(OOC) Fri Feb 27 1998 07:10 PM by "Malachi" at "Holodeck -->

The creaking of wood greets Meow's ears, as he slowly regains consciousness. Ow! His back hurts from the way he was lying against the … crate. No … he's not home in bed. Not even having to share a room with his little sister. He's in a 'room' partitioned out of the hold of a rickety airship, the 'walls' of this space defined by some tied-down crates, the 'floor' made slightly softer by a pile of patched and stained blankets.

Meow does the standard issue waking up groan (Which just comes out as a long 'mew'), which has double meaning this day. He stands up and pops his back, then looks around. How long did he sleep?

There's no telling. It's dark here in the hold. If there are any cracks in the wood, they aren't letting in any sunlight from outside … or Procession-light, either.

The white-spotted Khatta sighs, although its against his better judgement, he decides that he should go up on deck. What exactly he'll find there, he isn't sure, after all, things usually aren't worth looking forward to when you're on a slave ship.

Much fumbling and blundering later, and near-misses of sleeping Savanites, the Khatta makes his way out of the hold and abovedecks … or … yes, this is abovedecks. But it's pitch black up HERE, too!

Meow sighs audibly, looks like he's slept all through what was left of the day. Carefully, the Khatta pads out onto the deck and looks about, everyone must be asleep.

Slowly, Meow's vision begins to return … revealing the deck of the ship, lit by an unearthly light. Sort of like the lights in the Temple Sanctuary during the really big rituals, not having any apparent source to come from. But beyond the railing, outside the ship, the world is nothing but pitch blackness.

Now that Meow can see, he finds that the deck is not deserted at all. There are several Savanite hands, clinging onto railing and rigging. The "headband" Savanite that Meow saw earlier is at the rear of the deck, performing some sort of ritual dance in a circle, amongst a ring of black candles, with a few other Savanites playing music … music which Meow didn't hear just a moment ago.

The Khatta blinks curiously at the dancing, only now realizing the music accompanying it. As quietly as he can, Meow sneaks over towards the other felines, also looking about to see if he can figure out just what sort of ship he's on.

For what it's worth, some of the Savanites seem pretty bewildered, staring off into black space beyond the ship.

The ship has certainly seen better days. It shows sign of some fresh patching, and sections of railing that have been replaced recently. At least the ship is being kept fairly CLEAN. Funny … Savanites here, Savanites there, but no sign of a captain or any non-Savanite crew so far.

Meow arches a brow, this isn't right: where are the slavers and the guards? After all, who ever heard of Savanites piloting a ship on their own? The Khattaponders over this, while looking for any secluded place to watch the goings on so that he won't be noticed.

With the way the Savanites are watching the dark space beyond the ship (Where IS the light coming from, anyway? No sun … ) it looks like Meow can easily slip to any convenient spot in the rigging or amongst some of the supplies tied down on the deck, or a spot next to the cabin. Or he could just look at the 'view' over the railing.

The spotty-cat look-alike shrugs, when in the Savan, do as the Savanites (Although not the Savan, but it might as well be at the moment.) Hoping he'll just 'blend in', the cat sneaks over to the railing by some of the Savanites, and tries to get a gander at just what they're gazing at.

Nothing, by the look of it. Absolutely … nothing. The blackness beyond the ship is absolute and seemingly infinite. Starless, without any Procession or any world beneath. By the feel of the winds whipping about the ship, it must be airborne.

The Khatta gives a small reflective 'mew' in thought, then turns to watch the dancers. He must have blended in good enough, since no one has yet to acknowledge his presence.

The dancers move about in circles. Every once in a while, it is evident that a dancer is tiring … and another takes his or her place. The central dancer – "headband" – remains in the center, however. Her dancing is not as exhausting, it seems, but she is still evidently tired. Also, she doesn't have that headband. As she twirls about, Meow gets a glimpse of a spot of … light? … on her forehead. It's … a third eye! It's glowing!

Meow's jaw drops, he knew Savanites were strange, but this? He peers at the dancing closely, leaning in to get a better look. If they're tired, why don't they all just rest?

One of the tired dancers steps out of the circle. There's a pause before another can take her place … and during that time, the blackness around the ship lapses … revealing mountains passing by underneath! It's daytime, and those mountains … where IS this place? But before there's a chance to investigate, the other dancer steps in … and the blackness seals itself together again about the ship.

The Khatta spins around to look out past the railing, just as the blackness returns. If his jaw fell any further, it be out of its socket! He remembers the spotty's back in that ruined city talking about magic, but he had just thought that it was all talk, since he had never really seen any of them do it before. ( This is just too much… )

The ship continues. Some of the hands on deck do simple cleaning chores … but nothing much really happens.

That is, aside from dancing. Circles of dancers. Dances amidst candles. Candles on the deck of a ship enshrouded in darkness. Somewhere perhaps far from Rephidim now.

And where do you suppose we are going? comes an alien notion that intrudes upon Meow's thoughts … as if heard whispered in his ear … but not actually heard.

Meow's heart sinks, for all he knows, this ship is en route to the other side of the planet. He sighs again, but then suddenly jumps at the voice, fur frazzled on end. He darts his head around looking for the source, "Mew?

It's that tall, spooky Savanite in the dark brown robes. He's just behind Meow, and, by the look of him, might as well have been recently dancing as well, though Meow didn't seem him up on the deck. An odd buzzing sensation intrudes upon his thoughts, as the Savanite moves his fingers. "I am Twilight-Wing," the fingers sign … and Meow can understand. He can't HELP but understand. It's fairly bewildering.

The Khatta is totally confused now, this is just so strange. He stares at up at the tall cheetah timidly; yes, Meow can understand the cheetah, but how is he supposed to reply? "Meow?"

"Greetings, Feli," answers the tall cheetah in sign … and that buzzing sensation. "You have no need to fear. We have not much further to go. I do not think we are being pursued."

Meow eyes go wide, how did he understand that? He lets out another small 'mew', which roughly translates, "Wh-where are we going?"

"The City of Hands," Twilight-Wing responds. "You were not aware of this? Perhaps our 'recruiters' were a little too enthusiastic."

"Meow! Reowr… " The Khatta tries to cover up the mistake, "O-oh, yehah, yeah I knew. I just woke up you see, guess it skipped my mind… "

Twilight-Wing responds only by raising an eyebrow at Meow … and walks along.

If Khatta's could sweat, Meow would be soaking wet by now. He watches the cheetah leave, and breathes a sigh of relief. How in the heck did he understand what the Savanite was saying? Even more puzzling, how did the Savanite understand him? At least now he knows their destination, although it brings little comfort.

The rest of the voyage goes along with any noteworthy incident. Meow gets some more soup to fill his belly (and water to quench his thirst), and the passage of time is hard to measure, except for glimpses of the outside world when the dancers change 'shifts'. But then, the ritual comes to an end … and the blackness about the ship slips away, revealing a nighttime sky … and the jungle below, split by a rushing river.

The crew-hands spring into action, tossing mooring lines over the edge. Somewhere down below, dimly lit by the glow of the Procession, shadowy forms can be seen securing the mooring lines along the riverbank in a clearing at the fringe of the jungle.

Meow, now with a full stomach, paces above deck, making sure to steer clear of the hands. He looks over the railing at the jungle below. Last time he was here, the Savanites tried to burn him alive, and he shudders at the thought. Speaking of last time, the cat looks around for the headband wearer, what does she have to do with this?

The ship's rickety landing platform is moved into place in a matching hole in the deck, and some of the cargo is loaded onto it … and slowly lowered down to the ground. Below, several of the 'silhouettes' unload the cargo … and the platform moves back up for another load.

The headband-wearer … the one with the third, glowing eye … has disappeared, perhaps having gone belowdecks. However, it must be against the traffic flow, for Savanites are coming abovedecks, many of them carrying boxes and crates and other supplies. Some are carrying kittens, or assisting the elderly or crippled amongst the 'crew'.

The Khatta walks over to the rest of the crewmembers, and with a shrug, decides he might as well help. Meow grabs a reasonably sized crate, and follows the others. At least this way he won't stick out.

The loading platform goes up and down for a few more iterations, carrying down some of the passengers on each trip, along with supplies. Those who go down to the clearing are ushered by several Savanites already there, toward a barely-visible trail leading into the jungle. There are no torch-lights … Everything is being done in the faint light of the Procession.

Meow stands in line behind the others. Being a spoiled brat has its disadvantages, as the crate seems to be becoming heavier and heavier as he just stands and waits his turn.

Eventually, the Khatta has his turn, riding down with a few miscellaneous Savanites. At the bottom, several Savanites waiting there take up some of the crates, while those aboard the platform disembark, carrying their parcels. Meow is ushered toward the trail where the others are heading out of the clearing in a fairly organized fashion.

Meow follows along, not having brought any parcels of his own. He makes sure to stick close to the others, since the path is hard to see even with his night-vision. The cat starts to try and make conversation, but shuts up quickly as he remembers his current voice situation.

It drives the Khatta nearly insane not hearing a voice for this long, and not being able to make a voice himself.

Eventually, the trail makes its way, over several hills, into a clearing. Well, sort of a clearing. It's an open spot in the midst of a ring of exceptionally tall trees … gargantuan compared to anything growing on Rephidim, but not alien to the Khatta's eyes. After all, he's been in a jungle much like this before. A WHOLE lot like this, actually.

Too much like this, truth be told. Meow stares around, trying to see if this is the same village he was at before.

No, it's not Storm-Hand's village, though it's fashioned in a very similar fashion. There are signs that some of the huts are occupied … but there's something very temporary, fleeting about the arrangement. It just doesn't look terribly lived-in … more like ruins, really, occupied only by the presently-at-hand intruders.

Meow grimaces, still tagging along behind the felines who know what they're actually doing. He sees a few of them doing that wiggly hand stuff, and starts to wish he could do it too.

There's a wagon in the clearing, and many of the Savanites start loading their burdens onto it. While they are still loading, another wagon comes up, from a trail opposite the one that Meow took into this village. Some of the Savanites themselves start getting onto this wagon, while the cargo wagon rolls off, filled with supplies.

Some of the Savanites aren't moving anything at all, just watching … armed with spears and swords and other weaponry, adorned in costumes that have a barbaric … yet somehow refined … look to them. Savanite … soldiers?

Meow gulps, the last thing he wants to see is an armed, angry slave. He walks up to the wagon and simply halts, not sure if its meant for him or if he is supposed to wait.

Several Savanites start boarding, and one of them halts, as if waiting for Meow to get on ahead of him.

The Khatta blinks, then with a sigh climbs up into the cart. Once there he sits stalk still, since he's still not used to being around slaves… but are they slaves? He hasn't seen a single slaver yet, maybe those crazy cats at the ruined city actually succeeded in remaining anonymous.

If they are slaves … a good number of the Savanites are not wearing their identifying collars.

The wagon sets off, rumbling through the jungle. It seems as if the trail dies away, and that the jungle is riding through rough foliage … but it's almost as if the jungle parts ways for the wagon! It's a fairly strange thing to see … as the jungle seems to just close up again, obscuring any sign of the wagon's passage. Something very strange is going on here. Even the other Savanites on the wagon look a bit alarmed at this.

The Khatta rigidly looks around at his fellow passengers, still amazed that they haven't recognized that he's not one of them yet.

Meow's jaw is getting quite a workout today, since it drops yet again. The college Esoterica wasn't far from his house, but even then he never saw things like this! Tearing his eyes away from the jungle, he looks back at the other passengers. Perhaps he can get somewhat of an idea of what's going on from their expressions.

The ride goes on for quite some time … and eventually the jungle parts way to reveal a rushing river. The wagon rolls along the river … and then approaches a stone bridge … one that seems to have been cut from a single stone, arching gracefully across the treacherous waters. The wagon rolls across, and along a worn path on the other side. The jungle displays no more antics, since the path is fairly open. As the early morning mists part – for it does seem the night is already waning – Meow can see that the wagon is now riding along a canyon … for the river they just went over is cascading over the canyon walls, crashing into an even larger river far below.

The Khatta thinks he remembers the river from the last time he was at the city, that means they must not be too far away now.

The wagon makes its way to a stone bridge that spans the canyon. A few adventurous trees have somehow taken root in the stones that support this ancient structure, and it looks a bit crumbled in places … but nonetheless it stands, and apparently it's sturdy enough for the driver to chance riding across. And so he does. The view from the long, narrow bridge is breathtaking … and surely yet another feat of magic must have been necessary to build such a span as this, far above the river and canyon floor.

Yes, this is the same canyon as that which holds the City … but it is not to be seen. There are tumbles of broken rocks, and signs of destruction, and scorches on the canyon walls … but no City.

Meow stands up and leans over the side for a better look, you never get to see things like this on Rephidim! The canyon must be as deep as they were high in the airship! Still standing and leaning, the cat looks at the scorch marks with ears set back. The city wasn't destroyed, was it?

It sure appears that way. Craters. Destruction. The jungle has even begun to reclaim the canyon. The wagon crosses the stone bridge, and rolls along a trail, where the view of the canyon is obscured. Eventually, it comes out another point, and it looks as if … the wagon is about to go right off a cliff! The driver doesn't seem to be the least bit alarmed. Several Savanite ears flatten back in alarm, and tails bristle out.

The Khatta's ears go flat against his head, and he grits his teeth. What is that crazy rug-fodder doing?! He still stands, but clutches on to the side, obviously looking like he might jump over the side off the bridge.

A couple of other Savanites look to be of like mind … and then the scene ahead of the wagon ripples, like a reflection in water disturbed by a pebble dropped into its midst. As the 'waves' spread outward, the scene seems to rearrange itself. What seemed to be an oddly-colored rock outcropping in the distance, across the canyon, is actually a stone ramp very close by, leading down the cliff's face. The wagon winds its way down the narrow – but quite solid – path. Furthermore, what seemed to be rubble now seems to be a collection of buildings … just … seen from the wrong direction? It all seems as if it should be perfectly sensible, really … but mayhaps not. More magic, surely, is at work here…

This is even more evident when, as the wagon descends, a city is to be seen nestled within the canyon, stretching outward and even continued on further ledges and dwellings dug into the cliff faces. Even with a trick of the light or looking from the wrong angle, there's just no WAY that this jungle metropolis could pass for lifeless rubble. Savanites can be seen moving about below, dressed in costumes varied – simple work clothes suffice for many, while others wear colorful costumes.

Meow starts to get a dim opinion of magic, if it keep acting like this! Heart beating insanely, he sits back down to catch his breath.

The Khatta shakes his head at the sight, he's never seen so many Savanites in his life! They must have gotten busy, because there surely wasn't this many last time. Now sure that its safe, he stands back up again, bodily peering over some other passengers without regard.

The wagon hits a rock, causing it to bump and bounce on the path. One of the Savanites lets out a panicked bark, then covers her mouth, embarrassed. But the Khatta … oops. He loses his grip, and falls headlong off the side!

"Reowr!" shrieks the cat wildly, as he grabs like a maniac at the side to keep from going completely over.

Alas, the Khatta cannot get a good hold. Down he goes! DOWWWWwwwwwwwnnnn … … . . . . . !

*SPLASH*

*BURBLEBURBLEBURBLE*

"MYAAAAAAAAA!" yells Meow, and then he is suddenly silenced by the water. "Bluble-*mya!*-bubble… "

And up the Khatta goes again, breaking up to the surface of the water, being borne along in the rushing river that winds down the center of the canyon. And … boy … this water is COLD!

Meow paddles like crazy, looking like an idiot due to the fact that he hates water, and isn't a very good swimmer. He lets out a few mews of help desperately!

The canyon walls race past … but there's something up ahead! *BURBLE* Ah! There it is again. It's … a giant … HAND?

The unmistakable shapes of four fingers and a thumb stick up from the rushing water.

It might be strange, but this cat isn't one to pass up a helping paw! He wildly grabs at the fingers, trying to latch on and stop his momentum.

The fingers are slick, wet stone, as cold as the water. It seems as if the Khatta is about to be washed along … but a couple of hands grasp onto his arm. He comes up, seeing a couple of girl Savanites, perhaps having come down to the river to wash clothes. (This latter theory is supported by a number of cloths scattered about the rocks, laid out to dry.)

The palm of the stone hand, though occasionally covered by the river, provides a support for the two young Savanites who do their utmost to try to hold the Khatta against the current.

Meow likewise grabs on, paddling insanely to try and help the girls. He pulls a bit to get himself out of the water, but not too much as to pull them in with him.

He also makes a point not to unleash his claws, although it goes against every instinct he has.

With a bit of struggling and much splashing of water, Meow is out of the water. The three spotted felines collapse on the bank, gasping for breath, soon after. Or … hmm … two spotted felines. Two spotted felines and a very splotchy-looking feline. A mostly black feline, really.

The Khatta looks down at himself, and although gasping for breath, almost lets out a mew of joy, he got his color back! Now he doesn't have to look like a Savanite slave anymore! Wait a minute… that might not be a good thing at the moment…

The Khatta's fur seems to be terribly indecisive about what color it should be. His paw is black … then, a cloud passes by overhead … was that just a trick of the light? Or is his paw white again? Or spotted? Rubbing one's eyes doesn't make it any clearer. Something strange is going on. More magic? Just can't get away from it, it seems…

Up a steep incline, a few Savanites rush over, coming to see what is going on. Amidst them, a sour-looking Savanite dressed up like a … witch doctor? … storms past them, pushing his way through the crowd. He makes very angry-looking signs at Meow.

Meow's nostrils flare, what in the name of the Star is going on?! His ears go ashen as he seems to be the chameleon of the feline world at the present time. He looks up at the witch doctor and his ears go even paler. He shrugs at the cheetah, giving out only a few nervous mews.

The strange display fades … and then Meow is back to looking like a bleached but spotted cheetah again. The witch doctor still looks angry.

Ooookay, that was certainly one of the strangest things the cat has ever seen. Although he has his camouflage back, inwardly he sighs in disappointment. Meow turns his attention back to the angry doctor and just shrugs again, shaking his head. "Meow!" ( I don't understand! )

The witch doctor, unlike the brown-robed Twilight-Wing, doesn't show the least bit of inclination to understand Meow … or make his intent known … well, other than looking fairly angry and threatening. My … are those shrunken HEADS on his belt? The other Savanites seem to be giving him plenty of space…

Meow backs away, giving him some space as well (but not back into the river.) Me motions up to the cliff face, and makes a falling gesture with his paws, then a shrug.

The witch-doctor makes a few other gestures, none of them friendly. There's a bit of a commotion, as another figure is pushing its way through the crowd … this one a female … It's that three-eyed Savanite again! She's dressed much differently now … adorned in fine robes unbefitting a slave, but more appropriate to … some sort of queen or princess? She's adorned with jewelry fashioned of precious stones and metals, intermixed with colorful bits of finely-carved wood and ivory. Upon her head, she wears a headdress that is fashioned to resemble a Creen that has chosen to cradle her crown and cheeks, its wings spread outward, its head rising above the third eye in the cheetah's forehead. She bears a staff of twined warpwood, topped with a glassy ball that reflects the morning's light and refracts it, giving the illusion of a star glowing within its center.

Even the angry witch-doctor steps aside, to let the three-eyed one pass.

Perhaps his muscles have stopped working, because once again Meow's jaw is attracted to the gravitational pull of the planet. Even the rich poodles back home never dressed in such finery! And the fact that a slave is doing so, not to mention that it's thelast slave Meow wants to see, only adds to that effect.

With the context and all, it's now very, very easy to place the identity of that richly-dressed Savanite. Jezebel. Third-Eye. The one whose hair became a sticky mess thanks to an accident that a certain black Khatta named 'Jynx' was involved in during his last visit to this city (when it wasn't as well developed).

And now she's walking right up to 'Meow'.

Meow backs away, she must have found out who he is, now he's in for it! The Khatta's tail thrashes nervously, and a few small meows emanate forth.

With a thump, Jezebel plants the base of her staff on the riverbank… and drags it through the sand. She writes out, in simple lettering – in Rephidim Standard – "Why have you returned?"

The Khatta's heart jumps into his throat, the jig is up, she does recognize him! Swallowing his blood-pump back down, he furrows his brow, she can write? Although shocked, Meow isn't one to disappoint, and squats down to write a reply. "It wasn't my fault!"

Jezebel walks over to look at the reply right-side-up, then just gives the Khatta a … weary look. She wipes out the writing with a foot, then writes, "While you're here, learn sign. I haven't time for this." And then she glides off. The witch doctor flashes several signs at her, but she brushes him off coldly. The doctor just gives Meow this … LOOK … and storms off.

Meow just blinks, that's not what he had expected (his expectations involved magic lightning bolts and a lot of pain, but that's irrelevant now). Still a bit surprised at getting off so easy, he just stands stupidly, suddenly noticing all the attention he's getting with a blush of embarrassment.

The crowd slowly breaks up, and the two girls return to their clothes-washing. Maybe Meow has gotten off 'easily' … but he's out in the middle of a jungle, in a city populated by Savanites, far from Rephidim … and with a few of them, at least, who – for SOME reason – seem to dislike him to varying degrees. Of course, it COULD be worse. And with a certain sometimes-black-Khatta's luck … it just might GET that way…

Yes, it more than likely will get that way, but for the moment the misfortune seems to have lulled. With yet another sigh, the Khatta looks around, he might as well make himself at home, he's probably going to be here for a while. Shaking the rest of the water off, he remembers the girls, and heads their way to thank them in some way. After all, they really aren't that bad looking…