After a rather frantic night at the Three Thieves and then at the Temple, Ashur Galand arrived at his room sometime in the early hours of the morning. He had managed to grow several coppers richer that night, but some might question the cost of it all.

That evening he was to meet with some men who would take him to 'Faraon the Friend'. Time would only tell how much of a friend he would truly be. Galand had enough time to get a few hours sleep when a heavy hand began knocking on his door. Odd… it is probably just early afternoon by now… much too early for the 'Friend' to arrive.

Galand sits up in his bed, his hand reaching for his crossbow pistol as he gets up, moving cautiously to the door. He stands back a ways and sights down on the door, asking loud enough to be heard, "Who is it?"

"We're with the Temple Guard," the figure behind the door answers. His voice is harsh and growling, probably a Jupani. "Someone at the Temple would like to speak with you."

The Khatta frowns, and calls out, "Give me a minute to get dressed." Muttering sourly to himself, he runs some water over his hair, combing it out, then picks out some fresh clothes.

"Of course." There's some mumbling and foot shuffling outside.

Galand makes sure all his clothes are in place, along with his daggers, his crossbow pistol, and a small supply of spare bolts, and opens the door, looking out warily.

A grumpy looking Jupani with black fur and a bored Titanian await the Khatta. "Mister Galand, we have a carriage waiting for you outside. If you'll walk this way." The black wolf gestures down the steps.

The Khatta smiles amiably. "Certainly. Lead on, gentlemen." With that, he follows down the stairs.

With a Jupani in front and a Titanian backing him up, Galand is hastily whisked out of the Inn (not without getting some strange looks from some of the other patrons of the Beggared Poodle) and hustled into a somewhat cramped carriage outside. The Jupani hops into the driver's seat while the Titanian simply keeps at eye on the Khatta inside the car.

Galand ahems softly. "Mind telling me who wants to see me, lads?"

The driver doesn't answer. The Titanian scratches at his neck. "You find out when we gets to Temple," he growfs.

The carriage hits a rough spot in the road and bumps a bit. Outside, a Kavi can be heard haggling over some loaves of bread in the Bazaar.

Galand peers out the window, trying to get a sense for what direction the carriage is taking while being unobtrusive about doing so.

It appears that the carriage is indeed going in the direction of the Temple, although from an odd direction, and in a somewhat roundabout way.

About half an hour later, the carriage rolls up into an alley that smells of garbage and is littered with trash. Galand is hustled out and lead though… a kitchen of all places? Several Savanites rush about tending to the cooking and tidying up things. From there Galand finds himself being led though a maze of dim passageways. It seems almost like he's been traveling in circles…

It seems this way until he's brought to a dark and dusty office that smells of ozone. The door is shut behind him the moment he enters and for a moment everything is dark.

Galand visibly tenses, or would, if he were visible. He says aloud, "Okay, what is this, some kind of joke?"

A starburst of light flares in the corner of the room as a lantern wick is set aflame, infusing the room with a dim orange-black glow. A short figure in a black robe snuffs a match in his finger and walks to a second lantern. "No joke. I simply felt that discretion would be good for this meeting." Hmm, it sounds like Rhys. He walks to a second lantern and tries lighting it. "I apologize for the lack of chairs."

The Khatta frowns, squinting against the light. He asks, "Rhys, is that you? Or is it Tahir?"

The robed figure seats himself at the only available spot in the room, a dusty desk that should have been repaired or replaced twenty years ago. "The latter," the boy answers, snapping his hood back.

Galand nods, smiling a bit now. "I didn't think this would be the way Rhys conducted a meeting. What can I do for you, Captain-Astromancer?"

Red hair spills across the human's back, caught in a hastily tied ponytail. A few strands fly free and fall across his face. The red glow of the lamps cast a strange light across his skin, making him look as though he were reflected in flame. "This meeting probably poses as a danger for the both of us," the Astromancer says. "But after the happenings of last night, I felt I should meet with you. You could very well mean the death of my brother, or the downfall of the Temple, or something else. You are here because I wish to determine your intentions towards Rhys."

The cat blinks, then says slowly, "I have no real intentions one way or the other. I don't mean to bring him or you or any of the Temple down. I mean, yes, sometimes I think Temple folk get a little too controlling, and that they don't really see how the regular citizen lives … but I do think that if the Temple suddenly came unglued, what followed immediately would be much worse than anything the Temple would do."

"And during your meetings with Rhys, what is your opinion of him?" The human folds his hands across the top of the desk, tracing patterns in the dust.

Galand cocks his head, thinking a moment. "He seems a bit, well … embittered at times. He also feels a bit trapped here, or at least overprotected. Other than that … he's got a decent sense of humor, and he does seem rather intelligent. I haven't really had much time to form a solid opinion one way or another, having only met him… what, three times now, including your Inauguration?"

Tahir nods his head, scratching at his brow with his scarred right hand. "I would ask what it is he does with you, or wants you to do for him… but I doubt you would tell me."

Galand hmms softly. "Simply put, he wants to see more of life than the same four walls. So far all I've done for him is gone out and gotten him drunk, albeit accidentally. I forgot to account for his smaller frame."

"There used to be three of us, you know," the Astromancer says, narrowing his eyes. "One of us was murdered about a year ago. There are people who would like to see Rhys dead, and there are probably even more people who would like to see me dead. I would very much like to protect him… but whenever I try, he plays his blasted blackmail games on me – some of which you were unfortunate enough to overhear that night."

Galand nods. "Some people who I was fortunate enough to help him avoid last night, as well."

"By the way… " Galand drawls, ostensibly examining his claw-tips, "Did you know that 'Shadowspite' is a Vixen?"

"The incident with Shadowspite? I have to wonder if it was for real, personally." Tahir frowns. "Shadowspite freed a violent exile from our prisons and used him as a perfect diversion while she slipped into the Temple, past the most well-trained guards and defenses, and cut his throat while he was cooking. Does this sound like someone who would walk up to you and say 'Hello there, my name is Shadowspite'?"

The Astromancer rubs the bridge of his nose. "The gender, exact species, or anything about Shadowspite is unknown. We only know that Shadowspite is the best killer there is, and that Shadowspite is a fox. The rest is up for debate, although there have been clues that the fox might indeed be female."

Galand says seriously, "From my own experience, the best disguise is the most obvious one. I agree, it's not very likely that Shadowspite would come out and say 'Hi, here I am!' but the fact of the matter remains that she KNEW Rhys, even though he looked like the wrong end of a Rughrat stampede. Also… those dice she had… there was something about them."

"True… but if she meant to kill you or Rhys, we would not be having this conversation right now, I think." Tahir rises from his seat and turns up the wick on one of the lanterns, causing the room to glow golden instead of orange. "I also wonder why she allowed you to return to the safety of the Temple instead of killing you in the streets where you were open and unprotected."

Galand starts pacing a bit, his tail lashing slightly. "She said sometimes the dice can foretell the future, if one's luck is good enough. My first roll was 'Joy, Hope and The Shadow'. She rolled 'The Dagger, The Shadow, and Death'." He seems lost in thought for a moment, "Then she rolled 'Deception, Fear, and Denial,' and I joked about how her luck wasn't so hot, and she said… "

The cat snaps his fingers. "She said that it may not even be her future the dice were telling… And right after that, I rolled 'Paradise, the Pit, and the Dagger.'"

Galand mrrowls, "See a pattern here?"

"I know some of the mechanics of Scry-Dice." Tahir moves back to his seat behind the desk, his black robes look like they're embroidered with molten gold in the strange firelight. "But I am no fortuneteller. What do you make of it all?"

Tail still lashing, Galand makes a low, thoughtful growling noise, then replies, "If we take the recent past-near future-distant future pattern… the first roll, 'Joy, Hope and the Shadow' could be applied to either Rhys or myself. I'm usually pretty jolly, I've had high hopes that this job would turn out all right, and if she is 'The Shadow,' it could be that she's trying to give us a warning… let us know ahead of time, to increase the sport of it. Some of the Guilders like to play with their prey, you know."

"'The Dagger, The Shadow, and Death'… That's got to be Rhys, if she has designs on him. And 'Paradise, The Pit, and the Dagger' could likely be me." Galand looks around a bit nervously. "This does appear to qualify as a pit, you know."

"If I understand the mechanics of the game though, there is a separate rune for an assassin. The 'Shadow' is a mystery rune, a sign of the unknown that is neither positive nor negative." The human traces a finger across his lips. "Is there anything you intend to do to pursue this puzzle further?"

Galand hmms softly. "I was going to nose around a bit, see if I can find a contract out on Rhys or yourself, and if so, who placed it." He sighs. "I don't mean him harm. In fact, it's my job to protect him. I take my jobs very seriously, when I have them. I do it even doubly so because I honestly don't need the money. It's a nice perk, but I take these jobs for something to do, and to keep life interesting. However, when I set out to do something, I do it. Same principle applies here."

"So you're hired help, nothing more." Tahir states this in such a matter that it might be a question, but might not be.

Galand shrugs and smiles. "I guess that's it. He seems like he needs a friend, and I could always use more, but that's as far as it'd ever go. As it stands, I may have a tentative friendship forming, but it's still mostly business."

The Astromancer nods. "And if I may ask, what are your opinions of me? I'm sure that my brother has told you quite a bit about me. Some of it might even be true."

Galand hmms. "Not sure I have an opinion. You seem a nice fellow. You're used to getting what you want, though thankfully you're not as, well… obvious about it as some of my relatives. You're apparently concerned about your brother's welfare. I can tell all that, but I haven't spent enough time really talking with you to form an opinion one way or another.

The Astromancer nods. "I think that answers my questions." He reaches under his desk and pulls out a silver coin. "As much as I hate bribery, I would like to ask that you not tell Rhys that I had you brought here. If he knew… well… he could probably have a very close friend of mine harmed. As she is one of the few true friends I have, I do not wish to see that happen." He pushes the coin across the desk. "Take it, on the condition that you do not speak of this meeting to anyone."

Galand hesitates for a moment, then takes the coin. "Right."

Tahir's eyes seem to darken a bit as Galand pockets the silver. "You can go now. The guards will take you back to your room." He gestures towards the door.

Galand nods, then pauses for a moment, and places the coin back on the desk. "You can have this back… but I still won't mention this to him. I've no wish to see anyone harmed." Pausing a moment to gauge Tahir's reaction, he turns for the door.

The human eyes Galand questioningly as the door opens to let the Khatta out. As he exits, he can hear a soft murmur inside. "Maybe he's not just hired help after all… "

Galand's right ear twitches backward, catching the sound. He murmurs, as softly, "Even us rogues have a sense of honor… those of us who count for something, anyway." With that, he nods to the guards, and exits the Temple.

Later that afternoon, Galand is driven back to the Beggared Poodle and dropped off on the doorstep. Evening will be upon Rephidim soon, and in a few more hours Galand's 'friend' will want to see him.

Up the twenty steps to the second floor, then the twelve up to his floor, Galand walks, lost in thought. Thirty-two footsteps later, he enters his room and closes and bars the door behind him, slumping against it, thinking aloud. "Maybe I should cut my losses and get out." A moment's reflection, and, "No. No, I've never backed out on a deal before, I won't start now. I just wish someone would tell me the whole story."

As Galand leans back, his shoulder comes in contact with something sticking out of his door that shouldn't be there. It feels like a handle or a lever.

Galand frowns, turning to look at it.

Stabbed into the wood of his door is an obsidian black chitin dagger, pinning a black velvet bag to the door.

A spotted paw whips to the belt of Galand's pants and comes out with a two-shot crossbow pistol, cocked and loaded. He makes a once-around of the room to ensure he's alone…

Nobody there at all. His belongings appear to be untouched and everything seems to be in place… except for the new door decoration, that is.

Galand uses a handkerchief to pull the knife out of the door, catching the bag with his other hand.

As the velvet bag drops, the velvet seems to disintegrate, scattering its contents across the wooden floor. It was filled with… dice, dozens of them. The ones that don't land in the Khatta's hand go tumbling across the floor, clattering loudly.

The Khatta's eyes narrow as he examines the dice, ignoring the ones on the floor for now…

As each die rolls to a stop, it shows a fortune rune etched upon its top. Death; every single one reads 'death'.

At least fifty dice on the floor show their fortunes to Galand… death… death… death…

Galand blinks, seeing a pattern forming on the floor. He reads the runes, each one, and swears softly, "Oh, vhai on a stick… "

The dice in Galand's hand look normal (except for being black and not multi-colored like most scry-die), although his trained eye and hand are able to discern that the dice are weighted. Probably so they'll end up on a specific rune. Wonder which one?

Galand rolls the dice in his palms, then rolls them onto his dining table.

The outcome isn't unexpected. Each of the black dice roll a death rune.

Galand snorts. "What is this… a threat or an invitation to go out on a date?" He starts picking up the dice and says, "Nice try, Shadowspite… Yeah, you scared me for a bit, but lemme tell you something: Since I left home I've nearly been killed more times than I can count. Part of me might almost welcome it if it did happen. But let me make this absolutely clear… I don't want it to come down to that between us, but if it does, I'm not going to go easy."

Galand dumps all the dice on his table, and slumps into his favorite armchair, sighing. "Vhai, maybe I should settle down and get married… " And there he sits, one hand clutching his pistol, half-dozing, until the evening…