Guests of the de Medicis mill about on the deck. A string quartet of musicians plays on a raised dais, while nearby an illusionist performs her part of the three-shift entertainment for this party cruise. Belle is her name, and she is adorned with many trinkets that make her sound like a pun of her own name every time she moves. Like the rest of the illusionists, she wears a concealing black robe and a veiled hood that hides her face from prying eyes, adding that extra touch of mystery. In fact, it's hard to tell just what her species is.

Over by the buffet line, a young noble poodle loads up his plate precariously, as if he were afraid he wouldn't be allowed a second trip through the line. Several of his young hanger-on friends follow him along, only being present here because of his abuse of the "bring a friend" clause of the invitation … and because his father happens to be an Arch-Inquisitor.

His mother, a roly-poly looking poodle, sits on a chair across the way, knitting socks that look no bigger than what might fit a puppy. A younger female poodle – perhaps in her teens or early twenties – stands nearby, looking quite bored, occasionally throwing a look of disgust at the other poodle who is still at the buffet line.

The host of the party, Barcodamus de Medici – the Quartermaster Supreme – has as much girth as wealth, it is said, and sits on a large chair at one end of the deck, surrounded by lackeys and guards. His wife, the fetching (and much younger) Jena Rika, watches the passing sands of the Himaat with much more interest than they deserve. One of their Savanite slaves stands at her side – The slave is dressed as fashionably as any of the freemen, and could be mistaken for a noble if not for her race.

Belle elicits a few gasps from the audience as she produces a few flower blossoms from the sleeve of her robe, then casts them up into the air. They hover there for a moment, then grow in size, becoming less solid as they do so. The ghostly flowers, each a different color, spin and twirl about as if dancing upon the wind, some swooping down and prompting some of the guests to duck or dodge. One flies right through the face of a poodle pup who giggles and squeals as it sails on past – Obviously he's none the worse for the wear. The phantasmal flowers slowly fade away as they fly off from the deck of the airship and toward the sea of sand far below.

Over in the buffet line, one of the guest illusionists waits quietly in line behind the young poodle noble and his entourage. The hood of the robe moves slightly now and then as its wearer looks around the buffet table – and at the noble in particular – taking care not to make it look like he is actually staring too much.

The popular poodle reaches for a confection, but is stopped by one of the cooks. The poodle casts the Savanite servant an angry glare. "How dare you!"

One of the poodle's companions looks at the label beside the confection, partially obscured by a splash of gelatin from a sloppy guest. "Eustace … that's got pala-fruit cream! You'll break out in hives if you eat that!"

Part of the black robed figure's hood twitches a little, as an ear perks underneath. Other than that, the figure shows no sign of paying attention to the poodle.

Eustace growls, then releases the hand of the Savanite. "Okay, okay. But not so loud. I HATE allergies. Inherited them from Dear Daddy." He casts a longing glance at the forbidden confection, then heads further down the line.

The shrouded figure moves along with the line, picking pieces off the table with a black-gloved hand and placing them onto his plate. He also picks up a piece of that confectionary, and puts it on his plate as well.

Belle's performance continues, about halfway through now, assuming she's sticking to her practice schedule. Now, she's plucking flowers from the oddest places – out of hair, out of ears, and one out of the nose of a surprised-looking Vykarin guard.

Finishing for the moment at the buffet, the cloaked figure moves across the deck, looking like he is circulating and being social, yet he does not speak to anyone.

The Savanite cook who had stopped Eustace from grabbing the confection returns to refilling the pans set out, and taking away some food that has been sitting out too long. One of the servants casts Eustace a baleful look … but quickly hides it.

The black mage on the deck continues to wander through the crowd, occasionally pausing by a few people as if to listen, then moves on after taking something from the plate and nibbling on it under the veil.

The roly-poly lady poodle chuckles in the middle of knitting a sock. "Ah, Candice, I DO wish you would circulate a bit more. So many handsome young Gallees here on the ship! And I just don't know WHY you don't hit it off well with any of your little brother's friends. Oh! My little Eustace, grown up so big now! Why, I remember when he was just a newborn pup … naked as a Gooshurm, with hardly enough fuzz on him to even cover a peach!"

The younger lady poodle, evidently Candice, blanches at her mother's reminisce. "MOTH-errrr! Not THAT again! I tell you, it makes me want to PU – " She stops in mid-sentence as she sees the black-veiled mage go by. "Hmm. He's a mysterious one. I don't think he's performed yet, has he, Mother?"

The dark-cloaked mage pauses as he passes by the lady poodles, turns and bows shallowly, and then moves on.

"Eustace? Mysterious? Hardly! Why, he's as honest and upright as they come!" the matronly poodle says, giving the dark-cloaked mage a head-nod in acknowledgement. "Ooo! I think that mage must like you! Run along, dear, and maybe you can catch him, Candice. Find out if he's a Gallee first, though. But a mage is always a good catch."

Off the deck, a black ship can be seen sailing along in roughly the same direction as the True Calling, though at a fair distance. It flies no flag or emblem, and several of the guards are keeping a close watch on it.

The True Calling subtly alters course, taking it a bit further away from the black ship. Far below, sand is kicked up in clouds by three sand-triremes sailing across the Sea of Sand. Their sails are a patchwork of brightly-colored fabrics, having no unified pattern or emblem to display.

The black robed mage wanders over to the side of the ship, and appears to be looking out at the landscape below. Of course, since no-one can see his eyes, this just seems like what he, or she, might be doing.

The landscape consists of lots and lots of sand. And more of it.

A Savanite slave shuffles by, carrying a heavy bundle wrapped in cloth. His ears flick once, and another Savanite nods at him. They both head off to the stairs that lead belowdecks.

While watching the world pass below, the mage finishes the items on his plate – all except for the bit of confectionary. With that, the mage wraps it in what looks like a handkerchief, and surreptitiously puts it into his or her robe somewhere. After this, the mage walks back over to near the buffet table, looking for somewhere to discard the plate.

A hand taps the mysterious mage on the shoulder. "Hello there, Mage," says Candice. "I recommend the Kyootcumber salsa, myself, with some crispies. Only if you have something to drink with it, of course. Care for a drink?"

The black cloaked figure turns around, pausing for a moment before nodding.

The lady poodle extends a hand. "Candice do Varr," she says, putting special emphasis on the last name so that her parentage is clear. "And you are … ?"

The mage maintains his silence, and puts a gloved hand into a black bag (which can barely be seen against the robe), and pulls out a clear, crystal orb from it.

The orb is filled with a myriad of crystalline facets, and a faint, musical melody can be heard eminating from somewhere within its depths, muted and quiet.

The mage holds up the sphere in one hand between thumb and index finger, letting the lady poodle see it clearly. The black-gloved hand slowly moves the orb in front of the poodle's eyes, letting her follow it, before the mage grabs it with both hands.

The sound of the orb being crushed is heard, and the mage then opens his hands, palms up, where the remains of the orb can be seen.

Sparkling motes of dust rise from the cracked orb, then grow in size, forming into what look like sparkling gems that twinkle and tinkle audibly. As the sparkles swirl about the mage, the music builds and crescendoes, soon forming a symphonic, ethereal sound that dominates the entire deck. The string quartet is soon overpowered by the song, and they set down their instruments at the competition. Belle stops her performance, putting her hands at her sides. As for the mage … he is seemingly lost within the maelstrom of dazzle and music!

Candice is overwhelmed by the distraction, and seems to have completely forgotten about the mage. She giggles in delight, reaching out to try to touch the dancing crystals, but they shy away from her fingers.

The mage also raises a finger, as if to re-affirm "look, but do not touch".

Candice quickly pulls her fingers away from the lights, biting on her fingerclaw impishly, as if she were just chastised by a parent for touching fine crystal in a shop.

The black cloaked figure keeps his hands held out for Candice to see the still-chiming crystal pieces – at a safe distance from her.

Candice's eyes are filled with reflections of the magical baubles, and her expression says "Gimme!" She restrains herself from grabbing at them anymore, though.

The silent mage considers the demand for a moment, and lets a few of the shards fall into the poodle's outstetched hands.

Candice giggles delightedly as she regards the twinkling shards in her hands, which seem to be there, and yet not there … and more so the latter, as they slowly dissolve. Despite this, she still laughs, holding up her now empty hands and wiggling the fingers. There are a few sparkly bits on them, as if someone had dumped a handful of glitter on them.

As the shards in the mage's gloved hands dissolve also, he brings his hands down to his sides, and they disappear in the folds of his cloak. The mage then bows his head a little to his audience.

The music and dazzling lights slowly fade away. As they do, the mage is met with applause. Belle still has her hands at her hips, though. The string quartet picks up again, this time carrying on a melody that sounds like a variant on the one the magical orb was playing.

The mage pauses for a moment, then turns away with the intention to head back into the crowd.

Belle's veiled muzzle follows Francisco's movements, and then she shrugs and goes back into her act again. More flowers materialize for the pleasure of the audience. Candice is distracted, and then belatedly remarks to someone nearby, "I never got his name!"

Meanwhile, the mysterious mage is continuing to wander the decks, ears pricked under the hood to listen to conversations as he passes by other nobles.

A few reptilians make their way through the crowd. "Pardon me. Make way! Excuse me."

A couple of Savanite servants walk over toward Jena Rika and her slave, Zorah. They bow to Zorah. Zorah looks quite confused, and Jena Rika looks scandalized by the gesture.

Pausing where he stands on the deck, the mage watches as this exchange take place.

Shrieks and screams can be heard, and the clash of chitin against chitin. Several slaves throw aside 'sand cloaks' to reveal weapons underneath! Several reptilians do as well, pulling out concealed flintlocks and crossbows. The guards scramble for their weapons!

Still, the silent black figure holds his position, watching curiously but not getting involved.

Several of the guards go down before they have a chance to join the fray. The Savanites and Jingai attack, cutting down guards, and grabbing passengers. The scene soon dissolves into chaos, the open space of the deck not offering so much in the way of a safe place to stand aloof.

Eustace shrieks, dodging a chitin blade being swung at him. "Hey! I'm a NOBLE! You can't KILL me!" He runs in a path that takes him in the direction of the mysterious robed mage.

The mage sidesteps out of the path of the oncoming poodle so as not to get knocked over.

The mage deftly avoids the running poodle and his Jingai pursuer – a lizard with big googly eyes, and a wicked-looking obsidian-bladed weapon.

"Resssissstance is futile!" hisses a blue-scaled Naga, with a white diamond-backed pattern visible now that he has thrown off his cloak. He wears a yellow vest with black spots on it – It doesn't appear to be authentic Savanite fur. He waves a sword around and says, "The City of Handsss demandsss BLOOD from thossse who have oppressssed itsss people! The new Empire ssshall be reborn!"

The mage remains where he is for the moment, certainly not offering any resistance. Unsure of what is still to happen, he decides it is better to wait in silence than provoke the hijackers.

A Savanite slave grabs the quiet mage by the arm, and roughly shoves him in an apparently random direction. More screams and yelps continue, as guards are cut down, and a few of the servants and guests as well. So far, nobody has made to strike the mage. Yet.

As he is pushed along, the mage exaggerates his movements slightly, ruffling his cloak so that the bag that contained the orb he showed Candice slips inside the clothing.

Suddenly, the mage is grabbed from behind. "Mage! Please! HELP ME!" It's the sound of a poodle. A young male poodle. A young male noble poodle who likes to flush foxes. "They're going to KILL me! Help!"

The black figure whirls around to face the poodle (not that the poodle can see the mage's face) and lifts a single gloved finger to his veiled muzzle in a "be quiet" gesture.

The poodle stops yapping, obviously taken aback. The Savanite gives the mage a curious look, and guardedly brings about his dagger.

Turning to look at the Savanite with the dagger, the mage puts his hand down and just nods once to him.

The Savanite gives the mage an angry look. His ears twitch once.

"Bah hah! That's the idea, you lazy good-for-nothings! Just sit down and RELAX, and it'll be just FINE!" one of the lizards laughs.

The black robed figure remains still, not attempting anything further that might be seen as provocation.

The mage and the poodle are drug along, and brought before the blue-scaled Naga. "All right! Now, to ssshow that we're ssseriousss, we're going to demonssstrate what happensss if any of you resssissst!" He looks to the poodle and the mage. "Aha! YOU two! Up there!" He points to a gangplank that has been rolled out into its extended position. There's no ship or dock on the other side, though. "You're going to walk the PLANK! Hahahahaha!"

The poodle and mage are forcibly urged in the direction of the gangplank. It looks like a really really long drop on the other side. The air yacht must have gained altitude. Of course, it was really really far BEFORE, too.

Making use of his one hand that is still unseen and inside his cloak, the reaches into the bag of orbs, and pulls one out quickly. This time, he doesn't use any pomp and ceremony, pulling his hand out of his cloak and throwing it at the deck…

Instead of one orb coming out, in the confusion, a second one pulls free as well. Both of them fall free and shatter upon impact with the deck. One cloudy orb … one smoky orb. The cloudy orb lands at the feet of the black mage. The smoky orb lands just underneath the Savanite. Wispy trails burst outward from each of them, and the Savanite pauses to look dumbly at his own toes.

The poodle, startled with fear, grabs onto the mage's back. He yelps loudly.

In the misty darkness, the mage hisses at the poodle, but low enough so the surrounding hijackers should not be able to hear, "Quiet," and much against his better judgement, grabs the poodle's wrist and attempts to make his way off the deck – such that they do not have to deal with a large drop.

That's where things get curious. As the mage takes a step, he feels the deck sinking beneath him … and the poodle lets out yet another startled yelp. In a moment, the smoke clears enough, so that he can see that he is now floating in the air, above and to one side of the deck, with a frightened poodle hanging onto him for dear life!

If this is a spell from the sphere of ILLUSION, it's a mightily potent one!

As the mage hovers in the air, the poodle clutching to his robes, he can see a few possibilities of where to go while the spell still lasts. He could go back to the ship … and risk his neck there once the brigands grab him. Or, he could float down to the ground, and take his chances in the Sea of Sand. Or … Hey! There's another airship coming, approaching the True Calling! It flies the symbol of the Nagai Empire! What's it doing this far north?

Eustace makes a pathetic whimper.

This airship is not the black ship that Francisco saw earlier, but an entirely different one that must have approached during the confusion on the deck. Snakes can be seen, as well as spotted slaves. One of them raises a bullhorn to his mouth and, in a loud voice, hisses, "Terrorissstsss! Put down your weaponsss immediately! There isss no hope for essscape! We have been tipped off to your plansss! Sssurrender at oncsse!"

The first two options really do not seem all that appealing to the floating conjuror. In fact, the third doesn't either, since the mage has no idea how long this spell will last. However, they seem to be more on the side of friendly than the hijackers, which clinches the decision for him."

As he found with the orb of music, the mage finds he has a modicum of control over his flight too, and through concentrating (made hard by the whimpering poodle hanging on, thankfully without his own 'hangers-on') manages to steer both of them towards the Nagai vessel.

With some effort – and a bit of a gut-wrenching sensation as the mage can feel the spell starting to evaporate a few feet out from the Nagai vessel – the mage manages to reach the deck, and skillfully alight down. The poodle, clutching his leg, lands face-first on the deck. He immediately scrambles over and starts kissing the mage's feet. "Oh! Thank you! THANK YOU! You saved me! I owe you my LIFE!"

The mage looks down at the poodle, and manages to give him an unimpressed look even through the veil. However, he shows still no sign of acknowledging the 'praise', and less signs of who he might be.

The two airships close together, and as they do, a few snake warriors go over, and do battle with the cheetahs on the other side. There is a bloody exchange, but the Jingai among the terrorists don't put up much of a fight, and surrender. The remainder of the Savanites surrender as well. It all ends rather quickly, and the Nagai crew starts bringing prisoners over.

The prisoners are dragged past – or, really, walked past, most of them. They seem to be rather cooperative. Nagai terrorists must be fairly easy going, as far as terrorists go. A tall cheetah – Zorah, the pampered slave of Jena Rika and the Quartermaster Supreme – is among those taken past. She is not so cooperative, her eyes wild with fear.

A Nagai warrior looks at the mage and says, "You! You're from the other ssship! Guardsss! Essscort thessse guessstsss back to their ssship." To the mage again, the Naga says, "It'sss all over now. Thisss ssslave," he gestures to Zorah, "wasss the ringleader. Sssso clossse to the Quartermassster Sssupreme!"

It looks like the way is clear for the mage (and his hanger-on) to return back to the True Calling, without benefit or need of magic.

"Back to Nagai City!" calls out a Jingai crewmember of the Nagai vessel. The airship looks as if it's ready to start pulling away from the air yacht.

The mage merely nods in acknowlegement to the warrior, and without waiting for the poodle, heads back towards the True Calling.

The poodle tags along, and loudly proclaims to all gathered on the deck that the mage has saved his noble skin. The mage's paw is shaken several times, and the Arch-Inquisitor do Varr gives him a solemn nod. Maybe this willmean bonus pay. In the meantime, the Nagai airship pulls away, sailing off, and the yacht is turning about to head straight back to Rephidim.

The robed mage nods back to the Arch-Inquisitor, and then decides to head below-decks for the rest of the voyage home. He could reveal himself now, but decides to hold off on that. Besides, there is still a lot more that a Kitsune could find out about the son of do Varr on the way home… "