Degarde leads Brishen out of the party going on in the main room of the Embassy, to one of the corridors leading back past the kitchen area. There are a few curious glances from the little Skeek who happens to be walking past, a couple of bats, and a Vykarin that gives a concerned whine, but by and large it goes without notice so far. As Degarde approaches a door, though, some whimpering noises can be heard on the other side, and as he opens it, a golden vixen can be seen on the floor of the storage room, flanked by a couple of Eeee guards and a quietly growling black-shelled Vykarin.

Brishen crosses her arms as she steps inside the storage room, the golden vixen earning only a cursory glance for the moment. "What happened?"

The door softly closes behind the Ambassador. Degarde nods to the taller of the two bat guards.

The guard starts, "Well, first off all, her INVITATION," he holds out an edge-worn card, "was stolen. She is most definitely not a Zerda." Then, he gestures to a pile of baubles on the floor. "But it gets worse. We received a tip from a guest that she was … lightening purses. The evidence is right here."

The vulpine spits out, "Your GUARDS have manhandled me in a way most … most … INAPPROPRIATELY! And I did no such thing! There's … there's been a misunderstanding! My purse must have been switched with someone else's!"

Degarde mutters, "The guards have had their hands full all night, truthfully. Being so CLOSE to Darkside seems to be an open invitation to the riff-raff. I hope word of this doesn't get to … ah … you-know-who."

Brishen furrows her brow. "My guards have my trust. You don't." She crouches down a little, gathering her gown in a swirl about her feet as she looks at the golden vixen. "Do you know what happens to thieves, in Ashdod?"

The vixen looks up to Brishen with an expression that indicates that if she DOESN'T know, she must have a pretty good guess.

The vixen suddenly exclaims, "You can't do this! My … my husband has TEMPLE connections! And I only wanted to get out of the HOUSE for once, and I borrowed a good friend's invitation, and … Don't you DARE! You COULDN'T! This is REPHIDIM! You and your embassy will be thrown OUT, I promise you!"

Brishen's smile grows very dangerous. "I see we understand each other. Good." She reaches out and pats one of the vixen's hands, almost gently. She turns slightly to look at Degarde. "I know the doors are guarded, but I want every guard and every servant reminded that anyone who is not part of the Embassy does not belong anywhere other than where I've said they can go." She glances down at the baubles. "And as for these, I want you to find out who they belong to, and return them, quietly."

Degarde nods. "At once." He calls over one of the guards and takes the baubles out of the storeroom. The door quickly closes behind him, leaving just one Eeee guard, one Vykarin, the Ambassador, and the vixen.

Brishen turns back to the vixen, her smile bright and utterly devoid of compassion. "I'm going to let you go, on the condition that I never again see you on Embassy grounds."

A light knocking can be heard on the door.

"Of … of course … I'll NEVER come here again!" the golden vixen promises … and seems AWFULLY convincing at that.

The Vykarin sniffs, and makes a confused noise. He clomps over toward the vixen.

Brishen looks over to one of the guards. "Whoever that is had better have a good reason for being here." She cants an ear to see if she can pick up any sounds, other than the knock, then turns to the vixen again. "I don't believe you." She stands, brushing a few specks of dust from her gown.

The golden vixen recoils at the Vykarin's approach. "What? Stop!" She looks in horror as the Vykarin snaps at her dress … and withdraws, holding a lady's necklace in his mouth. Perhaps it had the smell of a perfume other than that worn by the vixen. The golden vixen slumps.

The knocking repeats itself … though this time on the wall, rather than the door.

Buran pages, "What I haven't figured out is who the guy with the beard was, who was talking to Anakin. Any ideas?" to you.The bat's keen ears can't pick up any footsteps to match the movement of the knocking. Whoever it is must be light of foot. Or they must have REALLY done a nice job on the flooring.

Brishen shakes her head. "Get her out of her. I don't want to ever see her again."

*knock knock knock*

Brishen whispers to the Eeee guard. "Make sure she's taken out through a service entrance. I don't want her to arrive at the party once more, in chains." She pats the Vykarin's head, an ear canted thoughtfully at the knocking. "I don't like that sound at all."

The Eeee guard nods, and forces the vixen up to her feet. The Vykarin shows Brishen the necklace as if it were a trophy he'd brought back from the hunt for her. It looks faintly familiar.

The Eeee guard asks, "Should someone silence it, Ambassador?"

Brishen glances at the necklace, distractedly. "Where one noisy vixen walked through, I imagine clever thieves could have entered without being noticed. I want the Embassy searched – You know who the staff are, and who was invited. Anyone else, I want captured. If they resist, kill them."

The Eeee guard nods. "As for THIS one … " the guard shakes the vixen's arm, "I'm not sure we can get her out without being seen. There are guests in the courtyard… Perhaps we should lock her up in the basement and ship her out just before sunrise?"

Brishen nods. "Alright. There are rooms down there that'd make suitable cells. Put her in one of them."

The necklace smells strongly of the perfume (or might one call it MUSK?) that Bryanna was wearing earlier. But upon perusal, it looks an awful lot like a necklace that once belonged to Brishen, long, long ago. One that once belonged to her mother. If it needs to be returned to Bryanna, though, the Vykarin is probably the best one to do it, with his keen nose for tracking. (The Vykarin drool might be questionable, though.)

"At once, Ambassador," the guard says with a salute … and opens the door to drag the vixen into the corridor. He barks off some orders to the other guards congregating in the hall, and they spread out to locate more intruders.

Brishen wrinkles her nose. "I'm going to pull her wings off, someday."

The Vykarin rrrrs? The necklace dangles in his mouth, collecting more doggie drool.

Brishen takes the necklace carefully, smiling at the Vykarin. "Nothing to worry about. If you'd follow me, I'd like to find out where that knocking is coming from." She wipes as much of the drool off as she can, then tucks the necklace in a cleverly concealed pocket.

The Vykarin follows Brishen into the corridor. Another *knockknockknock* can be heard further along it, toward the back.

The Vykarin starts sniffing at the floor.

Brishen glances down at the Vykarin. "What is it?"

The Vykarin looks up and barks, "Ruffrar!"

Brishen looks down along either end of the corridor, for a guard first, a sword second.

*knockknockknock* This time, it can be heard just up the service stairs running up behind the kitchen. The guards aren't immediately handy, but a shrill whistle would easily summon one at a moment's notice. As for weapons … none are lying about. Wouldn't do to tempt stickyfingers.

Brishen furls her wings behind her tightly, keenly aware for a moment that her back is bare, and that she's not at all dressed for chasing thieves. With the Vykarin at her side, she slowly walks down the hall, towards the stairs.

*knockknockknock* The sound is definitely coming from the top landing of the stairs. And no one has any business being up there while the party is going on. The Vykarin sniffles at the steps, and starts ascending them carefully – His clumsy hooves aren't designed for the act, after all.

Brishen backs away from the stairs, pressing up against the near wall, then whistles, though not so loudly that it'll carry back to the foyer, and the party.

It only takes a couple of seconds for a silhouette to appear of a couple of bat ears poking from the pantry. A shock of white hair against the black fur identifies the owner as one of Brishen's guards.

Brishen hisses, in Eeee. "On the landing."

*knockknockknock* The Vykarin has disappeared, and can be heard clomping about on the top floor, and snuffling around.

The guard nods … and quickly follows the Vykarin up the stairs. Flight would be more convenient, but the narrow accessway forces him to use his feet. Nonetheless, he's swift on those as well.

Brishen gathers the hem of her gown up around her ankles, takes a deep breath, and follows.

A breeze comes down the stairwell. A window must have been left open. None of Brishen's servants would have been that incompetent. Not HERE. As the Ambassador reaches the top landing, she finds the Vykarin and Guard both staring at the open window. The room is dark, save for the dim glow of the Procession that filters in. It wouldn't bother an Eeee, of course, with his ears … and a Vykarin has his nose. However, what seems to have the guards transfixed is what forms a silhouette in the window … a fuff'nar sitting on the sill, who squeaks, "Dead?" A slender hand reaches down from just outside the window to caress his fur. "No, darling," a feminine voice whispers. "Not dead."

The humanoid form stands just outside the window, presumably balanced precariously there, though showing no sign of discomfort at this situation. She looks for all the world like a life-sized porcelain doll that has been long discarded and thrown away, and just now brought back in by a family pet. Her face is sculpted by a porcelain mask that shows in abstract the features of a vixen, framed by raven-black strands of hair that float about as if in water. She is adorned in a worn and tattered kimono that shows hints of once being brightly colored, in a flower blossom pattern.

Brishen whispers, quietly, to the Vykarin. "Get Wynona. Now. Go."

The Vykarin nods and goes. Apparently he's already been introduced to the air mage. (It's hard NOT to notice her eventually… ) His hooves clatter and clomp down the stairs … and then a yelp can be heard, along with tumbling noises. There is a light crash at the base of the stairs … then a faint, "Ri ris rokay!" Then, his hooves can be heard galloping off down the corridor.

Brishen does not take her eyes from the vixen. "You are not welcome in my house. If you value whatever keeps you tied to this island, get out."

"Ah, Kara-chan," the masked vixen replies, "but I do not remember having been introduced to you? And already you send me away! Technically, I am not in your house. I was just about to ask permission to enter, but I shall take that as a 'no'. Still, I have an offer that may interest you, if you will hear me out."

"Dead?" squeaks the fuff'nar.

"No, not dead," says the vixen, as she lightly touches the creature's nose. "And be quiet, or I shall have to punish you."

"No," the young ambassador answers. "Leave now, tattered and unwanted doll, or I swear by the Procession I will find the grave you live in and destroy it."

"Tsk, Ambassador. You really must work on your diplomacy, or you'll not be on good terms with your neighbors," the 'doll' replies, shaking her head slowly side to side. "And just what makes you think that I live in anything so trivial as a grave? What if I live in, for instance, a necklace that you had just found? Would you be so quick to destroy that?"

Brishen's smile is bright as the sun. "Yes."

The visitor just stands there. Or hovers there. The fuff'nar remains on the sill, staying unnaturally quiet for the time being.

The Eeee guard glances sideways at his mistress.

Brishen draws the necklace from her pocket. "Do you live in here?" she murmurs as she tugs gently at the aged strand.

The fuff'nar looks like he's about to say something, but a slender finger touching his nose silences him.

"You really ought not to do that," the apparition replies. Of course, there's no expression to read.

Brishen's teeth catch the light of the Procession as she smiles. "Oh?"

The apparition strokes the back of the fuff'nar with a single finger. "I wouldn't do that if I were you. Someone would be very upset."

Brishen nods understandingly. "I imagine so." The warning earns the necklace another gentle tug.

"I take it this conversion is not about to take a more pleasant turn," the apparition comments, rubbing the fuff'nar the other direction. It stifles any fussing at having its fur brushed the wrong way. "Let me make my case quickly. You have a problem on your hands, and you don't know the full length of it. I don't think your problem realizes it, either. I can take your problem away from you in a way that would benefit us both."

Brishen draws her hand around the necklace, holding the strands firmly. She shakes her head. "Get out. Now."

"All you have to do," the apparition continues, taking a step back (somehow), "is to let the golden vixen go. Just let her loose in the graveyard. She won't bother you again. In fact, you can rest assured that you'll never have another unwanted houseguest again. Your domain will be quite secure. And you would have an ally with considerable resources. An ally that would not bother approaching some of your rivals. Rivals who might not have your best interests so close to heart."

"No. And take your fuff'nar with you." The ambassador smiles, "Have a nice walk."

The apparition bows. "And a good journey to you, Kara-chan." A gust of wind blasts into the room, sending the curtains fluttering wildly … and when they settle, the apparition is gone. The fuff'nar, too.

Brishen shivers, leaning back against the wall. "Shut the window. Just… shut the window." She takes a deep breath, then wraps her arms around herself. It doesn't help.

The guard shuts the window, and lights a lantern. The lantern hasn't been used in a while, but it just seems … the thing to do.

Brishen furrows her brow slightly as she turns to walk down the stairs, motioning for the guard to follow. "For now, the golden vixen is going to be our guest. See to it that she's moved to a better room, but not one from which she'd find easy escape. Put a guard on the door. Until I find out what's going on, she's not leaving this house."

The guard nods, following. "As you wish, Ambassador."

Brishen cracks her knuckles. "Once you've done that. I want you to find a certain black Khatta. Hire a good bounty hunter if you need to. He's a part of this puzzle." She pauses, then grins. "Oh, and while my cousin is in Rephidim, I want her watched." Her laugh echoes in the narrow hall as she walks back towards the party. Intrigue? They won't know what hit them when I'm done.