After discovering that she couldn't read the inscriptions in the mausoleum near the Aeonian statue that morning, Envoy decided to make rubbings of them so she might show them to some scholar. Returning to the cemetary with the paper and charcoal in her pouch, she eyes the Eeee guards stationed on the Ashdod Embassy grounds. It's probably okay to be seen by them, since they'll just report to Brishen anyway.

If there's a word to describe how Francisco feels about Rephidim's cemetary, 'uneasy' would come close, but not get it exactly. However, the Eeee Ambassador has requested his services again – this time to look for possible traces of magical content in the monuments that surround the Embassy. He trudges slowly from one stone to the next, trying to concentrate on his work and keep his mind from remembering other things that 'live' around here.

The cemetary is littered with monuments to persons long gone, and quite probably long forgotten. Most of the inscriptions have been worn smooth or nearly smooth by time. And even those writings that have enough shape to theoretically be read … are generally in some script other than Rephidim Standard, or invoking the name or partial name of some person that doesn't conjure up any familiar memories.

After cleaning off the surfaces with a rag, Envoy takes her rubbings from the inside of the mausoleum, and hopes they'll be legible enough to identify the language used. Sealing the papers away in a pouch, she blows out her candle and makes her way towards the exit.

There's a crunching noise underfoot as Envoy makes her way to the exit. Not like a dead vermite or bug or anything … more like crumpled paper.

The Exile steps back quickly, then leans down to investigate.

It looks like a letter. Certainly nothing as ancient as this graveyard. At the entrance of the mausoleum, it could have blown here from some distance away – especially now that so much of the graveyard in this part has been cleared away.

Envoy picks up the paper, and goes to the entrance of the mausoleum, where the daylight is strong enough to let her read it without having to relight her candle.

The envelope looks as if it has been chewed on by a wild animal, and reeks of perfume – hard to place the exact scent, but the sort of thing that would be popular with the nobles. Some of the ink is blurred, but it would appear that the envelope is addressed to Ambassador Brishen Kara, at the Babelite Embassy to Rephidim. The return address, alas, must have been on the corner that was chewed off.

Still, a waxy clump on the back proves to be the remnant of a seal that bears the emblem of the government of Babel. It would seem to be some official correspondence.

The Aeolun blinks in surprise at the envelope. How could something official like this end up in a mausoleum? And worse… how come the seal had to be intact! Now she'll have to deliver it without knowing what the contents might be.

Francisco finishes with yet another stone and moves onto the next one, still wrapped up in his work and not noticing Envoy, even though he's gradually working towards where she is.

Meanwhile, at least for today's work, the black-robed mage wandering the cemetary just has two more monuments to deal with. The ancient statue … and the monument where Envoy stands.

Envoy takes a step outside, then retreats back into the shadows as she spots Francisco approaching. Since he's not really looking her way, she assumes she wasn't seen. Better to wait until he's gone, she thinks. Brishen didn't want anyone to know what I was doing out here, and Francisco would probably ask about that. She stuffs the crumpled letter into her pouch, and waits in the shadows.

There's a crack, and Envoy can sense something powdery falling from the envelope into her pouch.

On reaching the statue, the Kitsune looks it over. A unicorn, he muses to himself. If anything is going to have magical essence, I would think this one would. He digs his array of colored stones out of his robes again, laying them on the ground in a familiar pattern.

Carefully retrieving the envelope from her pouch, Envoy takes a close look at the torn corner of the letter, and even tries tapping it against the palm of her hand to see if anything else spills out.

Still unaware of Envoy's presence, the gray fox begins his magic-detecting ritual again. He's lost count of how many times he's used it today.

Nothing spills out. However, it appears that the wax seal has crumbled apart, only a few stubborn pieces clinging to the envelope. The letter must be quite some time overdue, or the elements have been most unkind to the wax. The smell of perfume is still pungent, however.

Well, since the seal has crumbled anyway… Envoy rationalizes, and opens the envelope to see what's inside.

Much of the letter is illegible due to exposure to the elements … and the chewing of some small wild beast. The perfumed odor is for an instant much stronger once the envelope is opened, but that clears soon enough, overpowered by the musty stink of the mausoleum, leaving only a subdued, sickening sweetness.

Envoy moves closer to the entrance again to try and read what she can of the letter. Maybe there'll be a clue about who sent it. She also wonders if the ink is the source of the perfumey smell, and what sort of critter would be desperate enough to chew on something that smelled so strange. From what she can make out, the letter is just a notification of a trade meeting between High Prince Boghaz, some of his councilors, and representatives of the Temple and merchants guilds. There's some mention of war reparations and trade issues. The teeth marks are bit too large to belong to a vermite.

Not finding anything else of interest in the letter, Envoy refolds it and replaces it as best as possible into the crumpled envelope. Brishen probably already found out about the meeting, since the letter was dated before Harvest Day. Still, it might be important to the Ambassador.

The kitsune mage, meanwhile, seems to be totally absorbed in whatever mystical mumbo jumbo he's doing.

Seeing that Francisco is deep into his incantations, Envoy sneaks out of the mausoleum as quietly as she can, and heads for the Embassy gate.

As soon as Envoy reaches the gate, two bats fly down to intercept her, brandishing chitin-tipped polearms! "Halt! You enter the grounds of the Babelite Embassy to Rephidim! What business do you have with the Ambassador?"

Envoy shows the battered envelope. "This needs to be delivered to the Ambassador."

The guard takes the tattered piece of mail and regards it suspiciously, holding it just between the thumb and index finger. "This looks … " He peers more closely. "Official!" His eyebrows raise. He turns to glare at the Aeolun. "What's this? Interfering with official mail? Do you know the PUNISHMENT for this offense?"

Envoy blinks, "No, I don't. And I'm delivering it, not interfering with it. I found it in the cemetary."

"The CEMETARY! Ha!" the bat laughs. "Oh, I suppose that the courier just happened to DROP this there on his way to deliver the post to the local ghouls and goblins, eh?"

The other bat seems not nearly as interested in the exchange. Actually, he has bags under his eyes, and leans a bit on his polearm. He looks like he'd much rather be studying the insides of his eyelids.

"Oh, I doubt that," Envoy says. "The bite marks are too small for a ghoul or goblin. And they don't wear that much perfume, either."

The aggressive bat blinks a few times at this. He seems at a lack for a comeback.

"There wasn't any blood around it," Envoy continues, in her usual disturbing way, "so you probably won't have to worry about the courier having been killed just a stones throw from the Embassy. Not with this tight security! Unless it was a vampire that did it, or perhaps if a blunt instrument was used to cave in the skull instead… "

The aggressive bat says to the other, "Is she … threatening me?"

Envoy pauses to rub her nose. "Or maybe it was poison. That smell is awfully strong to be just perfume, don't you think?"

The sleepy bat growls, "Just TAKE the stupid letter! She's OBVIOUSLY another escapee from the Asylum. At least she didn't paint the walls."

"Are you suggesting that an escaped homicidal lunatic is attacking couriers coming to the Embassy," Envoy asks the drowsy bat.

The aggressive bat looks to the sleepy one. "What? You mean we have to take her by there, TOO? I'm SICK of ferrying nutcases back to that place! And they don't even bother to resist capture, either! What's the fun?"

The sleepy bat says, "Well, I'm SICK of it, really. 'If they resist capture, KILL THEM!' Yeah, and who gets to take care of the bodies, huh? Not her Ambassadorship, nuh uh!"

Envoy perks up, and suggests, "Maybe it was the old Sabaoth's dragon. The one that attacked those Eeees here during the war. Not that dragons tend to hold grudges or anything."

The aggressive bat blinks at Envoy, then looks to the sleepy bat. "She's not that big. Besides, they left a few open graves out back that haven't been filled in yet. So half the job's done already."

The sleepy bat hisses, "She hasn't RESISTED CAPTURE yet! Don't get itchy! We serve a DIPLOMAT, remember? You might cause an incident."

Envoy makes shushing motions, and whispers, "You should keep your voices quiet. Well, as quiet as you can. Mage Francisco is working magic out there, and you probably shouldn't distract him."

The aggressive bat says, "Hey, isn't that supposed to be a secret? Maybe she's a spy!"

"I mean, you won't be able to guard properly if your limbs are being chewed on by zombies," Envoy says. "Not that a disrupted spell in a cemetary would raise zombies or anything. But I wouldn't know for sure, so don't hold me to that."

The sleepy bat hisses back to the aggressive one, "Oh, shut up already! I'm SICK of your yammering! Especially when I'm trying to get some shut-eye. I mean, on duty all night, and half of us get to sleep during the day! I'm SICK of it! SICK OF IT!" He seems to be paying far more attention to the aggressive bat than to Envoy. Perhaps he's already decided that she's stark raving mad.

The aggressive bat hungrily looks at Envoy. "Hey! Did you say, 'Don't hold me?' Hey, I think that's … RESISTING CAPTURE!"

Overhearing the whisper, Envoy suggests, "If I were a spy, then your enemies must be awfully careless. Logically, I would be a distraction so that the real spy could infiltrate the Embassy while you were busy with me."

The aggressive bat brandishes his polearm at Envoy. "Okay! I've got you NOW!"

Envoy blinks and asks the sleepy bat, "Is there somebody else that can take the letter to the Ambassador, I think your partner is a bit too tightly wound to be trusted with it."

The sleepy bat snatches the letter. "Sure. I can do that." He wanders off toward the embassy, leaving Envoy with the aggressive bat.

Envoy asks the other bat, "How can you have me if you're holding onto your weapon with both hands? Does it take long to learn how to be a guard? Do you get to eat lots of cheese?"

"On the ground!" the aggressive bat commands. "Keep your hands where I can see them!"

Envoy looks down at her feet, which are firmly on the ground already. She holds her hands palms outwards towards the bat.

The bat bites his lip. "Get DOWN on the ground!" he spits out. "One more time, and I call that resisting!"

A rusty-shelled Vykarin lumbers across the courtyard, yawning widely, heading this way.

Envoy blinks three times, trying to figure out this game. "I am on the ground. I should probably let you go back to your guarding though now. But I suggest you have your eyesight examined soon, it doesn't seem to be working correctly if you can't see my feet from this distance."

Raising one hand to wave, Envoy click-whurf-pops a greeting to the Vykarin.

The aggressive bat makes a growling noise … then swings his polearm at Envoy. Meanwhile, the Vykarin lolls his tongue, making a friendly bark at Envoy. He looks familiar … maybe a friend of Rawrii's … but his friendly look disappears suddenly, as he charges across the courtyard toward Envoy and the bat!

Envoy blinks at the swinging weapon and tries to duck under it!

The aggressive bat's polearm cuts through the air over Envoy's head, now that her head is much closer to the ground. A growling noise can be heard, along with galloping Vykarin hooves. Then, there's a loud CHOMP noise, followed by an ear-piercing shriek. And it doesn't come from Envoy.

Envoy winces at the shriek, and looks back up.

The Vykarin demonstrates a typical attack on humanoids when approaching the target from behind, by having his toothy maw clamped down on the Eeee's skinny posterior. He lets go, and the bat shrieks, flapping away.

Envoy can't help but giggle at the sight. But sentries don't need to sit down much anyway.

"That (squeekbird) needs to (scratch belly on a rock) more often," Envoy pop-whurfs to the Vykarin with a grin.

The Vykarin nods his head up and down happily, then makes a worried whine and glances back at the Embassy building.

Envoy says, "You aren't going to get in trouble for this, are you?"

The Vykarin whines again, his ears folding down.

Envoy gets concerned, and reaches out to pet the Vykarin's armored head. "Don't worry, I can't imagine that guard would be willing to explain how he was hurt."

Finishing his set of incantations against the unicorn statue, Francisco sighs; partially at not detecting any magic, but also because of the continued disturbance from the Embassy gates, of which he's managed to ignore until now. He straightens his boringly bland black robe, and trudges over to the gates to request a little more respect for his work.

From the embassy building, a bat flies over toward the two Exiles and the Vykarin. Another bat soars up into the air, following the direction that the first guard took just a bit ago.

The Vykarin makes a clumsy bow to the approaching ambassador.

Brishen lands, neatly, next to the Vykarin, patting the armored head of the guard as she smiles at Envoy. "Good morning, such as it is, and good morning to you, Francisco. I've just received a rather peculiar letter."

Envoy smiles to Brishen, andoes a little bow as well. "Was it all crumpled and old and smelled really funny?"

Brishen nods. "That would be the one. Do you recognize the perfume by any chance?"

"It's the sort that I smell on poodle nobles sometimes," Envoy admits. "Though usually it's not that strong."

Francisco nods to Brishen. "Ambassador," he says, by way of greeting. "Sorry to interrupt, but I was wondering if you could tell your staff to have a little bit more respect for the work that I am doing for you."

Brishen crosses her arms, casting a stern glance towards the Exile mage. "And in what fashion have they lacked the proper respect?"

The Vykarin looks to Brishen, then to Francisco, then waddles over to the mage. He drops to the ground (a feat in and of itself) and licks Francisco's feet.

Brishen covers a smile with a slender hand. "Oh my."

"My work requires a lot of concentration," the fox replies, "and loud arguements that can be heard halfway across the cemetary are quite distracting."

Envoy says, "I asked them to be quieter, Francisco… did you spill gravy on your feet or something?"

Francisco steps back in suprise at the Vykarin, and euuus!

With some effort, the Vykarin clambers back up to his hooves, and wags his tail, lolling his tongue at Francisco.

Francisco, unimpressed, just hmmfs.

Brishen stifles her laughter as best she can, curling up slightly around the hand clasped firmly over her mouth. "I see," she squeaks, muffledly. "And who exactly was arguing, might I ask?"

"Well," Envoy says, "the sentries were sort of arguing… "

"I didn't see exactly, but it seemed to be between Envoy here, and the sentries," Francisco replies.

Brishen removes her hand from her mouth, slowly, and attempts a stern nod. "Mmmhm. And what were you arguing with them about, Envoy?"

Envoy says, "One wanted to throw me into an open grave, and the other said it wasn't worth it since you don't clean up the bodies yourself, Ambassador. This was after I gave them the letter though."

Brishen frowns slightly. "I see. Well, I certainly don't want you to be thrown into an open grave."

Envoy smiles. "Speaking of which… I found the letter in the mausoleum over there." She points to the structure next to the statue.

Brishen turns to cast a curious glance at the remnants of the mausoleum. "Did you find any other letters, by any chance?"

Francisco adds, "And speaking of the mausoleum, I still have to check that structure for magic also, which I should continue with now."

Envoy shakes her head, "No, but I found this one by accident. I took rubbings of the inscriptions inside, since I couldn't recognize the alphabet they used."

Envoy hides her disappointment when she hears that Francisco isn't trying to raise the dead afterall.

Brishen furrows her brow, then nods. "Please continue with your work, Francisco. I regret any disturbance that may have been caused by my employees." Her smile is just a little fainter as she turns back to Envoy. "Do you know why Keega was screaming?"

Envoy considers. "Is Keega the bat that eats too much sugar and can't sit down now?"

Francisco nods to the Ambassador, and turns around and heads towards the mausoleum.

Brishen crosses her arms. "He was the one who issued for the rather loud shriek, a little while ago. And why would he have trouble sittin down?"

The Vykarin looks at the orchard, and starts galloping off in that direction. The northern orchard, that is.

Envoy rubs a toe in the dirt, "Because your Vykarin bit him while he was trying to get me to resist capture."

The Vykarin picks up his pace a bit. He must be awfully interested in those trees for some reason.

Brishen glances at the Vykarin, then nods. "Mmhm. Perhaps I shall have to talk to Keega, later."

"Yes," Envoy agrees, "he really shouldn't have abandoned his post that way."

Envoy thinks a moment, then suggests, "Maybe if you got them to wear big furry hats, they would be more stoic?"

Brishen grins. "It is certainly something to consider." At the moment, however, she seems considerably more interested in the Vykarin, her ears focused towards the distant orchard.

The Vykarin is out of sight, in the orchard somewhere.

The Aeolun retrieves one of the rubbings from her pouch. "I don't suppose you recognize this style of writing, do you?" she asks Brishen.

Brishen turns toward Envoy, then leans forward and squints faintly. "I… Hm." She peers at the rubbing.

Brishen straightens up and shakes her head. "I can't say so. Sorry."

Envoy puts the paper back into her pouch. "Should I see if it can be translated at the Collegia Naturalis? I haven't been banned from there yet."

Brishen tilts her head slightly, casting a suspicious glance at the Envoy. "Can you be discreet about it? I suspect the Collegia may know of your rubbings already, but I'd rather they not know that I'm interested in them as well."

Envoy nods. "They've probably heard about me, so will just figure I'm a harmless history nut."

Envoy says, "Is there anything else I should look up for you while I'm there?"

Brishen shakes her head, after a moment's thought. "That'll be fine for now." She smiles ruefully. "And in the future I'll make sure the guards know you're a welcome guest here."

Envoy ponders the wisdom of that, but just nods. Brishen shouldn't need to worry about Plausible Deniability, afterall, since she's not a Temple official.

Brishen remains blissfully unaware of Envoy's thoughts. "Though, if you have the time I wouldn't mind looking at the mausoleum with you, before you leave. I don't think Francisco will be busy for very much longer."

Envoy nods again. "Do you think there will be clues there about who was supposed to deliver that letter to you?"

Brishen takes a few steps towards the mausoleum, then pauses. "I suppose there may be. I would very much like to see if there are any letters like it remaining."

Envoy nods, and follows the batbat.

Brishen shrugs after a moment, then continues towards what passes for an entry to the mausoleum.

Envoy relights her small candle.

The mausoleum, angled to be shaded even in the daytime and with a recessed entrance, looms over the much smaller bat and the Exile. Its columns stand just a little off from true vertical, slanted inward to give the impression as one passes beneath the portice that it is much taller than it really is. Envoy's light shows the floor, covered with detritus such as dead vermites curled up into little balls so only their shells show. These 'vermite balls' are fragile, crunching underfoot like so many eggshells.

Searching through the debris could take some time, but footsteps in the dust show where Envoy must have found the letter while taking rubbings off of the walls.

Envoy decides to look up information about the odd architectural style shared by buildings in this part of the Old City. It may provide a good time reference.

Brishen looks back at Envoy. "Where did you find the letter, exactly?"

Envoy squats down to shine the candlelight on the a smudged area of dust, next to her own footprints. "I stepped on it here, near the entry."

The mausoleum extends inward for a fair distance, and surrounds a block of stone that has been carved with amazing amounts of writing, most of it unfortunately aged for thousands of years beyond recognition.

Numerous little black vermite-things scamper away from the spot as soon as a strong light intrudes upon their privacy. The small bones of some tiny animal, perhaps as long as Brishen's hand, remain there. Probably dead for years.

Brishen finds her way, as one would expect, more by sound than light, though she does whisper to Envoy as she reaches the block. "Bring the torch over here, and don't touch anything. Well, more than what has been touched already."

It doesn't look like there's much else there in the way of… recent writing. In fact, the area has a certain peculiar stink to it.

Bringing the light closer to Brishen, Envoy says, "I wiped off some of the dust and grime before taking the rubbings."

Something creaks in the back of the crypt, the shadows far too deep to make it out…

Brishen looks towards the sound, abruptly. For those with ears keen enough to hear, it's obvious she's painting the back of the mausoleum with sound.

Envoy wonders quietly, "I wonder why they make these places so dark and depressing. You'd think dead people would want more color and light. Maybe some plants."

Things scrabble against the stone floor, accompanying the bone-dry creaking.

Brishen glances at Envoy. "I doubt dead people would care about that very much. Please turn around and leave as quickly as you can." She takes her own advice, drawing her sword as she backs up.

Envoy blinks at the odd command, but follows it nonetheless.

Something's definitely moving inside the crypt, something bigger than a vermite. As Envoy's tiny light is carried outside, Brishen catches a glimpse of long bony limbs, long hanging streamers of cloth or vegetation. It picks up speed as it senses the two mortals leaving the mausoleum.

Brishen grits her teeth, pulling Envoy along out of the crypt if the Exile is slower, her wings flapping as she's also likely to be the one left behind. There appears no intention on her part to guard the door, only to get far away.

Envoy nearly drops the candle as she's dragged outside, "What's wrong?"

It's faster than Brishen might have expected, a sword showing from one bony limb as it lunges for the exit, apparently trying to stop them from escaping unscathed. "Ha-a-alt!" it rasps in a voice that might have come from the grave. Glints of armor plates show over its body, wildly flickering as Envoy tries to keep her grip on the candle.

Brishen shakes her head. "I don't know. Run. Run fast!"

Envoy hesitates at the sound of the voice, then runs after Brishen.

*Slash!* A chitinous blade stabs out of the darkened crypt door and into the back of Envoy's left thigh! The monstrosity steps out of the crypt and into the shadowed entrance area, revealing itself to be a heavily damaged Zelak, its carapace streaked with moss and other substances dripping liberally from its limbs. One of its blades has broken off to some unknowable accident, and the other now drips with an inch of blood at the tip.

The area outside looks nearly deserted – the mage fox is no longer present.

Envoy stumbles from the attack, and click-pops in her Shkarkin-accented Zelak, "Identify Yourself!". The candle's gone out, and she's more concerned with trying to stand up than with retrieving it.

Brishen looks around, quickly. "Francisco?!" Then, as the Zelak comes into view, she gathers a firm grip on her sword, furling her wings tightly behind her as she darts back to the front of the mausoleum and Envoy's side. She has been practicing with the slender chitin blade, it seems, and she does not shake as she stares at the mutilated Zelak with bright brown eyes.

More concerned with possible infection than with the wound itself, Envoy wishes she had some water to wash it out with before it heals. No telling what was on that Zelak's barb…

"Warrior unit of Shkarkin Hive, designated Bem in pursuit-pursuit-pursuit of renegade scout unit Envoy," the rather haunted-looking Zelak clacks. It weaves upon its legs unsteadily, trying to find an unguarded path around Brishen.

Envoy blinks in surprise. "Bem! What are you talking about? I'm not a renegade. Stop threatening Brishen!"

Brishen shouts. "Envoy, run!" The Zelak's remaining blade is a tempting target, and Brishen grins evilly as she swings at it.

Envoy's leg is throbbing too much to make running an option. So she spreads her wings instead and tries to fly to the top of the Aeonian statue with a one-legged launch.

"All units exist to serve the Hive," the Zelak clacks. It lunges forward locking its blade with Brishen's, trying to power her out from its path. "Scout unit has abandoned primary purpose. Scout unit must be terminated!"

Two Eeee guards descend from the air, one of them sporting a large patch missing from the backside of his trousers, and the other armed with a large polearm. "We'll save you, Ambassador!" one squeaks.

Brishen snarls, baring her teeth at the thing as she fights to keep her footing, then ducks away from the blade. With that not an option, the next arc of her sword sweeps up with the intent of removing the creature's head.

Clinging to the face of the statue now, Envoy chatters back, "You are not qualified to make that determination, stand down!"

*clank!* The bat may have thought her shot was a sure stroke, but the Zelak seems to, with almost contemptuous ease, to lock its blade beneath the guard of her ceremonial sword and send it flying, a testimony to the dazzling reflexes that make Zelaks such prized guards and servants of the law. The Zelak looks down at the disarmed ambassador, its black eyes glinting, then up at the Aeonian statue. It rasps, voice breathy with long disuse, "Termination of function is only honorable remaining way to serve the Hive."

The two guards split up, one moving in on each side of the Zelak, though keeping out of limb's reach for now…

Brishen squeaks, cursing as she backs up, keeping the Zelak very much in view. The sword's her destination, though she's considerably more interested in getting out of the way of the insect's remaining blade.

The sword glitters enticingly not far from the base of the Aeonian statue, about ten feet away from Brishen.

"Yah! Over here, bug!" squeaks the Eeee missing the seat of his trousers. "You look like DINNER to me!" He waves his hands around, in an attempt to distract the Zelak from Brishen.

Envoy thinks of the other crippled Shkarkin Zelak, left in the care of the airplane inventing Eeee. "I can't let you terminate me Bem. But if you continue like this, you will end up being terminated!"

Brishen uses the distraction to edge closer to the sword. "Keep out of reach! And use that polearm – It's hurt, but it's still fast!"

The Zelak pauses, swiveling its head to scan the Eeee, then back again to the Aeonian statue and Envoy. It strides forward instead, purposefully, almost overrunning the Ambassador. "Termination of function is only remaining honorable way to serve the Hive," it rasps again.

The unarmed guard abandons his fruitless attempt at distraction, this time throwing himself between Brishen and the Zelak. "Ambassador!" he cries out, as the second guard makes a desperate thrust with his polearm.

Envoy freezes in indecision. Should she let Bem attack her, so that the Eeee won't be hurt? Or does Bem WANT the Eeee to kill him?

Brishen squeaks, scrambling out of the Zelak's way, then skids to a scrabbled halt on the rough stone and earth. "I said, keep out of reach! Use your arms – Throw rocks at the damned thing!" If the sword is in reach, it's certainly something she'll want to pick up.

*CLAK!* The polearm strikes the Zelak along the back to one side but does no damage, causing it to stop and turn in an instant. It brings one arm up like a shield, and seems to be pondering whether the guard merits killing or not.

"What do you want me to do!" Envoy screeches at the Zelak.

The Zelak replies implacably, "Terminate function." It stares at the armed guard, holding its place… For the moment.

Brishen grits her teeth at the sword, so close yet so… If she had time for it she'd shrug as she takes to the air, urging the unarmed guard on to do the same. "Use your wings! Up! Fly! We'll take it where we have the advantage!" The last, as Brishen grows more interested in survival than the local tongue, is shouted out in high-pitched Eeee.

Envoy finally finishes climbing to the top of the Aeonian's stone head, and calls down, "I hereby terminate my function of Scout for Shkarkin Hive. I am now Scout for Lothrhyn Hive again."

The polearm-bearing bat lifts off the ground at Brishen's command. The bat in bad need of a patch on his trousers picks up a jagged piece of stone and takes to the air. "Dagh-take-it! Stop resisting capture and surrender NOW!" He flings the stone at the Zelak's head.

The Zelak stands stock still, the stone glancing off of its head, leaving another mark. As the other guard departs, it turns back with infinite slowness to stare directly at Envoy.

Envoy flicks some of the blood from her wound down at the Zelak. "Smell! Do I smell of Shkarkin still?"

Envoy bares her neck and shoulder as well. "Do I still bear the mark of the Queen?" The scar has long since faded.

The Zelak takes this in the silence of the dead: with no way to tell if it's listening, Envoy might as well be talking to a statue.

Brishen wishes, for a moment, that she knew just what Envoy was saying to the Zelak – And, upon consideration, what she was doing to it. She looks about for her sword, then shrugs and swoops over to the guard with the polearm. Then, she turns to Keega. "I'm glad you're okay, incidentally. Now, go to the Embassy and get some bows."

"Is there any spoor of Scout Envoy of Shkarkin Hive?" the Exile goes on, in the wierd clicking-hissing language. "If Scout Envoy no longer exists, your duty is completed."

Keega squeaks at the Ambassador, "Immediately! We'll have Zelak On A Stick!" He laughs loudly as he wings back toward the Embassy.

The Zelak begins to walk toward the statue, in slow but implacable steps. Even as heavily damaged and scuffed as it has been, with its armor it resembles a knight of old shambling out of legends.

Or perhaps a dark nightmare, a monster that won't die until every limb has been broken from it.

Brishen shakes her head, then whispers to the guard beside her. "When I tell you, aim for the legs."

Envoy frowns. Why won't Bem leave before they come back and skewer him!? "Your mission is completed. Return to the Hive for reassignment." she urges.

The Zelak stops at the base of the statue, then begins to climb it without hurry. It's within blade-range… And yet it hasn't attacked yet.

The polearm-carrying guard nods to Brishen, and readies to strike.

Brishen bites her lower lip, then carefully floats about to the opposite side of the Zelak. Perhaps, there's still a chance to get her sword.

Envoy tenses. If she tries to glide away now, her healing leg could suffer more damage on landing than from the original stab wound.

Bem's claw-hands close upon Envoy's hands, upon the top of the Aeonian statue. Its eyes stare into hers, as it pushes its head close: up close, the facets that make up its lenses are easy to discern, and show reflections of Envoy broken into many pieces. The long blade juts awkwardly over the Aeonian's horn.

The Exile holds her breath, staring into the jewel-like eyes. "I'm sorry Bem, I wasn't a very worthy Zelak for you to protect," she admits, using Standard now.

Brishen floats down to perch atop the remnant of a tombstone near where her sword juts from the ground. Near enough to reach, if she needs to, though for the moment she does not strike.

Envoy also realizes that if Bem is shot down now, he'll probably drag her to the ground with him. She hopes her lack of Shkarkin cues will be enough to satisfy the Zelak.

"Scout unit Envoy of Shkarkin Hive no longer exists. Warrior unit has failed in function." Bem releases Envoy's hands, but its eyes remain upon Envoy's like broken mirrors. "Warrior unit must return to Shkarkin Hive for reassignment."

The Zelak's speech is, of course, thoroughly unintelligible to the Eeees…

Envoy lets out her breath slowly.

Brishen looks, over the Zelak, at the guard in the air above. "Wait… Wait. Stay right where you are."

The Zelak climbs down slowly, its blade scraping against the stone, acquiring more notches. On the ground, it swivels its dark eyes to regard Brishen.

"He won't attack now," Envoy calls to the Eeees. At least, as long they stay in the air she's reasonably sure Bem won't attack them…

Brishen remains very still, though the sword still catches her attention, out of the corner of her eye. Her wings, still spread, tense faintly.

The other bat returns, bearing a couple of bows, looking as if he's trying to load one in mid-flight in his haste.

Wordless, the Zelak continues past Brishen and into the depths of the Old City. Bits of moss trail behind it.

Envoy carefully begins to climb down from the statue, making sure not to jar her still tender leg.

Brishen darts for her sword as she throws herself into the air, aloft before the tip of the blade leaves the ground. "Keega! Keep an eye on that thing. Don't shoot it, and don't follow it. I want to know where it's going, not for you to chase it into the Old City."

Envoy pauses at the Aeonian's shoulder, then climbs back up a bit and looks along the statue's muzzle.

The Zelak continues out of sight. The Old City is a vast place filled with ruins and mausoleums, and refugees from the cold who have nowhere else to go to get out of the wind. Who will notice one more wreck travelling its streets?

Envoy will still need to get directions to the Hive for Bem, and arrange transport. More unfinished business in a short life filled with such events. She tries to concentrate instead on the view she's noticed from the Aeonian's head…

"Brishen, can you land on this head?" Envoy calls.

Brishen shakes her head, then swoops about in a wide circle over the mausoleum, "I'd really rather not. That's an old statue."

"It's important," Envoy insists. "There's something you should see."

Brishen calls out to the guard with the polearm. "Keep an eye out for Mage Francisco. I haven't seen him since before the Zelak attacked us."

Keega lands, bow in hand. "Ah … where'd it go?" He looks about for the Zelak.

Brishen lands nearby, looking up at the statue. "It went into the Old City, Keega. Get some air under your wings, and make sure it keeps on doing so. Don't attack it, just let me know where it goes."

"Of course, Ambassador!" The bat bows … pauses to give a sour look at Envoy … then flies after the big bug.

Brishen flaps her wings a few times as she pulls herself into the air again, then swoops close around the statue, her wings tucked in, in an attempt to get a look at what has gotten Envoy so interested.

Envoy points out along the statue's line of sight. "Do you see a pattern out there? Starting at the painting on the broken wall below?"

Brishen spirals up into the air, where she can at the very least get a better look at how the area is arranged.

Envoy calls, "It should look like the profile of an Aeonian head, only with squiggly lines around the eye."

Brishen shakes her head, "I can't see anything like that. The stones are all more or less the same to me."

Envoy wonders how she's supposed to show the 'image' to Brishen now, if the bat can't see it herself. The Exile doesn't know how to draw.

Brishen looks at the statue. Her skepticism that it'll hold two people is painfully obvious. "Maybe if you climbed down from the statue, I could get a better look at it."

Envoy says, "I think it might be something drawn by Kame Ikata. He used to live in the Embassy building, he's kept at the Asylum, and the stylistic elements resemble some I've seen in other paintings of his. That, and it's composed of… available materials."

Envoy climbs down slowly. Surely if the statue could hold her and Bem, Brishen's spare frame isn't going to knock it over.

Brishen waits until Envoy has reached the ground, then carefully settles down on the statue. "Perhaps you should get a look at things from above."

Envoy says, "I can't fly yet. Or rather, landing would interfere with the completion of my thigh muscles reknitting correctly."

Brishen nods. "I'll keep that in mind. Will you need to be carried back to the Embassy?" She looks over the head of the statue, squinting.

"I can walk okay," Envoy says, and walks over to the broken wall that once belonged to another mausoleum, to see what was used to paint it. "I'm sorry if Bem caused you trouble."

Brishen snorts, somewhere above the Exile, then with a flutter of dark wings lands on the ground nearby. "I didn't see anything."

Envoy hmms. "Do you know any artists then?"

Brishen furls her wings behind her, shrugging. "I can't say that I do, offhand."

Envoy frowns, "The only one I know is insane, but he probably created this anyway." Maybe that model-building technopriestess can draw…

"It may not be important anyway. I'd go to the Asylum to see if I could talk to Kame, but… " Envoy shrugs. "He's not very talkative, and I'm afraid to go there without someone to vouch for my sanity."

Brishen blinks a few times. "I'd rather not draw other people into this right now, Envoy. I'll see what I can do about finding an artist."

Brishen casts a curious glance at the painted wall, though her attention has already wandered off to what she'll need to do at the Embassy, later today. Perhaps there'll be more documents to sign. Won't that be fun!

Envoy glances towards the alley Bem disappeared down. And that's the best resolution to a relationship I've had so far on this world, she thinks. "I'll let you know if I find out anything at the College about the inscriptions."

Brishen grins. "Then it's settled. I'll let the guards know you're to be let into the Embassy and I'll talk to Keega about what happened today."

Envoy smiles. "I'll use the back door."

Brishen grins. "There isn't one."

Envoy blinks. "You should have one installed then… oh, nevermind. I guess an Embassy for fliers really doesn't need an escape route."

Brishen hops along a line of ragged stones, to where she can get a better look at the painted wall.

The painted wall looks like an enormous bug spontaneously exploded right next to it.

Here and there are some small bug legs pasted into the long-dried goo. Okay, so maybe lots and lots of much smaller bugs spontaneously exploded on the wall, then.

Brishen wrinkles her nose. "Perhaps, it's time we got back to the Embassy."

Envoy eyes the bug spatter. Would that make an Eeee hungry, or just the opposite? "Alright."

Brishen glances at Envoy's then at the remaining guard. "Make sure Keega gets back to the Embassy without maiming himself. And keep an eye out for the mage as well. I suspect he's already returned to the Embassy, but I want to be certain of it."

"As you wish, Ambassador!" answers the guard, and he takes flight.

Envoy casually asks Brishen, "What's a good way to get bloodstains out of clothing?"

Brishen stares at Envoy for a moment, then shrugs. "I honestly have no idea. We'll ask Degarde. He'll squirm."