Work has continued to be rather sparse at the docks, so much so that some of the workers are opting for the more dangerous mining work on the lands below, or other jobs that are usually suited for criminal or slave labor. Prospects have been very slim if you're a dockworker.

But if you're an explorer, things might be different, as a certain winged coyote has learned. Promises of lands beyond the Procession… Morpheus… Arcadia… only whispered in legends, and here he was given a chance to actually set foot on one.

After thinking it over for a few days, Lochinvar finds himself back at the foot of the Temple. Faceless statues stand outside, like guardians long forgotten. Sitting at the foot of such a statue is a mouse in Inquisitor robes nibbling on a muffin. Occasionally he'll drop some crumbs out for the Creens to share as well.

The winged coyote walks towards the mouse, mindful not to disturb the Creens too much with his approach. He coughs slightly by means of introduction and asks, "Inquisitor Tobit?"

"Mmmph!" the mouse chatters. He daintily scrubs crumbs from his muzzle and pockets the muffin while he chokes down on the mouthful he was chewing on. "Oh… Mis-… er… Lochinvar. A pleasure to be seeing you again. I was just getting a spot of sunlight; no windows in the Temple and all that can leave one's skin rather pale."

Lochinvar's muzzle turns up in a small smile. "If you say so, Inquisitor. I prefer out of doors myself. Not just for the sun, but there's more space out here as well," he says, stretching out his wings to emphasize his point.

The coyote continues, "However, I did promise you that I would let you know of my decision to your offer… "

The mouse smiles. "I'm sure that being able to fly can aid you in appreciating spaces to a certain extent. When you are as small as I am, you learn to enjoy more cramped areas. They make one feel taller." His ears perk at the mention of the Hekoye's decision.

Deciding to leave aside a comment about height, Lochinvar says, "I've decided to take you up on your offer – on the venture to Arcadia."

Inquisitor Tobit clasps his hands together. "Excellent. Can you be ready to leave in two days?"

The Hekoye nods. "Work is dry at the docks, so I can leave anytime."

"Wonderful!" The mouse fishes into his robes and pulls out a chunk of muffin. He frowns at it, pops it into his mouth and starts digging around again until he produces a silver coin. The coin is almost larger than the mouse's palm! "Here you go, expense money. Get whatever supplies you feel are appropriate; perhaps buy yourself some lunch and then meet back at the docks by this evening. You'll be looking for a ship called the Oaken Lance. We'll introduce you to Tock and Matchstick then."

Taking the coin, Lochinvar nods. "The Oaken Lance, right. Any items in particular you could recommend, that the previous party to go to Arcadia found of use or needed?" he asks.

Inquisitor Tobit taps his nose. "Well, you should probably get camping supplies, a lantern, some rope, provisions and whatever else you think is appropriate. If you lack a weapon, you might want to invest in a machete; at the very least the vegetation is very thick there in places and grows frighteningly fast. This may sound odd, but some candy might be useful as well. Apparently some of the natives were rather fond of it."

Lochinvar nods, committing his 'shopping list' to memory. "Mm, candy… Okay, that sounds straightforward enough to remember. By the docks this evening, then?"

"Correct… Oh! And I almost forgot. I have something else for you." The mouse resumes digging through his pockets until he produces a small wooden box which he holds out to the winged Hekoye. "As a symbol of your journey."

Taking the box, Lochinvar looks at it and tilts his head slightly?

"The model of Arcadia is inside. It is for you to keep." The mouse folds his arms, smiling. "It was always my favorite of the planet models we crafted – all the bright colors and the pretty ring."

Lochinvar smiles. "Then thank you, Inquisitor," he says, and looks around for the catch to open the box to see the model.

Inside the box is an enameled globe with a thin ring with detailed bands of color all over it. It's highly polished and jingles slightly as it's held. Probably a moderately valuable bauble actually.

The polished surface catches the winged coyote's eye, and he shuts the lid quickly. "It's… very good work," he says after a moment's pause.

"We only hire the best craftsmen." The mouse beams. "So, is there anything else I can do for you before you depart?"

Lochinvar shakes his head. "There's nothing that comes to mind, Inquisitor. Perhaps I should investigate getting my relevant supplies."

"Happy shopping then." Inquisitor Tobit pulls out the remainder of his muffin and proceeds to finish off his lunch.

Several hours of shopping (and heavy hauling) later, Lochinvar is back at a familiar place, the Rephidim docks. It's very obvious which airship belongs to the Temple, by the bright red symbol of the Star and Anchor emblazoned across it.

The winged Hekoye's items are checked, and he's hustled off into the bowels of this ship for "orientation". In actuality, he's just being taken off to sign some papers and meet the rest of his team.

As space is cramped on an airship, even one belonging to the Temple, Lochinvar finds that he's also bunking with his two companions: a squat Technopriest squire by the name of Tock with glasses that don't fit his nose and a rather overeager look on his face, and a black Jupani in Temple Guard robes by the name of Matchstick. Both of them are busily mulling over papers as the coyote enters the cabin.

"Inoculations? I think I've had all my shots," Matchstick grumbles as he scratches a quill across his paper.

"'Hoy there," offers the Hekoye as he enters. "I believe I'm sharing this cabin?"

Both the wolf and the raccoon look up. The wolf opens his mouth to say something but the raccoon interjects before he can make a single noise, "Hello there! You must be Lochinvar. I'm Tock… as in 'Tick-Tock'. It's a little joke, I suppose." He hops down from his seat, waddles over to the Hekoye and offers his hand. The fellow might be barely over three and a half feet tall. Rather runty for a 'coon, really.

Lochinvar takes the hand and shakes it heartily. "That's right, yes. Should I ask what the little joke is?"

"Because all he ever does is 'Tock-tock-tock." Matchstick rolls his eyes. It sounds a bit like he's pronouncing it like 'talk'.

"Or some people say – you know how us Technopriests are – mechanical things like gears and clockwork. Tick-tock tick-tock." The raccoon's tail swings from side to side like a pendulum. "Well, I'm not a real Technopriest yet, but I'm studying. Maybe they'll promote me after I make a hero of myself on Arcadia!" He pushes his too-large glasses back across his snout.

The coyote grins at the Jupani, and offers him a hand to shake also.

Lochinvar looks over at Tock again. "I thought it was common with most heroes that they never actually looked to become them? Bestowed, but not pursued."

The Jupani sniffs at the air a bit as if sizing Lochinvar up but then breaks into a smile and grasps the proffered hand firmly. "A pleasure. I'm here to help you swing a sword should you need it, and Tock's a map-maker. We've been told that you're a fair scout and seeing as you have some flappy things on yer back, I can see why they say that… "

"Oh piffle and puff!" Tock readjusts his glasses again. "One can have dreams to aspire to. Shoot for the highest star, they always say. I wonder what people would think if they knew how high we were going to shoot."

Lochinvar nods at the wolf. "I'm able to get around good enough, yes. And backup is always appreciated."

"If I may ask, where are you from, Lochinvar?" The black wolf's yellow eyes continue to study the winged coyote.

"Originally from the edge of the Himaat, but I've spent most of my time here on Rephidim," Lochinvar replies, eyeing up the room for an available bunk.

The cabin holds two double-bunks on either side and some cubbies for storing one's gear. The floor has several papers strewn across it as the present occupants fuss over them. On a bottom bunk is an empty folder with Lochinvar's name written on it.

"This yer first time doing work for the Temple?" Matchstick asks.

The Hekoye throws the pack he's been carrying onto the free bunk and picks up the folder. "Mmm-hmm," he replies.

The papers inside seem to be standard fare: a waiver that warns that the Temple takes no responsibility for Lochinvar's actions if he insults one of the natives and starts a war, his contract for work which amounts to three silver to a gold depending on how much information he returns with, and a blank piece of paper.

Lochinvar holds up the blank sheet, peering at it curiously, even holding it up to the light. "What's this one for?" he asks his bunkmates.

"It's in case you want to leave a message for any family you may have in case you don't come back," Tock says. "But it's all fluff. You'll be coming back. Why, Matchstick here came back after all."

The coyote looks at the wolf, tilting his head slightly, "You were on the first mission to Arcadia?"

The wolf glares at Tock, who just grins his little dolphin grin. "Yeah. A big mess it was. We only made it two days before Glot took off."

Lochinvar asks, "Yes, what did happen with all that?"

"Glot claimed he found something he called a 'supertitan'. Said it talked to him, and when we told him to stick with us he bolted. We could have gone after him but we weren't quite sure where he went." Matchstick bundles up his papers and flops out across a bunk opposite Lochinvar's, "And here I thought Titanians would be easy to track."

Smiling a little at that, the Hekoye asks, "He didn't elaborate on what this 'supertitan' was then?"

"He said something about it being worshipped by the natives – funniest critters you've ever seen. They were all different colors and would disassemble themselves and reassemble themselves into whatever shape suited them." The wolf pulls a piece of dried meat from a bag on a countertop and munches on it. "Funny things just honked at you. Like a child's horn."

Lochinvar hrmms, nodding while he signs the various bits of paper, opting to leave the blank one as-is. "They'll be interesting to see, I'm sure."

"So if you're not out to make a hero out of yourself, why are you coming along?" Tock asks, polishing his glasses; the lenses look as thick as they are wide.

"Never been there before," replies Lochinvar. "Plus a few other … personal reasons."

The coyote starts to fiddle with his pack, checking through the stuff he brought with him. Obviously he's not intending to expand on those reasons.

"You're not allergic to plants are you?" Matchstick asks, smirking a little.

"Plants? No, none that I know of," replies Lochinvar, not looking up.

The wolf chuckles, "Good, 'cause that's half of what Arcadia is. Plants and those hooting things."

Tock carefully stuffs his papers into the envelope and tucks them under his mattress. He then produces a book that looks almost as big as he is from under the bed and begins reading it.

The wolf yawns, "I highly recommend that you get some sleep while you can. If yer from Himaat, you know how the sandstorms can rock a boat."

Lochinvar chuckles. "Oh, I know all about sandstorms… and airship travel. It doesn't bother me too much. "

The raccoon winces. "Sandstorms? Oh dear. I do hope I packed enough airsickness pills."

The winged coyote removes his pack from his bunk, climbing into it and laying down on his front, allowing his wings to drape down a little. "However, sleep is probably a good idea anyway. Try and get some, Tock. It might help you from feeling airsick," he says, then rests his muzzle on an arm and closes his eyes.