It is now during Inquisitrix Turtle's off-time. Her private chambers provide her with some refuge from the hustle-and-bustle of so much of Rephidim Temple, and the politics that she already seems to be in the thick of.

Turtle sits quietly on the edge of her bed, running a rounded brush carefully through the straight thickness of her long mane.

She watches her mirror idly, as the brush moves almost mechanically through her hair for another stroke. As she stares, a few worn lines stick out to her from all the bustling she's done lately, trying to catch up with the pace of Temple life again.

The room is lit by the soft glow of a lamp on the reading desk, and by an incense candle that glows even more softly, filling the room with a barely discernable but sweet fragrance that is faintly reminiscent of herbs and some place far away.

Turtle sighs, and slowly gets up to walk closer to the mirror. She studies the line a bit longer, frowning at her complexion. The sweet smell relaxes but a bit.

A recessed, dark panel in the ceiling suddenly flashes on … then off again. It doesn't light up again. Must be those Technopriests working above the ceiling again…

Turtle glances up at the ceiling. "Oh bother," she mutters.

The ceiling-mounted panel seems intent on remaining in its usual darkened state now, without any further flickering. Actually, it's the only time it has flashed since Turtle moved into these quarters.

Turtle goes back to the mirror, sighing over the lines once more, and over the erraticness of this place. She thinks back over her past quarters, and of the airship that brought her to this place.

… and Melchizedek. Her brow furrows a bit, remembering that she now has that black… omen's office, and of her stormy conversation with him back at the Santuary of the Champion of…

Turtle stops. "The scrolls," she whispers.

So far as the Inquisitrix knows, the scrolls are still safely kept away where she put them, still sealed, still unopened.

Turtle ponders a moment, then walks over to the large closet, stuffed full despite its size.

The wardrobe is packed to capacity with the Inquisitrix's considerable collection of fashionable attire, new and old. And of the old, it's VERY old … fortunately old enough that it has come back into style again.

Turtle pulls out several gowns – a blue sarong dress with tassled fringe, an electric green ball outfit with gold-like trimmings, a pink suit-dress with seashell patterns – until she finds the toga she once wore in the gardens of the Sanctuary. She digs through the folds into an (obviously unusually-placed) pouch pocket.

The scrollcase is still in the pouch, right where the Aeonian left it. And, the seal is still intact.

Turtle brow furrows wonderingly, and she pulls out the case, putting the dress away.

Turtle starts to open it, then remembers something, and walks over to lock the door, making sure she's not interrupted.

Turtle moves back over to her bed, and sits down to open the case.

The room is quiet, save for the sound of air rushing through the plastic grill covering the air duct that circulates out any extra smoke.

Breaking the seal and opening the case, Turtle finds that the case contains, not surprisingly, multiple pieces of parchment. However, none of it seems to be a letter from the Champion. But then … how COULD he write something, anyway?

Turtle hmms, ruffling through the papers confused.

Something shiny catches the unicorn's eye, sliding out of the scrollcase and falling onto the bed. It's a little pendant in the shape of a four-pointed, stylized star, like the symbol of the Temple, only minus the crescent that makes the "anchor" out of it.

The papers are maps. Maps of various places on Sinai.

The gold flecks in Turtle's eyes sparkle at the pendant. She carefully picks it up, and looks between it and the maps, still trying to understand.

The shape of the star is repeated on each map … where it is used as part of a compass rose. The symbol of the Bounded Star and Anchor can also be seen on each map as well. The maps show locations of what must be Templar bases all over Sinai, and even the position of Golgotha on Rephidim itself (as if that needed to be spelled out).

Some of the outposts are located in or near Forbidden Zones, making them difficult to access. The scariest of these would probably be one that is apparently within the wild magic area of Bosch – a fortified monastery serving as an oasis in a sea of madness that shows the ugly side of magic. Others are in not-quite-so-important areas, built during conflicts long ago, but apparently never since abandoned. At least, not officially.

Perhaps not surprisingly, the Sanctuary of Amber is shown clearly as well, on a map of Shabar. And, on the same map can be seen the whereabouts of the Inquisitrix's previous stationing.

Turtle places the pendant back in her lap, then continues mulling over the maps, trying, perhaps, to connect them somehow to the things the Champion said. The bustle to catch up to speed now had allowed her to slip them to the back of her mind, but now they stand out again.

It would seem that, aside from marking out possible vacation spots (should Turtle decide to use some of her built-up vacation time) and Places To Avoid At All Costs, if the Inquisitrix ever needs to find a Knight Templar, she now knows everywhere to look for one … unless there are any Templars Errant, that is.

Turtle sighs, the worn lines showing deeper, then relaxing on her face. She carefully puts the maps and pendant back in the case, and then in a safer place than her dress for the future.

The scrolls put safely away again, the Inquisitrix is left alone in the sanctuary of her chamber, the walls sufficiently thick to keep out even the sounds of any traffic in the corridor outside. Going from absolute solitude to a claustrophia-inducing Temple packed full of priests, inquisitors, auditors, guards, slaves and pilgrims can be taxing on one's nerves, perhaps.

There comes a loud rapping on the Inquisitrix's door.

Turtle blinks, turning around quickly as if expecting to see soemone watching her put the scrolls away. Her heart jumps, then she steadily walks the distance of the room to unlock the door.

The door slides open, revealing a poodle in formal evening wear (with a bit of frills around the cuffs and lapels) and a hat to die from (as opposed to "to die for") perched on his head. His eyes have a dirty appearance around them, stained and dark. Plus, there's the way his gaze lingers downward before returning to look the Inquisitrix in the face and to offer her a too-wide smile. "Good evening, Inquisitrix. I do hope I am not disturbing. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Arch Inquisitor Majoris Caesar Moffat. At your service."

Turtle stands a bit aback, remembering Neekto flustering into her office. "How… how interesting," she manages to get out, and then catches herself, her eyes narrowing.

The poodle says, "Yes. I find you very interesting. In fact, I think I'd like to get to know you better. Would you care to join me for dinner?"

Turtle seems a bit stunned at first, then her eyes narrow further into what might be considered a look of distrust. "How curious. You don't even know me." The look fades as she continues, going over the usual sarong and Temple robes she wears, "Besides, I'm really not dressed to go out for the evening right now… "

The poodle smiles. "Well, who says we have to go out? I could have something brought here. Or else we could go to my private quarters. What better way to get to know you?"

Turtle puts a hand on her hip, looking a bit on the annoyed side.

"Please, please," says the poodle as he pushes his way into the room. "This is only as what I hope will be the start of a long and mutually beneficial friendship. Don't think of me as your superior, or anyone who could possibly have any bearing on future advancements or assignments. Just think of me as … a friend." If he grins any more widely, it's going to stick that way.

The poodle has been holding his hands behind his back. He now reveals them … holding a bottle of champagne (or some other spirits) in one hand, and a couple of glasses in another. Of course, he's still grinning.

Turtle steps forward swaggeringly, her hand still on her hip. Her eyes are so narrow, one would wonder if she can see. "Let me put it this way. I don't know you very well yet, but I'd like to keep it that way just a bit longer." She puts special sarcastic emphasis on the last few words.

Moffat backs up a step … to the side, still ending up a bit further into the room. "Now, now, let's not get any ideas here. Here. How about you close the door and I'll pour us a couple of drinks. After a few drinks, I'm sure we'll be having a great time."

Turtle looks incrediblious. "Or maybe you should just go out like you originally suggested."

"Unthinkable!" says the poodle, with a look of mock hurt. "Come now. I'm just trying to be friendly. We'll get along much better if we're friendly."

Turtle points to the door. "Tell me about it when you get back."

The poodle sets down the glasses and bottle, with a look of shock. "Pardon me. Did I just hear … you ORDER me to do something? Did I? Oh dear, oh dear… "

Turtle crosses her arms. She obviously does not find this charade amusing.

Turtle says, "No, but I'm certain you got the drift."

"Let me explain a few things, since you're obviously NEW here. You see, I am Arch Inquisitor Majoris Caesar Moffat. I am GOING to be the Arch Inquisitor Supreme, once Maleficos is promoted to his next assignment. I hate to be so blunt … but I can make you or break you." His facade of politeness, flimsy as it was in the first place, has completely crumbled now.

Turtle seems unmoved by the poodle little announcement.

The poodle's expression turns into an ugly glower. "Have it your way, Inquisitrix. But you will regret this. Of that you can be sure." He storms back to the door.

Turtle says, "And this meeting doesn't have anything to do with our rank at all, does it?"

Turtle's tone is getting more cynical every moment.

The poodle doesn't answer. He heads out of the room, into the corrodor, muttering profanities under his breath. Definitely NOT speech appropriate for someone of the Temple.

Turtle shudders, dropping back down on her bed.

"Inquisitrix?" comes an avian voice from the corridor. "Are you all right?" It's Neekto, the young Korv acolyte who serves as the Inquisitrix's secretary.

Turtle wipes away the tears on the rims of her eyes, trying with some pain to don her usual veil of indifference.

The crow waddles into the room, his head dipped slightly in shame as he sees the bottle and empty glasses. "Do you want me to take this away?" he caws quietly.

Out in the hallway, a Savanite slave quietly pads up, just outside the door.

Turtle looks over to the bottle and snorts. "Yes, please. Take them to the Inquisitor Moffat, and tell them I'm returning them without my compliments." She stops, "Oh, and Neekto… " She looks hesitant to admit her feelings, "Thank you for your warning before."

Turtle bows her head again, scowling at the floor.

Leeta peers into the chamber, looking for the things her master sent her for, and any occupants. Seeing the two, she tries to enter as discretely as possible, heading for the table with the bottle and glasses.

The crow bobs his head. "It is my pleasure to serve you, Inquisitrix. I … " He turns in time to see Leeta. "*KAW!*" He flaps his wings in alarm.

Turtle gasps, looking from the crow to the door he's gawking at.

Leeta flinches, and grabs the bottle and the glasses quickly.

Leeta turns, heading for the door, but not before Inquisitrix Turtle gets a good look at her. She is tall for a Savanite, and has king cheetah markings. Most noticeable though, is her flame red hair, and the collar that marks her as Moffat's.

The crow tries to smooth down his feathers, then hmphs. "Well! I suppose Arch Inquisitor Majoris Caesar Moffat wasn't planning on leaving the wine with his compliments ANYWAY. Saves me the trouble… "

Turtle twists her mouth wryly.

Turtle watches the slave. "I pity her."

The crow says without thinking, "Why?" He clicks his beak, though, as he can easily think of several reasons.

Leeta sprints out the doorway, vanishing as quickly as she arrived.

The crow looks back to Turtle, then caws, "I will leave you be, then. If you need anything, don't hesitate to ask." His expression, though, betrays that he really hasn't any notion of how he could prove to be useful in a situation like this.

Turtle sighs and nods, wondering just what the crow must think. "Thank you."

The crow bows his head. "A good evening, Inquisitrix." And with that, he waddles back out into the corridor, pausing to slide the door shut behind him.

Turtle looks around the room, then decides that solitude might not be such a good idea after all. She quietly slips out of the room, and spends the rest of the afternoon wandering around the Temple. Just wandering…