(OOC) Tue Apr 14 1998 05:00 PM by "Greywolf3" -->

"Powdered Aeonian horn!" shouts an Eeee hawker from one booth. "Come, COME! Drink of the elixir of ETERNAL YOUTH!" beckons a cowled figure, presumably a Khatta. "For only a few shekels!" the Khatta quickly adds.

"Genuine hide of shelwhal," hisses a Nagai merchant, showing a chitinous piece to a Vartan customer. "Is that what you're looking for?" asks a Kavi, prompting his Skeek customer to look the other way, as he deftly reaches out, and brings his paw back in, a glint of something shiny catching the light just before he pockets it.

Jonas finds himself in a less-reputable part of the Bazaar than before. The streets are narrower, the shadows deeper. He watches the other furres carefully, trying to get a feel for the people of his new home. A feel that he will need, if he is to remain true to himself and his oath to the Black Watch.

(Well, these stalls sounds exotic enough to have what Haskalah wants this time,) Francisco muses as he wanders into this particular area of the Bazaar – one he can't recall visiting before. He pauses for a moment to pick a stall, and eventually walks towards the stall with the cowled merchant.

The cowled merchant, although her eyes are not visible, inclines her head toward Francisco. "Yes? May I help you?" The scents of the herbs and potions from her booth reach the vulpine, a strange combined scent that assaults him like a mixture of flowery perfumes and medicines.

A Rhian and a Jupani skirt along the booths, not really paying much interest to any of the wares … though occasionally the Rhian notices something, elbows the Jupani beside them, and they both chuckle … then move on.

The five-tailed fox shrugs as he walks up to the stall. "I hope so, as I've been unsuccesful in finding what I'm after so far. I don't suppose you might have any 'Eye of Waashu', would you?" he asks.

Francisco adds, "Or might know where I could find some."

"Why, certainly, young one. There is no limit to the extent of my collection. Not only can I provide for you the eye of a waashu, but the cure to a broken heart as well. Do you suffer from love unreturned?" The cowled merchant carries on as she searches through her racks of threaded dried herbs and stoppered flasks.

The Rhian and Jupani stop muttering amongst themselves as they pass the large ursine, suddenly going silent … and moving past the large imposing figure at just a pace quicker.

Jonas eyes the veritable melting pot of species. As mixed as Auslin's markets, or even more so. Through the crowd a garish flash of color catches his eye. A shirt, like no other shirt he has seen, being worn by a five-tailed fox. Jonas blinks for a moment, brow furrowed in thought, and then strides towards the vulpine.

Shaking his head, the kitsune replies, "Not recently, no."

As he passes through the crowd, Jonas drops a hand to the sporran that hangs from the front of his kilt. Too many thieves walk these streets, and he is no cub on his first trip to a city.

The cowled one finds a jar with something wet-looking and translucent floating within some sort of preservative fluid, and sets it on the counter. 'Well, if ever your heart should be broken, come to me, and it shall be healed." She pushes the jar toward Francisco, then withdraws her black-furred hands back into her long sleeves with a rustle of her robes. "Twenty shekels."

The Rhian and Jupani walk up to the cowled one's booth. Perhaps THEY have broken hearts. One walks up to the counter, just to Francisco's right, while the Jupani stands just behind the five-tailed fox.

Jonas looks past the kitsune from a respectful distance, examining the contents of the apothecary's booth.

Francisco smiles and nods. "I'll remember that." He crouches down a little to inspect this 'eye'. "This really is an 'eye of waashu'?" he checks. "I mean, I'll admit I have no idea of what one is, so if it's wrong, could I return it?"

The cowled one holds up her hands in a gesture of surrender. "If it does not suit you, you may return it, so long as the seal is not broken."

Thieves may walk the streets, but so do blue-robed Sphynxes. This one, wearing the emblem of the Technopriesthood, is searching once again for the supplies that will make the perfect airship model … perfect, at least, until the next one.

Jonas glances up at the Rhian as it approaches. He gives a brief, neutral nod in greeting, and then he looks back at the jars in the booth, squinting in an attempt to read labels or discern contents.

The kitsune's tails swish slightly. "Ah, that's good then. Twenty shekels, yes?"

The cowled one nods. "Yes."

Francisco asks, "I don't suppose I could get a receipt, could I? It's for someone else, you see. Petty cash and the like."

The Rhian snorts, his tail flicking at an insect.

"As you wish," the cowled one says with a bow of her head. She stoops down, and comes back up, holding a scrap of parchment and a charcoal pencil … and scribbles down some notes with a physician's handwriting.

The cowled one stops writing, though, turning her shadowed muzzle upward expectantly to Francisco. "Twenty shekels."

The exile puts a paw into his pocket, and picks through the coins there, and also finds his 'shopping list'. "Oops, almost forgot."

"I need to get something else as well. 'Graveyard dirt'?" the Kitsune asks the cowled Khatta.

Jonas looks over the five-tailed fox while patiently waiting for him to finish his business. The wardrobe is not what he would expect, but the tails are too obvious to miss.

The cowled one replies, "Alas, but graveyard dirt loses its potency shortly after being removed. After all, how much dust blows across the graveyard each day? Surely every speck of dirt on Sinai has blown across a grave at least once. No, you shall have to find your own. I am ever so sorry."

Buran wanders down the street, examining a rather large sheet of paper, upon which she's sketched an airship. From time to time, she pauses to look into stalls and shops, asking questions of the merchants.

At the mention of such an odd substance, Jonas grunts in confusion. What would anyone want with graveyard dirt? It's no better than any other type of dirt. Worse than some, actually.

Nodding, the Kitsune hands over the coins to the merchant, and picks up his 'eye' and receipt.

The Rhian snorts. "About bloody time."

Jonas glances up at the Rhian briefly. As the fox turns to go, he steps forward. After clearing his throat, he says, "Yer pardon, sir, but do ye be a … ," he pauses, trying to get the word right, "a 'keetsoonay?'"

Francisco lets out a slight 'yip!' as he almost walks into the bear. He checks his hold on the jar, and looks at Jonas, head cocked slightly. "What if I am?" he asks.

The Rhian steps between Jonas and the fox. "'Xcuse me, but I got business with the 'Keetsoonay' first." The Jupani stands on Francisco's other side.

Jonas looks up at the Rhian. "Do ye now? Business? Well, my business is mere curiosity, Child o' Percheron, and it can wait. By all means, go ahead."

A thought runs through Francisco's head. Demand is not necessarily a good thing. "Oh?" is all he asks for now.

The Rhian smiles smugly. "Much 'bliged." He puts a firm hand on the Kitsune's shoulder. "Now, fellah, let's walk just down the way. I gots a message for ya from an old friend."

Francisco glances over his shoulder at Jonas, but walks along with the Rhian. "An 'old friend'? Who would that be?"

Jonas frowns at the Rhian's manner. Somethin' 'bout this furre brings ol' Matthias Campbell t' mind. He was beheaded fer beatin' a fellow t'death, as I recall. He stands close, just in case the fox has need of assistance.

The Rhian trots along, oblivious to the bear, heading over to an alleyway, where the only visible booth doesn't have any visible merchant or customers. "A very wealthy old friend. And he's got a propo – a propsi – a … uh … He's got a propo – . A good idea."

Jonas follows the trio, moving with more silence than one might expect of such a large being. He is by no means sneaky, merely subdued, compared to the noises of the Bazaar around him.

The kitsune, if not slightly wary already, is now more so. Maybe because the Rhian mentioned 'wealthy', and around here that tends to mean 'noble'. "Go on," he says.

"First, though," the Rhian says, pulling up a piece of cloth, "Ya need to put on this here disguise." He hands the hood to Francisco.

Francisco shakes his head. "Uh-uh. No way am I putting that on," he protests. "Why do I need a 'disguise' anyway."

"Cuz I say so," the horse retorts. "You want shekels, huh?"

The Sphynx pauses in her window-shopping as an airship flies overhead. Quickily, she sketches its design in a corner of the sheet of paper before it can vanish on its way to the docks.

"Money's not everything," the fox replies, and stops walking.

Jonas looks around the Bazaar again, trying to spot any Guards, in case they might be needed. None are within easy sight, but the familiar profile of a gray spotted Sphinx is. He considers calling over, but isn't sure of what she might do to alleviate any unpleasantness. He turns back and surreptitiously watches the trio again.

The Rhian is standing uncomfortably close to the fox now. And the Jupani standing behind Francisco can be heard cracking his knuckles. "That's fine, then," the Rhian snorts. "We can do just fine without it."

Francisco tries to smile sweetly at the Rhian. "Alright, I'll be on my way then… "

Jonas grunts. Aye, that's what I thought.

The Jupani conspicuously blocks Francisco's way back out of the alley.

"Or maybe not," notes the Kitsune. "Who did you say this 'old friend' was again?"

"Eustace," the horse grins.

Jonas takes a cautious step towards the alleyway, moving closer to the Jupani, who seems intent on the situation.

Buran settles down on a straw mat near a food-vendor's booth, filling in details of the initial sketch.

Francisco uh-huhs, not entirely suprised by this.

Francisco glances quickly around looking for any way out at all.

With any dignity, no, but Francisco is a fox!

Jonas ponders an idea. It's not a particularly unusual one, but it's less ugly. He steps around the corner behind the Jupani. "Ye know," he says in a delberately casual manner. "Where I coome from, two on one ain't very proper. 'Course, where I coome from, if'n a fellow has a problem with another fellow, he tells him t' his face. He doon't send other folks t' do it. Now, I understand this ain't where I coome from, but two on one still ain't very proper. So, why doon't ye go tell yer boss t' do his own dirty work, eh?"

"Cuz he's a poodle," the horse answers.

"'Course," he continues, cracking his knuckles, "if'n that doon't please ye, I'm sure we can come t' anoother arrangement." He grins widely, looking down at the Jupani.

The kitsune's ears prick up a little at the sound of possible cavalry, and edge back towards Jonas a little.

The Jupani growls. "Mind own business!" He bares his teeth at Jonas.

"Ah – perhaps I can go away and mind my own?" Francisco offers hopefully.

Jonas's grin gets even wider. "Ye should watch who ye bare yer choppers t', lad. It'll be hard t' chew yer supper when ye ain't got 'em anymore."

The wolf growls louder … then charges Jonas, sweeping his claws out in a most undisciplined manner.

Francisco steps aside quickly as the Jupani charges past him.

Jonas sidesteps the charge, and grabs the lupine. With a single continuous motion, he brings the Jupani around and slams him into the alley wall.

The Rhian makes a grab for Francisco, but fails to nab the dextrous vulpine.

The sound of the slam (and the accompanying grunt) isn't lost on Buran's sensitive ears. Pocketing her pencil and paper, she rises from the mat and moves toward the sounds. As common as this may be in the Bazaar, she is a healer…

Jonas steps away from the slammed Jupani. He sighs, and says, "Lupus' children never were the brightest lot." He looks up at the Rhian. "Ye kin walk away, Child o' Percheron. Yer choice."

Francisco edges back a little more, trying to make it out of the alley while the Jupani is 'occupied', keeping an eye on the Rhian as he does so.

The Rhian grunts, looking quite severe … and then glances over to the prone Jupani. "You'll pay for this," he threatens.

Jonas lets Francisco pass, then steps back away from the alley. "More 'n likely," he agrees. "But it's expected. Take yer friend and git."

The horse gives Jonas an impotent glare, then grabs up the limp form of the Jupani and drags him away.

Jonas shakes his head as he watches the retreating pair. "Thugs," he grunts. "Why dooes no one ever do their own business?"

The kitsune watches them leave, and looks over to Jonas. "I take it you've never heard of Eustace the Useless then?"

"But you have my extreme thanks for you assistance there," Francisco adds with a smile.

Jonas snorts in amusement. "Noot by that title, no. And think naught o' it; it's a Watcher's duty t' help others."

Jonas says, "Now, at the risk o' repeatin' meself, would ye be a keetsoonay?"

Buran ducks and weaves her way through the ever-present Bazaar crowd, managing to make her way to the Rhian and his furred … cargo. "Excuse me," she says politely, "but may I be of help?" She tilts her head toward the Jupani.

Francisco nods in response, certainly not being as evasive as before. "Yes, I certainly am. You know of the Kitsune then?"

The Rhian looks to Buran … then back to the bear who isn't all that far away. "'Bliged, but … I gotta go." He keeps dragging the wolf. The wolf whimpers.

The Templar in blue ponders this, and ponders that whimper. She follows the pair, this time addressing the Jupani directly. "Sir! Are you injured?"

Jonas's grin appears again, but this one is much friendlier. He steps back, plants his feet wide, and bows low before the kitsune. "Koneetcheewah, keetsoonay-san. Watasheee wah Jonas des." His Nipponese is badly accented, and colored by his own Highlander lilt.

The wolf responds, "Owwwwww."

"Your friend needs help, sir," Buran presses the Rhian. "Please, let me help. I am a healer." The five-pointed gear pendant she wears proves this, though it's doubtful the Rhian would know.

The Rhian gives no further protest, and simply dumps the Jupani … and makes haste away from the scene. The Jupani grunts and doesn't go anywhere.

The Kitsune smiles and bows to Jonas, and replies to the Watcher in Japanese, Good afternoon to you, Jonas. I am honored to meet you and have you help me.

Jonas straightens up as Francisco replies. He catches about the first word or so, and then is totally lost. "Uhh … yer pardon, sir, but while I have met Easterners before, in particular, one o' yer brethren, I doon't speak much Nipponese." He grins, abashedly. "As a matter o' fact, that's aboout all I know."

The winged Khatta kneels beside the Jupani. "What happened?"

Francisco chuckles slightly. "Basically, I said that I was pleased to meet you and thank you again for helping me out," he explains.

The Jupani says, "Crunch."

Jonas says, "As I said, think naught o' it. But, p'raps we shoould find somewhere t' moove on to. If'n I ken that Child o' Perch, he'll probably be roundin' up a number o' his lads, t' come back 'n' pound on me. And, noot that I didn't enjoy the exercise, but I doon't fancy a pile-on, if'n ye ken.""

Buran sets about examining the Jupani, finding many cuts, bruises, and similar minor injuries. After dressing as many of them as she can with the minimal field supplies that fit beneath her Temple robes, Buran places a small handkerchief into his hand. "For your nose," she explains. "I don't see anything too severe; can you walk?"

The fox cocks his head a little to the side, and then nods. "Probably best, yes. Let's go."

The Jupani answers by struggling up to his feet. "Thanka," he says … and makes to stumble away.

As Francisco starts to walk off with the bear, he asks him, "What did you mean a 'Child of Perch' anyway?"

Jonas says, "A Child o' Percheron. The First Horse, and Patron o' Workers."

Jonas says, "So, how did an Easterner sooch as yerself find yerself here. I was told, by the last keetsoonah that I met, that ye were fairly powerful sorcerors."

Somehow, to Francisco, this belief doesn't seem to fit in with what he's seen so far on this world, and since he knew that he was a Kitsune… "You wouldn't happen to be an Exile also, would you?"

Jonas nods. "Aye. By that Temple's census, I am."

Buran lets the Jupani go, but calls after him, "Be careful! Don't get into any more fights for at least a week!"

The Jupani just whimpers as he limps away.

The kitsune nods. "I was wondering as much. Also, yes – you are right about the Kitsune – most of us are fairly adept with magic."

Jonas says, "Aye, that's what he said. Even showed off a few trick, if'n I recall right. 'Course, 't didn't make the hosts particularly happy, havin' their minstrels spun aboout the ballroom, but the rest o' the guests liked it. Interestin' fellow. "

The healer watches the Jupani as he melts back into the crowd, hoping he'll be more careful next time (but then, considering Jupani… it's anyone's guess.) Her bright blue eyes scan the crowd; Francisco's brightly-colored shirt reminds her of her own errand. Perhaps paint that garishly bright is to be had in that direction, and so Buran walks that way.

Francisco chuckles a little, and nods. "That sounds like it could well have been a Kitsune who did that, yeah."

Jonas says, "Well, 't weren't no Child o' Vulpes, not with four tails poking out o' that robe he was wearin'."

Jonas blinks, realizing something. "Ye know, I doon't think I got yer name, sir. Ye know mine, or at least part o' it. Jonas MacAlister o' the Black Watch, at yer service."

The fox perks an ear again. "'Child o' Vulpes'? I take it you mean a normal fox?"

Francisco looks pensive for a moment, but replies, "You can call me Francisco – that's as in 'San'"

The Sphynx stops at a booth hawking frozen confections, though she unobtrusively watches the kitsune. That shirt is rather eye-catching, and certainly she's never seen anything like it before – except once. It's still as striking a sight now as it was then. How curious. She also spots a paint-seller nearby, mentally making a note to stop there.

Jonas sounds the name out. "Fransisko. Hmm, unusual, but no moreso than … oh, what was it he called himself … 'Heejeeko' or somesuch like that. Is 'San' yer given name, then, 'n' Fransisko yer clan?"

"It's just Francisco," the Kitsune replies. "And the name of the Kitsune you met is not one that I recall."

Francisco adds as they walk along, "In fact, if you don't mind me asking. You speak of this Hijiko as if he was out in the open?"

Jonas keeps pace with the kitsune as they walk through the Bazaar. Occasionally, his gaze drifts up and away to watch someone briefly or to check for thieves. "Well," he says. "He was part o' the Nipponese envoy t' the Empire. Seemed t' be some sort o' advisor t' the ambassador. Never met the ambassador, but I think he was supposed t' be a Child o' Wyrm."

Jonas says, "And aye, he seemed quite open 'bout it. Proud, even. Why?"

Buran absently licks the last of her snack from its stick as she crosses to the paint-seller's booth, some distance in front of Francisco and Jonas. Her mind ponders that shirt… where has she seen it before?

Francisco's brow furrows a little. This doesn't sound like talk of the world he knew. "I can't say that I'm familiar with this Empire of which you speak, but we Kitsune, at least where I come from, prefer to keep who we are hidden from others."

Jonas shrugs. "I doon't know 'bout that. Heejeeko seemed pretty comfortable out in the open. P'raps Nippon is more comfortable fer yer kind?

The five-tailed fox shakes his head. "Not that I've heard."

Jonas stops and looks at Francisco. "Ye ken Nippon? The Eastern archipelago?"

Stopping also, Francisco looks at the bear with a confused look. It would appear that he does not.

Jonas repeats himself. "Do ye ken o' Nippon? Ye sound like ye do, since ye speak the tongue. Are ye not from there?"

"Uh… no," Francisco says. "You seem to know of Kitsune, but those that you describe seem to … differ from what I am."

"It's slightly unsettling," he adds.

Jonas shrugs. "We're all different. 'S the way o' things." He gestures across the Bazaar towards the figure of Buran. "T' me, that is the very image o' Felis, Mistress o' Beauty and Grace, First o' the Cats. Ye kin guess how she took that."

Francisco looks to where the bear is indicating, and recognises the technopriestess. "It's not, though. I believe that she's a medic or nurse from the Temple they have here."

Jonas says, "Aye. We've met, 'n' I learned that the hard way, I'm afraid."

The so-called 'First of the Cats' (so some thought) haggles energetically with the paint merchant over the price of some astonishingly rich turquoise-blue paint and some faux metal sheeting. For the moment, her interest is intensely focused on the deal at hand, for the merchant seems to be gaining the upper hand.

Jonas says, "But, my point is, that the Mother made each o' us different. Sometimes that's welcome, 'n' sometimes not. Ye ken?"

The exile fox nods, "I believe so, yes."

Jonas says, "So. Yer not from Nippon. That's unfortunate. I was hoping I had found someone else who knew o' my home, the Highlands. Ah well."

Francisco shakes his head. "Sorry to disappoint you. However, if it's any help – meeting people from your own world is not necessarily as nice as the prospect might seem." he notes, remembering his meetings with Amaranth.

Jonas considers this. "P'raps. I kin think o' a few that I would rather not see again." He begins walking again, closing the distance between himself and the technopriestess.

The kitsune follows alongside the bear, nodding. As they approach Buran, he smiles and raises a paw to wave 'hi there!'

Jonas says, "Grace upon ye, Healer. How fare ye this day?"

"No! As gorgeous as that shade of blue may be, it's not worth twenty shekels per jar! I believe I could find comparable shades down on Rephidim Way for nine! But since you've given me an excellent deal on these faux-silver sheets, I'll give you twelve per jar." Buran might finally be making headway. She's so involved in bargaining that Jonas' greeting startles her, causing a gray feather to fall to the ground.

The feather's former owner doesn't notice its departure as she turns to face Jonas. "Oh! Hello!" She slips the already-purchased sheets into a pocket. "The people one meets in the Bazaar… " she adds, and smiles at the bear and his friend.

Jonas nods. "Aye. From thugs t' priestesses in one block." He grins, looking briefly over his shoulder for a certain Rhian and friends.

Jonas says, "Do ye know Fransisko? I'm sure ye've seen him in the Bazaar. Hard t' miss with a tunic that color."

"I think they're long gone," Francisco comments to Jonas, then turns to look at Buran having notice her put the silver sheets in her pocket. "Modelling supplies?" he asks with a smile.

Buran glances at them. "Indeed. You're the one who traded me the Fox doll, no? I enjoyed discovering how it worked."

Buran offers her right paw in greeting. "Pleased to meet you, Francisco. Has Jonas told you my name?"

Shaking his head, Francisco replies. "No – I don't believe that I've caught your name before."

Jonas says, "Oh. Yer pardon. Fransisko, this is Healer Buran o' the Temple."

Francisco ahs, and smiles. "Well, pleased to meet you, Buran."

Buran shakes the proffered paw. "How's the booth going?" She pauses, then frowns. "Or… was it yours that the Creens demolished? I was a bit … distracted that day."

The five-tailed fox sighs a little. "Yeah – it got destroyed. But I've moved onto other things now," he says, reaffirming his hold on the jar containing his 'waashu eye'.

Jonas is about to say something, when his stomach rumbles ominously. "Hmm, Bruin's Children share His appetite, unfortunately. P'raps ye'd both join me fer a good meal?"

The Sphynx nods. "Certainly! You can tell me what that is," she says as she nods toward the jar. "But we mustn't be too long; I go off-island in the morning." She closes her haggling a few minutes later, securing the turquoise-blue paint for thirteen shekels a jar.

Jonas nods. "Good. Will ye join us, Fransisko? Or does that thing need t' be somewhere?"

Francisco looks at his 'eye', and considers. "I could probably make time. I can always tell Haskalah that this little thing was tricky to find."

"Even better! Let's be off, then." Jonas starts walking towards other parts of the Bazaar, intent on food. "Maybe we kin find someplace that kin do haggis!"