-old-fashioned sharp claws (My, but those are useful!) it's now just a matter of unwinding the rope, as the knot is no longer an obstacle.

Francisco does just that, unwinding the rope fast as he can, yet it seems slow-going.

As soon as the bindings have been loosened enough … the fennec wriggles free, and tumbles to the ground. She begins half-crawling, tearing cords free, and pulling the gag free. She begins to scream – "HELP! HELP ME, PLEASE! SOMEONE!"

Francisco's ears flatten and he says to the fennec. "Sshhh! Quiet – I'm helping you out – you want those hooded goons to come back?"

The fennec stumbles over some broken stones, and cowers behind a cenotaph that looks pretty much like an obelisk decorated in carved laurels and runes. "You … Who are you? You aren't the ghost… " She says the last as half question, half statement.

The 5-tailed fox's ears prick up a little again, and he tilts his head slightly. "Ghost?" he asks. "I'm certainly no ghost. As for who I am, my name is Francisco – as in San. Might I ask who you are, and how you came to be here?"

The Zerda trembles, then says, with a light but exotic accent, "Raishe, daughter of Avram the Zolk dealer. I met some friends in the Bazaar, and they promised to show me a wonderful puppeteer who had set up shop across the way… " She bites her claws nervously. "Oh, I was such a fool!"

"They don't really sound very friendly to me," notes the kitsune. "Also, everyone gets taken to be a food at some time." This said with a little sigh.

The Zerda shivers, still hiding behind the cenotaph. "Well … I … I'm terribly sorry … uhm … Thank you for rescuing me. My … my father will be very pleased, of course. If you are not a ghost … What ARE you?"

Francisco steps back a pace, keeping his paws in front of him in plain view – hoping to look less threatening. "I'm just a fox – well, Kitsune to be precise. Also, I'm not at my best right now," says Francisco, still needing to clean himself up.

The Zerda peeks back out. "Yes, I see. Where did you get the extra tai… " She trails off, as her eyes go wide, and she gasps. "Oh MY! You … you aren't Nohbakim, are you?"

Francisco perks an ear? "Nohbakim?"

"Yes … Nohbakim. The strange ones. But … No, you don't look strange enough … " The Zerda blinks at herself. "Oh! Please, I did not mean to be rude. Please forgive me. A thousand pardons for my careless tongue."

The kitsune blinks, but smiles. "It's okay – no offence taken."

Raishe nods, and at last comes out from behind the cenotaph, smoothing her skirts a bit, and readjusting a sash. She looks about, casting worried looks at the shadows. "We are not safe here."

Francisco looks around also, but not seeing anything turns back to look at the fennec and nods. "I agree – I don't suppose you know the way out of here?"

The fennec looks around, then shrinks a bit. "Not really, sir. But I believe the city is in the direction my enemies fled." She points toward some of the ruined buildings.

"Alright," Francisco says, "Let's go." He walks in the direction indicated, looking back for Raishe to follow.

Raishe timidly follows the kitsune. Once outside of the candles, the kitsune blends in all too well, but the fennec must be making up for the lack of light by following sounds. Every once in a while, though, she whispers a query to find out if the kitsune, indeed, is still there.

After a short while, Francisco pauses and turns around. "You sure you wouldn't like to stay closer?

Raishe halts, ears twitching. "Sir … someone is here."

The kitsune stops, and listens. "Are you sure?" he asks, lowering his voice. "I don't hear or smell anyone."

There's a giggle from somewhere nearby. It defies location, and the rapid jerking around of the fennec's head hints that she is having difficulty locating the source of the voice as well.

"Why, thank you, five-tail. Have you brought me a new friend to play with?" comes the disembodied voice.

Francisco's eyes narrow slightly. "Come on," he beckons to the fennec. "Let's keep moving."

The fennec dashes forward … colliding with the kitsune from behind. "EEP!" she cries out in alarm.

Francisco's ears perk? *oof* He regains his balance quickly, however… that voice… something about it seems familiar?

Another breeze stirs the mists … and then Francisco can sense a presence … no, not smell, not hear … but just SENSE. But his senses catch up, and he can see silhouetted amongst the cenotaphs a tall, willowy figure in a tattered kimono, threads dancing on the wind, intermingled with long strands of silky black hair. The light of the Procession seems to make that ceramic mask glow faintly.

Francisco's attention turns from the fennec to the figure. "Amaranth? Friend? … to play with?"

"Why yes," Amaranth replies, as she saunters slowly forward, but still a fair distance away. "To be young and fair again. And I would be certain to show you my gratitude, five-tail."

There's that smell again … that sweet fragrance with just a touch of … balm. It smells something like a funeral parlor, perhaps. These tombs have been abandoned for too long for them to really account for the smell of death.

The kitsune steps back, searching for where Raishe is around him. Something about Amaranth is making him very uneasy.

Raishe grabs onto Francisco, clutching him tightly. Her teeth chatter.

Francisco holds onto the fennec. "What do you want?" he demands of Amaranth.

"Her," Amaranth answers. "Of course, she's not perfect, but Zerda are about as close as I can come to the real thing. As for yourself … Well, you may have a tail more than I did, but … " She breaks off in a giggle.

The young Zerda shivers, shrinking down behind Francisco.

"The real thing?" asks Francisco, and also notices what else Amaranth said. "A tail more? You… you mean are Kitsune too?"

Amaranth stops giggling, and glides across the ground. Four wispy tails follow her. She moves without a sound of footfall.

Francisco continues to hold the fennec, to reassure her best he can, but his gaze is intently on Amaranth. "Don't come any closer," he growls at her.

Amaranth immediately halts. "So, does this mean that I misunderstood your intent?"

"What intent?" Francisco asks. "Oh – you mean you think I am holding her for you? Not in the slightest."

"Ah, so it is?" Amaranth responds, the muzzle of her porcelain mask bobbing down, then up again. "Apologies, five-tail. Then I shall consider the two of you as guests. Make yourselves comfortable. Would you care for a story?"

Francisco's eyes narrow, "What story?"

Amaranth glides along a curving path, remaining the same distance from Francisco, but moving into the shadow of a crumbling wall. "The one I know best. Mine."

The Zerda whispers loudly to Francisco, "Who – what is she? I don't understand either of you!"

Francisco turns his head back to the fennec. "I'm not sure what she is; certainly I don't believe her claims," he says, attempting to calm her slightly. "I, however, am a Kitsune, and won't harm you. Indeed, Kitsunes do have some duty in protecting all other foxes. At least where I come from… "

Raishe nods slightly, looking to Francisco with a look that indicates she doesn't quite understand him, but says, "You saved my life. I would be a fool to fear you now."

Francisco smiles back at her, then looks to Amaranth. "Go on then," he says warily.

"As you request," giggles Amaranth, and she vanishes into the shadows. For a brief instant, there is silence … but then music can be heard faintly. As with Amaranth's voice earlier, it is impossible to place the direction the music is coming from. From the frustrated look on the fennec's face as her head turns this way and that, she is having no more luck than the Kitsune. It is a music that speaks of the land of Francisco's kin, something that does not belong on this alien world.

The kitsune shivers slightly, clearly uncomfortable at hearing such a thing again. He's ready to call out to Amaranth to demand to know what is going on.

Some figures can be seen moving in the shadows. "Figures" is the term best applied to them, because while they look humanoid, they aren't likely to be of any of the races Francisco has so far encountered. Light reflects off of porcelain and off of stained and tattered, once-regal garments. Puppets. They are larger-than-life puppets in tattered kimonos and robes. At first, it seems as if they are being moved of their own accord, but, no, there are shadows around them. With each "puppet" can be seen three shadowy figures, only vaguely humanoid, their lower bodies disappearing into nothingness, and their upper forms nightmarish and twisted.

Each group of three shadows guides the movements of the puppets, and the puppets move in time to the music. By their movements, a story is being told … a play …

Francisco's hand gently squeezes Raishe's arm softly, letting her know that he's still here as he tries to make sense of what is being shown.

Raishe is quiet, almost to the point of holding her breath. She keeps close to Francisco, her gaze fixated on the macabre scene as it plays out.

A figure moves into the forefront. This one, dressed in a woman's kimono, has a porcelain mask that suggests the face of a human. However, the tips of four tails can be seen poking out from underneath the rear of the fabric.

The figure glides along, then halts, as her gaze turns toward another figure – this one has the attire and mask of a human male – with no tails visible amongst his garments. She makes a "shy" gesture, turning away, hiding her face with a fan as he approaches. The exchanges, although there is no dialogue, hint at some sort of courtly romance. In the background, several small foxes appear, each with several tails. At least one has what might be golden fur … though the "puppets" are so degraded, and the fur is so faded, and the night is so dark, it is hard to tell. The foxes seem to be conferring with each other, stealing glances at the scene, making disapproving shakes of their heads, and then adopting mischievous demeanors.

Raishe gasps at the sight of the multi-tailed little non-morphic foxes. She looks questioningly at Francisco.

Francisco doesn't immediately notice the fennec looking at him, concentrating on the 'play'.

The foxes bounce around, buoyed by their barely-visible "puppeteers", and goad what might be some sort of dog (a very gaunt-looking one, at that), until it appears frightened by their presence, then angry, and chases them. They dash past the lady in the kimono, and hide under her skirts. The dog goes after the lady in the kimono, barking wildly. The man draws a sword to face the dog. The woman makes a gesture of fear, and falls back, as the foxes scatter away.

The kitsune perks an ear? He's unsure as to what he just saw there.

The little foxes watch as the woman falls back, collapsing into the folds of her own kimono. Her mask disappears, as do her tails. Then, a small, multi-tailed fox scampers out of the kimono, dashing away, frightened. The man recoils in fear. He pokes at the kimono, finding it empty. He looks in the direction the fox retreated. He collapses to his knees, ignoring the dog, his pose dejected.

Francisco sighs, "Is that your story? It's not very original… Stories have it that there were many Kitsune females who tried to entice human males, only to be discovered."

The man-puppet turns his sword on himself, then collapses. There is a long pause, the music falling silent except for a single pound on a drum, at long intervals. And then the shadows carry the puppets away.

The music starts again. The multi-tailed foxes appear again, seeming to be conferring among themselves, in a somewhat mirthful demeanor. Another fox appears, this one with four tails – this one the same which fled the dog. The four-tailed one attacks the other foxes, scattering them, but they soon overpower her, snapping at her viciously.

Francisco's hand closes around Raishe's arm again – this is not the kind of thing any fox should see.

Raishe shudders, whimpering quietly.

The other foxes drag the four-tailed one along. Some of the "puppeteers" bring out a large hoop, decorated with streamers in faded colors that blow in the wind. The defeated four-tailed fox is hurled through the hoop, and falls to the ground. The multi-tailed foxes dance around the hoop, and then they, and the hoop itself, depart, disappearing into the shadows.

Watching the remaining shadows, Francisco asks, "So – that was you? But why did you get sent… here?"

No one answers Francisco's question. From the place on the ground where the four-tailed fox was thrown, a figure rises, dressed in the same kimono the "woman" wore earlier. It is the same one, but the porcelain mask is no longer that of a human. It is that of a fox. She glides this way and that, as if rushing to escape, but the multi-tailed foxes appear, holding up poles with streamers that bar her way. She drops to her knees in the center, covering her face, her body shaking as if sobbing. The foxes, meanwhile, dance about with their poles, keeping her pinned in, and then disappear again into the shadows.

Francisco continues to watch, but still is not sure he understands.

While the kneeling figure appears to lament, yet a new figure appears on the scene, rising from an open pit in the ground. This one wears robes even more tattered than any of the others, and sports a porcelain mask that resembles a feline … but then the figure removes that mask and puts on another, this one resembling a human. The newcomer approaches, and gestures to the kneeling fox-woman, prompting her to rise. The stranger bows, gestures as if conveying something, then removes its mask, and offers it to the fox-woman.

The fox-woman recoils in horror, and flees, but as she tries to, the foxes appear again, holding their poles, and she cannot pass. She rushes about, her way blocked again and again. At last, she collapses. The tattered stranger approaches, and offers something to the fox-woman. It is a dagger.

Francisco tilts his head to one side? Still at a loss to what is happening.

The fox-woman takes the dagger, and collapses. The music again goes silent, except for the toll of that solitary drum. And then, the music starts again, as haunting as ever, as the fox-woman slowly rises. She has no mask. She has no face. And the tattered stranger is gone.

The faceless woman hides amongst the tombs. Some new figures approach. These are wearing robes … robes just like the ones that Francisco saw on three strangers earlier this evening, the ones who were about to do who-knows-what to the Zerda who now clings to him. They move about in a circle, waving their arms about, engaging in some sort of ritual. The faceless woman comes out to them, and they gesture as if conferring, the robed ones bowing and genuflecting to her and generally seeming to worship her.

Francisco looks over at Raishe momentarily.

Raishe looks as if she would curl in upon herself and disappear into nothingness if she possibly could. Tears are running down the sides of her muzzle, and she shivers as she watches, unable to pull her eyes away.

Francisco sighs softly at seeing the fennec like this, and gently uses a hand to try and turn her head away from this particular 'scene'.

The robed ones depart from the faceless woman, and the faceless woman vanishes as well. There is a pause, and a new scene. One of the robed ones walks along. Another robed figure appears, evidently female. By the gestures, it seems that the robed male has intentions toward the female, but she shuns him. He does not relent, and she becomes more insistent in her resistance. At last, she slaps him, and strides away. He pauses, then appears to get angry. He stalks away, summoning the two other robed ones. They confer, appear to argue, and then seize the female, taking her along, binding her, taking her to the faceless one.

There is more conferring, and the bound female struggles, but the faceless one reaches forward … and takes the bound female's mask away. Immediately, the bound female collapses, and the faceless one puts the mask on herself. The robed males seem overjoyed, as the now-masked one moves forward, showering affection upon the one who was scorned.

Francisco shakes his head, thinking this is really… bizarre.

At last, the now-masked one backs away, dropping her mask to the ground. She bows, then fades into the shadows. The robed ones pick up the fallen female and her mask, and toss her into the open pit that the tattered stranger rose from earlier. Then, they skulk off, disappearing into the shadows.

The music ceases.

"Can we leave now?" whispers the Zerda in a very small voice.

Francisco looks to the fennec, nodding a little. "Very soon," he says. Calling out to Aramanth, he asks, "And your point?"

"Begone, five-tail," Amaranth calls out. "If you return, you will not leave again … except if I should choose to wear your form."

"Wear my form?" Francisco asks, then shivers and looks to Raishe. "Yes, let's go." He's not sure he wants to hear what was meant by that.

Raishe clings to Francisco. "My family will be forever grateful to you, sir!"

Francisco is right now not too bothered about that, and stands up quickly, taking the fennec's hand.

"Which way did you say to go?" he asks her.

Raishe points toward the distant buildings. "That way, sir. That is my best guess."

Francisco nods. "Best is good enough for me right now."

…

The kitsune starts to head in the direction indicated, keeping Raishe close to him all the way – at least until they are away from this place.

The journey through the graveyard is unpleasant at best, but no more ghosts or monsters hinder the way. The worst is that, upon reaching signs of life, it would appear that many of the denizens of this part of town would like to prey upon the two … but, for whatever reason, they do not act upon such urges, perhaps deeming Francisco's scent to be indicative of someone without any shekels to his name.

Eventually, they come to less threatening grounds. Here and there, street lights actually mark the way, and there are citizens genteel enough to recoil at the appearance of the two vulpines. Raishe is more certain of herself now, and leads the way through some run-down streets, and to a building that looks as if it should be condemned, though there are lights inside. "Our home," she explains. "You will be welcome here. Please do come in. My father will insist upon showing you his hospitality."

Nodding, the kitsune says, "Thank you. Of course, best I would ask for now is if his hospitality was in the form of a bath." He looks at the fennec and grins.

The Zerda covers her muzzle, her ears blushing. "Of course, sir." She goes to the door, knocks a few times, then knocks twice more, then pauses, then knocks again. There is a long pause, then the sound of a heavy bolt being slid away, and the door opens, revealing a middle-aged male fennec. He gasps upon seeing his daughter, and sweeps her up in his embrace, apparently not noticing Francisco at all.

Francisco stands off to one side for the moment, quite understanding the lack of interest in him, apart from the fact that he still has a rather pungent odour from the sewers still.

Another fennec appears, this one female, most probably Raishe's mother. She begins wailing, crying out in a tongue that Francisco cannot comprehend, but which he has heard used in the Bazaar before. The female fennec embraces Raishe as well, then at last notices Francisco – mainly by first sniffing at the air, and then in Francisco's direction. She makes some query to Raishe, and receives a response. By the reaction, the message must have gotten across – as Francisco is ushered into the household, and a younger fennec child rushes off to another room with a bucket of hot water.

The kitsune smiles at the fennecs, and says a thank you to them in Standard.

The interior of the house is very nicely done, not what one might suspect from the humble exterior, though it is by no means the house of one especially wealthy – just dutiful to tidiness and with a sense of aesthetic. Once the door is securely bolted closed again, Francisco is treated to the hospitality of Avram the Zolk Merchant, and it is made quite clear to him, after a much-needed bath and meal, and a place to rest his head, that he is indeed welcome in this household.

Francisco is not that bothered about hospitality right now, though he really appreciated being able to get cleaned up and get his clothes into be washed. What he has to wear now is, though very colorful and very comfortable, still a little bland by his standards, and wonders to himself if their hospitality will extend to getting something a little more his style in this material.