Sitting on the shoulder of a stone Aeonian, Envoy wonders if she really should have listened to the backwards talking Skreek. So far, there hasn't been anything resembling a ghost, or a Savanite artist, wandering the area. The lack of activity, save for a few Embassy security patrols and the usual scurryings and shadows one expects of Darkside, has given her lots of time for introspection. It's still something new to her, and required creating a detached mindset, but the benefits so far have outweighed the disadvantages.

A shadow separates itself from one of the tombstones, barely visible just out of the corner of Envoy's eye. The average person, who probably wouldn't choose to be in a place like this in the first place, might imagine that the cemetary is "getting to her", or that it's a trick of the light, or something along those lines. Or it could just be a wild creature.

Envoy focuses her attention on the new movement. One of the reasons she chose her perch was that she didn't think many people would look UP while skulking through a cemetary or haunting insane Skreeks.

The shadow continues to move. No, it wasn't a trick of the light … but there's something that some might consider disturbing about it, maybe even ghostly. A slender female form glides through the cemetary, wearing a tattered robe, threads of which dangle behind and blow about in the light breeze that occasionally stirs up the low-hanging mists. She has long, jet black hair, devoid of any highlights in the pale glow of the Procession. Her face is obscured by a mask of cracked, dirt-crusted porcelain.

Envoy hmms. Brishen asked her about a masked vixen ghost… maybe this is the same one? Or maybe all ghosts wear masks. "Excuse me," she calls softly, "but are you a ghost? I'm looking for the ghost of Kame Ikata."

The ghostly figure stops, some strands of hair blowing across her face. She brushes them aside, then, in a raspy voice hisses, "I am Amaranth, and you are an intruder on my domain."

Envoy blinks, and leans forward a bit to get a better look at the ghost. "I don't understand. Do you mean the statue?"

The figure holds her arms outward in an encompassing gesture. "All of this is mine – All of these ruins and broken monuments. Here is my kingdom. Here are my subjects."

Ever since Qing showed her that she has a spirit, Envoy's curiousity about these things has grown. "I see. How do you become monarch like that? Do you enjoy it? I don't suppose you know who created the profile of the unicorn that you can only see properly from this statue? What do ghosts do with their time? Is the air colder around you?"

There is a long pause from the figure, and then she hisses, "I am because I have the POWER! And I ENJOY power! And do you know how I GAIN power?"

Envoy shakes her head, "No, I don't. I didn't think ghosts could have power."

"Power comes from the living," the figure hisses, slowly approaching the statue. "And I feed upon the living. You are an Exile, are you not? The blood of an Exile is very potent." She gestures with her bony claws as she speaks. If they can be called claws. They look as if they were once covered in tattered gloves, but now have bits of bone protruding from the fingertips.

Envoy asks. "How can you drink blood though if you're insubstantial like that?"

The apparition laughs, throwing back her hair. "Insubstantial? Oh, I am QUITE substantial! I have the strength of twenty mortals! If I so will it, I can rip your head free from your shoulders, and drink freely of the sweet nectar that flows from within!" She cackles wildly and loudly. There's a ringing in Envoy's ears.

Envoy shakes her head to try and stop the ringing. "Why would you want to do that though? It's not very nice, and it sounds like it would use up more energy than you got in return. Do you hear any ringing?"

The ringing stops as soon as Envoy makes the comment. The figure issues what sounds like a curse in some language Envoy is unfamiliar with. "Those bats! I'll deal with you later, Exile!" She grabs the skirts of her tattered robe, and starts dashing away, her digitigrade paws scuffing the debris and detritus that litters the ground, and stirring up the mists. She trips over one of the broken stones in her haste, but quickly recovers, making pretty good speed that indicates that she is quite familiar with the territory. Whether it will outpace Eeee wings remains to be seen, though, as a shadow glides overhead from the direction of the Embassy.

Envoy blinks in surprise. She didn't expect a ghost to trip over things. Maybe she really is more substantial, and not really a proper ghost at all. "None of which helps me figure out this picture on the ground."

The figure departs quickly, and the bat guard starts weaving back and forth. As he scans, every once in a while Envoy's ears pick up a high-pitched ring that quickly fades again. There is no further sign of the ghostly figure, though.

Figuring that a being as powerful as Amaranth claimed to be shouldn't be afraid of a few Eees, Envoy decides the spectre probably isn't dangerous after all, and was just trying to scare her.

The bat guard dives down, and disappears from sight. Envoy is left alone on top of the old monument.

Envoy leans against the cool stone head of the unicorn, and waits to see if the ghost she wants actually appears. Or maybe Sdrawkcab needs to set out his offerings first.

Time passes. There is no sign of the ghost. At last, though, a winged shadowy form rises from the graves … but it's just the guard, apparently abandoning his search. He wings back toward the Embassy in a straight line.

Swinging her legs back and forth, Envoy tries once more to decide which set of drives she should follow, the one she calls Person or the one dubbed Probe. She works on analyzing them while she waits for something to happen. It's a good thing she doesn't need much sleep. What was that Eeee looking for anyway, she wonders.

Time passes, as the last remnants of sunset are fully gone, and a cloudless sky allows the Procession to bathe the graveyard in dim light. Eventually, another shadow appears, walking amongst the tombstones. This one is a bit taller than the previous ghostly apparition. It also possesses two red, glowing eyes.

Envoy goes still, and watches. From the eyes, however, she assumes the shadow is one of the vampire Eees, and probably not a ghost.

Little squeaking noises can be heard as the figure's path takes him closer to the statue. Other little red dots can be seen in the dim light, these much smaller … and closer to the ground. Here and there, where a pale gray stone surface is open to the sky, skittering black forms sweep across, then disappear into the shadows again. They circle about the feet of the dark stranger, his wings sweeping behind him like a cape. He quietly chuckles to himself menacingly, as if he's just thought of something really clever.

"Hello Wyckyd," Envoy says from her perch. "I'm afraid Fenter isn't here right now, and you've already missed Amaranth if you were planning to meet her."

Wyckyd looks up to Envoy. "Ah! Ah! I … I KNEW you wewe thewe! Bwahahahahaa! Yeth, I am planning a great and deviouth plot to foil my awch-nemethith Fentew, onthe and fowah all!" He pauses, looking around, then says, "Want to heaw it, tho you can be awed at my mathtewy of mental powewth?"

Envoy smiles, "Sure."

Wyckyd clears his throat, then rumbles, "Fentew, ath you well know, ith loved by thothe dethpicable vewmite-eating Vykawinth! They think he ith a Thky-God! Well, it ith my plan to woo them away fwom him … by pwoving to them that I am an even GWEATEW SKY GOD! By uthing my conthidewable powewth, I can thummon food to fill theiw tummies. My thewvantth thhall bwing it fwom the Bathaaw, the gweathietht foodth that a Vykawin might pothibly love! And Fentew cannot POTHIBLY compete with THAT! Bwahahahahahahaa!"

Envoy says, "Won't they just eat your minions too though?"

Wyckyd rears back, laughing maniacally. "Then, he thall be NOTHING! He thall gwovel befowe me, being made awawe of jutht how INTHIGNIFICANT he weally ITH! Bwahahahahahaa!"

Wyckyd blinks a few times, then stops his laughing. "Oh."

Wyckyd says, "I hadn't thought of that."

Swishing her legs again, Envoy asks, "What would you do after you defeated Fenter? Do you have a spell that lets you control people like you control vermites?"

"Or perhaps one that turns people into vermites," the Exile suggests. "I suppose that would have the same effect."

Wyckyd hmms, and turns around, starting to go back the way he came. "Pewhapth I need to wowk on thith a little mowe… "

"Well, good luck!" Envoy calls after the bat. "I'm sure you'll take over the world before Fenter does, unless he does it on accident of course."

Envoy ponders ways to take over the world. She assumes the postal services would need to be involved in some way, though.

Wyckyd bwa-ha-has again. "I have done it onthe alweady! Bwahahahaa!" And with that, he slides off into the darkness. A shadowy bat guard glides overhead, but he's too late to find the criminal mastermind.

Envoy tries to pick out the guard against the Procession, and wonders if it's anyone she's met before.

The guard sports black fur and white head hair. He's definitely not of the glowing-red-eyes type.

The Exile suffers a brief pang of nostalgia. "I wonder how Channa is doing," she says quietly to herself.

The guard vanishes, and the night passes on. There is an occasional vermite, but not the sort of swarm that would herald a return of the Lord of Vermites.

Envoy's mind drifts from introspection to other things, such as how Wyckyd controls the vermites. Is it a psychic ability of some sort, or does he just painstakingly train each individual?

More time passes. The lights of an airship pass by, far overhead, a little further inland than most would be, heading for the docks. Not particularly unusual, though.

Another shadow makes its way through the tombs. This one is considerably shorter than any Envoy has seen so far tonight. Okay, not shorter than the vermites. Shorter than those on two legs, that is. Every once in a while, a light *ding* can be heard as the stocky figure makes his way expertly across the stones, only occasionally tripping and smacking onto his tail or nose, and then getting right back up again and continuing.

Envoy recognizes the bell… Sdrawkcab must be taking his nightly constitutional. She tries to pay close attention to his path, and anything he might leave behind.

The blindfolded Skreek – free of any clotheslines – makes his way into the clearing in front of the ruined mausoleum, standing right in front of Envoy and the statue. He mutters some unintelligible words (which aren't clear enough to even make any sense of backwards) as he digs into a bag and carefully lays piles of bugs and grubs – some squirming, some not, some quickly skittering away – on various stones near the base of the wall.

Envoy wishes for better light… or better nightvision… so she could see what sort of bugs the Skreek was laying out. Where would he get a bag of bugs at this hour? Would an Eeee merchant be able to understand him?

The Skreek finishes his ritual, then chants, "Ti teg dna emoc! Ti teg dna emoc!" He then ducks his head and scurries away, deftly ducking just in time to avoid getting clobbered by a low-hanging, leaning column.

Envoy grins to herself. The blindfolded Skreek seems to know his way through the cemetary better than Amaranth did.

The Skreek disappears into the darkness, unpursued. Silence falls upon the graveyard as the *ding* sounds become more distant and then inaudible entirely. Another bat guard flies overhead – no, a careful watch reveals it to be the same one, and he's looking a mite bit frustrated – but he's too late. He mutters something to himself in his squeaky voice, then wings back to the Embassy.

Keeping close watch on the stones near the wall, Envoy waits to see if anyone comes to eat the remaining bugs there.

More time passes. A breeze tousles Envoy's mane. Many of the bugs skitter away, leaving only half of the offering there.

Envoy wonders if the Eeee or other insectivores ever wonder what the bugs they eat like to feed on themselves. She gets momentarily lost in the food chain during the lull.

There's a sound of stone scraping on stone, and there's a vibration that runs through Envoy's perch.

The Exile grabs onto the statue's horn for balance, and looks around to see if anything else is shaking. How can a flying island have an earthquake?

Nothing seems to be moving … other than the statue. With a few jerking motions, it slowly scoots sideways, sliding on its wide pedestal base. It would seem that some of the tiles at the base serve, in fact, as grooves. Some sounds can be heard from the gaping hole that appears beneath the base of the statue, but they quickly silence.

Envoy gapes in amazement at the secret portal. This is way more interesting than dead masked women and monomaniacal bats!

A spotted, furry head pokes out of the hole, topped with a paint-spattered beret, and looks around, scanning the surroundings. All of the surroundings, that is, except for those immediately above him. Satisfied with his survey, the cheetah clambers up out of the hole, and quickly darts over toward the offerings that Sdrawkcab left for him, scooping them up into a belt-pouch, then rummaging around to find some of those trying to get away.

Envoy blinks three times! It's NOT Kame's ghost, but the living artist himself! "Kame!" she calls down excitedly, and starts to climb down the statue as well.

The artist stops in the middle of stuffing one of the grubs on his mouth. His tail goes rigid and the fur stands out like a bottle-brush. He makes a choking noise.

Envoy reaches the ground, and wonders why the cheetah is choking. "Don't worry, I'm not a ghost," she says reassuringly. "I had noticed the work you've been doing to this area, and was hoping you could explain it to me." After a moment, the Exile adds, "That's if you're not still insane of course."

The cheetah coughs some more, then dislodges the bug he was munching on, and takes a few deep breaths. He looks both ways, as if expecting a whole crowd of Envoys to leap upon him. Seeing none, he relaxes a bit. He's quiet, as per usual … and at last just smiles and waves. His ears wiggle a couple of times, but it seems a forced gesture.

Envoy smiles and steps closer, "Do you remember me from Avi Kromo's party?"

The cheetah nods several times.

"I like your image of the unicorn that can be seen from up on the statue. Is it anyone in particular?" the Exile asks.

The cheetah scratches his head, then points at the image … then points at the statue … then shrugs and smiles.

Envoy blinks, "It's just an image of the statue subject then? Do you know who it is though? Why do you live underneath it now? You haven't turned into an undead bloodsucking zombie critter that has to sleep in a grave all day, have you?"

The cheetah nods, then shakes his head side to side, then shrugs, then shakes his head from side to side.

"Did you know that people think you're dead?" Envoy asks. "Your paintings are probably really valuable now. You could be rich." She tries to take a peek down the hidey-hole, wondering who put it there.

The cheetah nods his head, then shrugs, then shakes his head from side to side and frowns.

Envoy wonders why the Savanite isn't using his hands to talk with. She signs, "You haven't forgotten how to sign have you?"

The hidey-hole looks to be of quite sturdy construction, resembling the sort of construction one might find in the sewers, only minus the smell. Cleverly cut rungs of stone provide a means of access down the shaft, though it must be somewhat clumsy to navigate with digitigrade feet. Kame has demonstrated, however, that it's still possible, probably with practice.

The cheetah shakes his head from side to side and shrugs.

Envoy says, "Does anyone else live down there? Are you doing okay out here? Do you still paint pictures of wiggly eyes?"

The cheetah shakes his head from side to side, nods his head up and down, then shakes his head from side to side. He reaches up with one hand to rub his neck.

Envoy frowns slightly. She's not sure if it's healthy for someone to live underground in a hole all alone and only come out late at night to eat bugs.

He does look rather unkempt, and more gaunt than Envoy remembers him. His clothes need patching, he needs a bath (or several), and he coughs quietly on occasion or sniffles. But when he's not doing that, he puts on a friendly-enough looking smile.

"Are you sure you're okay?" she asks again. "What have you been doing since you… um, 'died'?"

The Savanite smiles, his ears wiggle (more convincingly this time), and he pulls a brush from his belt and waves it around, as if dabbing something on the air.

Envoy smiles, "May I see what you've been working on then?"

The cheetah looks about, takes a deep breath, then shrugs, and points down into the hole. He scoops up a few more bugs, stuffs them in his pouch, then heads over to the hole, and starts to climb down.

Envoy climbs down after, and hopes there's some sort of light at the bottom…

So far, it doesn't appear that there is. The handholds go down for a considerable distance – enough that Envoy wouldn't want to simply DROP down the hole, since her wings wouldn't have quite enough room to provide lift – but the footfalls of Kame can be heard as he steps onto solid floor … and soon thereafter, Envoy finds a solid footing as well. Ratcheting and cranking noises betray Kame's position just down a short corridor, and overhead, those noises can be heard of stone scraping on stone once more.

Envoy shudders briefly, reminded too much of her time in the Temple prison.

There's another scraping noise, and then a thin line of light appears, near to the ground. It becomes less thin, and a shadow moves in front of it … and then it opens up, revealed to be a door, beyond which is a hallway. The stone corridor has recessed nooks, holding flickering torches, some of them near to the point of sputtering out.

Envoy ooos appreciatively. It's like finding a hidden city in your own backyard! What two-year-old wouldn't be thrilled by that?

The cheetah smiles, and his ears wiggle. He holds up an index finger, then makes a "come along" gesture, pointing to the next door … which he holds open for the Aeolun. There is another lit room beyond, this one expanding a bit in size.

Envoy hurries along inside, eyes wide and eager for the next amazing thing.

This room, a much wider version of the corridor Envoy just came through, has large walls, these mostly devoid of the torch-holding alcoves Envoy saw earlier, but instead lit by torches of glass mounted in the ceiling, protected by reinforced bars. In other words, lightbulbs. Pipes run along some of the walls, and hissing noises can be heard, hinting at fluids running through them. The floor rumbles ever so faintly, hinting at machines deep below. But more importantly to the Savanite, apparently, would be the murals painted on all the available flat surfaces.

Painted in bright colors is a mirage of images of personages of various races, in a collage of different scenes that seem to have nothing whatsoever to do with each other. Some of the attire of the characters looks to be ancient, and the stylization of their representation looks similar to some of the carvings and statues seen in the graveyard.

The Exile pauses to absorb everything. This is remarkable! "How did you find this place? And these murals … Are you trying to depict a Golden Age?"

The artist looks to the Exile, then, with an apologetic look, shakes his head and shrugs.

"It's still beautiful!" Envoy gushes. "Do you sleep in here? How do you get your paint?"

The artist points to a cot over in the corner. It, too, looks like it badly needs cleaning.

Envoy frowns at the condition of the cot. Kame clearly needs a housekeeper, and a proper diet…

"When was the last time you had real meat," she asks in a concerned voice, "or some fresh fruit?"

Kame frowns and shrugs. He walks over to a cobbled-together table, made from broken crates, and pulls out his pouch. He spills out some of the bugs and starts sorting them into piles. Those that try to stray from their piles, he pushes down, gluing them in place in a manner of speaking. Then, he starts grinding some up. The different bugs have brightly-colored … ah … juices. He picks up a stoppered bottle, and pops the top, and mixes in a trace amount of some foul-smelling fluid. It smells like some of the cleaning agents that the sewer teams would use. In fact, some faded labelling on the bottle suggests it might have been scavanged from some of their stores.

The cheetah mixes the bug guts and the chemical, and some other fluids he mixes in, then sets them out, as vapors rise from the colorful mess.

As much as Envoy is impressed by the Savanite's ingenuity, she can't help but think he should be using proper materials. "Kame, if I brought you paint, would you use it instead of making your own?"

The cheetah looks as if he's having to think long and hard about this, then shrugs. He scrapes away some of the pigments into some bottles, then carefully wipes off his paws with a dirty rag that has many holes eaten into it. His paws have a few bare spots where the fur has been worn away. It doesn't look good.

Envoy wonders how expensive proper art supplies are. And beddings. And clothes that would fit a lanky Savanite. "Do you ever get out during the day? There must be another entrance to this place besides the statue."

The Savanite shakes his head up and down, then nods up and down, and holds up one finger, then two, then three, then four, five, then shrugs and smiles.

Envoy blinks in confusion. "I wish you would sign. That can't be good for your neck."

The cheetah shakes his head side to side, then rubs his neck again.

Envoy considers rubbing Kame's neck to ease the muscles, but there's nothing for her to stand on so that she can reach. "I want to bring you some better food and supplies, if you're going to stay down here. Is that okay, Kame?"

Kame looks at Envoy, then smiles and shakes his head. He points up, wiggles his finger around, then makes a gesture like he's strangling himself, and some choking noises. He then stops, and wipes his brow, points up again, and shakes his head from side to side.

Envoy says, "You don't want anything from the … outside world? It strangles you?"

The cheetah scratches his head, as if pondering something, then smiles and nods. He then gets up and gestures to Envoy with another "follow me", and goes over to some of the paintings. There is some scaffolding that allows access to higher places along the wall – the sort of thing, again, that the sewer clean-up crews might use in certain places.

Envoy follows, and looks at the scaffolding, then looks up at the ceiling.

There are several paintings, most of the subjects looking like nobles. One of them is of an Aeonian who is garbed in the same way that the statue was that Envoy was perched on earlier. Its surrounding looks somewhat Templesque in its architecture … but then, many of the scenes could be described that way. The extrapolation might be historical, or it might merely be fanciful.

Here and there, others of the subjects resemble images that Envoy has seen in the graveyard. Busts of figures have been extrapolated into full figures. Badly worn faces have been given a bit of artistic license. But here and there are portraits of the populace of the Old Cemetary as they might have looked in life.

"This is quite a project you've undertaken," Envoy says as she looks back at Kame. "But if you don't take care of yourself better, you might not be able to finish it."

The spotted artist sighs, his shoulders drooping as he looks upon several of the unfinished parts of the mural.

Envoy wonders, "Do I sound like your mother? Well, not sound like her, obviously, but … "

The artist's ears wiggle, and he smiles.

"I know artists are supposed to be a bit eccentric," the Aeolun says, "but not to the point of being self-destructive. Don't you want to find a nice spotty model someday and raise lots of little fingerpainters?"

The cheetah covers his muzzle at this, and his ears wiggle fiercely.

Envoy smiles, "I'll make you a deal, okay? You let me bring you some real food and clean you up a bit so I won't worry, and I won't let Dr. Narrow know you're still alive."

The artist ponders this, climbs down from his ladder, and comes over to Envoy. He smiles and bows to the Aeolun. He then has a questioning look on his face. He holds his hands out to Envoy, then scoops them toward himself … then points at himself, makes a scooping gesture toward Envoy … then spreads his hands apart with open fingers.

Envoy blinks, "Are you asking me to dance?"

The cheetah's ears wiggle fiercely again, and he sighs. He looks at his fingers, wiggles them, then puts his hands together and cracks his knuckles.

Envoy hopes this means Kame is finally going to talk to her.

The cheetah sighs, then signs, "Fine. I can sign. I just don't like to. I don't like being reminded that I am born a slave. I want to ask you … what do you get from ME? You offer me something, but how do I repay you?"

Envoy blinks. She hadn't thought of repayment…

Envoy says, "I guess I get … a friend? You could let me explore down here too; this place is amazing."

Envoy says, "And you aren't a slave anymore, are you? I mean, you're 'dead' after all. And Savanites are free in some places now."

The cheetah smiles, and his ears get another good wiggling. He takes Envoy's hand in his, and covers it with his free hand. He smirks.

Envoy smiles and laugh-wiggles her ears as well.

The Savanite lets go, then steps back and bows. He stands up again, gestures down one hallway, the other, and to some other doors, gestures to himself, gestures to Envoy, then bows again.

The artist then signs, "My house is your house. Just keep a secret, okay? I will show you a map of what I know. Just don't visit the Asylum or my h – the Embassy. They might not appreciate unwanted guests."

Envoy nods, "Don't worry. If I told anyone, they'd wouldn't let me come down here anymore. Although, in an emergency situation, I do reserve the right to bring in others, if that's okay?"

The cheetah takes a while to ponder this, then signs, "That's only fair. You found me, fair and square. I should have been more careful. I appreciate you letting me stay here."

Envoy smiles. "I'll try to do most of the talking while I'm here too, so you don't have to sign so much."

The cheetah smiles, and gestures for Envoy to follow him. He heads over to a section of wall where some charcoal markings on the wall might look like meaningless scribbles. He points out a few places, and it looks as if this might be, instead, a representation of the area that Envoy is now in, and where she came in … plus a number of other passages that must lead off in different directions underground to various points within the Old Cemetary, Darkside, the Old City … and, of course, the Rephidim Sewer System. Alas, it doesn't like anything reaches so far as the basement of the Temple.

Eyes wide, Envoy notes all of the interesting places to explore. And even better, most of them shouldn't get her into trouble! "This is great Kame! I'll use one of these other Cemetary exits from now on though, since that statue is a bit close to the Embassy and Asylum and all."

Kame makes special trouble to emphasize the tunnels with the stylized hazard markings on them. He pantomimes various means of meeting a violent end in conjunction with following some of the routes, then wipes his brow and shakes his head.

Envoy nods in understanding. "I'll get some string or thread to put across the entries to these places, so we'll see if anyone else is using them."

The cheetah's ears wiggle in amusement. He picks up his paints and goes back to work.

Envoy smiles quietly as the artist goes about his painting, and picks one of the exits on the farther side of the cemetary to use. At least she can tell Brishen that the masked-ghost lady is afraid of her guards. She also smiles to herself. Now she won't have to stay at the Mission, or overnight in one of the Temple broomclosets anymore…