Sunset, and finally the airship has landed. Jynx could have picked a better time to get off the ship, but right now he's just happy to leave its crowded confines. The Aelfin airship seems to have landed in a grassy field just outside of a small town, which Jynx and Eve make their way towards. Hopefully, some idea as to where to look for Martinette's whereabouts can be found here.

Eve pads along, carrying her oversized handbag, out of which protrudes a ringed fuzzy tail. The tail flops about, and occasionally a muffled "Dead?" can be heard, which is answered by a WHACK from Eve and an admonition of "Be good, Pooky!" Pookums follows with a whimper and a "Not dead!" … and is good for a few minutes, until next time.

Eve mews, "Which half of the valley are we IN, Jynxie?"

The still calicoed (luckily the disguise has lasted this long) cat rolls his eyes at his little sister, "I don't know Eve, the other half I guess." He continues towards the small town, wondering himself just where the heck he is.

The two strangers get a few stares as they make their way through town. It's a small town, after all, and they're obviously not from these parts, and they don't look like the tourist or big-game-hunter type. Most of them don't stay to gawk, however – It's getting to be that time of day when small towns roll up the streets … and in this particular part, the fog is quickly rolling in to take their places.

"I guess we better find an inn, we don't want to be stuck out here tonight." The cat looks around for such a place.

A weaselly-looking Kavi (as if Kavis ever looked otherwise) overhears the Khatta's remark, and removes his pipe long enough to point down the street. "Down thataways, lad. Levitha's Blanket. Can't miss it. Yet. Best hurry before the Shroud gets you lost!"

Eve mews, "If this is Half Valley, does that mean they'll charge us half price, Jynxie?"

Jynx scoots Eve behind him, away from the kavi, and eyes the little creature. He ignores Eve's question, but asks a question along the same lines. "How much does it cost? And what's the 'Shroud'?"

A few fishermen sporting poles and their evening's catch wander past, chuckling to each other over some quiet joke. They retreat into one of the few dwellings with lights left in it. Seems most people turn in at sundown around here.

"Oh, I don't know," the Kavi answers. "I've never stayed there myself. As for the Shroud, that's Levitha's Shroud. Or 'Levitha's Blanket', as some say. The inn was named after it, you see." He notices the Khatta's blank stare, then explains, "It's the FOG, son. They named the FOG. It's fairly regular here."

"Oh," replies the Khatta, "of course. Anyways… uh, thanks." Without another word, the patchwork cat heads off in the motioned direction, pulling Eve behind him. "We better hurry."

Eve pads along as quickly as she can. "Hush!" she whispers to her handbag.

The fog grows thicker by the minute … and engulfs the two felines completely in its cool embrace. Jynx's keen senses serve him well, however, and he keeps from blundering into anything – any more than usual, anyway.

Somewhere off to the side, there is a muffled sound – and it doesn't SOUND like a fuff'nar. There are a couple of thumps and some scuffling noises for just a brief moment.

Just to be safe, Jynx puts his paw up in front of his face like a blindcat, searching as hard as he can for the inn. "That guy wasn't kidding, this is thicker than Lylia's stew!" He shudders at the sound, and grasps Eve's paw tighter. "Stay close, Eve."

Eve mews, "Jynxie? What WAS that?"

Eve's handbag murphles, "Dead?"

Jynx's fur bristles, "I don't know. C'mon, let's hurry." The cat goes into a sprint, his heart racing from the thought of not finding this place.

Eve is dragged along. "But what if someone is hurt?" she mews. "Didn't – ?" and then she clamps her mouth shut and does her best to keep up.

"Well then, sorry for them!" Jynx is a streetwise city-cat, he knows not to get involved. He starts to hiss to himself, becomming frustrated, "Where is this place?"

A muted light approaches in the fog, and is soon revealed to be a Skeek wearing soft leathers and a knit Rughrat hair cloak, bearing a lantern. He sports a longbow and full quiver – and a bored look – and starts to pass Jynx without a second glance. As he walks, he calls out, "Sundown's vigil, and all's well."

Eve whimpers quietly. (But not quietly enough for Jynx not to hear, of course.)

"Hey!" Jynx calls to the Skeek, "Hold up, er, sir!" He tries to pursue the mouse.

The Skeek halts, and turns around, raising a bit of eyefur as he looks up at the Khatta. "Hoy there, stranger. What can I do for you?"

Eve looks up at Jynx, and hides her handbag behind her.

Jynx pants, catching his breath then replying. "Excuse me sir, but could you tell me where *pant* Levitha's Blanket is? My sister and me need a place to stay."

A little black button nose pokes out of the handbag. "Dead?" it whines.

"Sure, I'll take ya there," replies the Skeek, nodding amicably. "Piksil's probably finished serving dinner by now, but I bet she's still willing to put people up for the night, if… " The militiaman glances over at Eve, then the bag, and frowns. "Hey… is that what I think it is?"

Eve gulps, then mews, "Quite possibly not, sir?"

Jynx interrupts, thinking quickly, "You mean one of those new talking Babel handbags? Sure is! Hottest thing in Rephidim! Anyways, thanks you for showing us the way."

"Aww, Da-… er, crumbs." The Skeek changes an oath to a minor grumble. "You think I was whelped yesterday, stranger? I know a fuff'nar when I hear one. We got a ban on the little menaces here, boy. If they got into the forest and bred, they'd come after livestock. You're going to have to have the kid here bring the thing to the militia station."

Eve's ears quickly fill with tears, and she cries, "You can't take POOKY!"

Jynx actully brightens at this news: at last, a chance to get rid of that little menace. "Fine with me! C'mon Eve, let's go check it." He sighs at her tears, "We'll get the little freak back later; they'll take care of it. C'mon, let's go."

The militiaman rolls his eyes. "C'mon, little missy, give 'im over," sighs the Skeek, advancing on Eve to take hold of the bag strap. "I'm sorry, but that's how it has to be. He's dangerous. I promise he won't feel a thing when he's put down."

Eve looks at Jynx with eyes full of disbelief. "JYYYYYYYYNXIE!" And then she scuttles back, trying to keep her bag clear from the mousey militiaman. "P-p-put DOWN?"

Pookums says, "Dead?"

Jynx groans! "Er, put down to bed! Yeah! C'mon Eve, just give him the blasted thing and let's go get some sleep."

The exasperated Skeek tries to keep his voice gentle, but he reaches out to put a firm grip on the bag. "Listen here, tyke, I'm late in my rounds as it is. If the Marshal thinks I was slacking off, I'd never hear the end of it. On his authority, I'm ordering this animal confiscated."

Eve mews, "NOOOOOOOOOOO!" She tugs on the bag, resulting in a bit of a tug of war. Normally, a kitten would be hardly sport, but Skeeks are not great of stature. The end result, though, amidst several cries from Eve and the handbag's contents, is that the bag goes back and forth … and then both ways at once. *RIIIIIIP!*

The kitten tumbles to the ground, clutching half of the handbag, as her belongings flutter and clatter to the ground. A ring-tailed fluffy critter lets out a yelp and pitter-patters away, quickly disappearing into the fog.

Jynx sighs, tired, hungry, and ready to go to sleep. "Come ON Eve, jus- ACK!"

"Whoa!" The bowman flails his arms around as the bag suddenly gives. He makes an admirable attempt at staying afoot before stumbling backwards and falling over, arrows spilling out of his quiver.

Eve yowls, "Come BACK!" She dashes off in pursuit of the fuff'nar, and is likewise enveloped in the fog. The sun has now gone down, making things even worse.

"Aw, great!" grumbles the Skeek, sitting up. He waves a paw around in the air. "Now the little bugger is loose." As his lantern's gone out, he begins feeling around in the fog for his arrows.

The calico cat's heart sinks; great, THIS is gonna cost him. Looking at the angry Skeek lying on the ground, he decides that he had better make after Eve on his own. "Eve! Come BACK!" He tears off after the little white kitten, not wanting to be around the Skeek when he gets to his feet.

The path Eve has apparently taken – and which Jynx follows – takes the unlucky black Khatta down an alleyway between two buildings. It's not like an alley in the city, but with the night and the fog, it's probably just as bad. Especially as some sounds reach Jynx's ears from ahead: a startled squeak, silence, and then hushed muttering voices… but which can't be made out over the sound of Jynx's own footfalls.

Jynx flattens his ears, preparing to sprint past the source of the voices just in case they're hostile. He hopes greatly that the squeak wasn't from a certain kitten.

As the feline slows down, the voices can be made out a little better. One of them is low, and gutteral. "Did the watchman hear us?" A thin, nasal voice replies. "I don't think so."

The calico tries to make out the source of the voices, looking also for cover just in case he needs concealment.

"Good. Vandringer's going to be mad enough to hear about the Prince," says the lower voice. "At least we got this thorn out of his side, huh?" reasons the other. "What're we going to do with him?"

"He still won't talk?"

"Nope."

With Eve nowhere in sight, the patchwork Khatta slows to a halt and ducks for cover, perking his ear forward to eavesdrop on the conversation.

"Well, then we'll just have to-… " The gutteral voice is interrupted by some muffled protests. Footsteps approach, and another voice adds itself to the confusing mix, this one soft and syllabant. "Kemper. This girl just ssstumbled into the camp."

"Dagh," swears the voice identified as Kemper. "Of all the luck… well, we'll be leaving after our task is done. Kill her, we don't need anymore trouble on our hands."

A kittenish voice whimpers pitifully. "You can't DO – *mph!*"

Jynx's fur bristles out once again. Great, just great!! He inches forward slightly, trying to get a look at his sister's abductors.

The fog thins enough to where three shadowy shapes standing over a fourth heaped on the ground can be made out. One of them is squat, and rotund. The triangle shapes on what is presumably his head look like they could be the ears of a Khatta. A taller shape standing near him is definitely Cervani, with one antler broken and sharpened. The third silhouette is unmistakeably serpentine in form, and is the one bearing a struggling lighter-coloured blob.

The Khatta gulps, why isn't anything ever easy?

*Schick!* The sound of a knife drawn comes from the Cervani. "Okay, Kemper," he says, in his nasal voice. "Ustich, hold her still."

The Khatta's fur feels like it's going to spring out of his skin! Not knowing what else to do, the feline bolts after the trio, hissing loudly and fumbling for his dagger. "Leave her alone!"

The silver blade is readily in Jynx's hand – the obsidian one still tucked away in his bag too securely to do him any good in this fray.

The charge swiftly brings Eve's antagonists into sharp focus for the feline. The rough-looking Cervani stares in dumb shock and nearly drops his knife, while Kemper and Ustich swear loudly and confusedly, the former drawing a short chitin sword, and the latter slithering backward.

The 'calico' Khatta's charge causes him to just barely nudge some barrels lining the alleyway. Two of them rock, sloshing rainwater, while the third tips over, spilling its contents and rolling slowly.

Jynx slashes at Kemper, deciding him to be the biggest threat. The world goes cold and wet for a moment though, as water splashes down on the cat.

Eve, her mouth momentarily free of the snake's grasp, cries out, "Jyyynx! Help!" She kicks her feet wildly, though it accomplishes nothing against the serpent's hold on her.

Though the squat Khatta seems to be slower and less agile than the nimble Kurai, he slaps away an accurate thrust at his chest with the flat of his chitin blade, and takes a defensive stance to collect his wits. "Juhr! Help me!"

Jynx continues his attack on the short feline, swiveling an ear at Eve's appeals of help. With a final slash at Kemper, the young Khatta turns towards the snake and darts after him, dagger rasied.

Little streams of white costume makeup drip off Jynx, making his disguise seem to fade.

The Khatta's maneuver succeeds in catching his two attackers off guard, though his parting swing at Kemper cuts nothing but air. With naturally feline agility, he darts past the Cervani … but slips as his dampened feet fail to get sure footing on the cobbles, and fails to avoid a passing cut from the stag. A tear runs down the trousers covering Jynx's right leg … and a thin ribbon of red forms amidst the fur underneath.

The dripping wet black, white, and patchworked Khatta winces in pain as the burn of the cut surges through his leg. He regains his feet as best he can, trying to ignore the pain for now, and continues towards the Naga, giving a damp slash, "I said let her go!"

Off to the side, a shadow crawls along the ground – another presence momentarily forgotten in the confusion. A battered-looking lupine in tattered raiment pulls himself over to the side of the building, and shakily props himself up against the foundation.

The Naga makes himself difficult to hit with the squirming bundle he's holding used as a shield, and evades the slice. He fumbles at his tunic for a knife sheathed there… then suddenly drops it and screams. "AAAGH! You wretched little-… !!" It would seem Eve's buried her teeth in the Naga's other hand. Cursing, the snake lets the kitten drop to clutch the wound.

"What's going on?!" Bobbling lights in the distance approach steadily in the fog. Kemper's voice cuts through the dark and mist. "Forget them! Let's get out of here!"

Eve tumbles to the ground, squealing!

The soggy black cat gives one final stab at the retreating Naga, then grabs at his little sister. He plans to do just as his opponents and run in the opposite direction, but a forgotten pain surges through his leg. Jynx emits a loud yowl of pain, and a hiss as he hits the dirt, clutching his cut.

The Naga streams backward away from the feline's thrust, still clutching his hand, then pours himself in the direction of Kemper's voice. He pauses to glance over his shoulder, gritting his teeth. "I somehow doubt you're one of the valley yokels. You'll regret crossing us." As the approaching lights outline the forms of several militiamen, the Naga slithers hastily away, enveloped by the Shroud.

Eve throws her paws around Jynx, bawling, "JYNX! You SAVED me! Wahhhhhh!" She smothers his face with kittenish kisses.

Normally Jynx would push his sister away, not liking such attention, but instead he slowly and painfully gets to his feet, not especially wanting to meet the militia. He remembers the wounded Jupani, and looks over towards it.

The battered wolf coughs, then rasps, "Jynx is your name? I owe you, the Procession as my witness – I would have died at the hands of those ruffians for sure."

More closely examined, with less of the fog to separate the two, the Jupani's attire is that of a well-to-do traveller – not especially flashy, but nonetheless of a fine cut that the young Feli Kurai has learned to recognize amongst his father's more prestigious clients and business associates.

The Skeek from the streets earlier arrives with a re-lit lantern, flanked by a Lapi, and something that looks like a kavi but not quite. All three of them are wearing identical leather militia jerkins and arrow-filled quivers. "What happened here?" demands the Skeek. "Is anyone hurt?"

Although his mind screams for him to run, Jynx instead limps his way over to where the lupine lays, and attempts to help the wolf up. He'd rather run right now to avoid the fuff'nar ramifications, but his leg prevents him from doing so. "Well, its my nickname. My name's Feli Kurai." We winces as another shock pulses through his limb. "What's you-" He stops as the militia arrives.

The Khatta sets his ears back in embarassment, "We-, we were attacked… "

The watchmen approach, the Lapi kneeling by the Jupani, while the kavi-like fellow checks on Feli. "The Jupani's hurt, Fergus," says the Lapi. The not-kavi chimes in, addressing Jynx. "You've got a long cut there too, fella. Think you can move if I give ya my shoulder?"

Jynx nods wordlessly, and takes the offered shoulder. He keeps his mouth shut about the fuff'nar incident, hoping that helping a noble will earn him some brownie points. As he raises his arm, he notices that his fur is once again black, his disguise having been washed away.

Eve clings to Jynx's paw. "I'm okay, thanks to my brother!" The Skeek glances oddly at Eve, then nods at the Lapi. "Get them to the inn; I'll bring Watts."

Freshly-bandaged, and given a mug of hot xocholatl to nurse by the fireplace, the black feline is given a spot across from where the lupine – sporting considerably more bandages – contemplates a similar beverage.

Eve sits across the room, loudly and excitedly recounting the battle – and Jynx's heroics – in enough detail to guarantee more than a little embellishment … though perhaps real enough in a kitten's eyes. The remains of her handbag are in a small pile, along with the contents … though a ring-tailed former passenger of the bag is still conspicuously absent.

Jynx sips on the liquid treat, basking in the warmth with a low instinctive purr of contentment. His quest of finding Martinette is momentarily forgotten. His leg is still in pain, but his surroundings dull the sensation.

A white aelfin with concern in her large, bright eyes coos and marvels at everything Eve says. "Oh, you poor dears! I can't imagine what this place is coming to. Thugs skulking around at night! Well, if you want anything else, please, don't hesitate to tell me."

The black Khatta grins; Eve ought to be a bard when she grows up. He looks over to the wolf, all bandaged up yet still noble looking. "I never did get your name."

The wolf ponders his drink some more, then clears his throat and nods to the feline. "Oxmun of Xanashire. Once Sir Oxmun, though that matters for nothing these days, since the Order has fallen apart since long ago."

Near the aelfin stands a large, heavily muscled Rhian. Where his leather jerkin and trousers don't cover it, a dappled gray hide shows through. His thick arms are crossed over a broad chest. "I don't see why you fuss over everyone that crawls to your door," he mutters to her. "But I suppose I have everything I need here. We'll be on the lookout for those roughs."

The Rhian shrugs his shoulders. "I wouldn't know. Trouble tends to follow strangers to my town, and I don't like it one bit." His brow lowers in a stern look.

Eve mews, "… and then he cried out, 'Oh no you don't! NOBODY picks on MY little sister!' That's because that's HIS job, you see. And then he CHARGED in, slashing left and right and left and – oops! – Sorry, didn't mean to hit that. And left and right and – "

"Oh… nice to meet you." Jynx settles back in his chair, taking a sip of Xocholatl in embarassed silence. Swiveling an ear to listen to the Rhian, he asks another question, "Why were those goons attacking you?"

The wolf looks as if he's about to try to change the subject, or to be reluctant to give an answer at all, then lets out a long sigh. "Well, no need for a secret now. My attempt to interfere with the Order of Cinders failed miserably. They're convening in these parts, and I caught word they had a new initiate who would be joining their ranks. I happened to – " He eyes the cat. "Hmm. You have no idea what I'm talking about, no doubt. Suffice it to say that my attempts at subtlety fell far short of the mark."

"Order of… Cinders?" The feline looks perplexed. "I guess I never have heard of them."

The wolf looks about the room, and lowers his voice just a bit more, as he scoots his chair toward the cat a little bit. "The SOCIETY of Cinders, I mean. Forgive me – I am thinking too much of the old days. They are an organization that dates back to … well, I'm honestly not sure, but at least to the days of the War of Vassals … that would be some forty years ago now."

Oxmun continues, "They are comprised of historians and philosophers … brilliant minds, but with a decidedly sinister twist. I know little of their ultimate plans, except that they foresee the destruction of Sinai as we know it … and welcome it with open arms."

Jynx blinks. 'War of the Vassals,' why does that sound so familiar? "Who is their initiate? And where are they from?" He takes another sip of his drink, ears listening intently.

The Rhian would probably had found this alarming, had he been listening. However, he seems busy discussing something with the innkeeper, who nods every so often. Their discussion seems to be concluded after a short while, and the equine departs, a clacking nutshell hanging from the door frame announcing his departure.

The wolf takes another sip, watching the equine's departure, then hoarsely whispers, "They come from parts afar, united in a dark cause – though by their skewed vision of reality, they think themselves servants of gods. They make their home on the northernmost parts of Half Valley, facing the broken lands of Xanashire and the resting place of the artifact they believe will bring about the Final Battle. As for the young prince… "

"Prince?" The Khatta has no intention of getting involved in all of this, but it's still interesting to listen to.

This prompts a nod from the wolf. "A prince of the Himaat, from the desert lands of the Khattan Emirate. The son of a wealthy merchant-lord … but not the first-born, and hence not in line to receive the full inheritance. No doubt that inspired him to seek glory and power in other ways. Not all of those who join the Society even pretend to be of lofty morals. But his tie to the Emirate would no doubt be of use to them."

Jynx settles back in his chair, sipping his Xochoatl. "That's certainly strange." He gives a small smile, "It seems like wherever I go these days something is happening." He takes another gulp of his drink, licking his lips as he finishes it off. "I'm here looking for someone myself."

Eve mews, "… and then he was up against that nasty snakeypoo, and he slashed with his silver knife! Left! Then right! Then left! Then … left again! To catch him off guard, you see! And then… "

The wolf nods. "Really? Half Valley is an unusual place to seek people in. Largely on account that there are so few here. Most who come here seek beasts to hunt in the wild." He nods to the kitten. "And hardly anyone brings children. Yours?"

Jynx looks aghast, "N-no! She's my little sister. She insisted on coming with me to look for this person." He looks into his cup, searching for any remnants of the drink, "Maybe you've heard of her."

The wolf raises his eyebrows. "Not yet, apparently. Though it might help if she possesses a name."

The black Khatta puts his mug down on a table. "I was told I could find her here. She doesn't seem to be too popular with people, though." The Khatta ponders mentally on whether he should give out Martinette's name or not. It hasn't gotten him the best reactions in the past.

The wolf nods. "Well, then. I won't press the issue. I hope you have good luck in finding this person."

"Thank you," replies the Khatta. "How are you feeling by the way?"

The innkeeper returns with a kettle on a tray, next to some stacked sesame honey cakes. She remains politely quiet, so as not to interrupt the conversation, but refills the cup on the table, and with a smile, offers one of the sweets to the white kitten.

The kitten mews happily, and – though daintily taking the offering and thanking the Aelfin politely – quickly chows down the cake.

Jynx smiles in thanks at the aelfin as she refills his mug.

The proprietress grins at her guests, and nods, playfully tapping Eve on the nose with a honey-sticky finger before hustling back to the kitchen.

The Jupani says, "Better. Though I have a great deal of work ahead of me, and less to accomplish it with. I did manage to dissuade young Prince Shiahd bu-Ahlmarahat from visiting the Society … but I had hoped to glean a little more information from him before he bolted like a frightened beast. I waylaid him on his way here, you see, and challenged him to a duel. He accepted … and let his two bodyguards take his place. They were overconfident, and were soon licking their wounds in the ditch. As for the young prince – He forfeited the duel by his departure, of course." The wolf shakes his head.

Eve crosses her eyes, giggling and pawing at the sticky spot on her nose.

"Do you know who heads up this Cinder Order?" Jynx asks. "They sound like the type not to be messed with."

"I had hoped," the wolf says, "to glean from him some password or other means of gaining entry into the sanctum of the Society. Either they learned of my subterfuge, or he hired some ruffians to deal with me, or perhaps they just caught me poking my nose where they thought it did not belong … and, well, you well know what happened in the alley. Unless I can try impersonating a prince, I haven't much chance of getting in." He looks up at Jynx. "No, not to be messed with, but with their goals, I have no choice."

"Vandringer. He is their current ringleader. In scholarly circles, he still commands respect, even among those who know a little of his 'hobby' on the side – and wave it off as some petty secret society clubhouse antics. They don't realize the true power of the artifact this Society wishes to possess – WARS were fought over it, and an entire nation laid waste." The wolf winces painfully – at wounds past or present.

Jynx chuckles, "Well, I doubt you'd have much luck impersonating a prince, I mean, if he's a Khatta and all." He takes another sip of the drink, "Not everyone gets our looks you know." The cat shudders at the mention of wars however, not liking the turn of the conversation.

The wolf looks up at Jynx's remark … and squints a bit. Perhaps the light isn't all that good for him. "Ah … excuse me … but … it just occurs to me that when I first saw you … you looked a shade lighter, I'm certain of it. Back in the alley, I mean."

The fire flickers fitfully, and some creaking across the darkened inn responds to it. A huge zelak, or at least, it looks like a zelak, lumbers over to the hearth with a cord of wood on its back. It dumps the wood in a bin, and begins tearing apart chunks of log with its claws to feed to the fire.

he black Khatta blinks, "Oh, that. It was a disguise to avoid some people back home that didn't like me." He paws a few last patches of white makeup off his fur. "Why do you ask?"

Eve mews, "… and then, he fought this GIANT lion-Khatta, and he saved the little spottygirl … "

"I … was just imagining you in a tawny shade, that's all." The wolf rubs his chin thoughtfully. "And with a bit more of a mane, perhaps… "

Jynx freezes as the Jupani sizes him up, his mouth at his mug. "Umm… mind clueing me in?"

"Well," says the wolf, "you almost look as if you might have a little lion blood in you. With a bit of fur dye, you could probably pass for one. A young one, that is, just into your mane."

"… and then, there was the time this giant BUG attacked an airship that Jynxie was on, and he saved the QUEEN of the spotties by stabbing it right in the EYE! Ewwwwww!" Eve makes swiping motions with her paw, wielding a butterknife menacingly. Well … as menacingly as a kitten can manage.

"Well, yes, I do have some lion in me, but wha-" Realization dawns on Jynx's kitty mind. "Hold on a second, you're not gonna draw me into this!"

The zelak finishes rending wood, and shakes some splinters off its claws. It eyes the kitten playing with the flatware, and its antennae rotate uncertainly.

The wolf coughs, and says, "Well, I'm certainly in no shape to accomplish much right now. But I've seen you in action. You've nothing to fear from some scholars with delusions of grandeur, and their underpaid goons. This is the fate of the WORLD we're talking about! If Calderas' Legacy falls into their hands … then we all shall pay as they set Sinai aflame!"

"Calderas?" Jynx unwittingly mentions the name out loud. It sounds familiar too… something to do with Shikouku and Martinette. The Khatta thinks for a bit, then sighs, "I'll help you, but only if you help me find the person I'm looking for as well."

The wolf, realizing his voice has risen considerably above a whisper, looks around again … then physically and vocally drops again. "Fair enough. Who is it you wish to find? I am not the most well-connected one that you'll find in these parts, but Half Valley is small enough."

"You spoke of Calderas and the Vassal's War," The Khatta gulps, hoping that this doesn't get him clobbered. "The woman I'm looking for had something to do with those I think, her name is – " he hesitates, "Lady Martinette."

The eyebrows of the wolf rise to heights they haven't touched before in the presence of the black Khatta. "You don't say?"

Jynx braces, and nods. "Have you heard of her?"

The wolf looks Jynx up and down, as if he had not done so before. "Yes. … Yes, I most certainly have."

Although he is still on his guard, Jynx's ears perk up at the news that someone has heard of his grandmother. "D-do you know wh-where I can find her?"

The wolf says, "Perhaps. If the Society of Cinders does not find her first. What is your interest in her?"

"The Society? Why would they-", he breaks off, looking around and setting his ears back. In a whisper, so as not to be overheard by others, the Khatta confesses, "She's my grandmother."

The wolf nods solemnly. "I believe our paths cross in more ways than just a chance encounter in an alley. Yes, I believe I can help you get into a position where you may be able to find your grandmother … and stop those who seek to acquire her for their own ill purposes. You see … it is believed Lady Martinette is the possessor of the Artifact."

Jynx looks at the Jupani quizically, "Artifact? What artifact? And why would Martinette have it?" The fur on the Khatta's back raises slightly.

The wolf regards Jynx, then says, "The Artifact … an unnamed item of great power that prompted Lord Calderas to strike against the other vassals of King Xante, and to start a war that would lead to the collapse of the old country of Stalwirland. I have no earthy idea just what benefits the artifact could bestow – only that its legacy was a barren wasteland where once lush vegetation and crops ripe for harvest once grew. And where it did not touch the land itself – or perhaps by Calderas' abuse of it – the soil was stained with the blood of the land's bravest warriors … once comrades in arms, but turned against each other by their feuding lords."

"All that matters," the wolf says, "is that Calderas wanted it more than anything … and that now the Society of Cinders wants it, to bring destruction upon Sinai. They wish to purge this world of the 'lesser people' – all humans among them … and foremost being the Captain-Astromancer of Rephidim, himself."

"What artifact?" the wolf repeats. "THE artifact. A tool, a weapon, a source of power … I know not, but the Society of Cinders will stop at nothing to obtain it. And if the Society believes Lady Martinette to possess it, they WILL kill her if they believe it to be in their interests."

The black Khatta shudders, "Humans? What do they have against them? I mean, I know they're kinda ugly and all, but they never hurt anybody that I know of." At the mention of killing Martinette, the Khatta emits a small hiss. "So, if I help y-you infiltrate the Society, you'll help me with M-Martinette?"

The wolf nods. "I will do what I can. But mostly what I can do is the very act of helping you to infiltrate their ranks. Once in their number, you will be able as no one can to discern their true purposes – perhaps even to determine the nature of this Artifact … and maybe even how to destroy it. If you wish to stop them, you will have no better place to strike from than from within."

The wolf leans back in his chair. "And, as for your other question … I am surprised. But then, perhaps you don't know the whole story."

Jynx cocks his head sideways questioningly, "Story? What story?"

Eve purrs quietly in sleep, having collapsed in a chair near the fireplace … but apparently not quite within earshot, given that she hasn't interjected yet.

The wolf frowns. "Tell me first – What do you know of your heritage? I have heard many stories. I do not know which one you believe to be true. Or perhaps there is one I have not yet learned."

"Well," starts Jynx hesitantly, "I only know so much. My grandmother is Lady Martinette, and my grandfather is the assassin Shikouju. They were part of this society called the 'Compass Rose' or something, a group of assassins, and were supposedly very feared… "

The wolf nods quietly. "I can see that now. I never met Shikouju … but it's simple enough to put that together in you. A black Khatta … but with the lines of a lion. And the reflexes, too, I see." He nods approvingly.

The black cat continues, his ears blushing red at the compliment, "They were hired by king Xante, or one of his servants, to infiltrate Calderas' lands and find out his plans of conquest, and stop him if possible. I don't know if they succeeded or not, but Martinette and Shikouju are the parents of my mother, so I assume they lived after that." He pauses to take a breath. "My father doesn't approve of my grandmother, and disowned her from our family when I was just a kitten. I didn't even know about her until not too long ago."

The wolf nods quietly, listening, then is silent for a bit. At last, he says, "There is a simple reason why Lady Martinette is believed to possess the Artifact of Calderas."

"Now I'm looking for her, just to learn where I come from, and what our family's past is." He looks up, "My father would flip if he knew about me doing this, which I'm sure he's doing right now, especially since my little sister came along." He perks his ears to listen to the Jupani explain about the artifact.

"The reason," the wolf says, his voice rasping slightly, "is because she ceased to be Lady Martinette quite some time ago … as long ago as the War of the Vassals, in fact."

The wolf continues, "Her proper name is … "

The black cat seems taken aback, "She… she what?"

"… Lady Calderas," the wolf finishes.

Jynx's heart stops. He just stares open mouthed at the wolf, not believing his ears. "Wh-what do you… what do you m-mean?"

The wolf nods solemnly. "Your … mother, yes? Your mother came to be without the blessing of marriage. At least, not marriage between her mother and her true father, I would surmise."

"Lady Martinette wed Lord Calderas after the destruction of the rest of the Compass Rose," Oxmun says, almost wincing as he speaks, seeing what effects his words have on the young Khatta.

"Therefore," the wolf says, trying to adopt a passive tone after a deep breath, "it is only natural to think that she might possess what Lord Calderas once fought over."

"I-I think so," The Khatta's head swims, his heart beating wildly and ears turning ashen. "She- she wasn't at the… the wedding if that's what y-you mean… " He stares back up at the wolf, not hearing the part about possession, "How could she do that? How?"

Oxmun shakes his head. "That I cannot tell you. And perhaps even I do not have my facts straight. The War of Vassals was fought over reasons known to the lords, and barely by their subjects. Deceit and distrust abounded. The truth may never be known."

The wolf puts a hand on Jynx's shoulder. "This is your chance to find out the truth. And to DO something about it. I ask a great deal of you … but I have no choice. The Society of Cinders must be stopped. The Artifact must be destroyed … or at the very least left undisturbed by evil men. Are you with me?"

Jynx fights back tears, his disbelief sitting strong in his head. He shakes it off and put it in the back of his mind, he still wants to find his grandmother, regardless of what she has done. "I-I'll do it."

The wolf tries to force a smile as he pats Jynx on the shoulder. "So be it. Now … we must set about making you a prince of the Himaat. Let us hope none of the Society speaks Desert Khattan."

The black cat nods with a last sniff, "Yes, hopefully not."

Under the glow of the Procession, in the last hour of Harvest Tide, a prince of the desert rides in a coach pulled by a Drokar in caparrison of midnight blue and gilded trim. His golden mane and tawny fur glow in the starlight, as he regards the slowly passing countryside. Ahead, flickering torches mark the location of the emissaries of the Society that are to receive him as a new initiate into their secretive order.

Prince Shiahd bu-Ahlmarahat maintains a dignified posture as he is carried along to his destination, confident and proud on the exterior. On the inside, the cat known as Jynx twitches a mental tail nervously. He scratches at the itchy fake mane. "Glad I didn't get any of the fur from Grandma's side of the family," he mutters.