Turtle marches gracefully across the grounds, clad in her usual Inquisitrix attire (well, unusual by Temple standards, but fashionably superior at least) once more, her crossbow slung in its usual place. She looks on at the mixed tents and culture of the Bazaar with equally mixed emotions, wonder and disgust at this rag-tag collection of booths holding the spot she once knew to hold a well-established part of the city.

A couple of Jupani guards walk near the Inquisitrix, to each side. One of them is a male, brown-furred, with amber eyes, while the other, a female, is gray with eyes of ice blue. They scan the crowd with wary gazes, occasionally baring teeth to ward off street urchins who "wander" a little too closely.

A black Korv in the robes of a Temple priest flutters into view, landing in front of Turtle, with a "*KAW*". He bows his head. "Greetings again, Inquisitrix. I have spotted the poodles just a couple blocks ahead, paused at a booth."

Turtle nods casually, still half-distracted by the surroundings. "Very well then," she says, and follows where Neekto leads.

Neekto bows his head again, then flutters into the air, leading the way down the street, in the direction the Inquisitrix was already headed, since her contacts had been pretty accurate anyway, and her 'quarry' has not been moving very quickly through the Bazaar – with no incentive to do so. Soon, her group comes upon a booth where a vendor is selling a multitude of stuffed foxes – some with gray fur and five tails apiece, dressed in garishly-colored shirts. Many of them are quite possibly leftovers from Guy Fox Day, now deprived of explosive stuffings, and replaced with more mundane varieties, in the hopes of selling them off as toys rather than pricey fireworks.

A group of poodles – evidently high-born – can be found here. The "leader" would seem to be one Eustace do Varr, son of Arch-Inquisitor do Varr, and present at the opera the night when Abednego bar Abbas met his untimely end. Also with him is Doctor Louis Magritte of Gallis, the one who found the poison. And, in addition, there is Pierre duBois, also of Gallis, an actor and associate of the late bar Abbas. A few other young and well-to-do poodles cluster around, giggling for no apparent reason.

Turtle eyes drift over the five tailed foxes. "What strange items this place has, Neekto," she says, with a touch of casual sarcasm her voice, "Who would have ever thought to give a Zerda five tails?"

Neekto leans back to Turtle and says, "Well, I am not learned of such things, but I've heard tales of deformed creatures from the Himaat… "

Turtle cocks her eyebrows at Neekto, then turns her attention to the gathered crowd. "Good day, sirs," she calls out evenly, her expression growing colder, "The Temple wishes to speak with a few of you … namely about the murder of Abednego bar Abbas, if you will recall… "

A couple of young lady poodles, one hanging on each arm of the actor Pierre duBois, gasp and shrink back, as the group turns to face Turtle. Eustace do Varr is still in the middle of some sort of merry chatter, a bit slow to realize what's going on. "… Really, to be more realistic, they should make the doll smell like sewage." He begins laughing at his own joke, finds no one else is laughing, looks a bit annoyed, and then notices Turtle.

Turtle hardly seems amused herself. She crosses her arms.

Pierre duBois recovers his suave demeanor and grin and bows to Turtle. "Of course, mademoiselle! How may I be of service?" His ladyfriends shrink back, and look as if they're anxious to find an exit.

Turtle says, "I do believe that you were at the opera the night Abednego bar Abbas was murdered. As well as Mister do Varr and Doctor Magritte? For that reason, I have been sent to ask some questions."

"Ask away, mademoiselle," Pierre says, rising from his bow. The doctor nods as well, as does Eustace, while Eustace's "friends" make hasty excuses, and begin to clear out – those who weren't at the opera, that is.

Turtle tosses her hair aside before continuing. "Well, first of all, I am interested as to how well you knew the deceased at the time. What was your relationship with him?"

Pierre seems to assume that he is the one being spoken to first, and bows his head, adopting an appropriately melancholy expression. "Ah yes. Abednego. Truly a bright star in the operatic scene. I worked with him many a time, touring the world: Fleaufille, Fauxpas, Nagai, Safar, Blitzheim, Babel, Justinipole … and, of course, Rephidim. Loved him like a brother, I did. Even though he's an Eeee, that is."

Turtle raises her eyebrows. "Even though? Why, you don't sound too disposed to his species."

Pierre's ears blush. "Oh! Nonono! Not at all! You misunderstand, mademoiselle! I merely meant that, seeing as I am a Gallisian, and he is a Babelite, we could not, of course, be brothers. It was merely an unnecessary stating of the obvious."

Turtle says, "Very well. I'm sure it must have been fascinating working with a man like Monsieur bar Abbas. Tell me more. Was there anything unusual you even noticed in your relationship with him? Anything you would deem worthy to note to me?"

Pierre pauses a while, squinting, as if trying really hard to think of something, then says, "Well, he especially valued his time alone. Oh yes – And he always ate in private. Never much for social gatherings. I was fairly surprised that he agreed to be involved at all in the party before the opera. I had seen it as a positive sign." He pauses, to dab at one eye. "Oh, but alas!"

Turtle hardly seems moved by his show of emotion. "Indeed. And Mister do Varr, perhaps you can tell me something about how you knew the deceased?"

Eustace do Varr looks mildly offended. "Know? Well, I knew very well that he was a highly acclaimed operatic star. And I ALSO heard rumors that he might be a SPY for the Sabaoth!"

Turtle raises an eyebrow again. "The Temple is well aware of that rumor, sir. But I hardly consider that a part of this particular investigation, if you will, unless of course you or your associates wish to offer proof?"

Eustace shrugs. "Proof? Well, he's a Babelite, isn't he? Or was. Now he's dead, so it's a moot point."

Turtle gives Eustace an annoyed look, but says nothing, turning instead to the doctor. "I would venture to ask you also. What was your relationship with the deceased, if there was any?"

Doctor Magritte bows, then says, "My contact with him was in a professional capacity, as his physician for a limited time. I treated him for a blood problem that afflicts some of the Eeee. I regret to say that I shall not find out whether or not my treatments would prove to be successful."

Turtle nods. "Of course. Now would you mind if I question you each in turn about the night of the murder? Exactly what did you do the night in question?"

All three begin to talk, but then stop as they realize they're talking at the same time, then just stand in silence, looking back at the Inquisitrix.

Turtle looks quite surprised. "Perhaps I should address you first, Monsieur duBois?"

Pierre duBois bows again, then says, "Of course, mademoiselle. I was, of course, in the play, 'The Avatar of Necropolis', in the honored role of Czar Justinian the Fifth … and appearing again as his son, Czar Justinian the Sixth, in a later scene. Before the opera, I was mingling with the crowd, and admiring beautiful women, such as yourself, until it was time to go on stage."

Neekto hmphs audibly.

Turtle refrains a smile towards the Korv. "Very well, sir. Did you notice anything unusual that you can recall then? Perhaps anyone behaving a bit strangely, or something on stage out of order?"

Pierre shrugs in the typically Gallisian manner, then says, "No, mademoiselle. Not other than the Count and Countess arguing noisily, that young lord Justinian rushing off while I was still performing, Lady Marionette flirting with every male in attendance, and my compatriot dying."

Turtle snorts. "Only that, you say?" She sounds very annoyed. "Perhaps you could help me further by telling me further what you know about these things."

Pierre's ears blush again, and he says, "Well … You heard the Count and Countess making noise as well as I did, I'm sure. As to what caused their disagreements, I have no idea. I am not privy to Sylvanian politics. As for Lord Justinian … well, I found his behavior ESPECIALLY disconcerting, but not surprising. After all, this version of the 'Avatar of Necropolis' is banned in Sylvania. In Rephidim, however, we felt free to present it in its original, unaltered, gloss-free form. Living a sheltered life, I'm sure he couldn't appreciate it. And as for Lady Marionette … well, all of Gallis – save perhaps for her husband, the Marquis – knows about her dalliances."

Turtle's eyes are open wide at all this. "Well… " she retains her composure, "Thank you very much. Mister do Varr, I do believe you are next."

Eustace squeaks, "Me?" and then regains his composure. "Well, Inquisitrix, I was there at the opera, seeing as my FATHER was invited, but was too busy to attend, and gave me permission to go in his stead. I certainly can't pass up something like this, being as cultured as I am." He smiles self-assuredly. "Plus, the food was fabulous. As far as my knowledge of events, I was there to see the opera, and have never seen Abednego bar Abbas before in my life. Just as well. I do not wish to be associated with possible traitors and spies."

Turtle looks slightly exasperated. "And what were your actions that night? Did you go anywhere besides the party or the opera itself? Did you also see anything suspicious or out of the ordinary?"

Eustace says, "Well, of course, I went home afterwards. I never did find out what happened to that Justinian fellow. I suppose he ran back to Sylvania by now. If you ask me, I'd suspect maybe he had Abednego bumped off because he was offended about having one of his ancestors portrayed as a wicked necromancer. I mean, if someone tried to portray my dear mother as a necromancer, I would certainly be very angry. Not that I would poison anyone. I am a loyal and law-abiding citizen, after all… "

Turtle scowls at the sky. "Of course. In that case, I suppose that leaves you, Doctor. Perhaps you can tell me what you did the entire time that night? Or of anything unusual you saw?"

Doctor Magritte says, "There was nothing really unusual that night, save for the obvious. I mean, of course, there were the disturbances that the Count and Countess – Karstein and Draco, that is – were causing, but nothing unexpected. All in all, I think it was a very fine opera. I think he'll be very pleased to know how well-received it was."

Turtle says, "He, sir?"

"Abednego bar Ab – " the doctor says, before cutting himself off with a hand over his mouth. "My pardon. Ahem. He WOULD be pleased. Well, really, if you believe in an afterlife, I guess you COULD say… " He blushes and clears his throat.

Turtle furrows her brows further into the scowl, looking more pensive. "Indeed, indeed… "

The doctor says, "It was all very shocking. I still haven't quite recovered from it all."

Eustace pats the doctor on the shoulder. "There, there. It was quite shocking for all of us. I must say, that was QUITE a performance he put on. He'll be well-remembered for years to come."

The doctor says, "I'm terribly sorry that we're not of much help. Perhaps we should be moving along and let you get back to your investigation, Inquisitrix?"

Turtle nods to the poodles coolly. "You may have helped me more than you realize." She looks down at Neekto, "Well, are you coming?"

Neekto flaps his wings, snapping out of whatever he was thinking about, with a loud squawk. "*KAW!* Yes, Inquisitrix!"

The poodles look at each other, then give Turtle uncomfortable smiles.

Pierre says, "Of course, Mademoiselle! It is our endeavor to assist you however possible!" He bows.

The doctor nods. "Certainly. If you require me, I should be easy to reach. I'll be in Rephidim a while to study techniques before returning to my practice in Gallis."

Turtle saunters off, smiling to herself until she's just out of their view. "Now, Neekto, let's find a nice dress shop in this rambles of a marketplace."