Ashur Galand found himself spending several days in the medical offices of Faraon's Dome after he returned from his latest 'assignment' in Darkside. Not only had he lost a tooth, but his jaw had been cracked and he was unable to so much as open it for several days. Slowly he healed; pampering by the best nurses Faraon could offer helped. And finally he was able to move his mouth without too much pain and could eat things that had more substance than lukewarm broth.

At the pinnacle of his recovery came the greatest surprise… an invitation to a banquet at Faraon's table as a guest of the great dragon. At last the Khatta could finally meet his benefactor face to face. Not to mention getting something solid in his stomach. Digger had presented him with a clean suit to wear, some scented soaps for a bath and then left him to prepare.

One last time, the spotted Khatta checks his appearance in the mirror, his fur combed immaculately, grimacing a bit as he stares at the gap where his tooth once was, and rubbing his jaw tenderly. Sighing, Ashur murmurs to himself, "Ah, well. Some ladies like the rugged look. Besides, when this job's done, I can buy new teeth." Straightening, he adjusts the seam of his black trousers, and the sleeves of his white shirt, then pulls his midnight blue vest into place before settling his cape about his shoulders. Lastly, he takes a small polished stone on a leather thong and hangs it around his neck, the irregularly-shaped amulet gleaming in the light.

It's quiet outside for once, as most of the dreamweed has been harvested. Sometimes it seems as though Galand had moved to a whole new location, as the outside is so different now – just a few green plants waiting for the next blooming season and one or two slaves coming by every day to feed and water them. Digger is still there whenever Galand needs her, but she's not seen working the gardens anymore.

Galand examines his reflection once more, then nods curtly, murmuring, "You'll do. Okay, Ash… Don't be so nervous. If the fellow didn't like you, you'd surely be a smear on the ground below Rephidim by now. He certainly wouldn't invite you to dinner. Just stay calm, watch your mouth, and refrain from pinching any bottoms, and we'll be fine." He moves into the main room of the cottage, muttering to himself softly in reassurance. Standing in the center of the room, he takes a deep breath, and sighs, almost to himself, "And for Dagh's sake, don't let Ashes out." He allows himself a moment of severe worry, then forces it down, saving it for later.

Some kind of orchestra can be heard playing in the distance. Just some tuning exercises, but a sign that things will start gearing up soon nonetheless.

A shadow passes across the windows and a breeze stirs up, causing the panes outside to rattle a bit – a signal of the arrival of a certain Vartan that's been flying the Khatta around lately.

Galand's ears perk as he moves toward the door, opening it and smiling. "Evening, Skye."

The Vartan uncurls himself from the ground and pulls himself up to his feet. A highly polished crossbow rests on his hip. "Hoy, Ash. You're lookin' pretty good. I heard you were laid up for a bit."

The Khatta chuckles, then winces a bit as his jaw clicks together. "Yeah, still hurts a bit though. That Jupani packed a wallop… Lost a tooth, and was eating through a reed-straw for a couple weeks."

Ashur glances at the crossbow. "Ah, what's the hardware for? Should I bring mine?"

Skye pats the weapon. "I'm on guard duty during the banquet – and no, you'd probably be best to come unarmed. You all set to go?"

The strains of music grow lightly in the background and then fade again.

Galand nods, closing and securing the door behind him. "Let's go."

As carefully as he can (so as not to ruffle the Khatta's suit) the painted-up Vartan scoops Galand up into his arms and leaps straight up. His wings unfurl and send a blast of wind to the ground that rattles the treetops.

"So… " The cat pauses to get his breath after takeoff, then continues, "What can I expect tonight?"

"Faraon likes to have fancy dindins like this sometimes. Sometimes it's to impress folks, or strike a bargain with someone, or just to show off. Mostly I'd expect to be gorged silly if I were you." It seems that there's a gathering on a massive balcony set on a lower portion of the great spire of rock underneath the sky island. It's not a long flight and just as quickly as the Khatta was in the air he's back on the ground again.

Galand dusts himself off and grins at the Vartan. "Flying as smooth as a Kavi contract, as always."

Skye's eyes suddenly narrow and his beak sets itself into a frown. "You'd better go. Don't want to be late for dinner." And without another word, he spins on his hoof and walks away. His tail lashes back and forth as though his backside had suddenly been attacked by a swarm of invisible bugs.

Several other guests are arriving as well, and the orchestra has begun playing in full force. Further in from the landing a table has been set up, ringed with cushions and brimming jugs of various coffees, teas, juices, and liquors.

The cat blinks, and follows Skye, trying to catch up. "Skye, I'm sorry. I didn't mean anything by that… I was trying to pay a witty compliment… I guess the joke fell flat."

The Vartan looks at his crossbow, patting it gently. "Don't ever compare my actions with those of murderers and thieves. This may be a den of such folk, but I'm not one of them." He snorts angrily through his nostrils.

A Siamese Kattha is gently deposited on the landing by another Vartan. She shoulders the lute across her back and moves to join the orchestra softly playing. Several Eeee land behind her, one of them with overly sharp teeth and solid blue eyes that seem to glow with some eerie inner light.

Galand closes his eyes, and nods. "I can see that. Again… my apologies. I… try not to be such either, but things are… " He looks very un-calm for a moment, then composes himself, and says, lowering his voice, "I'm… having some trouble adjusting, and you and Digger are two people that I trust here. You might say you're the only real friends I have here. I… I think I need to talk to you about some problems I'm having with all this… later, of course. If you're still willing to speak to me, that is."

Skye nods his head. "I'll bring you to our cabin after the banquet. Now if you'll excuse me, I don't want to be late for my post. They'll dock my pay if I'm late."

Galand nods, patting Skye's shoulder. "Thanks, my friend. I'll see you later." With that, he turns toward the banquet, spotting the Siamese Kattha, and making his way toward her.

"He's here! Faraon's on his way!" voices murmur from the banquet room. The ground seems to shake with the pounding of approaching footsteps.

An Eeee almost bumps into the Khatta as people begin gathering at the kneeling table laden with cushions. Lilith has moved to sit near a string orchestra placed behind the table. She rests her lute in her lap and looks up at the Khatta questioningly.

The spotted Khatta blinks at the exclamations, then nods and smiles to Lilith warmly, murmuring, "Good to see you again," to her as he passes on his way to the table.

In response, the Siamese plays a quick fluttery tune on her lute and nods her head at Ashur. At the table, some cushions are laid out for Galand to seat himself at and a glass of some kind of slightly fermented juice is placed in his hand.

Galand settles into his place at the table, looking curiously at his neighbors.

A curtained passageway that seems like a veiled maw parts open. Slowly a golden scaled figure emerges… massive and powerful. Faraon the Friend has arrived. His scales glitter as though they were comprised of golden coins polished to perfection. His toothy maw is set into a gentle grin and he carefully eases himself into his spot on the table – the head of the table, of course, although he could probably take up half of it on his own by his own bulk.

A Skeek wearing a turban immediately bows, almost causing his hat to spill off his head and fall onto his plate. A Korv on Galand's left simply nods his head to the great dragon.

Ashur considers, then offers a gracious bow to Faraon, cape swirling about him as he straightens up and smiles amiably.

The dragon nods his head to each of the guests in turn and then settles into his seat, coiling into a great nest of cushions. "Thank you all for attending. All of you are people whom I have been wishing to meet for quite a while now, and I am greatly honored that you chose to bless this table and your humble Friend with your presence." He snaps a taloned hand over his head. "Bring on the banquet!"

An instant later, servants swarm in with trays bearing pastries, piping hot breads, stews, meat dishes, and other delights from all over Sinai. Each of the guests are served massive portions, and the rest is placed on the table for easy reach later.

Oddly, the dragon is not partaking of any food.

Galand leans over his plate, inhaling deeply of the aroma of the food, before he takes the first bite.

It smells of spices from around the world. The stew seems to be mostly vegetables with some chunks of rhugrat stuck in just to thicken it, the bread comes in a multitude of colors and flavors, and the rest is equally as nice. Others at the table have already begun to tuck in as well.

A Korv leans over to speak to Galand, "Ju here on biznes mir der draken as vell?" His accent is heavy and harsh; sounds like he's Chronotopian.

The Khatta smiles, swallowing a bite, and purrs, "Yes, I'm a business associate of His Eminence as well. I've been doing him a few favors here and there. Odd jobs, mostly."

"Ah… so ju ist no a merchand." The crow sets down the hunk of bread he was using to fish out the broth in his stew and extends a wing-hand to the Khatta. "I um Nasser, iron merchand vrom Chronotopia. Ist best iron in lant, but I huf to fint new biznes now that market do kablooey. Is maybe verk in greay flyink city, ya?"

Galand shakes the hand with his own paw. "Ash Galand. I'm from Rephidim… I usually work in commodities brokering, some speculation business… and there is certainly always something to do here."

"Don't I know you from some other life? You were wide-eyed and green and a little bit taller – and you didn't look away when spoken to… " From somewhere in the orchestra, Lilith begins singing softly with the music.

"Pleasure meetink ju, Aszure Galant," the Korv squawks. "Maybe we do biznes togezer sometime. Is gut to make new friendz here."

The caped Khatta's ear swivels toward the sound of Lilith's voice, and his face relaxes in a smile as he half-listens to her while speaking with Nasser. He returns his attention to the Korv, and nods. "Of course. It's always good to have friends."

Faraon whispers to some of his servants and continues to wave off offerings of food. He also seems to be kept occupied in arguments with some several rather noisy Eeee who seem to have some kind of polite dispute over something.

"Do you still take two sugars? You seem a little tense, and I can't help but notice how hard you appear, when I look into your eyes… a violent blue"

Galand's ear cocks towards Lilith's voice again as he listens to her words, eyes widening for a bare moment before he regains his composure.

"Well, and pardon the most humble interruptions of this poor little insignificant mouse, but I am here on business as well. This humble rodent deals in the best spices in all of Sinai." The turbaned Skeek sips delicately at his soup bowl, which seems to be almost large enough for him to dunk his whole head into. "Or so it is said. And by the tastings of this most magnificent food in which it is probably a profanity to have it touched by the tongue of such a peasant as myself, I think that spices will sell very well here in Rephidim."

"Was it sudden? Was it clean? Were there a lot of shades in between?"

"Step away… let it off… throw it down… and lose yourself… "

Ashur smiles at the mouse. "Indeed. Spices are a popular commodity here. In fact, if you can import it to Rephidim, you can usually find a place to sell it. This island produces little beyond scholars, soldiers, and priests, so everything else has to be brought in from down below… If you can corner the market, you can likely set your prices as you please."

"Of course, there are other spices here beyond the ones that one puts on their food," a bat interjects, sipping a dark brown broth from a wineglass. "With Himar gone, people will have to get their Yorspice from other places."

"Hey, are you in there? Or don't you recall when the perfume of belief was all we needed, it was all we needed to set our sights."

Galand blinks at the bat, sipping his drink. "Himar, you say? What happened to it?"

A deep chuckle from the dragon sets the room vibrating as he shares a personal joke with a black poodle.

"You didn't hear? Ahh… sad story really. It was a casualty of the Babelite War. Apparently the Sabaoth had managed to get hold of some kind of magical weapon and planned to use it on Rephidim." The bat runs a fingertip across the lip of his glass. "The Temple sent their warship after it before it could be used on the floating island and the warriors dropped it over Himar instead of surrendering it to the Rephidim forces. Quite a battle, I'm lead to believe."

Galand hms softly. "And this one weapon obliterated all of Himar?"

The Eeee sips from his glass before answering, licking the thin broth from his lips. "A rather large chunk of it. Elamoore went poof, which was the major trade hub. What was left was a great spire of red rock that apparently had a great deal of metal scattered about in it. That's why the iron market bottomed out."

The Korv winces and nods his beak.

"So when did you throw out the rest of the world, deaf from the din of your self-righteous babble? I think you've been blinded by your own light."

"Was it hatred? Was it pride? Or did you just have a lot to hide?"

The Khatta winces, and takes a long sip of his drink. "Vhai. Well… so much for that trip to visit my ancestors' graves I was planning."

Daintily wiping his chin with a napkin, the Skeek looks to Ashur. "My most deepest of apologies to you, oh spotted one. But rumor has it that the land was transported to another planet. Of course, these are just silly rumors that quite often fall to the ears of insignificant mice such as myself."

Faraon yet again waves off a plate of bread, instead opting to gently puff at an elongated pipe. The smoke smells of sweet tobacco, and not of any of the other exotic "spices" that are commonly smoked here.

Galand smiles and chuckles. "Rumors often have some ring of truth to them, I've found… but a whole other planet? Why… travel between worlds… that's a concept that would seem to be, well… " He pauses, for a moment, then smiles. "Forgive me, but it's an incredible idea."

"Come away… throw it down… let it burn… and lose yourself… "

"Ahhh… vhut dere ist zom travelink to oser planets vrom vhat I huv hert." The Korv shakes out his feathers. "'Dere vhas this unplezant Titanian perzon who I hert got lost on Arcadia. Dey lookink vor people to vind him again."

"Passion, to ashes, to smoldering ruins. Are you in there? Are you in there?"

Ashur tucks into his plate for a moment, while listening, then says, wiping his mouth, "Ah, well. I'm not likely to ever leave good old Mother Sinai, being a simple merchant and all."

Galand looks up, and over at Lilith as he hears that last verse, eyes widening again.

"Am I boring you? I could say more; we were destined for somewhere, but that was before you traded in your heart for a dagger… "

"*KAW* Ist no vhat to go to zom other lant unless 'dere be zomething 'dere besides iron and Titanians," the Korv squawks. "Ist expensive, and unprofitable."

The spotted Khatta swallows hard, nodding absently to his neighbors as he continues to gaze over at Lilith, hoping to catch her eye, his expression one of amazement.

The mouse and bat nod in response, wincing a little as Faraon chuckles at another joke.

Lilith's head is down, not looking any anything except her instrument. "And I don't believe it's the way you were raised, or the cards you were dealt, or a poor self-image – I think you love yourself too much… "

"You want to rule some sovereign state? You want to smother in all that hate?"

"Mister Ashur Galand?" A voice rumbles across the table – the distinctive voice of the golden dragon host.

Ashur blinks and stands, facing Faraon. "Yessir?"

The dragon folds his arms in front of his empty silver plate. "We have not gotten the chance to speak yet. I was curious as to what you think of my land here and how you are enjoying your time in my employ. I do hope you've been comfortable… I heard that you had been hurt recently and I made sure to have my best physicians take care of you."

Galand smiles. "I've found your home most impressive thus far, M'lord. As for the work, it's been interesting, to say the very least… I thank you muchly for the medical assistance." He chuckles softly. "I don't know about the rest of the guests here, but eating through a straw is not my idea of a well-balanced diet."

Faraon chuckles softly, his voice resonating like heavy raindrops on the roof of a house during a storm. "'Tis better to eat from a straw than to never eat again, my dear Ashur. I am very glad that you have healed, and I dearly hope that you shall remain in my humble service for a while yet. There is a certain boy that speaks very highly of you to me."

Ashur smiles and nods. "Aye, I've made the lad's acquaintance. He's a good fellow; he just is in a difficult position to cope with sometimes… but then, we all wind up in those positions at one time in our lives or another."

"Get away… lay it down… strip it off… and lose yourself… "

"Indeed. Well I hope you keep in mind that if you should need any kind of assistance or help, feel free to call upon me. I am at your disposal as I am to all of my Friends." The dragon bows his head.

The music begins to soften somewhat as Lilith's song gently ends. Her music begins to meld with that of the orchestra until it seems to vanish altogether.

The Khatta returns the bow, and nods. "Indeed, and the same to you, Friend Faraon."

Faraon smiles and then flicks his eyes towards a Jupani guard. The two begin to have a whispered conversation.

"So you're a Rephidim native then?" the bat across the table from Galand squeaks.

Galand settles back into his seat. "Aye, I am. I know mostly the Topside area, having spent my childhood there, but I still know my way about."

"Haw! Ju muzt be gut vor givink tours of Rephidim. Mebee I ask ju vor vun after biznez get started up again." The Korv chuckles and munches on a candied bug.

The turbaned mouse glances around. "I wonder where the guest of honor is? Faraon mentioned that our table would be graced by the presence of a most gracious guest."

A Jupani servant offers Faraon one of the candied bugs, which he refuses with a wave of his hand.

The Khatta hmms softly. "I'm not entirely certain who it is… This is the first I've heard of it."

"Probably someone booooring," the bat says with a wink. "Most guests of honor are."

Galand chuckles and smiles. "Most of them. Some are rather intriguing."

The Korv next to Galand sips at his wineglass. "Ah. Ju haf done dis zort uf thing before?"

The feline nods, sipping from his glass as well. "Yes, when I was growing up in my father's home. He was a rather successful merchant, and so did a lot of entertaining."

"Life like that can be grating." The bat's eyes gleam as he sips from his own glass. "So much dullery and lack of challenge. Being born with a silver spoon in one's mouth can leave one with a taste for some cold iron instead." He winks.

Galand chuckles softly. "Or a need for the finer tastes of games of chance, fine wine, and finer women."

"Chance. Challenges… How very interesting." The interjecting voice rumbles across the table, much louder than it probably should be. Faraon adjusts his seat at the table until he's looming over practically everyone. "Chances can lead to danger… such as seeking certain thrills just to see if one can." His eyes are not fixated upon Galand, but instead are focused upon the bat.

The cat looks at the bat, then at Faraon, ears semaphoring for a moment. Then he studiously focuses on his meal.

"Sir? Faraon? Whatever do you mean?" The bat looks around, hoping that the dragon might in reality be looking at someone else, and then droops as the truth settles in.

Faraon clucks his tongue as though chiding a child. "There, there. We all get that way sometimes, I suppose. Taking wild chances, hoping for just a little stronger of a thrill. It's an easy liquor to become drunk upon. Much like trying to make Yorspice more interesting by adding poisons to it."

The bat chuckles. "Yes… well… "

Ashur continues to focus on his meal, listening to the goings-on, his face settling into a sort of calm, expressionless mask…

"Think nothing of it, dear Skeee. You've realized your mistake, have you not?" Faraon purrs.

The bat nods his head. "Of course! A horrible mistake!"

"And you won't ever do it again, will you?" The dragon smiles warmly.

"Never, sir!" the bat squeaks, smiling in return.

The corners of the Khatta's mouth twitch upward slightly, as he continues to look at his plate and eat. A few moments more, and Galand's face reassumes its former animation as he looks up and down the table, quietly gauging people's reactions.

"Of course you won't," Faraon soothes. And in one quick lightning motion, his head slams down. Galand gets a perfect view of the bat sitting directly across from him. Faraon's teeth catch him cleanly in the torso and bite down hard. Blood spatters against a Lapi and a Naga who were sitting on either side of the bat.

Most of the patrons look shocked and stunned. As Faraon bites the bat in two, their expressions change to horror and disgust. The mouse next to Galand begins to make gagging noises.

In another couple of bites, it's over. The dragon daintily licks his fingertips as though murdering a patron at his banquet table was not that big of a deal. Unfortunately nobody else seems inclined to eat… but they don't seem to be too inclined to suddenly bolt up and run either.

Rather than recoiling, as his companions do, Galand sits there, stock-still, his face showing a mix of conflicting emotions… revulsion battling awe, disgust warring with wide-eyed appreciation. Finally, he seems to resolve the conflict within him, and takes another bite of his meal.

It seems like the Khatta is the only one willing to take another bite of his meal. For the rest of the evening, not another word is said at the table, and most of the patrons seem to be more focused on cleaning up their messes caused by their stomachs rebelling against the sight they just witnessed.

Finally, what seems like hours in silence save for the droning of the orchestra and Faraon's gentle laughter, everyone is dismissed.

Galand wipes his mouth and fingers, places his napkin neatly on the table, and gets up, turning toward the landing area, so that he might catch his ride home.

At the edge of the balcony, Skye can be seen looking down at the expanse of garden and rocks below. He seems to be making a point of not looking in the direction of the banquet hall.

"Ready to go, my friend?" asks the Khatta as he approaches the Vartan. "I'm not sure about you, but I think I've had enough for one night."

The Vartan's feathers rustle. "It stinks in there." He glances back at the Khatta. "You said something about wanting to talk to me and Digger later?"

Another moment of brief inner conflict crosses the Khatta's face, then he swallows, and nods, saying distractedly, "Yes, please. For now, let's g-get out of here. Quickly… p-please."

Skye nods and slings the Khatta across his back. For a moment it looks like the Vartan decided to leap clean off the island but then rocks and foliage pop back into view. "I'll take you to my cabin… unless you'd rather spend some time alone first."

Galand shakes his head mutely, then licks his lips and says, "No, Skye… alone is definitely not a good idea for me right now."

"Right. To my house then." The Vartan banks sharply. "Faraon does that sometimes. It's his little way of letting you know that there's teeth behind that smile of his. I've seen his scales deflect iron weapons and arrows as well. Makes me wonder why he needs guards like me."

Galand hms softly. "Not sure… perhaps because he can't be everywhere at once… and because no matter how big and bad you are, you can always be outnumbered."

"Never thought of that." Skye starts to flutter down to a less well-kept section of the garden, one that seems to be mostly comprised of huge tangles of vines and bushes. "I always figured he kept us for glitter and show. Of course, you know how Vartans are about glittery things."

Galand nods. "Yeah, that's another possibility that had crossed my mind… but something tells me he doesn't really need to show off."

The pair is jostled as the Vartan lands. Skye helps Galand to his feet and then moves to one of the larger clumps of plants. "Time to trim the house down soon… "

The cat blinks, then looks at the shape of the plants around him.

Yep, they might be house-sized. This is further confirmed by part of the "bush" swinging open and a familiar cheetah popping out. She looks surprised at Galand and bows, and then runs over to give Skye a hug and a peck on the cheek.

Blinking dumbly, clearly amazed by the construction of the house, Ashur Galand returns Digger's bow, nearly stumbling over in the process.

After releasing the blushing Vartan, Digger signs to Galand, "They don't like to show servant's quarters. This was the best way to conceal them. Come inside; I have tea made."

"This is… impressive… " He blinks, then smiles at Digger. "Tea sounds… well, to be truthful dear lady, it sounds heavenly."

"C'mon in." Skye pushes the door open the rest of the way and steps inside. Indeed even from out here, a soothing herbal blend of tea can be smelled on the breeze… Of course it could also be the plants.

Galand follows, taking a deep breath, some of his earlier tension vanishing.

Soon Galand finds himself placed in front of a table with a steaming mug of tea in his hand and a Savanite fretting and fussing over him like a mother cat. Skye watches the whole thing with a certain air of amusement.

From the way things look, Digger and Sky are cabin mates of some sort, although it's somewhat odd that a slave is allowed to stay with a free worker.

Ash looks back and forth between Digger and Skye and asks diplomatically, "You two are, um… ?" He holds up a set of crossed fingers and raises his eyebrows.

Digger's ears shoot up while Skye chuckles, "We're just good friends. Digger was a slave that belonged to my parents. We grew up together; she's like my sister."

"I was sold to Faraon after Skye grew up, and he came to get me back," the cheetah adds.

"Oh… I'm sorry, I just… Well, I saw you kiss Skye, and naturally, I thought… " Ashur takes a sip of his tea, and smiles. "I told you before… I don't have the usual prejudices about things that most folks do." He points at the spots on his tail. "… Especially considering I've seen the ugly end of them more than once."

"Well, my parents were slave-owners, so I always took it as a general fact of life. Sort of like growing up with a pet vanderat and not really thinking much about the fact that they're such dangerous beasts." Skye twirls his spoon around in his cup. "Besides, I've been given a taste of slavery myself. I work for Faraon until I earn enough to buy Digger back."

Galand snorts softly. "And I bet there's a nice interest rate on the paychecks… " He sighs. "I dunno, Skye. I'm really starting to worry about myself."

"I think I have a hunch about what yer talking about… but I'd rather hear it from your own mouth." The Vartan sets his cup down.

The Khatta does likewise, and takes a very deep breath. "You've probably got some idea what kind of work I'm having to do… They've got me into the Assassin's Guild… in the usual way."

Skye waves Digger off. She looks confused, but it's obvious that a set of subtle little gestures have passed between them. Digger refills Galand's cup, takes Skye's and then "excuses" herself to another room to "wash the dishes".

Galand nods. "It's best she doesn't hear this, I suppose." He sighs, "I'm kind of stuck… because I'm very certain that if I had backed down from the assignment, I'd be a snack meat right now… so I went ahead with it. It's not the first time I've had to take someone down, but all the times before, it was self-defense only." He takes a sip of tea, his hands shaking visibly. "I'm scared, Skye. I… I'm not sure I know who I am anymore. There's this other person, this other me, this persona I dreamed up for the disguise… but I'm afraid he's trying to take over, and he is not a nice man."

The Khatta seems to struggle with himself for a moment, then blurts out, "Ashes… Ashes enjoys it." He chuckles, a little disjointedly, "The vhai-eating son of a Kavi really likes his work, and I'm the one who let him out of the box, and I don't know how to lock him back in."

"It was yer head to begin with, Ashur. You let him in; I'm sure that you can kick him out." Skye taps his taloned hand against the tabletop. "Do you like killing people? Not this other personality… but you, Ashur Galand?"

Galand thinks a long moment, then finally replies, "No. I'm able to do it, if I have to, but I don't enjoy doing it. What scares me is the thought that if Ashes is drawn from the bits of me that never see daylight, then maybe on some level I do… and just don't realize it."

Ashur lets out a soft, involved stream of invective. "What am I saying? I'm a gambler, a part-time womanizer… I'm definitely not a brain-healer."

"Remember that comment you made to me before you walked into the banquet hall? A cold hearted killer doesn't crack jokes, however cold they may be." Skye chews on a claw-tip. "Maybe it's time to consider what you want out of life. If you're looking for heart pounding action, then this is the place for it… although after seeing your face all wired up for that week, I'd say that you won't live very long. You have the movements of a fighter… but after you dance in Darkside a couple of times, I can promise you that you won't dance out."

The cat rubs his jaw absently, wincing a little. "Tell me about it. If whatshisname hadn't been there, I would've been that Jupani's next throw rug."

The Vartan shrugs. "Now don't take this the wrong way… but you've led the good life a little too long. You can make it through a bar brawl, but you've not been lifting rocks for a living or had the sun bake you solid. One would almost think that this 'other you' you're talking about might be trying to get you killed. Maybe one last flash instead of whatever it is you're not doing up there." He points a thumb upwards, indicating the city above.

Galand cocks his head. "One last flash?"

"You know that bat that Faraon had for dinner tonight?" Skye preens some feathers on his neck-ruff.

Ash blinks and nods, mutely. "Said his name was Skeee or something like that."

The Vartan nods. "I see his type all the time. Respectable man, lots of easy money for him… but he decided to try and spice up his shipment to Faraon just to see if he could get away with it. I have the feeling that even if he knew he wasn't going to walk away from the banquet alive he still would have done it." He shrugs. "It's easier to make a name for yourself by being nasty than to try to aspire for something else. Hrrr… am I making any sense?"

Galand hms softly. "You are, my friend. I'm sort of the black sheep of the family… never actively nasty, but I got tired of my control-freak father, and his insistence that I follow his footsteps. He eventually kicked me out." The cat snorts derisively. "I guess my 'antics' were too much of a potential blow to his social standing for him to bear."

Skye shrugs again. "You're not with your parents now. I rampaged when my folks sold Digger, but it didn't get her back. Now I'm here doing honest work and earning her back."

Galand nods. "I just don't see any way out of this, other than to finish the job they set me, then take my leave, and avoid Rhys as much as possible." He looks up at Skye. "You wouldn't have any ideas, would you? I'd walk, but I've got a twin sister I love very much, and I don't want anything to happen to her."

Galand mrrowls, "That… and I never welsh on a deal. It's bad business."

"Even it that deal means you're letting yourself go crazy?" Skye shakes his head. "Besides… you might end up like that bat. I'm just a guard, but you're in something deeper. I mean, the Astromancer! This isn't the corner store grocer."

"The Astromancer… I think they're planning to kill him, Skye… " Galand shakes his head. "And somehow, take the Assassin's Guild down with him, and very possibly Leeta as well. Rhys… Rhys is a decent enough fellow, but I'm starting to question his taste in 'Friends.'"

The Vartan's ears flatten. "I don't know very much about him. They usually kept the help away from him when he was around."

Galand hms. "I gather that he used to be above Archelaus… and some sort of reversal happened." He licks his lips. "Skye, can I trust you with something?"

"I'm a man of my word. What is it?" Skye's head tilts sideways.

The Khatta takes a very deep breath. "We are not from this world. Rhys and Archelaus… their bodies are young, but the minds inside them are about five thousand years old. They came here on some sort of airship, long ago, to survey the world, but it crashed, and the remainder of the crew wound up stuck in time somehow. Rhys was the First Mate. I'm not sure what Archelaus was, but to hear Rhys talk, either he was the Captain and Rhys thinks he could've done better, or he was a subordinate and Rhys is ticked about being ousted. I'm not sure which."

Skye just blinks. "Um… I'm not quite sure how to respond to that, Ashur."

"The Vartans believe in the Sky Gods and how we used to be their slaves, but… hrr… I don't say I like the thought of one of the sky Gods being in the ruling seat of Rephidim." The Vartan's feathers bristle a little.

Galand shrugs and spreads his hands. "It's what Rhys told me once, after he got a little juice in him. Either he's got a fantastic imagination to go with the delusional tendencies, or it's the truth."

"Do either of them seem like slave-masters to you? I've heard that Tahir is a slave-owner, but Digger thinks the world of him." One of Skye's eyes glance off towards the kitchen.

Galand cocks his head. "That's the thing… Tahir… Archelaus… whatever his name is… Tahir doesn't seem to be the type. Very soft spoken, and he actually has publicly spoken against slavery, even though he ostensibly keeps one on his staff. Rhys thinks that Leeta's manipulating him somehow."

The cat's eyes widen. "Oh, vhai! Vhai on a stick!"

"Whatwhatwhat?" Skye's feathers bristle out.

Galand looks Skye straight in the eyes. "Rhys is one of Faraon's 'friends,' right? Faraon gets the Assassins' Guild, and either makes it look like they offed Tahir, or he just goes ahead and arranges it. Rhys is next in line after Tahir. Follow the progression."

Skye's ears are flat enough against his head to mistake him for an Aquilan. "I don't like the progression."

Galand nods. "Sky Gods or not, I bet we'd like Faraon pulling the strings even less."

The Vartan droops his head a bit. "So now what?"

Ashur hisses softly in feline reflex, baring fangs a little. "Vhai… I'm almost tempted to walk away, but dammit… It's this conscience thing; it's been a bother all my life."

Skye opens his beak to say something more, but then Digger steps into the room, carrying a tray full of cookies. She smiles and sets them in the middle of the table before tapping Skye's shoulder and pointing at a clock on the wall.

Galand looks at Digger and smirks. "You and my sister Rhiow would get on well, Digger. She's always after me to take care of myself."

"Glah! I'm late for my next shift!" The Vartan grabs up his crossbow and makes a dash for the door. "We'll talk more later, Ashur. But I'd rather not get docked a copper for missing my flight."

Galand nods. "Go well, m'friend. If it's all right, I'll just wait here."

"S'gonna be a long wait. I'm not coming back in until tomorrow morning. And Dig's on watering duty." Before Galand can say anything more, Skye's outside and airborne.

Galand blinks. "Oh. Digger… think you can give me directions?"

The Savanite bows and nods her head. "We're almost going in the same direction. Be sure and take some cookies with you, though!"

Ashur chuckles and gently pats Digger on the shoulder. "Best cookies on Sinai, my dear lady… and thanks for letting me into your home."

Digger seems quite pleased by the compliment and ushers Galand out of the pile of plants that serve as her 'cabin'. She slowly starts to lead the Khatta back to his own, fancier, house on the other side of the garden.

Some time later, Galand is sitting in the darkened living room of his cottage, fingers steepled before him, lost in thought. He stares at the obsidian ring on his finger and murmurs softly, "You're not going to win… Even if I have to mortgage my soul, you're not going to win." He sits there a few moments longer, then goes into the bedroom for a fitful, haunted sleep, with dreams of dead bats on dinner platters burning behind his eyes…