9 Midsummer 6104

A hand rests ogainst the Gallah's cheek, and a gray-furred feline face peers at him with wide blue eyes. As Piper blinks, disoriented, he hears April's voice saying, " – guess, he said he was fine the last time." She sounds anxious.

Piper's face breaks out on a tongue lolling grin. "Mam'selle? I was just saying that perhaps we need to think of an alternative plan. I must have lost myself in my thoughts. Did I not hear something you said?" One ear perks an inch higher than the other in a curious expression.

Cynthia exhales slowly, looking relieved. She pats his cheek. "I was worried about you, sugar. You've been staring into space for… " She pauses, glancing to the others.

"'Least six or seven minutes, now." Torn-Ear ruffles the fur on the side of his head with one hand, the motion stopping as he reaches the back of his head. "We were just talkin' about Machkat, then when I asked you something and we all noticed you were kinda … er … outta it. Zonked. You been doin' anything we should know about, Pipe?"

The Gallah's smile breaks down a little. "No, misseir Torn-Ear. It was just a little spell, I get them from time to time, ever since I was a puppy. Nothing to concern yourself with." He coughs into his hand. "Who is this Misseur Machkat?"

April puts a fresh mug of milk down before the canine, her ears flattening back, and she glares at the lupine, though she doesn't say anything.

"An ex-lieutenant of Faraon's," the wolf replies, quirking and eyebrow at the girl raccoon. He leans forward to sniff the mug of milk. "Maybe it's something in this stuff you keep drinkin'." He wrinkles his nose at the scent. "Phew! Er, we're thinkin' Machkat's the man-behind-the-scenes for the Blood Kings," he adds to Piper.

Piper noisily slurps from his mug. "Have you ever met him? What does he look like?"

"Sure have." Torn-Ear takes a draft from his own ale. "He's this kinda scrawny thing, doesn't look like much. Almost 's tall as me, but thin as a whippet. Got one of those squashed faces – " He pantomines with one of his hands, pushing his palm against his own muzzle and pulling back his nose. " – damn funny-looking guy, you ask me. Not that anybody would've said that to his face!" He grins, though Cynthia looks a little nervous. She pats Piper's cheek again, almost reflexively, then retreats back to her chair, curling into it.

The Gallah's tail thumps against his chair as he thinks. "Do you know where Misseur Machkat works out of? I would like to see his lands and smell his scent for myself." He gives Cynthia a reassuring smile. "I also wonder if Mam'selle Faith may know of him."

Cynthia giggles, for no reason apparent to Piper. "She ought to!"

"They said Mr. Machkat escaped from the Temple dungeons, Piper." Durog's words clarify the feline's mirth, though he doesn't appear to share it. His usual dour expression mixes with suspicion, or perhaps fear, as he watches the Gallah with the others.

Torn-Ear chuckles, ripping off a chunk of a minced pie. "Can't rightly say where Machkat's hanging his hat now. If he is holed up with the Blood Kings, well, I know where they lie. But I'd bet Machkat'll have his own place, too. He's a paranoid old dog."

Piper drains the contents of his mug and licks the remaining droplets of milk from his muzzle. "I think I should go discuss this a bit with Mam'selle Faith, then." He looks nervously between Torn-Ear and Cynthia. "If what you say is true, and he is seperate from the gang, then if he can be found and arrested then the Blood Kings will not be as much of a problem, oui? Take the vermite queen and the hive dies."

The feline curls her tail around her leg, looking anxious at the mention of talking to Faith, and the innkeeper withdraws further into his chair. Torn-Ear blinks once or twice, then flicks his ears around. "You know, Piper," he says, thoughtfully, "Maybe you should." Cynthia and the other Shadow-Wolf in the room both turn to stare at their leader.

The Gallah looks almost as shocked. "I should?" His tail twitches, unsure of whether to break out wagging or curl up. "Misseur Torn-Ear, I promise that I will not speak ill of you, and will not even mention the Shadow Wolves to her. You have all be very kind to me, far more than I deserve."

"Hey," Torn-Ear raises one hand as if to ward off the stares, then grins at Piper. "I know you wouldn't say anythin' bad about us. And, I dunno that the Blood Kings are gonna just go 'poof' if somethin' happens to Machkat. But havin' him out of the picture would be bound to help. Now, if we could somehow arrange for the Temple to come down on both of 'em at once… "

"The Temple?" Cynthia hisses at the lupine, wide-eyed.

The wolf cuffs her shoulder lightly. "Yeah, sure, the Temple. Stop lookin' at me like that."

"Perhaps a joint effort? One group could deal with Misseur Machkat and one could deal with the Blood Kings? I will mention that." The Gallah's tail finally chooses the wagging option instead of tucking itself away somewhere safe. "Let me go get my things and I will go and see Mam'selle Faith this very moment."

"Well, now, let's hold on a moment and get your story straight, first." Torn-Ear swallows a hunk from his pie, by now just ignoring the bewildered looks of those around him. "You may be over-estimatin' Miz Faith's ability to mobilize the Temple firepower. You want the Temple to take action, you gotta give 'em something good. Now, for Machkat, they might come. But you gotta convince 'em you can deliver him." The wolf drums his fingers on the table, thoughtful.

Piper pauses. "What if I could tell her I knew where he was? If you know where the Blood Kings are, perhaps I could catch Misseur Machkat's trail and track him to his cachette."

"Your nose is that good?" The wolf looks surprised.

April chimes in, "It is! Piper can track anything."

The Gallah blushes bright crimson. "Unless he has hidden himself in the egouts, misseur. My nose does not work so well in the sewers."

The Shadow Wolf leader rubs his chin. "I wouldn't put that past him," he concedes, "But it might be worth a shot. Wanna go now?" He kicks back his chair and stands.

"Now?" Cynthia squeaks.

Piper hops up from his chair, accidentally knocking it over in his enthuisasm. "Oui, misseur! Shall I go alone? They might be less suspicious … I can bring my bow and claim I am hunting for vermites."

"Why not? Times' a' wastin', and Darkside only gets nastier at night." The wolf grins at Cynthia, then nods to Piper. "I'll come with ya most of the way, kid – don't want you getting lost – but you can do the sniffin' solo. You two go on back to the lair." Torn-Ear nods dismissively to Cynthia and Silent's cousin.

The other wolf stares at his leader, a challenge in his eyes, but Torn-Ear meets the gaze evenly, and at last the other drops his head in submission. "All right, boss."

"I will go fetch my supplies from my trunk." The dog looks at the expressions hanging on the other faces in the room. "Are you sure this is alright, Misseur Torn-Ear?"

The lupine grins again. "'Course it is, Pipe. Leastways, this's as good as it gets. G'wan, get your things." He leans back in his chair, downing another swallow from his mug, while his two companions quietly slink out the back door.

Piper nods. "I shall be back dans un moment." And with that he jogs back to his bunk to fetch his supplies.

By daylight, Darkside doesn't seem so frightening. The streets are populated by beggars and the occassional vendor with a drop cloth full of goods of questionable origin. Torn-Ear moves through the streets as though he owns them, his strides long and confident, looking back over his shoulder now and again to make sure his Gallah companion is keeping up.

The Gallah blows his nose on a rag to clear it out and the pockets the cloth. "I hope I can live up to Madame April's expectations," he whimpers softly as he jogs behind the wolf. He may be a bit on the small side, but he's got a pair of swift moving legs and can easily duck around and jump over most of the minor obstacles in his path.

As they progress through the back alleys, the buildings grow progressively more decrepit, many of them clearly built around the remains of burnt-out husks from the Temple's purge-by-fire of this district many years ago. At last, Torn-Ear pauses just before one corner, and turns to Piper after a quick glance around to make sure the area is clear. "All right, here's where I'll let you go on alone. You go right at this alley, here, and go down the block. The Blood Kings live in the basement of that burnt-out shell just past the next corner. I'll keep an eye on you from a distance. Got it?"

Piper nods and pulls an herb bag from his belt. "Misseur that I am looking for is a Gallee, oui?"

"Err… " The lupine looks briefly confused. "He's one o' your kind, yeah. I dunno whether he's one o' those, whatchacallem, pure-bloods or not. I mean, livin' in Darkside, I'm betting 'no', but I wouldn't know."

The Gallah nods, his ears flapping with the motion. "I just wanted to be sure, misseur. If you see any danger just howl. I run very fast." He smiles and wags his tail and then ducks down the alley, intently sniffing at the ground and juggling the bag of herbs in his hand.

The street smells foul, a trickle of sludgy liquid running down one side to the grate near the middle (at least even this part of Darkside still has sewers). The scent from the gutter, especially, reeks of Kavi, almost overshadowing the odors left by those just walking past. Those scents, too, suggest high traffic from Kavis, and as the canine nears the street corner, he still can't pick out any smells from other races.

Piper takes a moment to bury his nose into the herb bag to clean the lingering odors from his sinuses as he continues on. He weaves right as directed, sneezes softly, and makes his way down the block, his nose still twitching as he studies the ground for footprints.

The day has only grown warmer as the afternoon wears on, and the heat makes the odors in the air more pungent. As Piper crosses the street, he notices a mongoose (or, that is, a Kavi with mongoose-like markings) lounging on the stone steps before the charred frame of an old building, little left of it save the foundation, the chimney, and some crumbling support walls. The foundation is raised on the near side, and the shutters are raised on narrow slats of basement windows that face the street, suggesting the underground half of the hulk remains inhabited.

The hard-packed ground doesn't carry many distinct footprints, though occassionally the Gallah can make out the print of a boot here, or the pad of a paw.

The Gallah does his best to look nonchalant. He takes another sniff from his bag and makes a couple of chirping noises that sound vaguely like vermite squeaks. He angles his path to take him past the front steps as he tries to catch a whiff of something that isn't a Kavi.

The mongoose on the steps appears inattentive, perhaps even dozing in the sunlight, though he stirs and bats one hand lazily at the air when he hears the dog chirp. A gust of wind provides a little relief from the warmth as Piper crouches along the street in front of the building. He catches the sound of voices inside, raised in argument – one high and chittering, the other lower-pitched, growling.

Piper freezes in his step and strains an ear towards the building. He chews on his lip in thought and then sneaks along to one of the sides of the steps, squatting down to try to stay out of sight as he strains to hear inside the building.

" – just tell you this, Claws," the lower, growling voice says, as Piper crouches in the shadow of the steps. "Stop flexing your muscles just to prove you can." The sound drifts out through an open window a few feet from the brown-and-white Gallah's current position.

The Gallah shrinks down, his muscles tensing as he listens. He dumps a handful of the herbs into his paw and rubs them against himself to mute his scent just in case the canine inside has a nose as keen as his own. He listens intently for footsteps in case he needs to duck further out of sight to escape the eyes of anyone suddenly deciding to depart the building.

The conversation inside continues, while the Kavi on the steps rolls over and stretches, yawning. "You forget where you are, Garone," the other voice comes from the basement, a mongoose's chitter.

"And you forget who you are," the first barks. "If the dragon fell, so can you. Don't push it."

Piper starts to back away, having heard enough to get the gist of the conversation and not wanting to press his luck. He tries ducking around to the side of the building to hide and wait for someone to come out.

As the Gallah slips away, moving slowly to keep quiet, he hears, "Don't threaten me!" from the Kavi inside voice rising with anger.

"I'm not threatening you," Garone, by contrast, sounds more weary than anything else, and whatever he says next, Piper is too far away to catch. He circles wide around the window so that his shadow doesn't fall over it, crossing into the street, but he catches a whiff of the odors from inside anyway – Kavi scents, of anger and fear, and one Gallah note, the dominant emotion anger. Piper is a few yards from the corner when he hears a voice say "Hey!" from the steps behind him.

Piper puts a hand to the front of his belt and turns around. "Oui, misseur?"

The mongoose on the steps has straightened, and climbs to his feet, eyes narrowed as he watches the Gallah. "What're you doing here? This is Blood King territory, boy."

The Gallah shrinks down. "I am very sorry, misseur. I was hunting for vermites. There is not much for them to eat in the sewers right now so they have moved into the streets. I thought I saw one around your building when I had a need to … um … utilisez la toilette. But then I saw vous and felt it would be ruse to do such a thing near your post so I chose to move on."

The Kavi guard's eyes narrow further. "Izzat so?" He lets out a piercing whistle, and hops down from the stairs, advancing towards the Gallah, managing to look menacing more because Piper is hunched over than by any virtue of his own size. "Let me tell you this, hunter: this turf belongs to the Blood Kings, and that includes everything on it. Even the vermites." He jabs one finger at the dog's chest, emphatically.

Piper shrinks down even further, and acts as if the poke was strong enough to knock him back by a foot or so. "Forgive me, aimable maitre. I shall not hunt here again. I am sorry to have disturbed you at all."

The pace that the Gallah falls back is enough to put him past the corner of the building, and out of the corner of his eye Piper catches the movement of a couple of advancing shadows. The Kavi before him smirks, taking a step forward to close the gap. "I'll just bet you're sorry, pooch. Now, maybe if you just pay the fine, we can just forget all about this little incident, hmmmmm?"

"Oui, Misseur. I only have a few shekels, but I can also offer you a pouch of herbs that will keep the vermites from climbing on you while you guard the building. I saw one of them sniffing at your ear a moment ago but you swatted it away before it could bite." The Gallah holds out a handful of pocket change and an herb bag, bowing and whimpering like a frightened pup. He hopes that perhaps giving the Kavi the satisfaction that it was able to bully a larger dog and get a few things from him might make him smug enough to back off.

The guard grabs the offered items promptly enough, though he looks a little squeamish at the thought of a vermite crawling on him, and he rubs the side of his head with his free hand reflexively. The two Kavis advancing down the side street smirk, coming to a halt a few paces from the Gallah. "Maybe you should pay the vermite-catcher to stick around, Bite," one says to the first guard. "You can't even keep watch against them!" The Kavi next to him guffaws.

Piper folds his hands in front of his chest. "I would be happy to clean any vermites from your building, misseurs… free of charge! If you will allow me to pass without any trouble. I am only trying to make a living and want no trouble."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah." Bite rubs the side of his head again, then glares at Piper. "You think we need help from the likes of you?" he says, loudly and not entirely convincingly. "G'wan, get out of here before I change my mind!" He stomps a foot against the ground to emphasize his point.

Piper jumps back and nods. He jogs backwards a few feet and then turns tail and runs down the block, ducking down an alleyway to "hide". He smoothes his fur down, waiting a minute or two, then circles the block to approach the Blood King hideout again, sniffing at the air, trying to get a whiff of the other Gallah and checking to see if he might have exited along with the other two Kavi.

One of the others says, as the Gallah retreats, "I dunno, Bite, that sounded like a pretty good deal to me… "

Bite stomps his foot again. "Shut up, Fang."

Unfortunately, once Piper sneaks back around, it appears that Bite has resumed his earlier position on the stoop, but this time he stands and appears fully awake. One of the Kavi reinforcements stands guard at a staircase around the back, leading downwards, and similarly seems alert now, making it unlikely that the Gallah could approach the building unseen again.

The Gallah sits and thinks for a moment, scratching at his ear. He takes a moment to soak in his surroundings as he looks around for a sewer drain or a pipe with access to it.

The burnt-out husk of the first floor of the Blood King's den occupies one half of the block Piper faces, while the back half has just an empty lot. The front stoop, with Bite guarding it, is on the left side of the building, as Piper faces it, while the back staircase is on the right, facing the empty lot. Narrow grates from the street lead down to the sewer at points roughly in the middle of both the street Piper is across from, and the street that Bite faces.

Piper ponders his options and decides to go back to Torn-Ear for now. He drops a few vermite lures down the grate to cluster them near a spot where they might be useful and then heads back to where the wolf is waiting.

The wolf stands near the street corner where Piper had left him, flipping a knife in circles and catching it by the hilt as he waits, glancing around from time to time. When the Gallah reappears, he grins. "Hey, was wondering what was keepin' ya. I was watchin' when ya bribed 'em to letcha go, figured you'd be back then. Nice job. Find anything out?"

The Gallah straightens his belt out. "I think Misseur was in there arguing with the Kavi. I might be able to get closer if I travel through the sewers, but they are wary right now and it may be good to wait."

"What, Machkat's in there now?" The wolf perks his ears, his grin widening. "Dagh's teeth. Could you smell where he'd come from?"

Piper shakes his head. "I could not scent him outside the building. Either he is cunning enough to cover his scent, or he does not come in from the streets."

"Or I simply did not come across his scent," the Gallah reluctantly adds.

Torn-Ear looks disappointed. "There's rumor of a sewer access to their place, though I hadn't given it much credit." He rubs a hand over his mangled ear. "Lemme go show you where I was watchin' you from. If he doesn't go through the sewers you might be able to see him come out there. Or there's a drainage pipe a couple of blocks off, if you want to check out the sewers for him." The wolf wrinkles his own nose distastefully at the prospect.

"We will watch at first, then. A sprinkled some bait into one of the nearby grates and I am curious if it will cause any sort of disturbance." The Gallah licks his nose. "I do not know how familiar I am with the sewers here, but if he does travel down them I may be able to follow."

"All right. C'mon." Torn-Ear beckons Piper to follow, picking his way through the ruins of a nearby foundation.

The wolf leads Piper up a stairway to the second floor in an abandoned building, that the lupine seems to think safe enough despite the several missing planks, then along one of the ceiling beams to an empty window. "Stick to where the crossbeams are when you walk up here," Torn-Ear warns, "the floor's not safe." His caution is reinforced by gaping holes in the floor, where boards have given way. Torn-Ear waits with the Gallah, lacadaisically keeping an eye out through the window, which overlooks the Blood Kings' place. After a short while, they hear yipping sounds from somewhere in the vicinity of the adjacent building.

Torn-Ear glances sharply to Piper, while the Kavi guards below straighten and look about nervously, not seeming to know what the cause is, either.

Piper sniffs sharply through his nose as he plays balance-beam. "I think we have just gotten confirmation that he travels through the sewers, Misseur Torn-Ear."

The wolf chortles silently, as muffled curses come to their ears. A few minutes later, a thin Gallah with a squashed, beefy face stomps up the back staircase, brushing at his clothing. He exchanges a few sentences with Fang, but whatever he says is inaudible from Piper's position. "There's our man," Torn-Ear whispers.

With the light breeze blowing towards them, the Gallah catches a whiff of the canine's scent – it matches what he smelled briefly earlier, when he was outside the basement window.

The Gallah nods quietly as he tries to remember the scent. "The sewers will mask him, but I have his scent now. Perhaps if he is feeling a bit less cautious he may decide to travel to his home above the sewers."

Even as the Gallah offers this theory, Machkat finishes his conversation with the guard, and heads down the street, still brushing at his clothing as he covers the ground in long, impatient strides. Torn-Ear looks at Piper, and grins, wolfish. "We got him."

The Gallah nods, feeling a lump growing in his stomach. "I hope I can be brave, misseur. If he's been in the sewers, I can track him as easily as though his tail were on fire." He backs up. "I am ready."