Several Zelaks stand by in case this fox turns out to be more than he seems.

"I've been framed!" the fox squeals. "Whatever it is, I didn't do it! Wahhhhhh!"

The Inquisitor walks around, holding some unrecognizable instrument. "Well now, such the innocent you are… always happening to be around right when an assassin is committing foul deeds. Why, someone who doesn't know any better might suspect you of somehow being involved… "

The unicorn walks up to the muddied fox, carrying the strange implement. He pauses, then, looking toward the doorway. "Aha. There you are. Please, bring Ensign Jarik in with you, would you?"

A couple of wolf guards appear in the doorway, with Jarik – on crutches – between them.

The muddied fox on the rack whines piteously. "I'm innocent! Innocent, I tell you!"

Melchizedek paces around, brandishing the exotic instrument, waving it about nonchalantly. "Now, Ensign Jarik, if you do well enough, you just might someday be assisting me in my duties, so I presumed that while you are at the Temple, you should observe some of my work, and learn from it."

Jarik looks at the unicorn and nods slightly.

"This fox," the unicorn gestures, "although he is barely recognizable as one, seems to be plagued with a case of being conveniently in the wrong place at the wrong time. Hmm. You see, he was in the dungeons at the same time a scoundrel who claimed to be Cylan Redtail – and then later Zephyr Blackpaw – was being held and questioned after he caused a bit of a fight in my office."

Jarik blinks, "Zephyr… "

"And then," the unicorn continues, "this little fox managed to escape, his whereabouts unaccounted for … during the same time period in which the dungeon barber and several hard-working guards were murdered, and our friend 'Redtail' escaped."

Jarik nods again…

Jarik says, "Sir … could you describe this 'Redtail'?"

"However, we have him back again, as you can see. It would seem he has been through some terrible times … not nothing to compare to what he will face if he does not cooperate," the unicorn nods. "I don't believe, you see, in chance and circumstance."

The unicorn taps the muddied fox on the shoulder with the implement, then turns around. "Now, Ensign Jarik, you are here to observe, not to interrogate me. Though, I suppose I should take that as a promising sign for future work. If you have questions, please make them relevant. However, I can oblige in this matter – "

Jarik nods again…

"'Cylan Redtail', as he claimed to be, would be described as a vulpine humanoid about your size, though of digitigrade leg structure, without any head hair, and of a decidedly feral nature," the unicorn observes. "Quite a disagreeable fellow – but that only follows, since he is also known as 'Shadowspite', the assassin."

Jarik says, "You said he also called himself Zephyr? As in Zephyr Blackpaw?"

"Presently, he should be identifiable by a few areas shaved off of his wrists, his ankles and the base of his tail, during his stay at our … 'Economy Guest Suites'." The unicorn nods, then turns toward his prisoner.

Jarik says, "I'm sorry for interrupting. I once knew a Zephyr Blackpaw who fit your description."

The little fox squeals out, "No! No! I saw him! I saw him in the sewers! He escaped down by that big reservoir!"

The unicorn raises his eyebrows, waving the instrument at the fox's nose. "Oh – really, now? Such coincidences! Will wonders never cease?"

The little fox shrinks back, letting out a long, pitiful whine. "Honest," he weakly whimpers.

Jarik watches. If he was in better shape, he would have tried to save the poor fox.

Sounds of running come from outside the work room, and then a messenger arrives at the door. "Inquisitor Melchizedek! It's terrible news! Absolutely horrific!" He is a cocker spaniel with wild eyes.

The unicorn turns, distracted from applying the instrument to the whining little vulpine. "What is it now?" he demands, his annoyance unconcealed.

The cocker spaniel exclaims, "They thought they'd chased the assassin away before he could kill anyone… But they were wrong! We saw him clearly, just as you said, shaved around the wrists, and then we lost him in the sewers… And… And." He gasps for breath. Perhaps he has told this tale a few times.

The unicorn turns around fully upon mention of the sewers. "And!?" he demands forcefully.

"The Captain-Astromancer! He's dead! Stabbed with one of his own steak knives, right through the throat. The guards saw a running vulpine figure, can't mistake the big bushy tail." The spaniel gasps again. "He stood right there in the Procession light, and we could all see the places you said were cut … And then he jumped off the wall and flew away! Sprouted great big wings, like an Eeee!"

Jarik thinks. { Interesting. }

*CLATTER* The instrument held in the unicorn's hand hits the floor. "The … Captain Astromancer … dead?" He turns, back toward the little fox, fists clenching and unclenching.

"Inquisitor Supreme Maleficos… " The spaniel gasps. "He's proclaimed Mourning for the whole Temple! But we're not to say anything about it outside, not 'til the Bridge's ready to announce it. They're calling a Council right now; they want you there! We have to decide what to do!"

Wide eyes regard the unicorn. The little fox gulps. "I didn't do it!"

The spaniel wheezes and flumps against the side of the door.

"Failed."

"I've failed," the unicorn pronounces.

Jarik mutters to himself, "I knew it. It was a distraction."

Eyes filled with hatred turn back toward the doorway, regarding no one in particular. "If all of Darkside must burn, there will be vengeance."

The unicorn marches toward the doorway, barely giving the wolf guards time to move aside with Jarik. His robes billow behind him, showing alternating flashes of scarlet and black, as he cuts his way out of the chamber.

Jarik says, "Sir… ?"

The Inquisitor does not hear, does not respond. He is down the hall – and gone.

Jarik looks to the poor fox. "Little one," he speaks in a soft tone, "I won't harm you. Please tell me what you saw?"

The cocker spaniel looks at Jarik with some alarm. "Sir – if you have family in Darkside or anywhere near it… You'd better tell them to take a long vacation." He gulps some water and then sets off to summon the next Inquisitor.

Jarik nods to the spaniel. "I have no family. I haven't for a long time."

"I'm sorry to hear that," the spaniel says. "May the First Ones keep your friends safe then." He rushes down the hall.

The fox shivers and shakes so hard, it almost looks like he could vibrate free by his fear alone. "I … I … in the sewers. They did the 'fox flush' on me … I went down … (gulp!) And there was another fox, too, only bigger. Just like he described. Shaved around the wrists –I couldn't see his ankles."

Jarik says, "Who did this … 'fox flush'?"

"The nobles," the fox sputters. "They didn't like my music. Down you go!" He bawls!

Jarik nods again. He rests his weight against the wall, "Could you describe this fox any better?"

One of the wolves says, "It's time to go back to the Infirmary, Ensign Jarik." Nonetheless, he waits for a bit.

Jarik nods to the wolf. "I'd like to try something. It won't take but a moment."

The little fox quivers, "Red fur, bald – I mean, no head hair – and with legs like mine, see? Only bigger."

"He … he asked me if I could swim!" the vulpine bawls again.

Jarik says, "What was his voice like?"

The fox pauses a long time, then sounds like he's trying to mimic someone. "He talked sort of like this!"

Jarik's ears swivel. "I see."

Jarik says, "Now … I'd like you to relax… okay?"

"Time to go," one of the wolves says, looking out the door.

"R-r-relax?" the fox whimpers.

Jarik limps his way over to the little vulpine. He extends his left hand and lays it on his shoulder.

The strong smell of sewage assaults Jarik's nose. Wherever this fox has been … it wasn't pleasant. Jarik closes his eyes and takes a few deep breaths. Seconds pass, each seem to take a bit longer than the previous. A soft blue glow envelops his hand just for an instant…

The little fox yelps!

A massive flash of blue … a shriek … the sound of someone falling to the ground.

The wolves rush forward. "What have you done to Ensign Jarik?" one demands, punching at the little fox. The other reaches down to pick up Jarik.

The prisoner yelps pitifully, then swoons.

Jarik coughs, "No… " His voice wavers, "It was me… tried to read his emotions… tried… couldn't. Pain."

Angrily, the wolves march out of the room, Jarik and his crutches in tow, headed back to the Infirmary.

In Rephidim Port, a slim vixen stows her hang glider by snapping the wooden rods together, then wrapping the taut fabric about and tying the lot up. She walks up to a slim, small airship with fast lines and more sails than are reasonable for any merchanter and tosses the glider up to the crew, which stows it obligingly.

Maps calls to Shadowspite, "Good to see ya. We're late fer our appointment, let's get a move on, eh?"

Shadowspite grins back at her old friend. "Wonder how our 'friend' is getting along… Probably dead or nearly so. We'll see if the Templars are any good at their job."

As the airship clears the dock, Shadowspite turns back to look at the Temple. "Old fellow. Must have known his life was up. He didn't even scream. Just whimpered." Then the sails billow and catch the harsh night wind, and Shadowspite goes.