It is an hour later in the infirmary and the guards are starting to nod off when a borzhoi hound priest walks in, dressed in a heavy ornate robe with much exquisitely dyed braids of office and regalia. "Here. Your friend that you wanted to buy. Are you happy?" he says disagreeably to the small black-clad Kavi, gesturing to a wolf across the infirmary. The wrong patient.

Tirro shakes his head. "The fellow that my master was talking about was a fox. Answers to… Charig? Something like that.

"A fox eh?" Priest Rubadan looks around. "Ah. That seedy looking fellow over there. You've seen him. Good enough?"

Tirro nods, as he oh-so-casually brushes against Priest Rubadan's robes. "That must be him."

Tirro says, "Thank you very kindly. My master wanted me to see in what condition he was."

"Well, you obviously can't afford to buy him, with just four silvers… Even if we WERE in the habit of selling off our indentured servants, which we do NOT do, I assure you," Rubadan says with annoyance as he walks across to where the fox is sleeping. "Just think of all the expenses this young fellow has run up for us!"

Tirro sets himself on a stool beside the sleeping fox, looking down to him.

Fortunately for the little thief, none of the guards seem to have noticed him snugging up to the priest more familiarly than Darksiders should to their betters.

Tirro says, "I can't imagine him being worth much more to you… I have heard that he frequents the most unSAVORY of places, and gets into horrible fights."

Tirro peers down at the sleeping fox, as if to note the condition that he's in.

Rubadan rants. "First there is the Exile processing fee. Do you think our highly trained Inquisitors work cheaply? No, they came to their positions after many long and hard years of work and distinguished service in the Temple's service. Then there's the uniform, issuing of weapons and armor as needed, and the medical bills. Add it up, do the numbers," the sharp-looking hound says insistently to Tirro with a look of scorn as if to suggest 'you don't even know what I'm talking about, do you… '

"By the time we reach the end of a year of indentured servitude, he's already run up quite a bill, and we are being quite generous, I think, in calling it quits at that point. But for now? Nothing less than three gold, I think, would satisfy the Temple. And then we must add on… " Rubadan eyes Tirro. "A few silvers perhaps, for a paperwork processing fee. This sort of thing just isn't done."

"So you see," Rubadan says firmly to Tirro. "This fox is not for sale to any common riffraff off the street."

"uuugh", rasps the fox and his body stirs.

Tirro tries to fake as if some mythical master buys slaves every day. "Yes, yes… and how many future medical expenses do you think that he'll have?" He turns back to the priest. "I thank you for the rough estimation of the cost of this servant."

A single amber eye cracks open, "Tii… Tirro?"

Tirro says, "Good morning, Charig."

Rubadan says as an afterthought, "I wonder if we should charge the time you're spending in the infirmary against your overall time of service, Ensign Jarik. It's time you're not working for us after all." He glances sidelong at Tirro as if eying a disagreeable little animal that had just presumed to becoem overly familiar with his nice clean robes.

Jarik coughs? Or laughs? Hard to tell, "It's Jarik."

Tirro oopses. "Sorry. Didn't catch your name before." He tries to figure how to say what needs to be said – without giving up the ruse of his master.

Jarik coughs again, "Tirro… I'm sorry."

Tirro says, "My master wishes to convey to you that he may not be able to keep his larger promise to you and to your family. He will, however, be glad to meet you at a neutral location – to discuss anything else of mutual benefit that might be shared."

Rubadan gives the two a slightly scandalized look. "Apologizing to street scum! Really, Ensign Jarik. We must maintain a certain degree of appearances around here." He stands. "Well, if there is nothing else. Convey my estimate to your master, boy, and come back when he is prepared to be serious with the Temple. We are not a slave market!"

Tirro nods, and gets up. "Get well, Jarik." he says, in almost a whisper.

Jarik says, "Let him stay a moment… please?"

Jarik says, "Just one moment."

Rubadan mms. "Well, I suppose I may allow that. His visiting fee may well cover a few more moments of my time." He stands and walks toward the entrance of the infirmary, then looks disapprovingly about the room. All these idle layabouts, costing the Temple money!

Tirro sets himself down, next to Jarik. "Yes?"

Jarik turns to look at Tirro, "I… owe you a debt of gratitude… if nothing else. If you ever need help… just ask."

Rubadan takes mental notes. New sick leave policy. For indentured servants, add time spent in the infirmary, incapacitated, to the length of their contract.

Just outside the infirmary, a voice murmurs to another person, "Really, Lady do Verani, it isn't necessary to visit such a place. Why, think of all the diseases you could catch from mongrels!"

The voice wheedles, "Are you sure that you wouldn't rather write him a nice letter?"

Tirro smiles softly. "You're welcome. I'm sorry that I can't spring you. Oh… here." he says, trying to put something into Jarik's hand.

Tirro hears a name that he'd rather not hear. "Oh, dear. I believe that's my cue."

Tirro gets up quickly. "ThankyouIcanshowmyselfthewayout," he says breathlessly.

A soft voice murmurs in response… "I am sure. My father is a noble, did I tell you? And he believes in helping the sick and injured. Please let me pass!"

Jarik says, "Take care Tirro… "

Tirro seems to skulk along the shadows, blending in with them.

Jarik looks at his hand.

Alyssa strolls into the room, looking about carefully.

Inside Jarik's paw, when he opens it, is a silver coin – one-fifth of his purchase price.

The maid sighs. "Well, if you must… " A pretty skunk maid follows the truly lovely poodle Alyssa into the infirmary. She carries a fan which she uses to shoo away the germs that she envisions trying to pounce her lady.

Rubadan looks about but sees no Tirro. "Hmf. The scoundrel must have snuck away. Well, no matter." He turns to leave, stopping to gesture a Star-blessing toward Alyssa. "May the Sifras watch over you, Lady."

The borzhoi priest departs.

Alyssa turns to her maid and murmurs softly… "Stay here." She smiles and curtseys to Rubadan. "And to you."

Jarik coughs, "Uh, seems I'm becoming popular… "

The maid waits but looks distressed. "Really, Lady do Verani, you should take care… I'll have the others prepare a good long bath for you, you wouldn't want to catch something here."

Alyssa mutters after the priest… "What a dog." She frowns one last time at the maid… "Really, Milly, I will be fine." As she reaches Jarik's bedside, she is all smiles.

Jarik sniffs the air, "Lady Alyssa?"

Alyssa says softly… "Yes, sir Jarik." There is a scraping sound as she pulls up a chair.

Jarik chuckles, "I thought I recognized the perfume… "

Alyssa says, "How are you feeling?"

Jarik takes a few breaths, "Oh, been worse… Once or twice mind you, but worse. I probably look terrible… How are you?"

Alyssa takes a breath. "I… I am fine. And you don't look terrible, just tired."

Jarik uuughs, "I made the mistake of trying to use my magic."

Jarik says, "It was… exhausting."

Alyssa starts to reach toward Jarik, but withdraws her hand quickly. "I… I didn't know you… had magic."

Jarik tries to nod, "I do… did… not sure anymore. I can still draw it… It doesn't work right here… "

Alyssa says quietly… "Ooo… I see… "

Jarik looks at Alyssa, "Now… where did you learn how to use a knife?"

Alyssa blinks… "A knife? Oh, you mean that little thing I carry in my handbag?"

Jarik nods, "Yes… that."

Alyssa laughs softly… "I see there's no use trying to fool you any longer, sir Jarik, by playing innocent."

Jarik sorta smiles, "I have an insatiable curiousity."

Alyssa waves her hand vaguely… "Oh, you know, one picks these things up here and there."

Jarik eyes Alyssa, "M'lady… it's not suitible for the daughter of a noble to be so… secretive… "

Alyssa eyes Jarik, trying to formulate a reply.

Jarik says, "I've rarely met a noble, or child of one who could knifefight, M'lady."

Alyssa laughs softly. "Allright, I give. I have seven brothers, sir Jarik. I learned what they learned. I had to, to survive."

Jarik chuckles, "Now, that makes sense."

Alyssa says, "You were surprised, I take it?"

Jarik says, "Quite M'lady."

Alyssa hmms. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to surprise you. Just rescue you."

Jarik says, "S'alright M'lady. I do appreciate it. How did you find me?"

Alyssa says, "The merchant… umm… the one who's stuff I broke… what's his name… "

Alyssa says, "Honest Yakah, or somesuch… anyway… he knew where you had gone."

Jarik blinks, "He told you?"

Alyssa's eyes twinkle… "Eventually. After I… um… accidently tripped."

Jarik chuckles, "I see."

upright, "Well, good news is… I know where my sword is."

Alyssa shudders… "What an awful place it was too." She hmm? "You do? Tell me all about it."

Jarik says, "It's in the posession of someone called 'the Glove'."

Alyssa's eyes narrow. "The Glove? What a… strange… name. Who told you? That nasty little thief? You know, he stole one of my bracelets! At least… I think he did."

Jarik says, "I'm not sure how I'm going to recover it… I don't have much money."

Jarik rubs his shoulder, "He's not as bad as he seems… He's trying to live."

Alyssa sniffs with disdain. "So are the Zelly-bugs and you don't see me defending them, do you?"

Jarik chuckles, "Knights are… just like that sometimes."

Alyssa relents… "Well… allright. So… how do we… uh… you… plan on getting your sword back?"

Jarik thinks for a moment, "Achoo? Ach my head? Achimed! That was his name… "

Alyssa repeats… "Achimed the Glove."^

Jarik says, "Well… in a few days. When I'm a little better, I plan to go down there and try to barter for it."

Alyssa tilts her head… "Barter?"

Jarik nods, "Haggle a deal to get it… "

Alyssa blinks… "That never occurred to me. Interesting concept… barter."

Jarik says, "Rarely are prices fixed… I hope to trade for it."

Alyssa nods and sighs softly. "You seem… like you know what you are doing."

Jarik thinks, "I have some money… this chitin sword, hrm."

Jarik looks at Alyssa, "Sighing M'lady?"

Alyssa hmms, looking up. "No, not me. It was the patient in the next bed."

Jarik nods… "You're welcome to come along M'lady… who knows, _I_ may need a champion." He winks.

Alyssa laughs softly. "I'm not much of a champion, I'm afraid, sir Jarik."

Jarik says, "Or… perhaps you and Ben could go there for me?"

Alyssa blinks… "I… yes… I think I can locate Ben again."

Jarik says, "I could give you the items I'm willing to trade for it."

Alyssa smiles, shaking her head… "That is not necessary, sir Jarik."

Jarik coughs, "M'lady… I can't let you pay for it."

Alyssa says, "Of course not… but there is no purpose to giving me the money until we are sure the sword is where we think it is. Then, when we know the sword is where we think it is… we… err… what was that … barter? for it.""

Jarik nods again, "Barter."

Alyssa nods… "Barter." She smiles… "So, we have a plan." She looks unsure… "This plan… isn't going to involve bad smelly places, is it?"

Jarik thinks, "I don't know. Just… be careful, okay?"

Alyssa's voice is a bit shaky… "I… I will try."

Jarik nods, "If anything looks dangerous. Forget it. I'll go there when I'm better."

Alyssa says, "I can handle myself, sir Jarik, never you fear."

Alyssa doesn't sound so sure as she repeats… "I can… handle… myself."

Jarik nods again, "Just, be careful okay? I've few friends. I'd like to keep them… "

Alyssa says, "I'll be careful… it's my fault you lost your sword and I'm going to help you get it back."

Jarik takes a deep breath, "Now M'lady… I think I need to rest some more. Please visit from time to time if you want… And watch your back here… there's something foul going on in the temple."

Alyssa's eyes are hurt. She jumps up… and promptly trips over her chair. "I… oof… oh… goodness… uh… Goodbye."

Jarik blinks, "You alright M'lady?"

Alyssa stumbles, knocking into the next bed over. "Yes… ooof… you take care now, hear?"

Jarik nods to Alyssa, "You too M'lady."

Alyssa turns and flees, ripping her gown on Jarik's bed. Something that sounds like a muffled sob floats back.

A shadow seems to detach from the shadows around it. A vaguely ferret-shaped shadow turns a corner and – like all shadows – makes no sound. Or perhaps, it was never there?

Milly gives Jarik a look that could freeze lava. "Commoner!" she says. "Milady, let's go back home now. This is no place for you."

Jarik slides back under his covers. The fox hears the sob and winces, "No… first Azhtar, now Alyssa… why… why me?" he wraps his covers around his body tightly. This time, it is Jarik who sobs.

Alyssa brushes tears away… "Yes, I think you're right." She turns and leaves, leaving a green scarf floating to the floor behind her.