Jezebel, also known as Third-Vision, also known as Third-Eye, also known as the Priest-King (or Priest-Queen, depending upon your translation) reclines upon several satiny black cushions, adorned in silky robes of purple rather than her regal attire from the Grand Audience Chamber. She looks up as the Wooden Shekel is ushered into the oddly-constructed 'room'.

The burglar shuffles into the chambers. His profile looks a little more relaxed, feeling a little more at home in darker and more confined surroundings. His scales go from the tan colour he's held during most of the ceremonies to a pleasantly mellow blue, with tiny white speckles. "Thank you for seeing me, O Priest-King," he signs, bowing at the waist.

Jezebel nods, and gestures to a selection of cushions. "You are welcome. Please, make yourself comfortable."

The reptile seats himself, leaving room for the Savanite accompanying him to do so as well. "As your time is valuable, Your Highness, I'll be to-the-point. As you probably know, we of the Dusty Tear do not yet have formal relations with your government. From what we have seen, we'd be delighted to change that, but Weeping-Blue, our shaman, has expressed reservations about this."

Jezebel nods at this. "Yours is not the only tribe with such reservations. Within a day's journey, the tribe of my very own sister resides. While she is welcome in the City, her tribe is yet independent and owes no allegiance to any but its own chieftain. But I believe that it is in the interests of our people to have a unified front against those who would enslave us."

" Exactly my thoughts, O Priest-King," affirms the inwardly pleased shiga, whose spots turn a brilliant green. "Not only on principle, but on strategy should the sovereignty of you nation be built upon quelling conflicts amongst ourselves. We hope that this enlightened viewpoint will factor into your response to our request for… aid." There's a brief reluctance on the last word-sign.

Jezebel raises an eyebrow. "Please continue," she signs.

The sound of heavy hoof-steps echo through the chamber as a dark figure makes its way down the narrow walkway towards the center disc.

Jezebel, distracted from her guest, looks up at the new visitor with a querying expression.

The shiga's hands flutter. "Like others, the Dusty Tear have suffered predation by slave caravans. I'm sure that if every tribe were to ask for help freeing their members, you'd never get out of your audience chamber. However, in the two years that I've been away from the Tear, I've managed to discover the whereabouts of all our lost tribesmen. Unfortunately, due to some unforeseen circumstances, I can no longer reach them, at least, not by conventional means. I have however," The reptile makes a sign for emphasis on the word 'have'. "have managed to gather resources tha tcan be put toward freeing my fellows. My hope is that you may know of some connections, some network, some way for me to be able to get my friends home through. Any diplomatic connections in Rephidim, or less official organizations… " Occupied with his pleas, the Wooden Shekel doesn't notice who approaches.

Jezebel nods. "We are working on such means. Our bargaining position is at this time very … unstable … but the Twelve are unified in our ultimate goal – the demand that all nations we have dealings with recognize Savanites as a free people – not slaves."

The figure pauses, executes a quick bow and then sidesteps off of the ramp, seeming to vanish completely in the darkness… perhaps even sacrificing itself to the abyss. A few moments later the figure reappears from nowhere and steps onto the center disk.

Jezebel distracts herself from Bambridge and signs to the 'blinking' figure, "Looking for something?"

From somewhere in the darkness, there is an echoing voice that sounds faintly like a giggle. Definitely not a Savanite.

"My pardons… Enos ran in here I thinks," Zoltan… now revealed signs. "You not seen him, have you?"

Jezebel shakes her head. "No, but that sounds like Pouncer." She smirks.

The Wooden Shekel begins to reply, but looks up, squinting at the shadowy figure. "Baron Cambrios! You know, I was meaning to catch up to you."

The hippogryph looks between the Shiga and Third-Eye. "Kids… " his ears wiggle. "It's Cambio… hrrr… you here on business for Faraon?" he asks the reptile.

Jezebel's ears flick at the mention of Faraon, but she otherwise does not look surprised. Perhaps she already knows about that story…

"Oh! Cambio, right, heh, heh." The reptile's greenish spots creep around over their field of blue. "No, no… my business with Faraon is finished for a while. I'm on something of a vacation. Ah, but forget all that! Congratulations on the accolades you received! You can't imagine how surprised I was to see you during the ceremony! My eyes just about bulged right out of the holes in my mask."

A small disembodied spotted tail materializes a stone's throw away, hovering over the bottomless drop off the edge of the platform. It thrashes back and forth, then pops back into nothingness again.

Zoltan looks about, trying to place the source of the giggle. "Thank you… but I only doing whats a friend would do for another friend. I must say… I as equally surprised to see you here."

The Wooden Shekel laughs, his markings bobbling in place before returning to swimming over the shiga's skin. "It's been a parade of familiar but unexpected faces out here. Feli, you, that insane Exile… it's getting to where I half expect S'Lezan to show up and say he's been running an Underground right under my nose for the past two years."

Another familiar and unexpected face pops up – or, that is, a kittenish grin, without a kitten attached. Then, a kittenish face, complete with spots, appears. The little spotted boy lets out an alarmed squeal as the rest of it appears as well, hovering above open space. It doesn't seem to be scared at all of the prospect of falling, but rather of being spotted by the hippogryph.

Zoltan tries another approach, he slowly swishes his tail left and right… letting the little baubles he's tied up in the strands clatter and glint off the light. He doesn't seem to have noticed the kitten… not one little bit, nope. "Ahem… hrr, I notice that too. But life sometimes surprise you in interesting ways… and it often run in circles. From all I see, I learn to never take things advantage anymores."

The kitten boy recovers, appearing certain that, somehow, he's still invisible after all. He drops down, nearly on all fours, and advances, as if stalking prey. There's a whisper from the darkness, and a paw materializes, tugging on his tail … but he simply hisses back at the paw and continues his advance.

The shiga continues in his pleasant conversation, his eyes tracking the kitten creeping along. "Well, such is the way it goes, Baron. At least they're all pleasant surprises… and in my business, you take pleasant surprises when you can get them. Are you… ah, returning to Rephidim soon?"

Jezebel frowns slightly at this question.

The shiga's spots freeze, and wink out. In wringing his paws, he's unable to sign with them. "I… uh… I'm sorry, did I overstep my bounds? I meant no offense, I was just… considering something."

The Vartan sobers a bit, sitting down on a cushion and folding his hands together in his lap. "I no sure. I still gots my shoppe that needs tending… and children going to need to go back to they classes soon. But I gots business elsewhere, there a bully that I want to take care of before I leave."

"Bully? Is there anything I can do to help, Baron?" The somewhat discomfitted reptile shifts uneasily.

Jezebel signs, "We have a curious situation here. Enos and Pouncer are Prince and Princess in this palace, yet they are your children, Baron. I will miss them greatly." She looks up to the Vartan.

Zoltan looks to the Savanite queen, as if asking permission to speak about something.

Jezebel's ears flick, but then she nods. "The name of 'Necropolis' has been mentioned in court this very day by the Exile. It is no secret."

The Wooden Shekel looks on curiously, little slivers of green cautiously beginning to creep back into the blue.

"Hrrr… exile talks too much. It do no good for word of you enemies to be heard by those who may be trying to learn of them." Zoltan's eyes fall back upon the Shiga. "She done much harm to my family and friends… I been training to fight her and rid Sinai of her once and for all."

Jezebel smirks, "Which, the Exile, or Ne – " She sobers, frowning. "I am sorry. It is not a subject for levity."

"If I'd known, I wouldn't have rescued her from the tavern in Darkside… oh, wait, you mean… " At Jezebel's signed remark, the Wooden Shekel loosens his cloak around his neck. "So, this Necropolis… thing. What is she? It? I heard mention in the audience chamber, and was confused."

The Vartan's tail flicks side to side a bit more, causing an eerie ringing echo through the chamber. "You speaks better than I do, Third-Eye… it probablies best if you explain."

Third-Vision sits back, paying no attention to the cub that is about to pounce Zoltan's tail, or the second cub about to grab the first. "Necropolis, Amenlichtli … It or she or they are known by many names. The matter of identity is greatly blurred. Legends speak of an ancient time during the height of the Savanite Empire, a time when only our people had mastery of magic on Sinai … at least, the only mastery on our continent to be known of."

"A great many misconceptions have been shattered by Savanite magicks in the past weeks," hisses the reptile, nodding. "Go on."

Jezebel continues, "Back in those days, there were many races that are not to be found today. Many of them were felines – sub-types of the Khatta and Kattha – who had spots. They were not Savanites, and could speak with their tongues. Some tried to better their standing by masquerading as Savanites. Katthas had a better chance at it, having a digitigrade leg stance, but even a clever Khatta might try such a ruse."

The lizard tries to picture this, with only a little difficulty. His markings congeal into spots again, and begin inching around once more as he thinks.

The Priest-King narrates, "One such Khatta was known to the speakers as Amenlichtli. She was shrewd, and by seduction and deception, managed to learn the ways of magic. There were others who had done so before her, and they had collaborated in a secret society that had discovered a way to use magic without ritual or dance, without such preparations that were not so easily concealed, but by mutterings and incantations in places of secret. She became especially powerful among these, attaining heights that are unheard of even in our present day, mastering several Spheres, including those of Dream, Spirit and Life."

Zoltan looks sideways at his own cubs, and then glances away again. He doesn't want to think of his children as being the children of a monster.

Magic is less understood to him, but the shiga assumes it must be difficult to learn more than one of those magic circle thingies. He nods slowly.

"The tales vary and conflict, but she gained a following, perhaps presenting herself as a Marked Savanite who had been given the gift of speech … or perhaps openly revealing her species and rallying more of her kind around her. In any case, her following turned into a rebellion, and it was mercilessly but not easily crushed. So great was the fear among the priesthood that drastic measures were undertaken to make sure this would not happen again. All Khattas and Katthas with spots were to be purged. None would be mistaken for a Savanite ever again," Jezebel signs.

The reptile's brow ridges scrunch together, but he withholds comment.

"The stories don't end there. Amenlichtli is said to have either escaped with some of her followers across the sea, or to have risen from the dead, or to have been reanimated by one of her followers. In any case, the escaped rebels were to have founded a colony across the sea, living under the shield of a Forbidden Zone, protecting them from the scrying spells of even the most powerful of mages, and thwarting pursuit. She built Necropolis, the City of the Dead, and is said in these ghost stories to still reign there over a populace of corpses to this very day," Jezebel concludes.

"The Savanite empire… despite kindness you seen and gotten from you friends was no as pleasant as many think it was." Zoltan signs, reading the lizard's expression, "Cruel as it may sound. The old Priest-King was no a kind man… and many of the Twelve-Times-Twelve still look down upon speaking people in same way some look down in Savanites. Those days is over… but past doomed to repeat itself if it no remembered for what it was."

Jezebel nods and frowns. "Let no finger-wiggles be made of this in open places, but my own advisors are not in total agreement. Some are under the delusion that the old Empire can rise again, and they saw me as the key to that goal. Before the Baron here showed me the error of my ways," she dips her head a bit, "that was indeed my intention as well."

"By the Serpent's fangs… " breathes the Wooden Shekel. He continues in sign. "There's no nation that hasn't had some sort of ugliness in its past. The Empire won't admit it, but it has a seamy side as well. I've lived in the seamier side of Rephidim. It does my heart some good to see that you're leading along the right path, and I'm sure it'll show in your own empire's prosperity. But this Amenlichtli… thing." He looks incredulously at Zoltan. "This thing really exists? And it's been hounding your family?!"

Zoltan manages to squeak out a smile. "Cruelty begets cruelty… kindness begets kindness. If anyone in whole world know that, Third-Eye… it me."

Jezebel feels at her throat, nodding at the Wooden Shekel's question.

Narrowing his eyes, the hippogryph nods as well. "She possess my daughter's mind every so often… I think she do it just because she know that it frighten and anger me. My anger always been my greatest weakness."

"Well then," hisses the shiga, crossing his arms. His scales turn a fiery orange. "We can't have some disgusting remnant of the old world snapping at the new empire's heels, now can we? What preparations have you made for dealing with this threat? In the off chance that I can, I will assist in my own small way."

Jezebel signs, "I believe she must have an 'avatar' in Rephidim. I have learned more about this, piecing it together from what I have been told by the Twelve-times-Twelve, by Zoltan, and even by a Nordikan prince. Her power is unsurpassed, but even it has its limitations. In order to have a presence in an area, she must have a physical manifestation."

Zoltan raises his head, which had slowly been slumping lower and lower. "Why woulds you help me? You barely knows me, Wooden Shekel. And you not know how powerful this enemy is."

Jezebel smiles. "No offense, but I think the Wooden Shekel may be trying to curry favor with me, to get assistance for his tribe."

The shiga wags his index claw. "Nonsense. This is the very thing we discussed about unity, O Priest King. If I'm not willing to help for the greater good of my brethren, regardless of tribe or standing, than what business do I have of asking help in return?"

Meanwhile, Pouncer and Enos appear to have collapsed in a spotted pile beside Zoltan, predatorially eyeing his 'shinies'.

Jezebel nods. "Well put, Wooden Shekel."

"An avatar… " the Vartan considers. "Perhaps that what she impersonated Moon-Brow with." He gives his head a shake and slowly starts inching his tail sideways. "I can share with you whats I know about the witch, Shiga… but I seen her and her followers. She can make you nightmares come true… or give you new ones."

Two cubs track Zoltan's tail.

"It sounds like you require an assembly of mages," muses the Wooden Shekel, rubbing his jaw thoughtfully. His bright salamander orange begins slowly deepening into red, on its way back to blue, like cooling metal. "I don't know the details of what the muttering old men would want or need, but I know they can be bought."

Zoltan winces, "Magic against magic, I no likes it." Old habits die hard…

Jezebel signs, "I am grateful for the wards of the Spirit mages amongst the Twelve times Twelve … but in all, I do not think magic is the solution. I must agree with the Baron in this. My magic gave me no protection. This is beyond simple spell-casting. Necropolis harnesses the power of a Forbidden Zone, it is believed."

The reptile scratches his chin thoughtfully. "I always thought it took magic to kill magic," he hisses. "I know for certain that you can't kick it, stab it, or roll it up in a carpet and hurl it off the docks. But what, then? This avatar you mention, Your Highness… how can it be approached?"

"That what I been trying to learn for many months now." the Vartan scrawks. "Most of whats I learn is superstition."

"As with all things magic … 'it depends'." Jezebel shakes her head. "The Spheres vary in their strengths, and their weaknesses are not always by magic. I specialize in the Sphere of Shadow. While the schools of magic teach that the Spheres are distinct, they cannot always agree upon how many Spheres there are, or what they are. The Sphere of Shadow deals in darkness … in invisibility and concealment … but I can also conjure up creatures fashioned of shadow to send to scout out for me. Some would say I infringe upon the Sphere of Spirit, or the Sphere of Scrying, except that I cannot do the job as well as one specifically of that field."

Zoltan nods his head, "And I learned that if I focus… sometimes magic no work on me… or I find that I gots to be willing for it to works for it to have any effect on me. I no sure if this because I been training or because I just been exposed to magic for so long."

"Then perhaps you need to approach this fell creature on more than one front?" suggests the reptile. He gestures at Zoltan with a bony paw. "No matter how much training and arms expertise you can bring to bear, Zoltan, mortal force doesn't seem to have helped the old world Savanites. According to the Her Highness, magicks alone have no effect on Amenhitltepwhatsihoozits. Perhaps both forces need to be merged in some way. Baron Cambio, perhaps meeting with and dealing with some mages can strengthen your resistance. Or perhaps separate… Spheres did you call them? Spheres can be used to deflect specific assaults from the witch."

Jezebel nods. "There are sometimes mundane ways to resist. Many shadow spells can be resisted by talismans of combinations of herbs, or barricades fashioned of certain types of wood – such as thistlebark. Warpwood is said to have properties against or for magic, but no one can seem to agree upon exactly what." She fingers a staff perched nearby, fashioned of twisted slats of wood with a glassy orb atop it, within which a star seems to glow of its own light.

The lizard bobs his head agreeably. "Good, good… so some inanimate devices can be used as well, then? All the better, a third line of attack. In fact!" The Wooden Shekel snaps his fingers. "I may have left something in Rephidim that could help. Granted, I don't know exactly what the thing is… but I st-… er, procured it from a group of spirit mages that used it in some strange ritual to control… ghosts, for lack of a better word."

"Ghosts?" echoes Jezebel in sign.

"I know that killing Avatar no help… I do that once already. She went up in great fire… and laughed entire time." Zoltan says… idly pulling a shiny glass marble out of his pocket and rolling it across the floor. "I been learning techniques that – ghosts!!?"

Pouncer mews, "Amaranth!"

Jezebel's ears flick.

"It was a very strange occurrence in the Old City of Rephidim, Baron. Your Highness." The reptile leans back, and holds himself up on his paws as he remembers. "A group called the Sixth Kadam convened to raise Dagh in the old cemetery, by attempting to sacrifice a weird-looking Nohbakim with a taste in horrid shirts. I didn't want this happening in my neighborhood."

The cubs toy with Zoltan's tail-baubles.

Jezebel signs, "Are you certain they were mages, or merely superstitious cultists?"

Zoltan peers over at Pouncer. "What you say?"

"I'm not certain either way, Your Highness," hisses the Wooden Shekel, tapping his nose. "But I leaned toward the former notion when every spectre in the soil came popping up and making faces. I took the leader's staff, and that seemed to get the spirits' collective attention. The Sixth Kadam fled, the ghosts returned to their rest, and I ended up with a sparkly bauble I didn't know what to do with."

Pouncer smiles and holds up a bauble (and the attached tail) as if she'd just discovered something new. "Shiny!"

The Wooden Shekel tilts his head to the size. "Mmmm… kind of like that, cubling… only green. And about as big as my fist."

Zoltan gets up, picks up Pouncer and holds her in his lap, his ears flatten against his head. "You thinks these people is servants of Necropolis?"

Jezebel signs, "It would seem like a fair lead."

The shiga shrugs helplessly. "I really don't know… but there's a good chance that even if they aren't, they'd know something. With all the 'I sense this,' and 'I sense that' mumbo-jumbo you see mages doing, you'd think something like Necropolis would be a smack in the face."

Jezebel signs, "I am not so certain. The nature of Necropolis, it would seem, is one of mystery, such that she could even operate in a city with a whole college of mages and remain merely a legend."

The Vartan nuzzles his beak into Pouncer's hair. "I think that perhaps I should return to Rephidim then." He looks over to the Shiga, "Could you take me to place where this happen? Maybe they return… "

Pouncer kicks her feet back and forth from her perch in Zoltan's lap.

The Wooden Shekel 'hmmms' through his long nose. "Disturbing, if that's the case." He looks over at the Vartan. "In all likelihood, I could, Baron. However, I'm … not welcome in Rephidim. However, there is a mutual friend of ours who knows the way. Feli Kurai. I'm not sure where he is now, though. Aaron Lightfoot, the Apothecary, is another. And that bizarre five-tailed Nohbakim."

Zoltan gently loosens his grip on the cub. "Not welcome?"

Jezebel signs, "The Kurai family has left for Rephidim with the Temple delegation. They should have arrived there by now."

The shiga rubs the back of his neck uneasily. "Well, there's this barricade against shigai and Nagai at the Rephidim ports. It might be gone by now, but I'm still… not welcome back there."

"Could you gives me directions to this spot then? I no going to force you into dangerous situation… Necropolis dangerous enough on she own." the hippogryph gives the cub's head another fuzzle with his beak and then he playfully flicks at her ear with a finger.

Pouncer giggles, then bats at the 'offending' finger.

The reptile nods, taking a small scrap of parchment from somewhere in his cloak. He wiggles his fingers, and a charcoal pencil seems to sprout from his wrist, or maybe somewhere behind it. He speaks while he draws. "The graveyard is walled in along the edge of Old City, a stone's throw from Darkside. Just follow this line from the Craftsman's Quarter, and it'll take you in. The altar was… eh, it's hard to remember precisely where in the graveyard the altar was. It was dark, and there were… spooks."

Jezebel signs, "What do you mean by 'spooks'? Can you describe them?"

The Priest-King listens to the directions, then signs, "Is that very close to the Babelite Embassy?"

"Uhmmm… well, they looked like these flying skeletal things," hisses the lizard, tapping the end of his nose with his pencil. "Like the upper half was there, and you could barely see the flesh around it. Then, from about the waist down, they degenerated into tatters and… and… stuff," he finishes lamely.

"Flying… skeletons… " Zoltan croaks and shakes his head. "Must be Necropolis… I remember guardian monster from Paradys. Luckily I fly better than it do."

The Wooden Shekel nods as he draws a crude stick figure of a graveyard spectre by the map. "As a matter of fact, it is. Right around where old Boney here is pointing."

Drumming his fingers, the Vartan ponders. "What did 'spirit mages' you see look like? everyone I see that serve Necropolis is half mad… "

The region indicated isn't really all that far, either, from the Asylum, given that the Asylum is nestled in a nook in the border of the Old Graveyard, and within range of the scattered sewer accesses that are rumored to be used more than oft by Darksiders (and certain unlucky black Khattas) rather than Sewer Maintenance teams.

Looking up from his work, the burglar shrugs at Zoltan. "Could have been Necropolis, but it was a long time ago. Before New Year's. What did they look like? Well, the leader was a tall Cervani fellow, wearing all white. He had a commanding presence. The others seemed less sure, but they were dressed the same, and following his directions."

Jezebel nods, signing, "White is the color of the Sphere of Spirit, in the Collegia Esoterica scheme."

Zoltan hands the cub in his lap another marble from his pocket… this one is made from amber and has a small bug trapped inside of it. "You saying that these people could be from college? Hr… they probably gots no idea what they doing. Even more people Necropolis is using."

Pouncer SQUEALS at the curiosity, and peers intently at the bauble, holding it up close to her crossed eyes.

"They seemed sure of themselves, right up to the point where all the underworld broke loose." The charcoal pencil vanishes somehow, and the shiga slides the paper toward Zoltan. "The staff with its green crystal is still in Lightfoot's Apothecary. You can probably get it if you tell him 'Woody' sent you. With my newfound resources, I can probably also scout out other materials or personnelfor you. Faraon's job was… profitable."

Zoltan accepts the map and begins collecting his cubs and the various scattered toys. "I thank you for you help, Wooden Shekel. That two favors I owe you now, you know who to call if you ever need help."

Jezebel leans over, giving each of the cubs a good night kiss. Enos barely responds, being about to fall asleep anyway, and flopping about in Zoltan's grasp.

The Wooden Shekel dusts his paws off. "Think nothing of it, Baron Cambio! That settles that. Keep me updated on any needs you may have. I will be remaining in the Savan for a while, and afterwards in the Nagai Empire. Perhaps while I am here, I can help the Priest King with this conundrum… in the meantime, since you'll be on the sky island, I may send a few minor, minor requests that you could probably do at your leisure… ah, but nevermind that."

The Vartan arches an eyebrow, and then smiles warmly. "Just as long as it not something that keep me from no being welcome in Rephidim either." He bows again to Third-Eye, just slightly jostling the cubs, and then steps off into the darkness… vanishing completely.