The Vykarins have given up trying to dig through the ground to reach the Great Monster. However, they still frequently dig up the ground, coming up with little fuzzball critters that the Vykarins apparently call "SNAP SNAP MUNCH GULP MMMMM", in their native tongue.

Fenter plays with some of the remaining bits of unmelted snow, forming little lumpy shapes with it as he hums to himself.

Bassai slithers from the heated sled, and looks around at the vista. He still wears his protective clothing, but it is slowly becoming unnecessary. His coils slip onto the wet ground, and he slithers over to Fenter.

"At least they're finding something to eat. Have you convinced one of them to hand a creature over instead of just snapping them down?" the Naga hisses at the Rath'ani.

A purple-shelled Vykarin with lots of ripples in his chitinous covering gallops over to Bassai, holding a couple of squirming little rodent-like fuzzballs. They have no eyes, being completely blind, for all one can tell. He hands them to the raccoon, tail wagging.

Observing from the safety of the sled, Fetiss looks up from the documents he is scribbling on, pondering about what will happen next.

Fenter holds the proffered creature out at arm's length with his thumb and forefinger, letting it dangle in the air. He offers the Vykarin a snowball in return.

"Ah!" Bassai flicks out his tongue in hungry anticipation. "Fetiss, I believe this should interesst you," the Naga shouts loudly to the sled, examining the fuzzballs that Fenter is holding. "Careful Fenter, don't drop it."

"SNAPSNAPMUNCHGULPMMMM," says the Vykarin, frowning slightly at the offering. He click-growl-pops something in reply.

Leaving his documents on his seat, Fetiss tightens the coat about his person and slidders out of the sled and over to Bassai and the rest.

While waiting, the archaeologist gazes about for the Rhians, the Lancer, his servant, and anyone else who might have shown up unexpectedly.

There's no sign of Ibis. But Tekki has kept close by. The Lancer disappeared without telling anyone where she was headed. But then, she never tells anyone anything, it seems.

The raccoon grumbles something to himself and then stares bug-eyed at the Vykarin for a good long moment. "Um… Mister bassai, I'm really not all that hungry. Could someone please take this hairy thing before it decides to eat one of my fingers or infect me with sime disease or something?"

"It would appear the Vykarins have discovered an alternative to squibbits." Bassai takes the creatures from Fenter, "Would you be interested?"

The fuzzy creatures wriggle violently in protest, their bristly whiskers flicking, their shovel-like paws running cycles, finding no earth to get anchor on.

"I don't know, I rather like squibbits. They're so… mushy," Fenter remarks to himself.

Fetiss' head quickly darts forward and looks at the creature. Then he twists this way and that to look at it from different sides. A smile seems to start playing over his lips as he cannot find any reference to any such creature in his memory. With a nod he says, "Yess, ch'iss sseemss interessting indeed." reaching out to grab the animal.

The Vykarin wags his thick armored tail happily, starting at Fenter a little while longer, then bounding away, sending up clods of half-thawed earth in his wake.

The ringneck hands one of the Snapsnaps to the cobra, carefully examining the one he still holds. "I suggest you let me try one first, after all, you are the medical expert."

With a firm grip the surgeon holds his prey as he answers Bassai, "Eat ch'em. Ch'at would be a wasste indeed. Ch'esse may never have been sseen before. A new sspessiess. And you want to eat ch'em. Ch'iss have to be eksamined firsst."

Fenter brushes his hands off and looks around. He barks something to the departing Vykarin.

Bassai says, "I fear the Vykarins will drive them to extinction before you or I could; they have been eating them all night."

The Vykarin comes to a halt, spins around, and points to his shell, tail wagging happily. He then bounds off again.

"However, you are right. Perhaps you should preserve a breeding pair for the moment." Bassai hands the other creature to Fetiss, then looks around. "Does anyone know where the Lancer went, or when she left? Her behaviour is starting to concern me."

With a sharp suprised hiss Fetiss almost drops the critter as he exclaims, in Imperial, "But, my discovery! My species! They can't eat my species! Stop them!" and he looks around, seeing the riding beasts as he says, "Can't thet eat those instead?"

Reaching out gently, the cobra tucks one of the critters under his arm, as he accepts another one from Bassai, nodding in reply.

The critters continue to wriggle violently, doing their feeble best to try to wrestle free. They don't stand a chance.

Fenter tilts his head. "Your species?"

"Fenter, try and convince the Vykarins that if they eat all the creatures before they have a chance to reproduce, they will run out," the archaeologist hisses, then pauses a moment to consider. "That's likely too complex for them; just tell them not to eat them."

Darting his head to look at Fenter, Fetiss says, "Sso, you are not ass unssivilissed ass I have been led to belive at leasst." Then he tilts his head and says, "Yess, I may very well get the honor of fining ch'osse sspessiess for ch'e Naga empire. Maybe even naming ch'em."

Turning to Bassai, the cobra asks, "Do we happen to have any ch'agess wich' uss? I would ssertainly need ch'em."

"Yes Fenter," Bassai nods. "I have claimed this Sky Island for the Nagai Empire, and allowed Fetiss to be credited for the species discovered here. It is of course, his specialty, so they should be his discoveries."

Fenter makes a few loud pop-growl-barking noises to the closest Vykarins.

"I'm not sure, Surgeon, there may be some in the sled. I don't know what managed to get loaded before it was sent across," the ringneck hisses.

The Vykarins look at each other, then back at Fenter. They whine, growl, then just bound off, going about their usual business.

Thinking for a moment the cobra then says, "Wood? Do we have wood? Or bagss of ssome ssort? And ssewing ech'uipment? Do we have ch'at?"

Tekki checks the supplies, and returns, signing to his master, "No cages, sir. We have very little in the way of supplies. Just some fuel to warm your sled for a time, papers, some rations … the usual."

Fenter just shrugs and sits down on a relatively clear patch of ground.

Bassai nods to Tekki, signing, "I see. Turn off the heater when the sled is not in use." The ringneck turns to the cobra Naga. "It would not appear so, Fetiss. The best you may be able to do is arrange something with your medical supplies. We only have a bit of food and paper."

Fenter looks around, his ears flick and he takes a deep breath of air thorugh his nostrils.

With a sharp hiss the cobra nods to Bassai, "I will ssee what I ch'an do about it. Perhapss I will ch'eep ch'em in ch'e ssleed," as he turns around and heads for the hated sled.

The archaeologist looks around at the melting countryside. "The mountain isn't that far away, and things seem warm enough. I suggest we explore it now, and see if we can find that uncle of yours, Fenter. Coming, Fetiss?"

Tekki picks up a bundle of supplies, slinging the pack over his back, ready at a moment's notice for any travel his master proposes.

With a look over his shoulder, Fetiss says, "Asss ssoon asss I have loch'ed ch'osse up in ch'e ssleed, I will join you," as he attemps exactly that.

"Tekki, you can turn off the heater in the sled; this exploration should take a few hours. Ah good, you're already prepared," the archaeologist signs at the Savanite, as he waits on the doctor.

Fetiss returns shortly, after tucking the creatures into the sled.

Fenter rubs his nose. "I wonder if the lancer's met Uncle Agnes yet?" He looks up to the mountain.

"Perhaps they'll get along." Bassai adjusts his clothing. "You have a flag?" he signs to Tekki.

Tekki nods, indicating the wooden stick protruding from the pack, presumably for the purpose of mounting a flag.

"Ohh… you're planting a flag here as well?" Fenter asks, bouncing on his heels.

"Well then let's be… How do you mean, as well?" the ringneck asks Fenter, as he starts the first slide of the long slither towards the mountain.

Fetiss quickly turns to look at Fenter, quite surprised as he asks, "You already ach'laimed ch'iss land? Very good initiative."

Fenter says, "Me? Nonono… I just remembered seeing a flag up in the valley where the berries were. I think it belonged to the lancer."

Stopping suddenly, Fetiss says, "Pleasse repeat ch'at," to Fenter.

"I see… " Bassai hisses, "Perhaps I have been out of the Empire too long, but I will give her the benefit of the doubt for the moment. This is something that will have to be investigated however."

The raccoon looks questioningly to Fetiss. "I said the lancer planted a flag in the garden with the berries."

Slithering on, the cobra calms down and says, "Ah, ch'et chiss plasse already belong to uss. How eksellent. But it would have been nisse wich more of a sseremony," mostly to himself.

Fenter just shrugs and hustles himself along.

The ringneck quietly swallows his frustration, a less pleasant meal than the SnapSnap critter might have been, and tries to maintain his optimism. "Yes, I'm sure it is a simple misunderstanding, Fenter. We'll straighten it out soon," he says cheerily, as he continues towards the mountain.

Some time later, the group manages to make its way up the slopes of the mountain … until, upon reaching a certain crest, they find a bowl-shaped valley nestled within the outer rocky shell that looks like a plateau to outsiders.

In the center of this "bowl", the valley is quite alive. There is much greenery, many plants, an explosion of color.

Bassai flicks out his tongue as he gazes down into the bowl. He looks at all the colour, and to see if any melted snow is forming a lake. "It would seem you will have many species to name, Fetiss."

With an open mouth hiss, Fetiss exclaims, "Ch'iss travelling iss tiressome indeed." Then, he looks the valley over and adds with a smile, "But well worch' it. Well worch' it indeed."

"Wheeeee!" Fenter exclaims and starts to slide down the edge of the bowl.

"Was this the valley you were in, Fente… " the archaeologist asks, breaking off as the Rath'ani slides away.

Rather than forming a lake, the tributaries seem to be running water into channels that traverse a central, circular area in the heart of the valley, where there is a greater concentration of plants.

The raccoon bounds towards the closest collection of plants.

Fetiss points over to the centre of the valley as he suggests, "Perhapss we sshall sstart by eksamining ch'at?" as he begins to look for a way down.

The ringneck Naga looks for a more dignified way down into the bowl. He glances around the rim, and down into the centre, then his eyes narrow in surprise. "Those flowers… it can't be." He shakes his head.

Following Bassai's gaze, Fetiss tries to make out what he is looking for. Leaning slightly forward he asks, "What, what about ch'em?"

"They just remind me of something I saw in a painting, an Eye that Kame Ikata kept making. Come, let's examine it a little closser." The ringneck moves over the side, and follows Fenter down the edge, trying to maintain his posture.

Still eyeing the flower arrangement that was pointed out to him, the cobra quickly follows the bigger Naga down, not having to worry as much about the ground not supporting him, wondering what that was all about.

Fenter pulls himself up from the ground after finishing his descent, shakes himself out like a wet canine and then starts snuffling around.

There are ways to get down into the valley … none of them nearly so fast as the raccoon's less-than-graceful "slide". However, with the distraction of greenery (and other colors) for the raccoon to gorge himself on along the way, the whole party eventually makes its way to the bottom.

Bassai says, "Now, Fenter, as I was saying. Was this the valley you found yourself in, and where did you arrive?"

Nearby, there are several segmented, shiny, slightly irregular domes half-buried in dirt and foliage. Some of them have spikes on them. Others are slightly marbled or mottled.

They vary greatly in size, but are no larger than five or six feet in diameter.

The cobra Naga looks around for any interesting species of flowers, scissors and sample jars at the ready.

"I think so. Everything tastes the same at least," Fenter mumbles as he waddles up to one of the strange domes.

The ringneck Naga flicks out his tongue curiously, "Fenter… are these buried Vykarins?" He slithers close to a mottled dome.

Fenter says, "It seems to be. They've gone nappy-poo I think. I hope they didn't hog all the comfy clover… "

"Were they present when you were first here?" Bassai hisses pensively. He reaches out to rap on the shell of one, standing to what he guesses is the side of the creature, and hopefully not the front if he is wrong.

An annoyed-sounding grumble echoes from the heart of the shell, and it shuffles a bit in position.

"I don't believe so, sir," Fenter says, walking away from the sleeping Vykarins. He examines the plants at his feet and starts picking things.

"See if you can find one more agreeable to being woken," the ringneck says, flicking out his tongue. "I have a theory you can tesst for me."

Fenter says, "I make it a point to never wake up anything bigger than myself." He pops some berries into his mouth.

The raccoon's fur seems to be fluffier than before, for some reason.

Bassai hisses, "Admirable policy. You are correct, it is a quesstion that can wait. Are you sure it is safe to be eating that? Your eyes are now blue, and you seem… larger."

"I gorged myself on them last time, sir, and they did me no harm," Fenter says, munching on another handful. "And I think my hair standing out is just a reaction to good food finally finding its way into my system for once."

The raccoon's fur progressively gets more and more "fluffy" … to the point where Fenter looks like a total fuzzball, every bit of exposed hair and fur sticking straight out.

The surgeon slithers up to Fenter and asks, "Pleasse, doch'ument what you eat at leasst. We need… Wait a minute." He turns to Bassai and asks, "Am I misstach'en, or did he really have blue eyess before? And what about hiss fur?"

"Yes, he did. I have no explanation for his fur," the ringneck replies, slithering closer to see just what the Rath'ani is eating. "You have quite a reaction to good food, Fenter. If you are full, do you think you could find where your uncle appeared? Failing that, show us the Lancer's flag."

Fenter burps. "I ate a bit of everything… a flower, some clover, some bugs. The berries were the most appetizing though." He rubs his stomach. "And my eyes were green before they went all funny."

With a quick motion, the cobra snatches some of the berries from Fenter's hand. He asks, "Iss ch'iss ch'e berriess you were eating, just now?"

The raccoon rubs his wrist, "I WAS eating them… " he grumbles and then points Bassai out towards the center of the valley. "Right down there, the Lancer is there I think."

Where the raccoon points, plenty of flowers can be seen, but no sign of the Lancer … except, perhaps the light reflecting off of something very shiny near one of the channels.

The surgeon now starts to examine Fenter's fur, very closely, as a free hand of his gets out a set of pliers from his pack. His other hand feels at it, examining its fluffiness. He mumbles, "Interessting effech'tss, intriguing, unich'e," to himself while doing this.

The distant reflection catches the Ringneck's eye. "Of course. That is where we should go. Perhapss we can get to the bottom of these mysteries. Do you have enough samples Fetiss?" Bassai asks, already searching for an easy path down.

Fenter says, "GAH! Don't pluck out my fur! I'm very sensitive to pain… "

Rubbing the pliers along his lips Fetiss suggests, "When we get bach' I ch'ould ssedate you firsst. How doess ch'at ssound? Ch'iss iss really ssomech'ing. Interessting sside effech'tss," then he turns to the archaeologist and says, "I believe our friend here iss what iss mosst important at ch'e moment."

"It's fortunate then that he can come with us. Let's go." Bassai slithers off towards the reflection.

The raccoon looks at Fetiss, looks at the pliers, looks back at Fetiss, and then starts running at full speed to the center of the valley.

Some time later, the snakes (and Tekki) catch up with the raccoon closer to the heart of the valley. Nearby, a white and red flag with the Bounded Star and Anchor flutters in a gentle wind, with several magenta ribbons fluttering from the same pole.

Nearby, an armored feline reclines amidst the clovers, her tail swishing lazily. Also nearby, some cloths are laid out on a rock, apparently to dry.

Fetiss has replaced his pliers and says to Fenter, "But, I wass going to usse anaesstech'ich'ss, for ssure," almost apologetically.

Bassai slithers up, looking at the flag, then the reclining feline. "Ah, Thorn. I wish to compliment you."

Thorn raises a hand, lazily waving at the snake from what might be a comfortable position … save for the questionable influence of armor.

"When I sent you out, I neglected to instruct you to claim anything you found for the Nagai Empire. Fortunately, you seem to have improvised admirably." The archaeologist looks around, signalling to Tekki. "We have the proper flag now, so you may take down your temporary one."

Thorn sits up now, gazing at Bassai.

"But you'd have to jab me with some horrid giant pokey needle thing!" Fenter says nervously to Fetiss, trying to keep his distance.

Tekki sets down his pack, and pulls out the flagpole. He carefully removes the folded flag from a protective pouch, and attaches it to the pole.

"You may take down your flag now," Bassai repeats.

Looking proudly at the flag, Fetiss suddenly discovers that something is horribly wrong. Instead of the usual Nagai crest, he sees something else. With a quick turn he looks at Thorn, then at Bassai and says, "Bu, bu, but ch'iss iss not a Nagai flag?" pointing to the flag standing there.

Thorn stands, and crosses her arms. She slowly shakes her head from side to side, facing Bassai.

Fenter sits down and 'borrows' one of the cloths in the rock. He starts putting berries inside of it.

"Perhaps you fail to understand me. This is a Nagai expedition, funded by the Nagai Empire, and you were acting under my instructions, investigating a location I specified. This island belongs to the Nagai empire, and your flag has to come down," Bassai hisses in reply, eyes widening at the Lancer.

The Lancer just stands her ground … then looks sideways, noting Fenter's actions. She lets out an angry-sounding hiss at the raccoon.

Fetiss slithers up by his Naga comrades side and says, with a disrespectful voice, "I did not even ch'now you were ch'apable of ch'rafting flagss. Very impressive. Now remove ch'iss … ch'ing … from Nagai ground," as he points to the erect flag, speaking to Thorn.

Currently, the Lancer stands next to the flag, which is to her right. Fenter would be to her left. The two snakes (and the cheetah) are directly in front of her.

Fenter urks. He quickly places the cloth back on the rock, giving it a gentle pat.

Thorn returns her attentions to the snakes.

The ringneck slithers closer towards Thorn, angling for the flag. "I sought to do you a favour and relieve you of your boredom at camp. You do not have a valid claim. If you refuse to remove your flag I will do it for you."

The feline's swords appear in a flash, held in each hand.

Bassai hisses! "Put away your weapons! Your behaviour further tarnishes the reputation of your order. Do you think the Temple will support a claim from a disgraced Lance?"

Rising, with a sharp hiss, Fetiss extends his shield fully, looking sternly at the warrior. Examining her armour for any soft spots. He may not know too well how to strike, but he knows where.

The Lancer stands her ground, not saying a thing, her blades held steady.

"Sheath them," Bassai orders. "The Nagai Empire will go to war over this. Are you prepared to drag Rephidim into another conflict by attacking me?"

Curling up in striking position, the cobra continues hissing as he looks the armour over more closely, looking for gaps in the neck, arms or abdominal areas.

Fenter shrinks down a little. He looks between the snakes and the Lancer.

Tekki cowers, moving just to one side of Bassai, as if ready to leap between his master and the Lancer's blades.

Bassai signs, "Behind," as he stares into the Lancer's mask, directly into her eyes.

Tekki looks somewhat shaken, but obeys his master, moving behind, but still close at hand.

The Lancer still stands there, motionless – for the time being.

"Very well," the archaeologist hisses, as much for Fetiss' benefit as the Lancer's. Bassai's eyes are watching Thorn's weapons, his scholarly background of little use for his next action. "I will remove your flag."

The ringneck waits a second for Fetiss to prepare, then slithers and reaches for the flag, ready to try and evade when the Lancer attacks.

*SHUNK* One of the blades is planted into the ground, right next to the flag … right in front of the ringneck, the hilt sticking up in the air.

The raccoon gulps and dives behind a rock.

The cobra's hissing suddeny rises in pitch as it then relaxes again. He starts considering his chances going for the side of the lancer, attacking from behind.

Bassai recoils from the slash. A second of pause, then he hisses while staring directly at the Lancer. "You are a disgrace. You disobey orders, place a claim you have no right to, and attack unarmed civilians. You have been unruly, rude, and a hamper to this expedition. It is no wonder the Temple has a poor view of your order; you didn't even have the decency to claim this island for them. Instead you try to take title for the undisciplined band of thugs you are a member of."

"Sheathe your weapon and remove your flag!" the Ringneck orders loudly.

The one sword planted in the ground continues to vibrate in place. The other is still held by the armored feline.

The cobra still has his shield fully extended, eyeing the Lancer, trying to anticipate any attack.

Bassai stares at the blade, "You expect me to duel you? I am a scholar, and you will cut me to ribbons if I touch that weapon. I also do not have the benefit of armour."

The feline offers no reply. From across the way, some of the colorful "shells" begin to stir, accompanied by disgruntled wurfs and growls as some of the Vykarins slowly stir from their semi-buried slumber.

The archaeologist stares at the Lancer, gauging the distance between himself, and her, and the blade and the pole. Would he be able to slash down the flag before she was upon him? He reaches slowly for the hilt. "You are just trying to justify murder; you know I have no chance against you."

With how swiftly the blade was planted, and presuming the other would be just as fast, the odds do not look very good.

The Templar turns momentarily, and taps on the rock Fenter is hiding behind, with her remaining blade.

Fenter shakily looks up.

"For the Glory of Empire," Bassai hisses quietly, picking up the blade and holding it in front of himself, hoping he will at least have a chance to block something, as he prepares to retreat.

The feline momentarily jerks her attention back to the snake, but then looks to the raccoon again. With her now-freed hand, she motions a "come-here" sign to the raccoon.

The archeologist waits, another precious moment of life, holding the blade awkwardly and watching the Lancer.

The raccoon stands and looks around just to make sure there's not anyone else she might be pointing to. He ever so slowly shuffles forward towards the lancer. "Y-y-y-y-yes m-m-m-ma'am?"

The Lancer points to the raccoon, then to the planted flag, turning her head to look at the flag as she does so.

"Y-you want me to go g-get that?" Fenter asks, slowly shuffling towards the flag.

The Lancer shakes her head. Once again, she points at Fenter … then points at the flag again.

Suddenly the cobra lashes out, trying to bite the Lancer's neck.

The cobra's fangs somehow manage to find a gap in the feline's armor, just beneath her mask, and sink in. However, her remaining blade slashes … and Fetiss' body falls away to the ground, though his jaws are still clamped on the neck of the feline. She crumples … and the ground is soon stained.

"Fetiss!" The archeologist drops the sword, and rushes to the doctor's side.

Bassai crouches by the Surgeon and Lancer, though he is as unskilled in medicine as the doctor is in archaeology. "Tekki, Fenter, Help! I did not want this to be settled by violence."

Fenter takes one look at the fallen pair, and passes out cold.

Tekki tries to break out of his shock, and digs through the pack frantically, pulling out anything that looks like medical supplies.

"Doctor!" The rignneck Naga's coils slip as he sees the true horror of the wound. The cobra is slain. Bassai just halts on his coils, and stares.

Tekki looks to Bassai for instruction. He is too overwhelmed to think of anything to sign.

The Lancer lies prone on the ground, motionless. It certainly appears that the fight, as quick as it was, is over.

The archeologist is still frozen by the events. He stares down at the two in their deadly embrace. Bassai has no words to express himself.