The eyes of the alleyway continue to taunt Jarik as he stumbles out towards the busy street. His ear and muzzle bleed steadily as his ribs and back threaten to explode with each step and breath. Little blurry stars start to blink across his vision as the alley way ends, and the crowd of the street mills about before him.

Jarik looks down at his body… o O {Can't be seen… not like this… } He struggles to put on his robes again to hide his weapon and abdominal injuries… He hopes if questioned he can say he was jumped. But if they see the sword… no chance…

The sounds of the city assault the fox's headache like a battering ram on his temples. The scent of his own blood in his nostrils drowns out the stench of the hundreds of bodies pushing in front of him.

Jarik tries to look around and locate the entrance back in to Elamoore… He's got to make it to the inn or someplace safe, soon. He's not going to be conscious much longer. He can feel his mind slipping into darkness…

Jarik winces in pain, perhaps he can find someone who'll help him. He knows he won't last much longer. His eyes scan the crowds, hoping to find someone who looks like they may help an injured soul…

The gate is right before him the alleyway he is in only the second past the main walls. The guards collecting the tolls scan the crowd to keep out the rif raff and urchins.

Jarik staggers back toward the gate…

The crowd bumps and tussles with Jarik as the tide flows towards the gate. A coach drawn by a team of lizard steeds barrels down the street, the teamster blowing a horn to clear the way before him. A mongrel morph of some sort beside Jarik spins to get out of the way and accidentally jams the edge of his pack into Jarik's damaged ribs. Delicious waves of pain wash over the battered vulpine. "Scuse me Sir!" he says, melding back into the crowd, oblivious that what he did was anything more than a bump.

Jarik grrrrs and grasps his ribs. The fox drops to one knee, pain overwhelming him. {Gah… something may have been broken… feels like I'm on fire… } He grimaces. {Well, fox, you're in deep trouble this time. No one will bail you out. Come on, focus, use your will. Get up… } He tries to struggle back up but can't find the strength, his muscles shake and his body is wracked with agony…

"Excuse me sir. Are you all right?" Comes a delicate voice from the haze.

Jarik looks up, trying to locate the voice… "I… I'm… " He stammers, each word making his chest blaze with pain, "I… " He collapses on to his side, "… think I'm… dying." He lays on his side, his breathing labored. His vision is extremely blurred now, and breaking up further…

Before Jarik stands an elegant collie morph in an elaborate and expensive dress with many trusses and petticoats. She carries a sun parasol and is covered in ribbons and tiny bells, all tied throughout the waist length mane of hair that cascades over her back and shoulders. Several Savanite servants with heavily laden shopping baskets accompany her along with an enormous Vartan bodyguard eyeing Jarik warily as he wonders what his charge is doing talking to strangers on the street.

Jarik's single working eye strains to focus on her… His voice rasps, "… help me… please. I can't *cough* make it back… "

Several rakish Kavi watch Jarik from across the street. The collie gasps and drops her parasol, looking at Jarik and lifting his cloak as she gasps seeing his battered state. "My word," She says standing back and making a quick decision. "Skorro. Help this Tod. He's injured."

The Vartan looks at his charge. "Does milady know Tod? Remember last Tod Lady Help. Skorro not want pound again."

Jarik's eye closes, "… thank you… "

The collie frowns and glares, an indecisive look on her face, until she sees the Kavi eyeing Jarik. Her back straightens, "But we cant leave him here. And father replaced the china easily. Now do as I say."

Jarik can barely hear anything they say. What he does hear he doesn't understand. In his state, he would only recognize his native tongue easily… Lays there, fading fast into a cold sleep…

The Vartan shrugs. "Harumph. Your funeral." He picks Jarik roughly up, frisks him and removes the sword and then tosses him over his shoulder. The pain that rocks Jarik makes the pack bump feel like a tickle. A bright flash of red light accompanies the agony and soon fades to black as the fox slips out of consciousness and feels no more…

A thumping reverberates in the dark, its surreal echo bouncing around in the dark in time with Jarik's heartbeat. Wait – it is his heartbeat. A ribbon of light oscillates in front of the fox's face soon materializing into a sensation – a light tickling against his cheek. One by one his limbs report in, filling with warmth as they start to groan in pain. Several spots tickle over the fox's torso knees and thighs. As he opens his eyes the fly buzzes from his cheek to land on his ear; the tickles are the blanket that covers his bare form. The light shows it to be mid morning. Wasn't it just afternoon?

Jarik takes a deep breath and immediately wishes he didn't. o O {Ah… ugh… where am I now… ?} He tries to sit up…

Jarik struggles into a sitting position and looks under the blanket… He immediately wraps it tightly around his torso and legs.

A light paw touches Jarik's chest and presses him back down. The face of a Savanite appears and shakes her head before offering Jarik a glass of thin wine. She eeps and her eyes go wide as he sits up. Big fox.

Jarik winces, "I'm sorry, Milady… " The fox lies back down, realizing he's probably some place safe. Good, his body isn't going to be going anywhere for a bit… His right hand reaches for the wine shakily…

The Savanite demurely lowers her eyes as Jarik takes the cup. She makes a stay put motion before slipping from the room and closing the door behind her.

Jarik lowers the wine to his muzzle and sniffs gently…

The wine is a very watered, daily drinking affair. The glass is simple but elegant, a wide kylix usable as either a cup or bowl.

Jarik drinks deep… His body has been without any nourishment for awhile now, he's guessing. After he's done, he looks around the room again. o O {Where am I?}

The room is plain but what furniture it has is of good quality. The bed Jarik is nestled in is flanked by end tables with oil lamps. A pitcher of wine sits by the bed along with a half-eaten bunch of grapes. A dresser sits opposite the bed topped with a mirror and several potted plants. A deep sitting chair sits in the corner with a small wrapped parcel on the table alongside it.

Jarik looks to the package. o O {I wonder what that is… ?}

Jarik shakes his head, "No way I'm getting up anytime soon… Perhaps someone will be here soon?" He wonders out loud…

The sound of footsteps is heard outside. Soon the Collie morph appears, her bodyguard and the Savanite in tow behind her. "Ah! So you are awake at last," she says as she comes forward and starts to look Jarik over, checking his bandaged ribs and starting to unwrap the bandage over his swollen eye and ears, "How are you feeling?"

Jarik tries to smile, "Oh, I could be worse, I suppose… I'm alive even if my body doesn't think so… Thank you, Milady… I don't know how I can repay you… I didn't expect anyone here would help me… not some unknown fox. Thank you… "

The Collie smiles. "Thanks are not necessary," she says as she finishes the bandage and examines Jarik's ear. "Helping people is what I do." She hmms and takes a flask the Savanite has produced. "Sorry about this," she says as she squirts its contents on Jarik's ear which lights up in a sharp stinging pain. The smell of strong alcohol permeates the air. "Your ear was trying to get infected, but it appears to be acting like a gentleman again."

Jarik winces… "May I ask who you are, Milady? And where I am… ? And, er… what happened to my clothes… ?" He almost blushes but his ears are already red in pain…

The collie starts to rewrap Jarik's ear after applying new gauze. "My name is Callie Melodilanar. You are in my father's house in the Freshwater Quarter of Elamoore." She giggles and blushes pinkly. "And your clothes are over there." She smiles, "But don't worry too much. I am a doctor. You've nothing I haven't seen before!"

Jarik nods slightly… "How bad were my injuries? I know I had a couple puncture wounds and my ribs may have been fractured… My head, ugh, I'm lucky to be alive… "

Callie looks at Jarik with a bit of relief in her eyes. "Bad. The ribs were only bruised, the cuts were superficial, except for your ear. The head, well, when you passed out on Skorro's shoulder I didn't think you would wake up again, once I saw the damage. Your skull was cracked."

"Now may I ask you a question, Mr.?"

Jarik looks up at Callie, "My name is Darius… I'm a healer by trade. Trouble seems to follow me… " He blinks, "Cracked? Then… how did I even make it back to the gate… ?"

"I do not know."

Jarik nods slightly, "Ask me anything, Milady. I am indebted to you… "

The Collie looks thoughtful, her hair tied halfway up into a braid, which she twists around her finger absently. "What happened?"

The Vartan shifts, his eyes distracted by a crystal prism in the window glass…

Jarik slumps into his pillow, "Everything that has happened to me, or just what has happened here in Himar… ?"

Jarik says, "It's quite a story."

Callie shakes her head, lightly patting the shoulder of the Savanite who smiles back to her. "I meant to cause your injuries." She smiles, "But anything else you may wish to tell me I will listen to,"

Jarik smiles, "You may wish to take a seat, Milady… "

Callie settles down on the chair, her simple housedress folding delicately beneath her.

Jarik begins, "I am a servant and friend, or was, to Sir Fireclaw, the last knight of the order of Crydon. We were travelling here in search of an artifact stolen from him, an ancient steel sword. He… never made it to Himar. He now walks the great procession." The fox's voice softens, "I swore to him on his dying breaths I would finish the quest for him. I located it here, and saw it stolen by Kavi street urchins. I tried to locate them and followed a trail into an alleyway. There, I was surrounded by 3 adult Kavi and a sheepdog."

The lady listens, her ears canted politely as the Savanite listens with wide-eyed wonder.

Jarik says, "Well, I asked them if they knew of its location… To shorten the long conversation, they did. And began to encircle me. I was trapped. Luckily, Sir Fireclaw taught me how to sword-fight. I moved out of the circle as fast I could and tried to disable one of them… They were intent on killing me though. I had no choice but to fight with… fatal results. I took out three of the four, but took rather serious injuries in the process. That blow on my head… I took down two after I was hit there… How I stayed conscious, I have no idea… The other, I terrified. When his throwing knife imbedded itself in my money pouch instead of me… He thought I was a ghost of some sort… "

Jarik says, "Maybe because I'm used to the injuries, I stayed functional, I don't know. You must have seen, these aren't the first wounds I've had."

Callie nods, her ears pinking a little.

The Vartan watches Jarik, a bored look on his face.

Jarik says, "Well, in his terror, he told me where to seek m… Sir Fireclaw's sword. I stumbled back to the gate and met you… And here I am."

Callie nods and smiles, "Three days later… "

Jarik blinks, "Three… three days?"

Callie nods. "Your head was hurt fairly badly. I fortunately was able to mend it before the swelling went too out of control."

Jarik tilts his head… "Do you know… magical healing… ?"

Callie nods her head. "It is my profession."

Jarik's jaw drops. "I could… heal by magic once… Before I arrived on this world. I am an exile… Could you… could you… teach me it again?" He struggles to raise his paw and generate a small blue arc of energy before collapsing in exhaustion…

The Vartan leaps to clobber Jarik before Callie interposes herself between the fox and the big Hippogryph. "Skorro are you Daft?" She yells, "Sit down. He can hardly stand as it is let alone hurt me even if he did have his components. Think!" She shakes her head as the Vartan gruffly withdraws, smoothing his ruffled feathers back down. "The Collie puts her paw on his and smiles, "Thank you for your vigilance though, dear friend." She looks back at "Darius" and sighs, "Please. Do not exert yourself. You need more rest and your body can not stand channeling in the shape its in."

Jarik winces, "I would never hurt you, Milady. I am indebted to you. I'm sorry… it's been very frustrating for me… I feel so crippled here on Sinai. I saw a chance, a hope to regain what I once could do… I'm sorry."

Jarik says, "Milady… I need to tell you something… In private, please? I am in no shape to move, but I feel you must know. I owe it to you."

The Vartan looks at the lady suspiciously. Callie tilts her head curiously. "Excuse me?" She says to Jarik with a tilted head. He thinks on the request, looking at the Savanite who nods to her. "As you wish." she says to Jarik and waves her paw to the Vartan and Savanite. "I'll be along shortly."

Jarik says, "Your guard can wait outside… I'm in no shape to move, but if you once fear for your safety, he'll be in easy range… "

Jarik says, "I… I'm putting my life at extreme risk telling you this. But, I owe you the truth."

The Vartan lingers near the door.

Jarik takes a breath, "Milady… what I told you about my injuries and how I got here was true, for the most part. I am seeking an ancient sword belonging to a knight, Sir Fireclaw. It's just that I… I'm Sir Fireclaw. There is no Darius. I am Sir Jarik Fireclaw, Paladin and one of the last knights of Crydon. I am indeed, a healer, or was. Now, I'm hunted. Darius is what I go by to keep safe. I've made many enemies here."

Callie nods, "I had guessed as much. You had such fine blonde hair did you not?"

Jarik nods, "I did, yes."

Callie smiles and nods.

Jarik tilts his head, "I guess a healer taking down a group of four thugs is a bit hard to believe, eh?"

Jarik says, "What else gave it away… ?"

"If it ever happened." She says. "I am flattered you take your trust in my Lord Fireclaw. It was my duty to do as best I could for you. I swore an oath. And as for your payment, I will decide on that when you are well. For now, sleep. Your secret is safe with me. On my oath as a Lady."

Jarik nods again, "Thank you, Milady." His eyes close gently and his breathing slows. The exhausted fox lets darkness once again overcome his battered body. It sooths and hides the pain for a time. His mind swirls in dreams of his past, and his possible future. He must succeed in recovering his heritage. Perhaps destiny has begun to smile on him a bit. He was so close to death, and rescued by a gentle lady…

The lady leaves the room, leaving the Savanite servant to tend to the wounded Tod and the Vartan to keep an eye on him as well.