Good old Darkside. While it doesn't have any sort of the charm and class of the Craftsman's Quarter or the Nobles' district, its many abandoned and condemned buildings make for meeting places of a curiously secure nature. At least, it's less likely for anyone to wander in and overhear you when you're in a run-down deathtrap of a warehouse. This one has all the amenities: circulating dust, discarded crates, vermite nests, escape routes – the works. Truely five-star excellence for the discriminating skulker.

The dust is curled about in angry spirals as an Eeee – or perhaps the ghost of one – ducks amongst ancient crumbling rafters. It's only when it pauses, dangling from a narrow wooden spar, that it becomes obvious how dreadful the poor creature looks. Its hair, long and knotted, is caked with dirt, its clothing a tattered mismatched motley of funerary gray. But, there's a gleam in his – or perhaps her – bright brown eyes, and the bundle it carries in skinny arms could very well be a sword.

A matching heap of gray sits patiently on a crate below, draped in cloth and cowl like some sort of meditating monk. On either side stand thuggish looking 'disciples', one somewhat lean, the other a bit heavier-looking.

There's a moment's pause, the tilt of a head to indicate recognition, perhaps, and then the tattered bat lands neatly beside the crate. Dusty-dark wings are furled. "I'm here," a quiet and quite female voice murmurs.

The cowled head on the gray heap looks up, just enough light filtering through the cracks in the roof to profile a long, reptilian snout and a pattern suggesting scales. "Hello again, Ambassador. It's been a while. I'm sorry the locale wasn't more pleasant, but I think my welcome on this island hasn't been renewed yet."

The Ambassador nods, smiling faintly. "I appreciate the risk you took to be here." She glances to either side of the cowled figure at the oddly-matched thugs, then back. "I think," she says, quietly. "That what I have to say should only be heard by you."

"Well… if you say so," replies the reptile. "Otto, Wart… keep an eye on things outside. See that the Ambassador hasn't been followed, and that no-one will interrupt our meeting." Some boney paws under the gray cape make shooing motions at the toughs, "Now, what can the Wooden Shekel do for you?"

Brishen leans against a nearby crate, her sword tucked along her side. "I think it's more what we can do for each other." Her smile is bright and sharp amidst the dust. "A long time ago, you and I made an agreement, to find a certain group of Savanites." She tilts her head slightly, "Given where I saw you last, you very well may have found them."

"I have contacts in many places, so I get around. Still, that'd wouldn't be an unreasonable deduction," hisses the Wooden Shekel smoothly.

Brishen's wings rustle, faintly as she nods. "But, perhaps you haven't found all of them. Perhaps, given where I met you last, you would be interested in securing the freedom of more than you had originally intended."

The top part of the hood tilts. "I'm listening."

Brishen raises a furry brow as the faintest hint of a smile traces its way across her muzzle. "It so happens that my home is not in what one would consider the most desirable location. Nevertheless, it is one to which a certain amount of peculiar traffic is expected and one that is, perhaps, safer than the shadowed quarter of the city where you may otherwise bring those you intend to free."

"It has a sort of zany charm about it," agrees the shiga. "Am I to understand that you may be considering a guest wing?"

Brishen nods, then brushes a lock of hair from her eyes in a very familiar gesture. "Yes. And it does."

The reptile spends a few moments contemplating. "Well, it would be rude of me to avail myself and my associates of your hospitality without some form of recompense were we to accept your offer. Has something been inconveniencing you lately?"

Brishen crosses her arms, tilting her head a little as she looks at the shiga. Her brow furrows with affected concern. "For now, I don't think I could host as many guests as I would like. I have relatives visiting that are rather noisy and quite unpleasant. I'm sure you know the type. But, perhaps we could make arrangements so that some of these guests find it in their best interest to take up residence elsewhere."

Brishen rests a hand on her chest. "I would certainly not wish to pit guest against guest, but perhaps you and your associates could assist me in cleaning those portions of my home which I've regretfully not had the chance to attend to myself."

"Well now, it really isn't my business to get involved in familial disputes, particularly high-profile familial disputes," hisses the shiga, leaning his head down to prop it up on his knuckles. "Things could get dreadfully sticky. Rumor has it that that the new Captain-Astromancer will be put into office on Landing Day, but despite any distraction that may cause them, I still have to be cautious during my visit here. However, I might find it worth my while if you can afford one little extravagance… "

Brishen smiles warmly, ever the gracious hostess. "And what would that be?"

The Wooden Shekel looks up, his posture straightening somewhat. "You have, amongst your staff, eight Savanites. I wish them declared freemen and shipped to the City of Hands. At no cost to yourself, of course. I'd be happy to make the travel arrangements."

Brishen rubs her chin, thoughtfully. "That is quite a stern price. One that I may even pay, except for the fact that it would draw attention to me that I do not think you or I would truly want. My landlord would be surprised. My relatives would find a great deal to talk about at a time when I do not think I want the extra attention. However… Perhaps we can reach a middle ground."

"What is your proposal?" inquires the lizard.

Brishen toys with a lock of hair, considering. "At times it can be expected that a slave will escape, that a servant sent to attend to the walls may find themselves captured by the ruffians that inhabit the area. And though I try so very hard to maintain discipline amongst my employees, occasionally some will wish to seek other sources of employment. It's to be expected, if it does not happen too often."

The Wooden Shekel's profile scrunches up. His tone of voice suggests he's smiling. "Hmm, well then. This is interesting to know. I must note, however, that your Savanites consist of a matron, and a number of cubs. I don't think they'd handle disruption of their family well… So, I wonder if instead you'd consider exchanging those servants for either Davanites I can supply you, and then slowly switch out, or perhaps ordinary paid employees. Naturally, I'd feel obliged to foot the bill for this, and a little extra… Do you think a gold piece would cover it? I'm sure you could explain away the workforce alignment change with all the Savanite turmoil that's been causing uprisings lately."

Brishen considers. "I would be very interested in meeting the Savanites in question. I'm sure they work very hard, and I am also sure that they would be very sympathetic to our project?" She grins a dangerous grin. "As for the gold, I believe it would do its greatest work if it was held for now, in the shadows. I'm sure some of your associates are adept at making the sorts of arrangements that would allow me to use the gold, if I needed it."

The gray shape hunches in a shrug. "Certainly no scales off my nose. I just don't want you to hurt for finance on my account. Now then, who would we be encouraging to take their leave?"

Brishen rubs her chin, thoughtfully. "Hmm. To start, I have a neighbor. A vixen with a mask. A ghost perhaps, or a mage, or a lunatic. Perhaps all of them. She has threatened me and she has threatened my house. I do not appreciate this."

The Wooden Shekel's profile smooths out. "She's part of your 'family'?"

Brishen shakes her head. "No, though it would not surprise me if she has endeared herself to certain relatives."

Brishen furrows her brow, slightly. "As it so happens, I have informed the local constabulary about my neighbor. Until I can determine their ability to handle my neighbor, it may be wise for your associates to keep her in mind, but not approach her."

"Mm. Very well." The shiga folds his arms in front of him. "You should know, however, that our agreement covers 'research' and 'persuasion'. The two go hand in hand. However, bear in mind that 'long-term disposal' is another slitherball game, and exorcism is right along there with it."

Brishen nods. "I'll keep that very much in mind. As I said, the local constables may be able to deal with the problem." She grins, "Perhaps for now, I am more interested in a little bit of research and a little bit of persuasion. A certain family member has been quite vexing, the past few weeks. Her smile offends me. I would consider it very helpful if your associates applied their impressive research skills, so that I may know – when she plans to visit me next, for example."

Brishen rustles her wings, faintly. "At the very least, it would allow me to redirect resources spent in the effort to projects that are considerably more interesting."

"Aha. That can be readily arranged," replies the cloaked cold-blood. "We have considerable access to records not generally available. All you need do is specify someplace where you would like to receive reports, and whether or not you desire redirection of the subject at whatever given time."

Brishen smiles. "Good. This bodes well for my next request, then." She lowers her chin a little, then continues, "I have found myself in a city where some of my neighbors have been – hmm. Somewhat less than civil. I have already dealt with a few of them, as you are probably aware, but perhaps the neighborhood watch would be interested in making sure that in the future these incidents no longer occur. And perhaps, they would find it their civic duty to inform me when threats approach that may pass the gauntlet, despite their vigilance."

The reptile rubs his nose thoughtfully. "What general direction has your trouble been coming from?"

Brishen shakes her head, ruefully. "From a neighborhood you're quite familiar with, I'm afraid. And, of course, occasionally from my neighbors."

The Wooden Shekel hisses, "General sticky-fingers, and the nutbin, then?"

Brishen nods. "Trifles, really. But where they are, no doubt others with greater skill may be as well."

"Very well," hisses the shiga. "I'll see about arranging an 'off-limits' zone with the… ah… district coordinator."

Brishen's smile is radiant, an unsettling contrast to her otherwise unpleasant appearance. "That is very good to hear."

"At any rate… I'll need the name of she whom we'll be monitoring, and any information you already know off-hand," hisses the Wooden Shekel. "That'll allow us to keep watch on your unwanted guest. It may take a while to dig up any good 'research' on her, so you'll have to be patient in that regard. As for your grounds… I'll do a walk-around and see to some security." The reptile steeples his fingers in the shadows. "And finally, concerning your strange vixen neighbor… well, I know of someone in the Empire who might be able to help. If your problem really turns out to be something the constabulary can't deal with, I'll tell you where he can be reached. I don't have actual dealings with him, so if you want his help, you'll have to approach him yourself."

Brishen nods slowly, then casts a thoughtful glance at her sword. "There is one other thing. I have many projects that I am attending to at the moment, some of which may prove to be more difficult in the future than they are now. Perhaps so difficult that I may indeed be placed in very serious danger. When and if that day comes, I wish for myself and a few others to have safe passage with the last group of our guests."

A narrow index finger extends itself from the gray mass. "That… is another matter entirely. It's one thing to keep tabs, gather information, and warn people off… I can accomplish this with a relatively low degree of risk. However, smuggling a high profile personage and her entourage is considerably more dangerous, and would negate any benefits to me that your Embassy safe-house could grant."

Brishen draws a breath in through clenched teeth, then nods. "Alright. If things go bad, I'll make sure you have fair warning and I'll take care of my own."

The slender digit retracts itself. "Now, now… I didn't say I'd abandon you completely. However, this is a service which will have to be accounted for seperately. It is likely I'd be able to provide you a place to run to ground, and then a seperate flight out of danger. It will just require some form of deposit. If you're unable to pay at the time… well… " The shiga clasps his hands together. "I'm sure we'll be able to find an alternate form of compensation."

Brishen crosses her arms as the slender threads of song twines themselves about her voice. "Oh? And perhaps where one piece of gold rests in the shadows, three could join it. If I am to craft an Embassy from shadows, through which many may pass to attain freedom, it would be in the best interest of everyone involved, if sufficient funds existed to provide for the guests I shall shelter under my roof. There is much that will need to be hidden – from my landlord, from my family and from my friends."

The cowl lowers somewhat, and the shoulders shake. "Heh, heh, heh… I've been more than generous, dear Ambassador. I certainly didn't have to offer that gold piece, and quite frankly, safety within the embassy is an investment I don't need to make. It is out of courtesy and the interest in cultivating a business relationship that I extended financial support, and it's just because you're a such a close old friend that I offered you the name of someone in the spirit business."

Brishen smiles. "Alright. Then I think I shall attend to my own escape, if one becomes necessary. If at that time I can pay your price, then perhaps we can do business. If not – I think I'll manage. I always do."

Brishen tucks a filthy lock of hair behind an ear. "I am sure our agreement, as it stands, will prove interesting enough for the both of us. Perhaps, in time, we can cultivate a broader business relationship."

"As you wish," agrees the Wooden Shekel. He leans forward, his voice earnest for just a moment. "I hope it's something that never arises. For all the verbal dancing we do, I really mean that, and I hope you're considering what you're getting into." Settling back, the lizard nods. "In any case… give me the name that needs watching, and whatever you already know about her."

Brishen casts an innocent glance towards the cowled shiga. Or, rather, it would be innocent if she didn't chose that moment to trace a wide, sharp-toothed smile across her muzzle. "Oh, I know exactly what I'm getting into. The name you want is Bryanna Kara… "

The reptile nods. Edging forward, he gets to his feet, then dusts at his cape. "Bryanna Kara. Got it. I'll see what we can dig up. If you have any more trouble with that graveyard-going fox, let me know. That strikes me as rather odd."

Brishen considers. "In the cemetary, near the edge of where the tombstones have been cleared away, there is a statue of an Aeonian and a mausoleum with a very interesting stone in it. I don't know how yet, but the vixen is tied to that place, somehow. She has tried to get several people to give her a fox, alive, for whatever purpose. I can imagine what that may be."

Brishen tilts her head a little. "The Temple may be interested in the same place, soon enough and I've had a mage from the Collegia examine it. It would be a good idea if your associates watched the area, but left it untouched."

"She wants people to bring her foxes?" The Wooden Shekel scratches his head, puzzled. "Rather odd indeed. I suppose I'll leave it well enough alone. But having someone who can come and go from your grounds at will is a serious security breach. And trust me, I know all about security breaches."

Brishen smirks faintly, crossing her arms. "As it has been abundantly stated to me, the grounds of the Embassy end a short distance from the wall. My interest in the rest of the Old City is officially extracurricular."

The lizard nods, and there's a strange wet noise. He might have just licked his left eye in thought, but it's hard to tell under the hood. "I see. What was she prepared to give in exchange for the fox?"

Brishen tilts her head, slightly. "Promises. The usual kind."

"And you didn't even consider her offer?"

Brishen blinks, and for a moment her eyes widen. "I'd rather die. There are some bargains you don't make and some people you don't make them with."

The Wooden Shekel shrugs indifferently. "That's probably the way to think about it. I just ask for the sake of knowing. Any information can be useful sometime or another, after all."

Brishen casts a sidelong glance at the shiga. "By the way – Your associates may run across Envoy. She's taking rubbings of the tombstones. It would be a good idea if they did not harm her, or come in contact with her. She's trouble, in her own right."

At this news, the lizard slaps what passes for his forehead. "That loopy exile? Dagh, that'll be just great. Well, hopefully we can work around her."

Brishen smirks. "For everyone's sake, that's the best idea."

"All right, then. That should be enough information," the reptile hisses. "I'll set watchers on this Bryanna Kara person, and as soon as we learn anything interesting, we'll let you know. I should have the replacement team here soon to fill out your workforce, if I can get volunteers. Remember, they're from the City of Hands, so if you have friends there, it's in your own best interest they come to no harm. Is that everything?"

Brishen narrows her eyes, slightly. "I don't, to my knowledge. They will not be harmed, and I won't hesitate to replace a guard that raises a hand against them. My staff knows this – I don't think all of them like it, but they know."

Brishen adds, quickly. "It's important that the replacements understand that I am the only one in the Embassy aware of this project. I very much wish to keep it that way."

The shiga nods slowly. "Understood. I'm not worried they'll be mistreated… The matron told me they'd been treated well, and I was relieved to hear that. However, if your plans have a chance of bringing danger to you, they may well endanger the Savanites as well. Just… please send them away if it looks like there may be trouble. I'll try to pick them personally, so they should know how to take care of themselves."

Brishen looks down at her hands, then back at the cowled shiga. "There is… " She frowns slightly. "If there's trouble, I'll make sure they have a chance."

Brishen looks down at her slender hands. "I don't know how to talk to them," she finally murmurs. "I need to learn."

"Good. I appreciate it. And the Savanites will be told what's what." He steps close enough to where his face can almost be made out, mostly pooled shadow with a little light suggesting facial forms. "I'm sure they'll do their best to see their kinfolk home. I trust they'll respect you for it. You want to learn Savanite sign?"

Brishen manages a lopsided smirk. "Yes."

The Wooden Shekel whistles. "I've underestimated you again, Ambassador. Well… it's not that hard. You can ask one of the freemen that arrive to teach you if you supply him a chalkboard and slate, I'm sure. If you have enough time. Maybe I can get a few signs in every so often, when I'm not busy."

Brishen slumps, faintly. "Time is not something I have much of right now. But I'll learn as much as I can, when I can."

"Heh, heh, you'll pick it up handily," hisses the shiga. "A useful phrase or two here and there can prove invaluable." He cocks his head quizzically. "Just what is it that's going to be devouring your time?"

Brishen straightens up and fixes the shiga with a most peculiar smile. "It must be wonderful knowing what your goal is. Where you want to go. I never have. And what do you call someone," she whispers, as she looks down at her hands, "who has all the desire to change the world forever, but no direction at all." She nods, more to herself than anyone else. "Dangerous. That's what I would call that person. I'll be seeing you." With a flutter of dark wings, she's gone.

The Wooden Shekel listens, then watches the eeee dart away. "Maybe… " he hisses. "But to who?" Concluding that he'll find out soon enough, the shiga lets his cloak gather about himself, and turns to leave. "Otto! Wart! We've got work to do."