Out of the evening gloom, a cloaked figure comes in for a landing outside of the Grim Fandango on the fringes of Darkside. In the darkness, the being's white and gold wings stand out like a torch before being tightly folded away again. Envoy checks her bearings, and heads towards the warehouse where Brishen's contact is supposed to be waiting.

The warehouse is a run-down building, still standing, but showing no signs of legitimate occupancy. If there are any guards, they're not the types who bother with light sources … and there is none of the familiar ear-ringing that hints at the presence of Eeees sweeping the air with their voices.

The Exile hopes Brishen was able to describe her to the contact, since she doesn't have a password or other means of identification. Coming upon one of the entries, she raps lightly on the door.

The door pops open. A couple of seemingly-disembodied googly eyes look out from the shadows behind, regarding the Aeolun. "Whaga doboo youba wandabat?"

Envoy blinks three times and takes half a step back, trying to place the language being used. Finally, she just says, "Brishen sent me."

A suction-cup-tipped hand – a large one, that is – darts out of the darkness behind the door, grabs Envoy, and yanks her inside! The door slams behind her. "Whebe areba da slabedeves?" the googly-eyed one asks.

Envoy yeeps, then tries to focus on her captor. "The slaves? They're waiting. I came to make sure things were ready and get advice on how to move them best… "

"Youbaga dogettadem hereba, abanda I dogettadem THEREBA," the googly-eyed one replies in a matter-of-fact tone of voice.

Suspicious, Envoy asks, "Where is it you're taking them, exactly. I have no way of knowing you're the correct contact."

"Doobaga youba habeve da tokebaken?" The lizard rubs his palm with his sticky thumb – such as it is. "Ibben youba habeve it, den I knowba youba arebada one, andaba youba knowba I isba tooba."

"I wasn't given any token. What does it look like?" Envoy asks, rubbing her arm where the … gecko?… grabbed her.

The googly-eyed goon laughs, then makes something approximating a shrug with his seemingly boneless shoulders. "Youbadanna knowba muchbadout da Woodobaden Bashekebel!"

Envoy blinks in surprise again. "The Wooden Shekel is arranging this? Okay, I suppose I can trust you then. Do you want me to bring them all at once or two at a time?"

The googly-eyed one looks two different directions at once, and makes a mockery of a thoughtful pose. "Allba atada onecaba isdaa bafasta, budda whabadever workbas forba youba."

"Alright, I'll bring them soon," Envoy tells the lizard, "and I won't be knocking, so don't lock the door behind me."

The lizard nods, and waves a floppy, sticky hand at Envoy.

Envoy slips back through the door and makes her way on foot along the route she intends to take Pathfinder and her family on, making sure it's safe.

"Safe" is, of course, relative, any time that Darkside is involved. Still, the Grim Fandango seems to be situated on the fringe of Darkside … just far enough in to be bad enough for the well-to-do to avoid, but not enough to expect one's life to be threatened every two steps.

Reaching the Old Well at the edge of Darkside, Envoy leans over the rim to peer into the well's depths.

The well is empty and dark.

Reaching down into the well, Envoy finds the first hidden rung, and starts to climb down into the well. Once at the bottom, she has to feel in the darkness for the latch to the door leading into the underground passages.

Alas, the latch isn't there. Funny, there isn't one on this side. Oh yes … there's that business about the door to the Warrens – as the underground network under Darkside is known – being only openable by someone on the other side.

Envoy scratches at the hidden door, hoping Kame is still close enough to hear her… unless someone else has come through and he had to go into hiding.

The door, cleverly hidden in the side of the well, slides noiselessly open. A whiff of chemicals and bug guts reaches Envoy's nose, and she can see just a hint of spotted golden fur. A couple of ears, actually. They wiggle.

Envoy smiles with relief. "We can move them all now," she whispers to her tall Savanite co-conspirator.

The ears nod up and down, and disappear from sight. As the owner of the ears moves out of sight, in the dim light, another spotted form can be barely seen … slumped on the floor. Filling in the blanks, it looks like a large, muscular Savanite lying to one side of the doorway.

He smells of chemical fumes, too. Some of those that are particularly nasty for giving one dizzy spells if one breathes too much of them.

The Exile perks her ears at the stranger, listening for his breath. She didn't expect Kame to be so… resourceful in dealing with any guards.

The guard is still breathing, but evidently unconscious. At least for now.

It also looks as if he's tied up, upon closer examination. And gagged, though that might seem a tad bit excessive.

Envoy begins to wonder what other skills the artist may have in his palette, and checks the guard for an ownership collar.

The guard has a generic-looking collar, without any discernable identification as to the owner.

Would criminals trust slaves as guards? the Aeolun wonders while she waits.

An uncomfortable amount of time passes. The guard stirs, and struggles weakly against his bonds.

Envoy hmms, and removes the hood of her cloak to cover the guard's eyes.

The guard struggles some more at this, but eventually tires and collapses, though he breathes heavily. At last, though, Envoy's wait is rewarded, as footsteps can be heard … and several cheetahs come up to the doorway. There are nine of them, total, counting Kame.

Envoy lets out the breath she hadn't realized she was holding, and looks out and up to see if anyone is blocking the mouth of the well.

The well is presently empty. Business must be slow tonight for some reason.

Kame presses a hand against Envoy's, and quick-signs, "No time. Go now. Temple found."

A knot forms in Envoy's stomach at the news, but she hurries up the ladder.

Kame heads out to the base of the well, and helps the eight slaves, one by one, up the ladder rungs.

Lastly, he looks back at the fallen guard. He pauses, thoughtfully, and a mischievous grin crosses his face.

Envoy waits nervously at the top of the well to help the Savanites out, trying to look in all directions at once.

A short while later, Kame comes up the ladder, a smug, satisfied look on his face. But it quickly fades. "Which way?" he signs to Envoy.

The Exile just gestures to follow her, and sprints into the alleys. She's pretty certain even the youngest of Pathfinder's children will be able to keep up.

There are several pairs of hungry eyes that look after Envoy and her spotted entourage … but she doesn't hang around long enough for any of them to act upon any thoughts that might be brewing inside their heads. Not until, that is, she makes a turn and runs right into a group of lean-looking toughs. Four Kavis, a token Skreek, two young Jupanis, and – an odd addition – a poodle. (Or perhaps a mutt with a poodle cut.) They hold broken bottles and pieces of wood, and initially they're facing the other way … but as they turn to face the cheetahs, it looks like they're ready to seize upon any opportunity that comes their way.

Kame gulps. His expression might be, for all the world knows, the first time he's looked completely serious in his life.

Envoy shouts at the strangers, "Run! The Guards are right behind us!!"

The toughs laugh at Envoy, but one of the Jupanis gets a wide-eyed look at Envoy's shout. He howls, dropping his bottle, and almost drops to all fours as he beats a hasty retreat! The others slow their approach, visibly demoralized – at least for the moment – by their comrade's action.

The Exile keeps running, hoping to get everyone past in the confusion.

"Hey!" shouts one of the thugs, as he makes a swing at Envoy with his board. He's bowled over by a couple of panicked cheetahs, however, and doesn't get to connect with his makeshift weapon. The thugs don't seem quite prepared to react competently to this, and it looks like – for the moment – Envoy is clear!

Envoy looks back quickly to see if everyone got through, and turns down the next alley leading towards the warehouse.

Kame almost smacks into Envoy, but veers off in the knick of time, smiling apologetically. Some of the others take a little longer to catch up, but all the cheetahs manage to get past that little obstacle, even Pathfinder – Evidently, even she still has a bit of sprint still in her. The cheetahs are obviously tiring, though, and it's fortunate that the warehouse is now within sight. A few shouts can be heard down the alley, though, indicating that the thugs may not have given up the chase entirely.

Envoy pauses to catch a breath, and points out the warehouse door to Kame. She also shoves an envelope at him. "Take them in there, I'll distract the thugs. I need to have this letter delivered to Queen Third Vision."

Kame takes the envelope and bows his head to Envoy. Then, he takes her hand … and kisses it.

Envoy blushes at the gesture. "Take care, Kame Ikata," she smiles.

Kame smiles, bows again, then sprints after the other cheetahs.

After a few more deep breaths, Envoy makes her way towards the Grim Fandango. If the thugs show up, she can run into there.

A couple of thugs – the poodle and one of the Jupanis – can be seen darting about, looking for the cheetahs. The Jupani barks at the sight of Envoy … and the chase is on. A beret-wearing bat at the front door of the Grim Fandango says, "Whoa, like, an angel in the darkness."

Envoy makes for the entrance, and smiles to the Eeee. "Room for one more?"

"Hey now, it's packed. It's full. It's – hey – Haven't I seen you before?" the bat says. He wears dark chitin shades, even though they're obviously not needed to protect his eyes from any (nonpresent) sunlight.

The Jupani and poodle are closer now. Only a few seconds to spare.

Envoy smiles, "I played Chi Marie. I'm the singing Exile, Envoy."

"Hey, that's cool! So you're the new act? Like, get on IN!" the bat makes shooing motions in to the door.

Envoy dashes inside without delay!

Inside, the club is dark … not so much because of the lighting as that just about everything is painted black, with occasional details in a smoke-stained contrast of white. The clientele is varied racially, but there are several Eeee … and a couple of pairs of red-glowing eyes suggest those of the Sylvanian strain.

On the stage, a thin female bat – adorned in oversized boots, ruffled skirt, a black leather jacket, fingerless gloves, chitin-lensed glasses, and an upside-down emblem of the Tree of Life hanging around her neck – rasps, her voice amplified by some acoustic effect of the dome-ceilinged main room.

"And ever, and ever, and ever," she rasps.

"Did you have pet names for each other?"

"Ashes, to ashes, to ashes, to ashes, to me, to ashes, to ashes, to ashes… "

"The end," rasps the bat.

There is scattered, weak applause through the room.

Envoy makes her way slowly towards the stage, feeling like she's got a spotlight on her for no other reason than her brightly colored hair. Must be a poetry club.

I do believe that is the same Eeee that gave me the license for Bem. Or almost did, anyway, Envoy thinks.

The gaunt bat steps off the stage, making room for Envoy. It looks like the spotlight IS on her now.

Sitting on the stool, the Exile makes sure she can see the entrance to the place, just in case her other admirers decide to crash the gate. Taking her cue from the grim atmosphere, she pitches her voice low, and adds a hollow echo with her second voice to make it seem like she's talking from the bottom of a well.

A gritty-looking poodle and Jupani come in the front door. They are standing straight now, looking as if they're trying to fit in. They scan the crowd … The poodle taps on the Jupani's shoulder as he spots Envoy, and they both look … but keep their position near the door, for now.

Sifting for a moment through her memory, Envoy begins to recite, "Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary, over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore – "

A black Khatta seated near the stage snaps his fingers as Envoy recites.

Envoy keeps her eyes on the two canines instead of on the audience, and works her way through the dark poem. "… And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor… Shall be lifted – Nevermore!" the Aeolun concludes, screeching the last word like a demented Korv.

A couple of those in the audience gasp at the sudden shift in voice. Yes, she's got their attention now.

The two canines try to look cool as they work their way through the crowd, then split up.

Envoy talks to the audience, in her more normal voice, "I'm sure you've all heard of the recent capture of Amaranth, the Queen of the Cemetary, and an inspiration to us all."

There is some scattered applause. "We hear you, sister!" someone calls out.

Still keeping an eye on each of the canines, Envoy goes on, "I think that it is appropriate… no… necessary for those of us who appreciated her to show our respect… by offering her the sacrifices she needs to renew her strength and escape the mortals who have taken her! Are there any foxes in the audience?"

There is laughter in response to this, and more than a little applause.

Smiling, Envoy says, "Or perhaps just a dramatization would suffice? If I might have some volunteers from the audience?" She points to the sneaking Poodle, "Perhaps you, dear Gallah, who seems to have lost his seat?"

The poodle gulps, as a mirror swivels to put the spotlight on him. He's the only one standing in the vicinity, amongst several guests. "A volunteer!" cries out someone from a nearby table. Several others laugh.

"Come on up, good sir!" Envoy calls, "It's not like we're going to chop your head off! That's next week's performance."

Hands push forward the poodle, until he stumbles up onto the stage. "H – hi," he stammers.

Envoy smiles and raises one of the poodle's hands into the air, "Let's hear it for our brave, fearless volunteer!"

The room fills with enthusiastic applause. Well … sort of. As enthusiastic as this place ever gets.

The poodle stammers again, "H – hi."

"Tell us about yourself a little, sir," Envoy says. "Was your grandmother perhaps seduced by a dashing Sylvanian necromancer?" To the audience, she relates, "It's always good to know as much as possible about the sacrifice. It makes it all that much more poignant."

"Uh … h – hi," says the poodle, a grin frozen on his face, and his eyes wide with fear.

His Jupani "pal", meanwhile, is standing across the room, covering his face, looking like he's doing his hardest not to fall over laughing.

Envoy hmms, "But then again, maybe fear is enough. You know that speaking in public is more feared than death by most people?" To the poodle, she says, "Don't worry, all you have to do is lay down on the stage and scream like a fox."

The poodle drops to his knees and shrieks for all he's worth. This earns more applause.

"That's the spirit!" Envoy says. "Pardon the pun. Now, the rituals I've seen for raising the dead unfortunately skipped the part about getting blood from the sacrifice. Does anyone in the audience have some suggestions?"

The poodle whimpers.

"That's a fox all right!" says one of the bats.

Someone in the audience suggests, "Use a straw!"

Envoy cants her head and taps her cheek with a finger, as if considering the suggestion. "Not quite terrifying enough, I think." She then leans over the poodle and mimes drawing a knife across his throat. "Perhaps just a quick stroke to the jugular?"

The poodle yells for all he's worth at this, and leaps up, bolting from the stage!

The Aeolun covers her mouth and laughs! "Oh my! Poor Amaranth will just have to order out tonight. Maybe Little Babel Express can help her!"

The Jupani stops laughing, smirks at Envoy … then makes a rude gesture involving his thumb and nose at her, as he makes for the door.

Envoy moves quickly into another song, this one called 'I Love the Night' and apparently having to do with some poor Jupani cursed to turn into a human by day…

The other thug departs, leaving Envoy to her audience.

The Aeolun finishes the song, feeling a modest pang of nostalgia for her time as a Bard, and takes a brief bow.

Scattered, polite applause fills the room. In most cases, this would seem an insult. Here, it would seem that Envoy's performance has been approved.

Envoy waves to the crowd, and steps down off of the stage. She checks the door again to see if anyone is waiting for her there.

Nobody there. It would seem that the thugs have lost interest.

Envoy steps outside and goes to check the warehouse. Hopefully the Savanites and their escort have left already.

The warehouse is, by all appearances, quite abandoned. No spotted felines, no googly-eyed lizards. Tucked in the door, however, is a scrap of cloth, with some colorful stains on it.

Envoy plucks out the piece of cloth, and tries to get a better look at what might be on it.

The stains roughly form a smiling spotted face and two hands that sign, "Thank" and "You".

The Exile wipes a tear from her eye, and folds away the cloth for safekeeping. At least she doesn't have to worry about her letter getting through now. She's confident that the artist can get past any obstacles that might show up. She leaves the warehouse, and takes to the air as soon as possible, heading towards the Temple.