A Khatta with a nigh-impossibly-long tail is escorted to the gate by a pair of Jupani Temple Guardsmen, accompanied by a winged alien. One of the Guards mutters, "You got off lucky for sure, pal. Stripping, robbing and feeding a store-owner into some blasted machine right in front of the Guard. But 'Tee-hee' is hard to put down as pressing charges… "

The second Jupani comments, "Well, hey, the Lapi was LAUGHING about it. He obviously wasn't having any hard feelings about it, eh? … Eh?" He looks askance to the other Guard, but doesn't get any support.

Envoy finally asks, "Can I have some different Guards assigned to spy on me?"

The long-tailed Khatta smiles gracefully. "Yes, well… if you ask me, if mind power were money, I think poor old Lucky wouldn't have two shekels to rub together at the moment. He seemed to have something against that black-furred lad, what I can't imagine."

Jupani Number One looks sideways at Envoy and says, "It's not our place to discuss guard assignments, Citizen."

"Oh," comments the Exile.

The Guards at the gate open it, allowing passage, though Galand's escort stays on the court side. It would seem that Galand is free to leave the Temple grounds and continue on his merry way.

A raccoon in goofy looking mage's robes sits perched atop a brightly colored rock… well, it might be mistaken for a rock were it not for the fact that it happens to be drooling on the steps of the Temple. He seems to be trying to devour a large pile of sandwiches sitting in his lap.

Galand steps through the gate, then turns and bows gracefully, tail swirling about him. "And a good evening to you, my dear fellows. The food was bad, the hospitality was only slightly better, but all in all, I do say I had a fun time." He grins at Jupani Two. "And my boy, I must say you need to work on your sab'hak face. A less scrupulous Khatta would've taken you for all you were worth."

Envoy brightens when she spots the familiar blob on the steps. "Fenter!!" She starts heading towards the Rath'ani and Vykarin.

The Rath'ani, in this case, would be a somewhat frumpy-looking raccoonoid. The Vykarin would be the large shelled creature that is … well … somewhat lupine-armadilloid-lobsterish-kangarooish-horseyish.

The lupine aspect seems to win out, by and large, in the Vykarin's disposition, as demonstrated by his slobbery tongue, and thwapping (if segmented) tail.

Galand blinks after Envoy, wondering what all the excitement's about as he leaves the Temple Gate behind him.

Fenter turns around upon hearing his name and spies Envoy, he attempts to move and manages instead to go tumbling off the back of the Vykarin! There's a muffled *YELP!*, a shower of sandwiches, and a hollow sounding thunk as raccoon impacts pavement.

The Vykarin grins happily … and goes after the sandwiches! Oh, the carnage!

Fenter watches the pretty clouds…

The sandwiches dispatched, the Vykarin at last gives Fenter a worried look (and whine), and licks the raccoon's face while making rumbling "rrrr?" noises.

The Exile dodges the Vykarin's tail in order to get next to Fenter. "You're alive! How was your expedition? Is this your Vykarin? Did your eyes just change color?"

"Oogh, I think I got a mandible stuck up my nose. Or some bug appendage, I really should study up more on – ACK!!!" Fenter swats at the licking Vykarin and tries to stagger to his feet.

The Vykarin takes the swatting as a cue that Fenter is not to be licked – for now – and instead sniffs at Envoy's feet, his thick segmented tail swaying back and forth.

Galand sidles over and peruses the ground for a sandwich that hasn't been overly dirtied, trampled, or drooled upon…

Envoy pats the Vykarin on its head while she waits for Fenter to regain his composure.

The Rath'ani's robes shimmer blue, with star-shaped and other mystical emblems of a silvery fabric. His attire is quite improved over his previous … ah … 'dress' …

Fenter sputters and wipes his face. "You shouldn't scare a chaos mage like that! It might make someone's head explode or do something odd." He brushes crumbs off his robe.

… but it's still Fenter in those robes, to be sure.

Galand lightly taps Envoy on the shoulder. "Pardon me, Miss… ?"

The Exile turns to look at Galand, "Yes?"

The raccoon attempts to regain his perch atop the Vykarin. "Oh dear… I've lost all of my lunch. I was really looking forward to that peanut-butter and gishgrub sandwich too."

The Vykarin moves on from Envoy, now sniffing at Galand and at the one slobber-free, unsquashed sandwich that the long-tailed Khatta managed to salvage.

The long-tailed Khatta smiles amiably and says, "I'm afraid I never caught your name, nor those of your friends… that being as it may, might I suggest we conduct introductions and further conversation elsewhere, away from yon monument to bureaucratic nonsense?"

Galand purrs, "I'm almost afraid to say that I'd like to see it as little as possible at the moment. If you'd all like to join me at the Three Thieves Inn, I have a regular table there that I am more than willing to share.

Envoy turns to Fenter, and asks, "What do you want to do Fenter? Should we go to the Inn?"

Fenter straightens himself up on the back of his riding mount. "Hmm… I could go for a little nip mister… er… " He looks the Khatta over. Oddly, his eyes shift from electric blue to neon green as he does so… or maybe it was just a trick of the light. "In fact, if you could perhaps be persuaded to buy a drink for me… I could provide you with a ride."

Galand blinks momentarily at the seeming color-change, and extends a hand. "The name's Galand… Ashur Galand. You can call me 'Ash.' And as for buying a drink, why I'm in a celebratory enough mood due to my timely release from the tender mercies of those two mor – errr, Guardsmen, that I'm willing to buy a round or three, yes… "

"Jolly good!" the raccoon exclaims. He staggers to his feet, balancing precariously on the Vykarin's back, "I'm Fenter, Fenter Nuttsenboltsen, alumnus of the College Esoterica and great Chaos mage. Um… you might want to plug your ears."

Envoy says, "I'm Envoy. Pleased to meet you, Mr. Galand."

The Vykarin wurfs something unintelligible that sounds like "Wurf!"

Galand blinks, momentarily confused… his ears do fold down a bit in reflex, though. "Um… why?"

Fenter takes in a great lungfull of air, and then lets it out in one big deafening ARRRRROOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!

The Vykarin Fenter is riding on joins in on the howl. All Guards (and several other persons) look toward the source of the noise.

Clapping her hands and bouncing on her feet, Envoy howls along too.

It is not long before some echoing howls can be heard from various directions … and then some shiny moving forms can be seen galloping through the sparse nighttime traffic in the streets, approaching.

"Wow!" the Exile exclaims. "You've got one of every color, Fenter!"

Galand's ears fold flat back, and the fur on the back of his neck rises…

"There we go, my loyal worshippers." Fenter beams, sliding back down into a sitting position. His tail merrily flicks back and forth. "I'm a Sky-God you know."

Galand, good old solid-hearted Ash Galand, appears right now to be more nervous than a newborn kit.

Several Vykarins gallop up, making canine sounds intermixed with clicking and popping, their thick segmented tails swaying back and forth.

Fenter frowns. "What? It's not like they;re going to bite you… you have too much hair… they prefer to eat hairless things. They'll drool on you if you want though."

Envoy blinks three times, then asks, "How do you get to be a Sky-God?"

The Khatta slowly untenses, and recovers his composure, attempting to conceal embarrassment behind his usual suave bravado. "Yes… of course, I knew that. Everyone knows that."

Envoy click-pop-wurfs a bit with the Vykarin Fenter is riding, asking for its name.

"I died, I'm quite sure I died at least… I can't say for sure since I can't seem to find anyone else who's died before." The raccoon turns to the crowd and makes a few pop-click-barking noises, gesturing towards Envoy and Galand.

A couple of the Vykarins lurch forward, one of them nearly bowling over Galand. However, the long-tailed Khatta's reflexes (and nervous disposition) prove to be ample to allow him to dodge to one side.

Envoy, however, is knocked off her feet, and – in a matter of an instant – is riding atop a golden-shelled Vykarin.

Galand blinks at Envoy. "Phrreeeeow… how'd you manage that one?"

Envoy blinks and looks around dizzily, "Huh?"

Galand glances at the Vykarin who nearly clobbered him and gestures with a finger. "C'mere, boy… I'm not gonna hurt ya… I just wanna ride ya… "

Fenter rubs his nose. "Shall we be off? Howling gives one quite a thirst."

"I didn't think there were this many Vykarins on Rephidim," Envoy calls across to Fenter.

The big cobalt-blue Vykarin nods to Galand … and then, in the same movement, lurches forward again. This time, the Khatta hasn't a chance to react … and is on the back of the Vykarin, facing the creature's swaying tail.

Galand winces, grimacing slightly. "Ooog."

The blue Vykarin sniffs at the extra-long tail in front of his face … and opens his toothy maw…

Fenter patpats his own mount's shell. "C'mon boys… to the Three Thieves, I'm sure that we can find some vermites or some other nice rotting thing for you to chew on."

*GUMPH* The Vykarin's mouth clamps down around the tail, getting a firm hold. With that … the Vykarin gallops forward! So does the golden one. The rest slobber a bit on Fenter, then disperse.

The Khatta's eyes snap wide open, and he lets out a howl that, albeit feline, quite resembles the one let off earlier by Fenter and company… "MRRRRRYYYYYYYEEEEEEOOOOOWWWWWWWWWWWWOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!"

"Ohhh!" squeals the 'coon as he rides along after the two. "We're sure to get there in half the time with that nice siren noise. Smart thinking, Mister Ash!"

The Vykarin mounts gallop through the streets of Rephidim, under Fenter's wurfing guidance, approaching the Three Thieves' Inn. At last, they click-clop to a stop in front of the establishment, panting heavily. It would seem that this is a fairly quick means of transport through the city … at night, anyway.

Fenter slides down from his mount and shakes himself off. "Ahhh… nothing like a brisk ride through Rephidim to make the Vykarin drool dry off one's fur really quick!"

Galand dismounts, trying to convince his ride to let go of his tail.

The blue Vykarin makes a growling noise, still holding the tail firmly in mouth.

Envoy falls off her mount, and joins Fenter and Galand at the doorway.

Okay, so this wonder mode of transportation has its drawbacks…

Galand looks at Fenter. "Mind asking Choppers here to let go?"

'Choppers' says, "Rrrrrrr!" His tail still sways back and forth, though.

Which end to believe?

The Raccoon walks over to 'Choppers', "Heel!"

The Vykarin, tail still in mouth, looks to the Raccoon. "Rrrr?"

"This nice gentleman is going to buy us a drink." Fenter gives Galand a pat on the back. "He might not be so inclined if you cause him bodily harm… it can be very distracting. Would you mind letting the fellow go?"

From out of the darkness, a voice eerily drifts, full of mirthless laughter. "Bwahahahahahahahahahaaaa!"

Envoy perks an ear towards the odd laugh.

The Vykarin's tail wags at Fenter's words. He opens his mouth for just a bit, tongue lolling at the Raccoon.

Fenter closes his eyes. "Oh… drat… "

Galand's ear twitches as he yanks his tail out of the Vykarin's mouth, twisting it to try to get the kinks out.

The Vykarin lets out an annoyed grrrr … but doesn't go after Galand's tail again. The golden Vykarin seems to have spotted a vermite skittering away … and the other two notice as well. Soon, all three are bouncing along, making quite a ruckuss, chasing after a small cluster of screeching vermites.

Envoy asks, "Is something wrong Fenter?"

A tall, winged, elongated humanoid form slides out of the shadows of the alley beside the Three Thieves Inn, the darkness clinging stubbornly to his caped form, his eyes glowing red like burning embers, the ambient light glinting off of a pair of very sharp, protruding fangs.

The raccoon folds his arms behind his back and turns to address a darkened section of the street. "Couldn't this wait until after I've had my drink? Pleeeeeeeese?

Galand frowns, looking at Envoy. "What's with your friend there?"

There is a grumbling noise from the shadowy form, and then a rumbling voice replies, "My conquetht of the wuhld thall not wait for a mewe conthumption of an intoxicating bevewage."

Envoy blinks three times at the figure, then turns to Galand and says, "Well, we're with him… "

"But the world would be such a happier place, then! Well, I'd be happier at least… " Fenter continues looking around at the shadows, finally spying the shadowy form. "How was your vacation, by the way?"

"Aha!" cries out the dark bat. "My ahch-nemethith hath MINIONTH! But they awe no match fow my ahmy of dawkneth! And the natuwe of my twavewth awe none of youw buthineth, mewe mowtal!"

Galand turns his head slowly towards Envoy, and asks clearly, "And our being with him is suddenly a problem?"

The Exile shrugs. "I don't know. I'm not a mere mortal."

Fenter harumphs. "They're not my minions, they're my worshippers. I'm a sky-god, you know." He casts a glance back at Galand at Envoy, "This is Wyckyd… he wants to take over the world. You should introduce yourselves to him, it would only be proper afterall."

The Khatta rolls his eyes. "Then why don't you use your godlike powers… and get us outta this?"

"Wowthippews?" The dark bat grins wickedly. "Pwove it. I want to thee them gwovew."

Galand sighs and turns toward the shadowy shape. "Evening, sir… I am Ashur Galand, gambler and businessman extraordinaire… "

Envoy waves to the toothy bat, "Hello, I'm Envoy, an Exile."

"I would… but they're busy chasing your minions around right now. I'm sure they would be most pleased to drool on you when they're done though." The raccoon's tail flicks back and forth. "It's a sign of respect in their culture, you know."

The dark bat nods to Envoy and Galand, then, to Fenter, he rumbles – gesturing to Envoy and Galand with a sweep of his hand – "Thethe awen't chathing my minionth, though."

Fenter shrugs to Galand, "Sorry, I'm still new to this god thing. It's not something you learn overnight afterall, I can only do the eyeball thing right now." He blinks at the bat's words, shuffles his feet and then says to the Khatta and the exile, "Er… would you mind groveling a little for Mister Wyckyd? It would make him very happy."

"What's groveling?" Envoy predictably asks.

Galand fixes Fenter with a stare that could probably freeze a fire-mage's fur off.

The raccoon rubs his chin. "You know… that's a good question. Oh Mister Wyyyyckyd? How exactly does one grovel?"

Fenter shrinks down a little under Galand's eyes. "It was… er… just a suggestion."

"BAH! Thome deity you awe, if youw wowthippewth don't even know how to gwovew!" the dark bat says with a dismissive sweep of his wing.

Envoy whispers to Galand, "Do you think he's a Babelite infiltrator? Why else would he keep talking about warships?"

"Now then," says the bat, "I have come with a methage of youw impending DOOM, Fentew! I have a Mathter Pwan for taking ovew the WOWHD!"

Galand recovers smoothly. "Well, Mr. Wyckyd… y'see, I'm sort of new to this whole Sky-God-Worshipping-And-Grovelling thing… it's my first night on the job, you see… as for Miss Envoy here, she signed on about the same time I did, so I believe that we should be allowed a minor bit of slack in that department."

"… and I am not going to teww you what it ith," adds the red-eyed Eeee.

"HMPH. Amateuwth," remarks the bat.

Envoy smiles at the batty Eeee, "Will you tell me then?"

"Well THESE two aren't my worshippers. They're atheists, it's the little lobster-Jupani fellows that… erk?" Fenter's eyes change from bright green to a confused looking purple. "Oh goody! Does this mean I get to guess?"

"You may gueth, if you like," the bat nods. "But it won't do you any good, of couwthe."

Envoy taps Fenter's shoulder, and says, "I don't think you should guess. What if he really doesn't have a plan at all and is just hoping you'll suggest a good one for him?"

The dark bat frowns severely at Envoy.

Fenter rubs his chin. "Lessee – you're… um… going to tunnel into the mountain in Rephidim, attach rollers to the bottom and slide it sideways and make the island unbalanced and dump everyone over?"

The dark bat shakes his head. "Of couwthe not! Cweative, but quite impothible. Twy again, if you awe bwave enough to dawe."

Galand hmms, twirling a whisker idly as he thinks…

The Chaos-mage swats at Envoy's hand. "Fiddlesticks. If he does something that I suggest then I get creative dibs on it and I get to rule the world instead of him if it works. It's in the rules."

Envoy blinks again. Rules are something she's familiar with. "What are the rules for taking over the world?"

The dark bat snorts, tapping his foot impatiently. "Thewe awe no thuch wuweth. I am the embodiment of EVIW! I obey no WUWETH! Though thewe awe thome thuggethted guidelineth in owdew to do it wight."

The dark bat holds up one finger. "Fiwtht, you need loyal minionth. I have plenty."

"You're… hmm… " Fenter taps his foot. "You're going to trap every Shelwhal on Sinai and corner the market on Ambergris, thus making every lovesick man have to come to you for gifts and therefore giving you the power to rule the world?"

The dark bat sighs, murmuring, "Ah … Ambewgwith… "

Galand smiles. "Are you a chaotic evil, a violent evil, a sort of brooding evil, or the sort of evil that makes one want to stick one's head and various body parts in a pool of acid?"

The dark bat nods to Galand. "I am a vewy wefined thowt of eviw. A womantic sowt. The wadieth go for the thinithter vampiwe type."

Fenter says, "Ew… that sounds unplesant. I'd rather be a more cute and cuddlier kind of evil."

Galand frowns slightly, trying to decode around the lisp…

"You could at least give me a HINT you know." Fenter puts his hands on his hips indignantly. "Isn't it in the rules that you villains always have to give the arch-nemesis a hint so we can foil your plot? I'd give you a hint if you were in my shoes!"

"Thecond," the dark bat remarks, "you need to have an awch-nemethith. Fentew ith the betht I can do tho faw. He'th vewy good at it, actuawwy. Don't be foowed by hith clumthy mannewithmth. Hidden under that fathade of theew thupidity ith a keen and cunning intellect."

The dark bat gives Fenter an annoyed look. "THITH time, letting you know that I am up to no good thouwd be thufficient wawning enough. I mutht maintain thome ewement of thecwethy ow I will tip my hand all at onthe. And that would thpoil it all."

Fenter squeals happily. "Ohhh! So you're going to give me little hints at a time? Like a jolly good scavenger hunt! What fun!"

Envoy says, "What is Ambergris?"

"Shelwhal barf." Fenter replies helpfully. "It makes a lovely perfume… tastes terrible though."

"It ith NOT fun!" rumbles the dark bat. "Thith ith vewy thewiouth buthineth! Aw Thinai will quake in feaw at my might! Childwen'th headth will implode upon mewe mention of my name!" He pauses, then adds, "I picked up that one fwom an Exthile. Good, yeth?"

Envoy frowns, "Why would you want their heads to implode?"

Galand blinks at the dark bat. "Erm… right… you don't get out much, do you?"

The dark bat nods at Fenter's explanation, then adds, "But, actually, thelwalth awe mythical. I won't tell you whewe they WEALLY get ambewgwith fwom."

The bat ignores Galand pointedly, then looks to Envoy and says, "It'th the thought that counth."

"Then why don't you just think about taking over the world?" Envoy asks. "Wouldn't that be much easier?"

"Shelwhals are MYTHICAL?!?!?!" Fenter whines. "Waaahhh… why;d you have to go and tell me that." he sniffs. "I feel like I did when mum said there was no santa-kavi and his twelve vermites. Hmph… go an ruin my dreams."

Galand nods in agreement with Envoy. "Yes… they say belief is halfway to making it happen."

"Bwahahahahaaa!" says the dark bat. "I thall THATTEW youw petty dweamth! Fow I am the embodiment of EVIW!"

Fenter pouts. "I believe in Shelwhals… so nyaah!"

The raccoon creaks open an eye. "Is that how you plan to take over the world? Hah! Guessed it! Neener neener neener!"

Envoy adds, "I've seen some pretty color-changing sea monsters that shoot out poisonous goop. Are those Shelwhals?"

"No, thelwhalth are mythical. That meanth they do not exitht," the dark bat patiently explains.

"Sounds like some of my relatives." Fenter adds.

A felinoid voice mutters, "Like some other things around here I could mention… "

Fenter coughs. "Anyhow… about this great plot to take over the world?"

The dark bat laughs for no apparent reason. Well, maybe someone could, with a bit of imagination, invent some reason. But, in any case, he swirls his cloak about himself, peering over the edge with his glowing red eyes. "You will nevew thwawt me! Not thith time, anyway! You awe DOOMED! DOOMED, I thay! BWAHAHAHAHHAAHAAAAaaaaa!"

Envoy asks Fenter, "Is he always like this? Is it something in his diet?"

Galand smiles at the dark bat. "Funny. That's what my old tutor used to say. Ironically enough, I now make at least twice what he did, and I don't even have a steady job."

"I can do the glowing eye thing too now! I got it when I became a sky-god!" The raccoon covers his eyes up. "What color are my eyes? Huh huh huh?"

Envoy guesses, "Puce!"

Galand shrugs. "Blue?"

The dark bat "bwahahahahas" again, then leaps into the air, his wings snapping out. "BWAHAHAHAHAHAaaaaaaa!" says he, as he vanishes into the darkness, a shadow among shadows… A few vermites skitter away from where he was previously standing.

Fenter doesn't seem to notice that the bat has gone. "C'mon, Wyckyd… take a guess!"

The Khatta sighs and taps Fenter on the shoulder lightly. "He's gone, O Mighty Sky-God."

There is no response from the dark, sinister … well, dark, anyway … bat.

"Oh phoo." the raccoon grumps. He takes his hands off of his eyes. "Well, let's have a drink before we all become servants under Wyckyd's thumb, shall we?"

The eyes are … purple!

Galand's voice drips with amused sarcasm. "Yes, Oh Mighty One… should I fetch you a drink, or perhaps a slave girl, or maybe I should just expediently grovel for awhile?"

Envoy smiles, "I can tell you about my adventure in the paquebot! It was FULL of dead bodies and a crazy Eeee. And you can tell me all about how you found a sky island, right Fenter?"

Fenter oooohs! "The first and last one, please. My vow as a Chaos mage keeps me from partaking of the second, I'm afraid."

As the group enters the bar – inviting a warning glare from the Vartan proprietor (with no indication as to exactly WHOM has earned the glare), Fenter's robes are more easily seen for their true colors in the better light: A jade green with bright yellow stars.

There are a few patrons at tables here and there, crates and barrels still being used in lieu of proper table legs. There are several planks patching a table-sized hole in one wall. All three thief heads are in their proper places up on the walls, and a foppish Fox plays merrily on a lute next to the fireplace.

The spotted Khatta chuckles, patting Fenter on the back, and waving to the owner of the Inn. "Jakka, my usual table, please?"

Fenter smiles and waves to Jakka.

The Vartan grunts, pointing at a vacant table. "You wants me carry it to you? You sits down there yourself."

Galand grins. "A pleasure as usual, Jakka… "

The disagreeable-looking Vartan snorts, and returns to polishing an already-shiny glass mug, this one of a slightly bluish tint. Perhaps she's gotten some new glasses recently. None of them seem to match.

Envoy waves to the Fox musician!

The Chaos mage clambers over to the table and plops down on one of the crates. His yellow eyes scan the menu, "Ew… they serve yiffles here. I'm surprised it's as quiet here as it is."

As if in explanation, there is a panicked shriek from the kitchen … and a little creature scampers out and across the floor, chased by a scrawking little Vartan fledgling.

The creature is blue-furred, resembling a cross between a pig and a fox. That is, the non-humanoid sort.

Envoy oos at the cute blue critter.

A Naga sitting at the counter looks at the scampering blue thing and puts down his menu. "I'll have THAT one." His tongue flicks merrily.

The Khatta sits down at the table, watching the spectacle as if it's not unusual around here. When the serving girl comes by, he gives her a drink order and a friendly pinch, along with a heavy tip.

Fenter yeeeeks and pulls his feet up. "Aieee… I hear those things can bite your face clean off, or at least glare at you really mean-like."

"Naga like to eat cute things?" Envoy asks in a worried tone.

Galand pats Envoy's hand reassuringly. "Only little cute things, dear."

"Cute? CUTE?!?!?" Fenter sputters. "Maybe you should buy the little devil instead and see how cute a yiffle can be… cute indeed. Brrr."

The little Vartan holds the even smaller fox-pig-thing by the fluffy tail. The creature shrieks and fusses loudly, shaking back and forth, as the frazzled-looking hippogryph quickly hauls it back to the kitchen. There are scuffling noises and more shrieking … and then the little Vartan comes out with a wooden platter, atop which is strapped down (with string) a squirming blue critter surrounded by nuts and garnishes.

Envoy blinks at Fenter, "Are you okay? Did you get attacked by yiffles on your sky island?"

Fenter folds his arms. "I once had my dorm room ransacked by one when I smuggled one of the things in there… a mind-mage told me they make a lovely little midnight snack. Last time I ask a Naga about what makes a proper snack."

A winged spotted feline in blue Temple robes, not too different-looking from the Khatta with the nigh-impossibly-long tail (except for the wings), enters. The Sphynx steps carefully around the little Vartan to sit down in an empty booth.

The Khatta chuckles softly. "I imagine it was a rather attention-devouring experience for you, Mighty One… I – " His voice trails off as he spots a flash of wing, spotted fur, and tail…

The serving girl hasn't left to fetch Galand's order, in fact she is still standing there, stunned. With slow, ominous movements the black, tailless almost-Khatta turns on the offending feline.

"You TOUCHED Zsofi!" She snarls

Smiling, Envoy looks up and asks, "Are you an Exile too?"

Galand blinks, distracted. "I'm sorry, who?"

Fenter looks back to his menu. "I think I'll have the Hiamaat Ale, if you please. And maybe a bottle of the Vykarin cider later… "

"I love that burning sensation whenever I drink it… and the way it warms your mug is just delightful!" The raccoon doesn't seem to have noticed the problem with Zsofi. "Although it's always a bother when it burns holes in your clothing. I've always hated that."

The Templar in blue looks around for a server, her eyes having adjusted to the dim lighting. She idly leafs through the menu while waiting.

A mug full of ale is placed in front of Fenter, piled high with off-white foam. "Two shekels," scrawks the Vartan.

"You touched Zsofi." She repeats herself, staring incredulously. Her serving uniform seems to be the only normal thing about the completely black demoncat. She resembles a Khatta, if one ignores her wicked hooves, and tall sharp horns. "Zsofi is not to be touched! Priests, who spend a lifetime on their knees until they have ground their flesh into every stone of the temple are allowed to look upon Zsofi, but No One Touches.!"

Fenter points to Galand. "His treat."

Galand looks annoyedly at the demoncat. "And just how was I supposed to know this?"

Envoy turns towards Fenter and asks, "What should I order?"

"Why? Do you have some kind of really painful skin disease?" Fenter asks Zsofi. "I got one of those once… crawled through the wrong kind of shrub and had the itchies for a week."

"You will get your drink, and you will give Zsofi big tip; this will not save you from being slaughtered, but will grant you my mercy." She explains.

"Do you by any chance know a black bat named Wyckyd?" Envoy asks Zsofi.

The Chaos mage looks over Envoy's menu, squinting his blue eyes through some of the smudges. "What sort of thing do you like to drink?""

Galand sighs, and slaps some more shekels on the table.

"Zsofi knows a black cat named Feli Kurai," the demoncat answers the Aeolun finally, in a disinterested voice.

"Liquids," the Exile answers to Fenter.

Envoy smiles back to Zsofi, "Really? He's a friend of mine! This fellow here, Galand, rescued him from a machine game that tried to eat him."

Fenter looks at Envoy, then at Zsofi, then gives Galand a 'Do-you-always-attracts-such-strange-women?' type of look.

One of the Sphynx' ears twitches in the direction of Zsofi, and its owner looks briefly in that direction before signaling to a passing server.

The little Vartan walks up to the Sphynx. "Scrawk!"

Fenter buries his face into his menu. "I suggest you just pick something, Envoy… and mind that it's not one of the more expensive things. We don't want to take advantage of Mister Ash's good graces afterall."

Envoy picks something that looks like it has fruit in it. "I'd like one of these, please," she tells Zsofi.

Zsofi continues to glare at Galand for a moment longer, as if expecting something. What exactly, isn't immediately apparent. Upon Envoy's order, the demoncat turns and stomps towards the kitchen, blue flashes arcing from her hooves.

Buran orders an ale and one of the less-spicy dishes on the menu.

The little Vartan blinks at Buran, smiling, and writes nothing down.

Galand gives Zsofi a look as if to say, What?!? He tries to point to the shekels he just placed on the table, but she stalks off before he has a chance.

Fenter puts his menu down and buries his nose in his drink. Glug glug glug.

Buran smiles at the little Vartan. "Well, then. Shall I just wait for -" She breaks off as Zsofi stomps her way back into the kitchen.

Galand murmurs, "'Scuse me… " to his companions and gets up, wandering over to the Sphynx's table.

The Vartan scrawks something at Buran.

Envoy chats with Fenter, asking, "How do you make your eyes change color like that?"

"I told you," Fenter responds annoyedly. "I'm a sky-god. It's a sky-god thing to do."

The tall male spotted Khatta walks up to the Sphinx's table and coughs politely. "Ahem… excuse me, m'lady… Have we met before?"

Buran nods to the Vartan, then blinks as if noticing something strange.

The little Vartan scrawks something else, then flutters off to the kitchen, leaving Buran alone at the table with the tall male Khatta.

"You said you died, too," Envoy says, not picking up on Fenter's tone. "What was that like?"

Fenter hiccups and wipes a bit of foam from his muzzle. "I'm not sure. I was screaming during most of it. I'm not very perceptive when I'm screaming."

From the kitchen there is the sound of violent stomping, terrified high pitched squeals that suddenly cut off, and a strange crackling noise.

The raccoon's ears perk, he cranes his neck towards the kitchen and sniffs at the air.

"Odd… " the Templar mutters to herself, gaze following the Vartan. Something – instinct, perhaps – alerts her to a nearby presence; she looks up and starts. "Oh!" Buran looks up at Galand.

Envoy umms, "Do you remember anything?" Then the Exile turns to look towards the kitchen as well.

"Don't be so impatient… you'll die someday and find out for yourself." Fenter says absently.

Galand blinks. "I'm sorry… I didn't mean to startle you, m'lady… I just wondered if we had met before… in the Bazaar perhaps?"

There are a few more heavy stomps, and then the kitchen is silent once more.

The little Vartan walks back, not flying, but using his wings nonetheless to help him balance as he carefully carries a large mug of ale and sets it down on Buran's table. He scrawks, then flutters back to the kitchen.

Envoy doesn't remark to Fenter that death is a bit different for her, and gazes across the room to see what Galand is up to.

Jakka looks faintly annoyed, and pokes her head into the kitchen momentarily. She makes grumbling noises, then reaches under the counter. She rummages about a bit, then comes back up with a sign that reads, "Today's Special: Yiffle Patty." She hangs it on the wall behind the bar.

The Sphinx taps a claw on the menu as she carefully studies the Vartan, but looks up once more to Galand. "Hmmm… I don't know that I've met you. But please, have a seat." She gestures toward the other side of the table.

Fenter makes an 'igh' face and sinks back down onto his crate. He focuses his attention back onto his drink.

Galand nods, and sits down, smiling… he studies Buran's face, then snaps his fingers. "Got it! I was in the marketplace, talking with the er, 'Boom-Fox' and that silly fop over there who's attempting to sing… you had fainted for some reason, and I aided you until the Guardsmen arrived… do you recall any of that?"

"That's a nice ring," Envoy comments to Fenter, trying to draw him back into some conversation. "I met your great-grandmother Miriam."

The raccoon spies the shekels Galand set on the table for Zsofi, he glances over towards the Khatta and notices his distraction… then promptly scoops up the coins and stuffs them into his pocket.

Moments later, the little Vartan, heavily burdened with several platters (but remarkably gifted with balance), delivers the ordered plates and drinks one table at a time, and gathers up the appropriate number of shekels. That is, until he reaches Galand's table, and looks expectantly at those present.

"Never heard of her." Fenter answers, taking another swig from his drink.

Fenter points towards Galand. "He's taking care of our tab, thankyouverymuch."

The Vartan makes another return to Buran's table and scrawks to Galand, holding out his hand patiently.

Envoy smiles at the little Vartan. She's never seen a young one before.

Buran shakes her head. "That fox? He never could carry a tune," she remarks as shekels – enough to pay for the drink and platter – are counted out. "There you go, little one." The appropriate coins are offered to the Vartan. "You've been most kind." An ear perks, tuned to catch the Vartan's reply.

Galand blinks at the Vartan. "But I left the money on the table over there."

The Vartan smiles at Buran, scrawking again as he puts away the shekels. He holds out his hand to Galand next, glancing back to Galand's table, shaking his head, and scrawking again.

Buran comments to Galand, "I think the little one says you haven't paid." She sips at her ale. "I wouldn't try to pull a fast one. You're liable to find your head mounted on the wall." A wave of her hand indicates the, er, trophies.

Galand looks over at Fenter and Envoy, his expression darkening slightly, then fishes out the appropriate amount of shekels, and hands it to the Vartan. He then digs out a hefty tip and says, "And this is for … Zsofi, I think her name was."

Envoy waves to Galand when she sees him looking back their way!

The little Vartan smiles, and scrawks the same thing he did to Buran just a moment before, this time to Galand. And then he heads off back to the kitchen.

Galand chuckles. "Oh, I know… I'm a regular here… or at least I frequent it enough to be judged one."

Envoy stares at the fox minstrel for awhile, and sips at whatever it is the little Vartan gave her to drink.

Fenter leans back in his seat, smiling goofily as the effects from the ale start to kick in.

It would appear that the little Vartan gave Envoy a mug of chilled water.

Galand smiles at Buran… he obviously a little more than a little gone at the moment. "So… do you recall any of the incident I described?"

Envoy whispers to Fenter, "Is Galand acting twitterpated, do you think?"

During a brief lull in the bar noise, the chorus of the foppish Fox's present song can be heard: "… Fraaaaaaancisco! A hero and a friend … " Well, a smidgen of it, anyway.

"Hey FOX," Fenter calls out. "You know da Ambergrish shong?" He hiccups.

Galand's ears flatten involuntarily at the sound…

The foppish Fox gives Fenter an annoyed look, then says, "MAYBE I just might… " His fluffy tail makes a conspicuous slap right next to a wooden bowl which has a smattering of shekels (all of the ceramic and low-denomination variety) in it.

The foppish Fox begins a new melody, and starts singing, "Oh Darling Ambergris, I think you're really keen; your eyes are red as blood, and your coat has a healthy sheen… "

The chaos mage bobs his head up and down and throws a few shekels at the Foxbard… his aim isn't all that good.

"Oooooooh, glorious Ambergris," croons the Fox, "with lips as soft as dew; your name's like a lovely song, and not like shelwhal spew… "

Buran's ears go flat – more likely at the singing than at the spotted Khatta before her – but she shakes her head. "One moment, I was eating, then everything spun… black. Then I woke up in the infirmary." One hand flutters in the air to punctuate her words. "I'm afraid I don't."

Envoy gets up and collects the strewn shekels for the fox, dropping them into his bowl.

The foppish Fox, eyes closed in musical reverie, sings, "Oh, Wondrous Ambergris, beauteous as Heaven above; if you ever get fat and round, there'll just be more to love… "

"Oh, my dear Ambergris, now that my heart's unfurl'd," the foppish Fox crescendos, "Won't you join me at my side, and together we'll rule the world!" He then breaks into a maniacal bout of laughter … broken off by some choking coughs as he clutches at his throat. "Bah. Never could quite get the 'Bwahahaha' part down… "

Envoy hmms. The fox could certainly be a twin for the Victor Reynard she knew. "Do you need something for your throat?"

Galand ahs, quietly. "Well, my lovely lady, I am afraid I do remember you… I asked the guards to remember me to you, but I see that they forgot."

Fenter tries to clap his hands… and ends up smacking himself in the face. His coordination isn't all that good when he's snockered.

The Sphynx mutters under her breath, barely audible. "The bard to hear, they said. Him? Anchor over Star… he's terrible. Always was."

The foppish Fox looks nervously up at Envoy. "Ah … ah … yes … Yes, I'd like that very much!" He smiles. "A mug o' ale would hit the spot nicely!"

Galand smiles and leans conspiratorially over to Buran. "Want to hear how someone pulled a fast one over him?"

Envoy goes to the bar to get the minstrel some ale.

"I'll share my drinksh wif you." the raccoon says to the foppish fox, pointing to is half-empty mug.

The foppish Fox smiles at Fenter. "Oh! That would be MOST gracious!"

Buran sips at her ale, though one eyebrow lifts. "Really?" The Technopriestess sounds intrigued. She lifts her fork and takes a bite of the food the Vartan brought.

Fenter pours the bottle of cider into his mug of ale… the combined chemical combination doesn't seem like a very pleasant one as his mug begins to hiss and bubble. He offers the remaining contents of the bottle to the fox.

The food is mildly spicy, with bits of unidentified well-cooked meat sprinkled throughout a mish-mash of saucy vegetable portions. Fairly weak by Vartan standards, really.

The Fox eagerly grabs the bottle and quickly presses it to his lips, chugging down the remnants. He falls back as he does so, bottle still to his lips. And then he hits the floor and the bottle goes rolling. Jakka's gaze follows the bottle's travel, momentarily distracting her from mug-polishing.

The foppish Fox's tail flops into the air, and then he just lays there, with a stupid grin frozen on his face.

Galand nods, then keeping his voice low, he says, "Well… I was wandering through the Bazaar, and I happened to stop by a booth selling Guy Fox Dolls… the Fop soon showed up, and I got an idea… I purchased a doll and snuck a small smoke-packet into it." He holds one up, then puts it away again. "Makes a loud bang and some smoke. Harmless, really. I arranged for the doll to fall into the Fop's hands, and when he squeezed the doll… "

Buran works her way around the spiciest parts. It's becoming a habit by now. Hopefully, there won't be too much spice in what she does eat. "Well," she comments, "I think your friend just pulled another fast one on him."

The male Khatta grins and makes an explosive gesture with his hands. "Boom."

Following suit, Fenter chugs his own mug… and falls over as well right next to the fox. The only difference is that he's snoring like a wounded Dromodon.

Jakka shrugs, going back to mug-polishing, absently scrawking an order to the little Vartan. The little Vartan flutters across the room and gathers the foppish Fox's wooden bowl of shekels, retreating with it to the bar.

Envoy returns with the ale to find the fox sitting… after a fashion… with Fenter now. Having nothing better to do, she takes the fox's relinquished spot and starts to sing, sticking to the more romantic melodies.

Galand's tale is met with laughter. "Oh, that's perfect!" Buran's whiskers twitch in amusement.

Galand grins. "Isn't it, though? I thought it appropriate, and the cubs loved it. That was the day you practically fell into my arms, my dear lady. I'm sorry you don't remember it. " He pauses, then adds, "I have a feeling the expression on your face would be twice as lovely if you had."

"… Eyes… Uncle Agnes… " Fenter mumbles in-between roaring snores. "… bah… plants… "

Envoy watches Galand and Buran, and segues into a ballad about two strangers meeting by chance…

Galand snickers. "He was shedding soot for hours afterward."

The Templar sips her ale. Both of her eyebrows raise. "It wasn't intentional, I assure you," she replies. "Was he, now? Interesting. Might I see that pellet for a moment?"

The raccoon's arms flail out, as if fighting some unseen foe. "… First ones… crystals… GAH!"

Galand nods, then carefully hands it over. "Don't drop it hard, step on it, or squeeze it, unless you want a faceful."

"NO MORE YIFFLES AND HAY!!!" Fenter roars in his sleep, slapping the foxbard across the muzzle.

The Fox bard is still grinning, oblivious to the assault on his muzzle.

Jakka, meanwhile, snorts, giving Fenter a very annoyed look.

Fenter belches loudly.

Buran examines the pellet. A simple affair, really. "An elegant and efficient design," she remarks. "Admirable. And relatively safe." The pellet is set carefully on the table. A hint of a wicked smile crosses her face. "And used to an … admirable … purpose." Her gaze darts momentarily toward the crumpled fox.

Galand smirks, and nods. "Most certainly so." He pauses, studying her for a moment before saying, "I hope you don't mind me saying so, but… well, you're the first Khatta I've seen with my coloration other than my parents… are there any more like you?"

Envoy gets up and makes her way back to the table, still singing, to see that Fenter is okay.

The male Khatta smiles and winks, "You know, pretty, smart, and appreciative of a good prank?"

Buran looks lost in thought, distant somehow. Her gaze focuses on the far wall, or perhaps through it. "I don't know," she says quietly. Then her eyes flicker toward the kitchen door which the little Vartan last dissappeared through.

After deciding that the fox and Fenter are safely inebriated, Envoy makes her way over towards Galand and his friend…

Fenter rolls over in his sleep, snoring again. "… Babelites… water… urgh, squish… "

Galand slaps his forehead. "I am such a fool. I didn't even properly introduce myself… " He gently offers his hand. "My name is Ashur Galand. You can call me Ash."

"I don' want the Emperor to squish me, Mister Bassai… " the raccoon continues to mumble.

Buran sets her fork down, letting the rest of the food go uneaten. Perhaps it was too spicy, after all. She gently takes the Khatta's hand. "Buran," she replies. "Hello, Mr. Galand… Ash."

Envoy pauses halfway across the room, then turns and heads back to Fenter. "What about Bassai?" she whispers into his ear. Maybe he'll actually hear her…

Galand squeezes the lady's hand gently, then releases it after a moment. "Buran… a lovely name."

Fenter yells loudly, "Bassai says Envoy eats people's brains!!!" and then goes back to snoring.

Jakka's feathers poof out, and she gives Fenter an even more annoyed glare. She sets down her mug.

Buran starts as Galand speaks her name; she murmurs softly, "… Sister? … " Once again, her attention drifts from the Khatta and his nigh-impossibly-long tail.

The Vartan makes her way around the bar, stoops down … and picks up the unconscious Rath'ani and Fox, slinging one over each shoulder. She then makes her way toward the back door with her loudly snoring burdens.

Galand blinks momentarily, then waves a hand in front of Buran's face. Catching Envoy's eye, he says to her, "Looks like the old Rath'ani had one too many, eh?"

Envoy blinks back at Galand, "He only had one though, didn't he?"

"Uncle Agnes… coming… coming soon… bring food, squibbits taste terrible." Fenter babbles as he bounces on Jakka's shoulder. "Sifras… Nagai… " He seems to be babbling more but his voice doesn't carry very far.

There is a slamming noise, and shortly thereafter, Jakka returns, minus her 'passengers', dusting off her claw-hands. She returns to the serious business of mug-polishing, back at the bar.

Galand snaps his fingers once in front of each of Buran's eyes. "Hey… are you still with me?"

Buran doesn't respond, not really; instead, she murmurs, "… Sister? … " again. She seems to be concentrating on something other than her surroundings.

Galand sighs. {Why do I always get the odd ones?} He wanders up to the bar, purchases another ale, and sits back down.

Galand finds a scrap of paper and a pen, and scribbles on it, "Ash Galand, Three Thieves Inn, Bazaar, or The Beggared Poodle. Hope to see you soon, lovely lady. -A.G." He slips it into her hand, then pays the remainder of his tab, and bidding Envoy farewell, wanders upstairs to his usual room.

Out in the alleyway, a foppish Fox voice can be heard, drunkenly slurring a song…

"Under the Sewer! … Under the Sewer!"

"Down where it's meaner; Down where it's greener; Down where the leaner Khattas get theener… "

Fortunately, the sounds of a collapsing pile of crates drowns out the rest of the song…