"Do come in, Inquisitrix," comes a voice from within the Arch Inquisitor's quarters.

Esther opens the door and strides in. Every crease and fold of her uniform is perfect. She gently closes the door behind her. "Sir."

A pepper-haired poodle dressed in a fluffy bright magenta bathrobe reclines on a couch, holding a glass in one hand. He gives Esther the once-over twice, grinning.

"You'll have to pardon my calling you to my private quarters rather than my office," the poodle says, "but this is a matter of utmost importance and confidentiality."

Esther stares intently at the wall just over Moffat's head, and does not move. "Of course, sir."

The Inquisitor looks as if he's about to gesture toward a seat, but stops himself, sipping at the glass in his hand instead. He lets Esther stand there for a bit longer before he continues. "Since you have been away on your last assignment, you may not be fully back up to speed on recent events in the Temple. So, I shall enlighten you."

"Hmm," the poodle muses. "This IS such a strain on my voice, talking across the room to you. Please, do have a seat on the couch, would you? And would you care for a drink? I would hate to show bad manners."

Esther's posture softens slightly. "Thank you, sir. I trust my report on the new digging in Site 12 was up to expectation?"

Esther steps deliberately, moving a bit closer to the couch, but not too close. She turns to admire one of the paintings on the wall.

Moffat nods. "You were thorough as always. And I do appreciate who you add a certain … " he waves his hand, "FLARE to the writings. Why … it is almost as if I were there myself. Your reports are certainly better than the dry, dull forms I get back from many of your fellows. I think that you show great potential to go far, if you continue to perform well."

The painting is a landscape – some land down on the surface, though there are no distinctive landmarks to place it. Rolling hills, with distant blue mountains in the background.

Moffat watches Esther's back, taking another sip at his glass, his hand still laid where it was after his ignored gesture toward the couch.

"This is marvelous… who painted it?" Esther asks thoughtfully.

Esther fidgets with the hand that isn't exposed to Moffat's view.

The poodle smiles. "Kame Ikata. I would not settle for any less than the best. Of course, since you are not in such circles, you might have heard of this one as 'Oilcloud'."

The name of the painter is one not known to the general public who would not bother with such things, but to anyone with any knowledge of high society, it is a name associated with wealth and prestige – for to own an Ikata original is a sign of both.

Esther turns so that she looks at Moffat over her shoulder, tossing her hair just a bit. "I will have to take the word of one who knows, Sir." Her lips turn into a pleasant smile. "What are the recent events of which you wished to inform me?"

"It IS such a pity, that such talent should … Well, we all know that genius is only a step away from insanity," the poodle adds with an almost sad, regretful look. He smiles at Esther, though, and nods, subtly patting on the couch again with his free hand.

"As you have no doubt heard, our DEAR friend Arch Inquisitor Majoris Raphael Melchizedek has been on a rampage, stirring up trouble in Darkside in an ill-aimed attempt to send a 'message' to them after the assassination of du Vorde, and the escape of Shadowspite from the dungeons – along with the death of several valued servants of the Temple," the Arch Inquisitor explains.

Esther furrows her brow and puts her hand to her muzzle in thought.

"During this time, Melchizedek was assigned another Exile to process, one Jarik … Oh, I don't recall his full name at present, but he claims to be a knight or a cleric or a paladin of some sort – a warrior yet a healer as well. He keeps company with kings and such, he claims. In any case, it appears he thwarted an assassination attempt on the Inquisitor Melchizedek which was orchestrated by some unsavory characters in Darkside in retaliation for his brutal crackdown," the poodle adds, before sipping his drink again.

"Now, of course, this would be something the Inquisitor would be grateful for. And, while we all know the cruelties he is capable of, he at least as a mind to reward a good turn. Unfortunately, he seems to have let it cloud his judgement. You see, he has been considering this same Ensign Jarik for a position as a Lieutenant, in light of his 'demonstrated code of conduct and honor'," the poodle adds with a touch of disdain.

Esther turns to face Moffat fully. "I see. And what of the assassins?"

"Do sit down for a while, won't you? I have much to say, and surely your legs will be tired from standing at attention like that," the poodle adds in an overly caring tone.

"Dead," the poodle waves his hand. "The assassins died by mysterious means – some sort of poison with acidic properties that rendered their faces unrecognizeable – as well as, of course, rendering them QUITE incapable of answering any of our questions."

"It was NOT a pretty sight," the poodle adds with a shake of his head.

Esther takes a few measured steps toward the couch, but does not sit – yet. "What are your orders for me concerning these matters? As you know, my speciality is in research, not criminal investigation."

The poodle covers his mouth as he coughs. "Your specialty, my dear girl, is whatever the Arch Inquisitor wants you to do. Nevertheless, your assignment is not to investigate this assassination attempt. That is, unfortunately, in the hands of Inquisitor Melchizedek."

With a gesture of his other hand that makes his drink slosh dangerously, a slight look of annoyance creasing his brow, the poodle explains, "You are to look into this Ensign Jarik, and investigate allegations that he is not suitable for the position Melchizedek has intended to recommend him for."

"Given your species," the poodle nods. "You should surely have an affinity with the bulk of the Guard, and realize how important it is that they not be assigned Lieutenants who are not suited for the task.

"Naturally, Sir," Esther says in a friendly tone.

"Toward this end, I recommend that you investigate a number of scene where it is said that this 'Jarik' has engaged in unacceptable activities," the poodle nods, setting down the glass, and reaching over to pick up a rolled-up report. "Here. You shall find the information you need to begin your work." The poodle does not hold the scrollcase out very far.

Esther ahems a bit, composes herself, and then reaches out for the scrollcase. She takes it, 'accidentally' touching Moffat's fingers as she does so. "Your bidding is my… pleasure, my Lord."

The strong smell of cologne reaches Esther's nose as she retrieves the case. A cologne … with a delicious, mouth-watering smell?

The poodle licks his lips.

Esther sniffs loudly, then pulls away, scroll in hand. She seems to blanch for a moment, then regains her composure and smiles delicately.

What thoughts run through the poodle's mind at this point, he does not share. He sighs, and says, "You have work to do. Do it well. And give me a … full report. It is my pleasure to richly reward those who are loyal," he adds with a suggestive smirk.

"I… I must review this information at once, Sir." Her eyes grow hard and businesslike once again. "Surely we do not want to waste any time."

The poodle nods, his face serious once more, and he straightens up a bit on the couch. "You are dismissed."

Esther bows, to just the appropriate depth. "Thank you, Sir."

Esther turns on her heels and starts for the door.

The poodle's eyes don't depart from her until the door is closed and he is left alone in his quarters. He lets out a long sigh. "I do think he lied to me. Lady Jupani just do NOT seem to be attracted to Eau de Filet Mignon at all… "

Esther, lingering a moment at the closed door before walking away, frowns fiercely and bares her teeth at Moffat's comment. Then she heads off, boot-heels clicking furiously.

Down the winding corridors – having to bypass several shortcuts which have been sectioned off due to structural instability and delayed repairs – the Inquisitrix at last reaches her humble office.

The flourescent lighting here is a luxury, a testament to Esther's status – but one of questionable value, for it occasionally flickers on and off. A well-worn desk is against the wall, next to a wooden "dentist's chair", without any upholstery. Unlike the Inquisitor Melchizedek's office, this one does not sport the gadget-encrusted globe used for introducing the language of Rephidim to Exiles. There is still, however, a full assortment of instruments of torture, neatly hung on the wall.

Esther's collection of instruments is especially diverse – even with a special J-shaped knife perfect for removing segments of Vykarin shells.

Dark stains on the ceiling attest to the occasional use of candles to supplement the irregular lighting, but for now no candles burn – After all, the ventilation in this room leaves much to be desired, and there is no sense in adding to the haze while the Inquisitrix is away.

The Inquisitrix's aide, a male, looks up to Esther with a lolling tongue. "Didzher appointment go well, huh? Huh? We gotta good assignment?"

Esther breathes a heavy sigh as the door to her office is closed behind her.

Namo perks his ears up. "That bad, huh? How bad is it?"

"It's not the assignment, it's the assigner." Esther notices Namo's expression. "Put your tongue back in your mouth. The janitorial staff hates us as it is."

The all-black wolf puts his quill back into the inkpot, then closes his mouth and works it around a bit. "Huh? What, a liddle drool never hurt anything. You're awfully snappy today, Inquisitrix. Doncha like your new boss?"

Esther says, "That is none of your business, Namo; and honestly, you'd be better off not knowing. Now let's review our orders."

Namo looks hurt, ears drooping.

Esther unfolds the scrollcase and removes the scroll, spreading it on the desk for both of them to read.

The first page is a directive from Arch Inquisitor Caesar Moffat, repeating the assignment Esther was already given, though far more verbose, in report-speak.

The black wolf pushes some papers aside, accidentally knocking the inkpot off the desk. "Yelp!" He scurries to mop up the spreading blot with some towels. "Sorry, milady."

Namo's tail and ears droop even more.

Esther rrrrs a bit, rubs her face with her hands, and continues reading.

Underneath it is a hand-written copy of Arch Inquisitor Majoris Melchizedek's report of his interview with the Exile known as Jarik … ending with the recommendation that Jarik be assigned to serve as a circuit healer for the Temple in order to pay off his processing fee, for the duration of one year.

The report makes mention of Jarik's claim to be from a world called 'Genesis' or 'Genocide', or something along those lines. There is a cross-reference to a report concerning the processing of an Exile known as Ben'zhamin, who also claimed to be from a world that may well be the same.

Namo sops up the ink spill and sighs. "Hafta sign for some more squid juice now. I hate dealing with Offizh Supplies! They lookit me like I'm just going to chuck all their neat stuff out the windows. Hah. If we HAD windows." He cleans up the broken inkpot and mess and tosses it in a trash can.

In summary, the Exile claimed to be a "knight of Crydon", a sort of knight errant who once possessed magical powers, but who apparently lost most of them upon arriving in Sinai. There is mention of him being found by a tribe of roaming Vykarin – troublesome northern wolf-armadillo-horse barbarians – and that he had performed some sort of magical healing powers on one of their number. He also had in his possession a blade of fine make – of Expedition-grade steel, perhaps – which was left in his possession despite the obvious value and potential for research and discovery.

"Don't worry about it, Namo," Esther sighs resignedly. "Just put my tea on, would you? I need to think."

No proof was found of his ability to work magic, but his knowledge of basic medical procedures was verified, and accompanying updates show that he is being considered for assignment to a patrol ship crew, to serve as an assistant to the ship's doctor.

"Right away, Inquisitrix," her aide says. He pads across the office and locates the tea kettle, then to the sink where he turns the knob. Nothing happens.

Namo gives the plumbing a quick kick and water gurgles from the spout.

Esther hmms. .oO ( I think we need to learn a bit more from Jarik, and recover that sword of his for study… )

Another report covers his assignment to escort a lady noble by the name of Alyssa. Apparently this trip met with some hazards, though no great damage. The knight's sword was reported stolen during the occasion, the site of the crime being at the Three Thieves Inn.

Soon enough, water is being heated on a small portable oil cooker. Namo swishes his tail boredly. "So what's the assignment, huh? Huh?"

Esther muses. "We get to interview some Exiles, Namo. This might not be such a bad assignment." She smiles thinly. "Not bad at all."

Namo looks bored as he takes the water off before it boils, and drops the tea leaves in to simmer. "Is that all? Hoped maybe we'd get to do a little travelling, huh? That's always fun."

"Oh, I think it's nice to stay home once in a while," Esther says, humoring Namo. "There are certain advantages to it… such as having friends close by."

The black wolf mutters. "So, whadawe gotta inter-O-gate da Exile for? He do something bad?"

Another report, dated not long after, details another assignment to escort the Lady Alyssa. During this same day, Jarik was spotted in Darkside, entering an establishment of ill repute known as The Open Arms – an inn-turned-whorehouse, owned by a disagreeable person known as S'Lezan. Also attached is a medical report – It seems that when Jarik returned, he was sent to the Infirmary, to have several wounds examined, including having the pictogram for 'fool' carved into his back.

Esther says, "No, this won't be that type of interview. We may have need of what he knows."

Another report – out of order – a bit poorly and hastily written – makes mention of the recent assassination attempt on Arch Inquisitor Melchizedek's life. Jarik is credited with having been at the scene and having dispatched the two assassins. How he found this secluded shrine – a frequent spot for the Inquisitor to visit in the neglected bowels of the Temple – or WHY he would go there, is not known.

"I k'n beat it out o' him, whateve you wanna know," Namo says with tongue lolling again.

Esther's eyes widen a little bit at that last. .oO ( I wonder if he's in league with the assassins? hm. )

A note attached to this report may account for its being out of order . There is a note referring to a memorandum from Melchizedek which recommends consideration of Jarik for a position as a lieutenant. By the date of the note, it appears it was written while the Inquisitor was still under doctors' supervision, being treated for wounds suffered in the assassination attempt.

Namo finishes steeping a truly excellent green tea with a hint of mint for esther. "Here ya go, m'lady. Tea for thought, huh?"

Yet another note is more hastily scrawled, not all the sections properly completed. It appears Jarik was discovered in the quarters of a Savanite by the name of Azhtar – Melchizedek's personal slave. He was found in a disrobed status, in the bed. This seems to be the note to prompt recommendation of an investigation of his suitability for the position of Lieutenant – on account of question of moral character. Thus end the reports, except for a few rough maps indicating the locations described.

Esther blinks. "Oh! Yes. Tea." She takes a sip. "Fine work as usual, Namo."

Namo wagwags his tail. "Thank you, Inquisitrix. So, should I get the knuckles?"

"Huh, huh?"

Esther rolls up the scroll and pushes it into Namo's hands. "I want a copy of this for my personal records. The maps especially must be good; see to it that you reference the Library to get better descriptions of the areas. And no smudges this time."

"Right away, m'lady," Namo says. "I'll do m'best, huh?" He gives Esther a snappy salute.

Esther says, "Where are Garrel and Remuel? I need them to provide an escort."

Namo's ears droop. "Um… They're out hun – er, walking. This IS their day off, y'know, huh?"

Esther scowls slightly. "Well, then, I guess you will have to do it. Go find Ensign Jarik and tell him to report to this office at once. Use my signet if you have to convince any of his superiors; they'll listen."

"At once, Inquisitrix. Um. Before I make dem copies?" Namo tilts his head, one ear flopping over.

Esther says, "And don't be rough with him, Namo. I'd better not find that you mistreated a member of the Temple Guard."

Namo holds a paw over his heart. "I'd NEVER do something like that, m'lady. Unless dey deserved it, you bet, huh?"

The black wolf looks earnest with big puppy eyes.

Esther stops to think. "Hm. You had better make those copies first, actually. Inform Jarik that he is to meet me in my office tomorrow." She smiles. "After you've finished those few things, you may go."

Namo nods. "Right away, m'lady!"

The black wolf dips his quill into the ink pot as he unrolls the map, and starts making broad strokes on the paper… Until he realizes that there's virtually no ink on the quill. "Dagh. Gotta go talk to Offizh Supplies. I'll be back, Inquisitrix!"

Namo scoots out of the office.

Esther sips her tea, taking a seat behind the desk. She yawns and stretches a bit.

… The next morning, in the barracks infirmary …

The Temple infirmary is far more crowded and sparsely equipped than the one Jarik saw when the Inquisitor Melchizedek was being tended to. A wolf goes to the fox as the latter is summoned, and brings him along – the fox hobbling on a crutch – to meet the Inquisitrix.

A side-chamber has a table and a few chairs to provide seating for the Inquisitrix and her subject if she cares not to stand for the entire duration.

Esther stands up as Namo and Jarik enter the room. "Ah, good, you're here. Please, have a seat in here." She leads them into the next room.

Jarik walks along quietly. o O { So, I've annoyed Arch Inquisitor Moffat… Interesting. }

Jarik nods to Esther quietly. He walks in front of one of the chairs and lowers himself into it carefully.

"Namo," she barks briskly. "Please leave us."

His ears drooping just a bit, the big black wolf scoots out of the chamber, closing the door behind him.

Jarik's amber eyes scan over the wolf, searching for any indication of what this is about…

Esther, still in the uniform of an Inquisitrix, neatly-pressed and fitted, seems to be in a bit better mood now. Her deep gray eyes look deep into Jarik's, seeming to search his soul. She sits, her tall, slim frame relaxing in the high-backed cushioned chair.

Jarik places his crutch on his lap. The fox looks at the wolf expectantly. After a moment he speaks, "May I ask why I am here?"

Esther says, "I have learned about the service you have done for this Temple and for Arch Inquisitor Melchizedek. Toward that end, I have been asked to make a formal investigation into certain related matters."

Jarik nods slighty.

Esther smiles. "I don't know if you have heard the good news, but you have been recommended for promotion."

Jarik looks rather surprised, "Me? I was under the impression that I wasn't… liked. But, this world has played havok with my… abilities. I can't tell these things so easily anymore."

Esther says, "I see… perhaps that is something we can look into separately."

Esther clears her throat. "I understand you lost a sword of some great value?"

Jarik nods again, "I did. It's of more value to me than anyone."

Esther chuckles lightly. "Oh, I don't know about that, Ensign. From what I have been told, your sword is akin to genuine Expedition artifacts – perhaps even First One artifacts. There are many nobles, mages, and priests in Rephidim who would pay chests full of gold for it."

Esther says, "I myself would like the opportunity to study it… with your cooperation, naturally."

Jarik interlaces his fingers. "It is not of this world, M'lady" he says, "It would be of little use to them. In the wrong hands, if could be dangerous."

Esther says, "My interest is scientific. Others' interest may not be. But that is irrelevant if we do not recover it. That is primarily why I have called you here today."

Jarik says, "Every Crydonian paladin knows the legend of the sword, M'lady. I could tell you that if you wish. It's not terribly informative."

Esther says, "I wanted to speak privately with you about the details of the theft at this time. My resources could be of use to you in regaining it. You do feel, don't you, that it is only fair to include you in this effort?"

Jarik nods, "Personally, I would like to know more of the weapon myself. I'll help you on one condition. I retain ownership of it."

Esther reaches out and patpats Jarik gently. "Of course. As I said, I would like to study and catalog it myself, but that can be done quickly. I will return it to you after that."

Jarik nods slightly again, "Well then, what would you like to know?"

Esther says, "Tell me more about the circumstances of the theft. Do you know the thief? Do you know who might have ordered him to get it from you?"

Jarik chuckles, "Nothing so grand, I'm afraid. He stole it to impress other thieves. His name is Tirro. He's a small kavi dressed in black.

Esther says, "Can you give me a thorough description of the sword? A drawing, perhaps?"

Jarik says, "I was trying to end a fight at the Tavern Alyssa and I stopped in so she could dry off. I was making a guesture of peace. I held out my hands, sword laying in them. He grabbed it and ran."

Jarik thinks a moment… "It's about 3 and a half feet long… " he continues, "The blade is scratched and nicked steel. The crossguard is a slightly crescent curved brass bar, rather tarnished. The grip is leather-wrapped and frayed."

Esther says, "We will have Namo draw it per your description as soon as the opportunity arises."

Esther sits and thinks for a moment.

Jarik leans back in his chair, "It's a rather mundane, old-looking sword. I assure you, it is FAR from mundane."

"Ensign Jarik," she says after a long pause, "As a knight, you are bound by honor and by your word, are you not?"

Jarik nods, "Correct."

Esther says, "I would ask a personal favor of you then, on that basis."

Esther does not look Jarik in the face. In the shadows of the small room, he cannot see the expression on her face.

Jarik tilts his head slightly and listens.

Esther says, "I am sure you know that there are many here in this Temple who are… less charitably inclined toward Exiles than I."

Jarik says, "Less charitable? Hostile is a better term, M'lady."

"It is… it is, yes." Esther clears her throat. "I would like you to answer me a question, then; and on your honor not to reveal what has been said in this room."

Jarik nods again, "Done. Upon my honor, I will not speak of this conversation to anyone."

Esther says, "Which… is greater, your loyalty to this Temple, or your loyalty unto those who deal with you honorably?"

Esther turns to face Jarik, studying his face in the near darkness, at the uncomfortable delay.

Jarik tilts his head again, "Interesting question. I am bound to this temple by my debt. I will serve it until the debt is paid. If you're questioning whether or not I'm a threat to the temple, I am not. Those who treat me honorably earn my service without such a debt."

Esther breathes deeply in relief, the tense moment past. "That is an honest answer, Ensign, and I value your honesty. I will endeavor to act in kind with you."

Jarik says, "Either way, I am honor bound to serve this temple. I will do so loyally."

Jarik says, "May I say something M'lady?"

Esther says, "Please do."

Jarik says, "In regards to the recent attempt on the inquisitor's life, I think it was a ruse."

Esther was about to stand, but sits again. "Really? And why do you think so?"

Jarik looks at Esther, his eyes narrowing, "Because, they could have

easily

Jarik says, "Secondly, they were poor swordswolves. No real assassination attempt would be asked of them."

Esther rubs her chin thoughtfully.

Jarik says, "I believe I was drugged to keep me from finding out."

Jarik says, "Anyway, interesting questions I intend to find the answer to."

Jarik smiles, "I hope I've been of help."

Esther says, "Your diligence is noted. And yes, you have been helpful."

Esther stands. "We will speak again, Ensign Jarik. There will be more for us to talk about next time."

Esther smiles warmly. "And I would like to hear more about what life is like where you once lived."

Jarik places the crutch on the floor and pushes himself back to standing.

Jarik smiles again, "Which? Crydon or Genesis?"

Namo waits patiently and faithfully just outside the door.

Esther opens the door. "Namo, please take direction from Ensign Jarik and create a drawing of his sword. I will need it."

Namo, tongue lolling, nods up and down several times, eager to put one of his other talents to good use in the service of his superior. "Uhuh! Right away, Inquisitrix!"

"Not too much at once, Ensign," Esther says, smiling at the joke. "First we must complete the investigation. Then perhaps there will be time for such details."

Esther turns away after Jarik leaves, planning her next move.