Raneah is quiet and meek as usual, as she is wheeled into the Life Mage's office, not lifting her chin the least bit, and her one good eye staying trained on her folded hands in her lap, rather than looking about at the plaster casts, dangling talismans, shells and teeth and claws hanging or perched here or there. She is adorned in a loose and blousy dress with a Himaatian flair to it, a veil obscuring her half-ruined face, and a drape covering her "legs".

Across the office is a brightly-plumed Kujaku, his tail feather colors suggesting those of a Creen more so than a peacock, adorned in a color-blind collage of finery that adds to the rainbow effect. Half of the walls of this hexagonal room are taken up by floor-to-ceiling windows, and he presently stands right in front of one, silhouetted against the cloudy expanse off of the edge of the sky island as he chirps merrily to a two-headed Creen he holds perched on his finger.

The Kujaku hardly seems to notice that he has visitors, though the one of the Creen's heads chances a curious look at Raneah and the lupine wheeling her in.

It has been some time since the Jupani left Ashtoreth. The man once known as Arkold Volkenheld no longer goes by his family name, giving it up as his own family gave up on him many years back. He left his old surname on Ashtoreth and has been fine with using the last name he used as a boat captain on the watery planet. It wasn't easy in leaving. The right hands had to be greased, and their oil was expensive indeed. But still he has managed to make off with a good amount of money – a small portion present in his clothing. His outfit makes him look like a cross between a Karnor explorer and a Khattan trader-prince: baggy desert draping for clothing and a more martial selection of knives, guns (empty), and a large scimitar of Khattan origin – enough to make most wonder just what sort of wares this apparent merchant-prince might trade at all. He walks in behind the strangely colored Khatta woman now, and hails the mage he had come to meet, "'Ey, greetings mage."

The Kujaku blinks a few times, looking away from the creature perched on his hand, and following the gaze of what is now both of the Creen's heads as they look to Arkold and Raneah. "Greetings!" the peacock-man twitters, his wings shifting behind him. "Well, what can I do for you? Hmm." He regards the Abu Dhabian flair of the attire of his visitors. "A sick Gooshurm, perhaps?"

"Nah," answers Arkold with a chuckle. "A friend. An' one who ain't doin' too good. Tell me mage, what do yah know about offworlders? Namely from Ashtoreth. Species … uh … Siren?"

"Sirens? Oh! Ashtoreth! One of the Gateway Worlds. Yes, yes," the Kujaku twitter-chirps, bobbing his head. "I was asked by the Emirate to examine some samples brought back from that world. Fascinating, really. They're amphibious, you know."

Arkold nods slowly. "You don' say?" He waxes suspicious and steps forward past Raneah, standing in front of her. "And uh, how were these samples brought to yah? I'd be, uh, interested in hearing that fish-tail. Alive, yah?"

"Ah, no, actually," the Kujaku chirps, his plumage drooping slightly. "Cadavers, recovered after a clash with the Sirens on Ashtoreth. I was summoned to Abu Dhabi, to perform autopsies and rituals to determine more about their nature. I have yet to see a living sample."

"An' … wha' would you do with a livin' example?" asks Arkold carefully.

The Kujaku twitter-laughs. "Why, give it a thorough examination and quite too many questions – from a safe distance, of course. I've heard that they can be quite nasty."

Raneah maintains a fairly blank expression during the exchange, not removing her gaze from her folded hands.

"I hope a few feet's enough fer yah." The Jupani steps to the side, bows as he learned to do from innumerable Khattan merchants, and makes a sweeping gesture towards Raneah with a grin on his face. "Meet Raneah, a Siren, an' someone close as to be thought of as family by me an' whose wounding I have felt most bad abou'." As the wolf speaks several of his words are weighted, and with verbal underlining the wolf gives the Kujaku a look as if seeing if he got the hint.

There's a commotion from the next room, as a number of exotic animals start chirruping, barking, and making other noises – much like the fuss they made when Arkold and Raneah first arrived. The mage must have another visitor – and it would appear that the visitor in question is a winged ki'rin in the robes of an Earth Mage, known to many as Envoy of Lothrhyn.

And to Raneah Arkold offers, "Raneah, meet Mage Viridian of tha' Sphere 'o Life."

Raneah looks up shyly. Only one good eye peeks up past her Abu-Dhabian veil, as half of her face is grotesquely scarred, and one eye ruined.

Envoy blinks in surprise to see Arkold and Raneah, and has to stop herself from waving and saying hello; no telling what identity Arkold may be using now.

The Kujaku gasps in surprise. "A Siren? Here? Really?" His curiosity gets the better of him, and he leans forward, clicking his beak as he examines the veiled Siren. He doesn't even notice the winged alien's arrival.

Arkold glances back towards the entrance, and to Mage Envoy who he regards with brief surprise that only fades when he immediately turns back to step closer to Raneah. "She ain't no specimen' 'o yours, remember tha'. An' what I'm here abou' is 'er face. Treat her with respect due 'er, got it? 'Er name's Raneah," he tells the mage.

The two-headed rainbow-winged Creen that was perching on the peacock-man's hand flutters into the air in a flurry of color, and alights upon a perch located just next to the doorway into the life mage's office. One of the heads curiously watches the exchange with Raneah, while the other peers at Envoy and chirrups in an inquisitive tone.

"Oh! Her face. Yes … that looks … dreadful. Please pardon me, but may I have a better look? The veil, I must confess, greatly limits my ability to gauge the extent of the … ah … injury," Life Mage Viridian chirps.

Not wanting to interrupt, the Aeolun sets down the sealed bag she carries, which makes a slight sloshing sound, and takes a seat. Smiling to the odd Creen, Envoy offers a few chirrups back to it.

Half of the two-headed Creen squeals happily back to Envoy and bobs its head merrily. The other head just cocks its head, still inspecting the life mage's original visitors.

The Jupani nods slowly. "Right. Raneah, doll? Take off tha' mask. The mage is 'ere to help you. Or uh, I'm 'ere to get the mage to help you, anyway," the wolf tells the Siren. He then glances past the Siren to the Exile and waves a hand, then looks back to Raneah.

Raneah timidly reaches up, pulling away her veil. A few strands of seaweed-like hair spill free, and her face is much more apparent now – It is very feline, though with features much more smooth and streamlined than a normal cat's, and tinted in odd, bluish patterns. She looks up reluctantly at the mage with her one good eye.

The Kujaku regards Raneah carefully, twitter-muttering to himself, and then he looks up with some surprise. "Oh! Earth Mage Envoy! Sorry I didn't see you come in. Do you have those samples from Ashtoreth the message-creen told me about? Come here! You must see this – a genuine Siren!"

Arkold stands up straight and nods to Envoy, grinning at her. "Yah, 'ey, look. An' actual Siren, how abou' that Mage Envoy?" He gives the Exile a wink that, on Arkold, comes off as roguish. As if he were up to something. Which he is, obviously.

Envoy smiles to the Kujaku, and nods. "Yes, I've brought some living examples of the 'spliced' animals that are made on Ashtoreth. I'd never have expected to find a Siren here on Caroban though."

Raneah tenses at the close examination, though she obediently moves her head this way or that as the Kujaku examines her face. "Quite fascinating," the peacock repeats. "Well! Perhaps we should all retire to the Pool, since it seems that my business today will be concerning aquatic life-forms. Ah … the life-forms you brought are friendly, aren't they, Mage Envoy?"

"Oh yes, quite friendly," Envoy assures the Life Mage. "So long as you don't startle them," she adds, picking up the water-filled bag as she stands.

"They ain't half-bad folks when you get to know 'em. Well, uh … except for that whole power-trip thing their leaders 'ave. An' bein' soggy in the ol' humor bone if yah know what I mean," Arkold explains, gesturing to Raneah as he talks about her people. He then quickly adds, "But Raneah's jus' great."

"I'll endeavor not to startle them," the Kujaku says, as he stands up straight again, ending his examination of the wheelchair-bound mermaid-cat for the time being. "If you will be so kind as to follow me… " He leads the way out of the office, his rainbow-colored train dragging behind him.

The lupine steps around Raneah's wheelchair and takes up the guides. "Gotcha," he says. And soon he's following along with Raneah being pushed along in front of him.

The wheelchair sits next to one of the warmer pools, while Raneah swims back and forth, obviously far more at home here than she has been for the longest time, being wheeled about in Sinai's comparatively dry climate. The two centipede-like creatures that Envoy brought back from Ashtoreth chitter and click as they scuttle about, while the jellyfish "goggles" and the little squid creature are not terribly active or exciting as they bob quietly.

The Kujaku sits to one side of the pool, in the center of a magic circle inscribed in the floor in the form of a tile mosaic, with lit candles on raised stands. The runes surrounding his circle duplicate the larger runes that ring the pool that Raneah currently swims in. The peacock has been somewhat apart from the world for many minutes, chanting a spell apparently meant to tell him something more about Raneah's condition, while his visitors await the diagnosis.

Arkold sits on his haunches about a foot away from Raneah's pool and outside the magic circles. He's been quiet for some time now and by the way he lays his ears back and squints his eyes it looks like he's been paying careful attention to the ritual. Until now. He breaks from that and blinks, turning to locate Mage Envoy. "'Ey, Mage Envoy?"

Envoy can't help but admire Viridian's collection while she awaits the results of the spell. "I wonder how much of this he acquired on his own?" she whispers to Arkold. "I take it the treasure was sufficient for your needs?"

Raneah swims circles in the pool. She quite noticeably keeps her distance, however, from Envoy's "pets", apparently disturbed by them, even if they've come from the same world.

The wolf's head stops and he blinks all the more finding the Exile right next to him. "Uh, oh! Yah. Dunno abou' the collection, but I know mine is great. Thanks for that, Envoy." He smiles, a thankful and pleased look that for once doesn't hint quite so much that he's being sly about something. Maybe even an honest smile. "But 'ey, when yah were on tha' ship, did'ja see Cap'n Kitty's guard? The feline? Did she remind yah of anyone? She gave me the creeps."

The peacock mage chirps a few more arcane phrases, oblivious to Arkold's and Envoy's discussion for the time being.

"Guard?" Envoy asks, assuming Arkold is talking about Prince-Captain Rashad. "No, he didn't have any crew on his urgan."

"Uh, none at all? Huh," says Arkold. He leans forward towards the Exile and whispers, "She kinda reminded me of Blossom. You know, tha' fallen Templar? Dagh take 'er and her memory." His eyes drift and he notes Raneah avoiding the other sea-life. "The Sirens don' like splicing. They 'ate it actually, s'the cause 'o the war between the Sirens an' the Mariners. Can't say I blame 'em for not likin' it … it's kinda, I dunno … wrong-lookin'."

The little squid-creature and the jellyfish "goggles" bob indifferently in the water, oblivious to Arkold's or Raneah's opinions. They make for fairly boring pets, really. Goldfish would be more exciting.

"I find it very comforting myself," the Aeolun says, but files away the information for later. "Will you and Raneah be returning to Ashtoreth after her treatment?"

At last, the chirping chants from the peacock-mage cease. He opens his eyes, and immediately grabs a sheet of parchment and starts scribing a number of notes and symbols. Envoy can sense the aura of the spell fading away as the enchantment ends.

The wolf shakes his head. "I dunno," he says, quietly. "Can' really go back. So I'm thinkin' of stayin' 'ere a while."

The Life Mage gets up from his magic circle, smoothing out his multi-colored robes, and strides over toward the wolf. "Ah, sir … " It finally dawns upon the Kujaku that he never got the wolf's name. "Here is my best estimate on treatment for the subject's scarring." He hands a smaller sheet of parchment over. It has a number of figures on it, listed in shekels. It has an amount visible, listed in gold.

"Have you been to the Gigi coast?" Envoy asks. "I hear that it is a very relaxed region."

Envoy gets a glimpse of the final amount on the bill, and winces sympathetically.

Arkold visibly winces at the paper. It takes him a moment to recover, but he clears his throat and nods. "'Ers a deal for yah. Raneah an' I can stay 'ere a while an' answer some of yer questions. I'm tellin' yah, yah ain't gunna be talkin' to a Siren for a long while – if ever again. S'a good deal fer yer research, for Raneah, an' fer me," he tells the mage. And to Envoy he offers, "This might be interestin' fer you, lady mage, yah may wanna convince yer friend 'ere jus' how useful this offer is."

Raneah stops weaving back and forth, curiously watching.

"He has a point, Mage Viridian," Envoy admits. "Nobody on Ashtoreth outside of the Sirens themselves know anything about Sirens. You'd have the only accurate information on them."

The life mage frowns. "It's a very generous offer of yours, and the very act of performing this ritual would afford me with a remarkable opportunity to examine … Raneah – and I have indeed kept that into consideration. The amount that I listed for labor for myself is thus discounted as noted … " He points at an arcane cluster of legalese. My, but he must write fast to have crammed so much on this page! "But my expenses in this matter are very real. I will need to hire several apprentices to assist in the primary ritual, and the material components are quite rare on Sinai."

"Ah," Envoy says, and shrugs to Arkold. "There might be some materials that could be done without, but since Siren biology is largely unknown it would be risky."

The Kujaku nods. "Exactly. We're not talking about someone's … ah … pet silver darter here, after all."

"I got a few, uh, conditions fer yah though if I'm to accept this. One, yah ain't gunna use this information about them as military research. An' I know several parties woul' ask yah for it jus' to 'urt them. Yah may use it fer peaceful purposes, but no' war. Maybe it can end that war 'o theirs if they knew a bit more. Got it? Good." The wolf stands up and peers down at the paper, holding his hand out for the quill pen. He glances at Envoy and nods to her. "Secon', my name isn't to be included in this. Or Raneah's. In the event either of these are broken well, I gotta protect my interests. The cost would be, heh, heavy." The wolf then looks up over the document and watches the mage curiously.

The peacock-mage raises an eye-ridge curiously. "Fair enough. My interests are purely scholarly, I assure you, and I am quite familiar with the concept of patient confidentiality."

"You could probably try to acquire some of these materials yourself, Arkold," Envoy suggests. "It might bring the cost down. If you have enough to pay for them though, that's what I'd recommend you do."

A approving nod from the wolf. He sits down again and puts the document to the floor and begins writing. His handwriting is wholly at odds with his appearance and manner, and it looks quite practiced, actually. He begins adding these extra agreements and the penalty for breaking them when Envoy interrupts. He looks up. "Yah think so? Where exactly do they come from, anyway?"

"Remote places mostly," the Earth Mage says. "Plus there are quality issues to worry about, special preparations and so forth. Suppliers of magical components are usually very specialized and slightly insane."

"The material components, you mean?" the Kujaku twitters, nodding at Envoy's comment. "Well, fairly hazardous places, really – areas steeped in chaotic magic. I can provide you with a more detailed list. I should note that there is no great pressure of time on this – If you want some time to make your decision, I will certainly understand. And there is no place better than Caroban in which to find some life mages who can give you second opinions … though I do not know of any who share my specialty in xenobiology."

Arkold looks between them, and then to the paper in hand. "Eh." He takes in a deep breath and nods. "I'd like to see tha' list 'o yours. Once I see it I'll be makin' my decision," he tells them both.

The Kujaku nods. "I'll be back shortly, after I compile a list. Please don't bother any of the specimens while I'm gone. Some of them are less sociable than they appear." With that, he heads up the spiral stairs back to the main level.

With the mage gone Arkold walks to the edge of Raneah's pool and drops down on his haunches, watching her. "Raneah … wha' would yah do if yah didn't have that scar on yer face? Where woul' yah go?" he asks her quietly.

Raneah looks back up to Arkold. "Where would I go?" She blinks back at Arkold. "Wherever you wish me to, master."

"Just the scar would be relatively easy I think," Envoy notes. "Most of the rare components and extra help listed there are for repairing the eye."

The man reaches over and rubs his forehead. "Right," he mutters, sounding tired though not annoyed. "If you had ta chose where'd you go, what made you happy, would yah still follow me? I'm tellin' yah to answer me honestly now. An' uh … don' call me master anymore. Call me Arkold."

"I guessed as much. But yah don' understand Envoy, they won' accept her if she isn't perfect," Arkold tells the Exile behind him.

"Yes, ma – Arkold," Raneah says. Arkold's been through the business of "Don't call me master" before. She'll remember to call him Arkold now for the remainder of the day. After that, it'll be back to business as usual. "I have no life but to follow you."

Envoy purses her lips for a moment, then whispers to Arkold, "The Abyssinians might, if it meant a chance to reach an understanding with the Sirens."

Arkold nods slowly to Raneah and reaches over to muss up her hair some. "An' show the Sirens what, huh? That Abyssinians still make spliced monsters an' that offworlders hurt them? I ain't goin' to show them that." He frowns deeply, then nods once. "But I can fix what I did to Raneah at least. An' I will. I promise. I said it'd be better, an' I meant it."

Raneah bites her lip, quiet for a moment, then looks up plaintively to Arkold with her one good eye. "Arkold?" she says in a tone that suggests she might as well have been saying "Master". "Are you going to give up all of your shekels to repair my face?"

The wolf leans to the side so he can look around his arm and at Raneah's face. "Tha's right," he answers.

Raneah lowers her gaze. "Arkold, you do not have to do such things for me. You want to see the other waters and islands."

Arkold smirks, then smiles broadly. "'Course I don'. I want to, an' that's it. 'Cause I should. What's a fortune when yer friends are hurtin'?" He shrugs. "I've lost a fortune before. I'm gettin' used to it."

"But you are not responsible for my injury," Raneah says, the insides of her ears blushing. She cannot meet his gaze.

"Wha … ?" The wolf looks puzzled, and his expression fades from a hopeful smile to surprise, then confusion. "What do yah mean? Didn't I … I mean, with the harpoon on the ship? I saw you out there."

Envoy watches the interplay in silence, but begins to wonder just how much of Arkold's gruff exterior is an act.

Raneah keeps her gaze lowered, sinking deeper into the water. "You suggested the idea, and I did not protest. It is not for someone of my station to disagree with my master, so I agreed with whatever you said. Birkasa was slain by the exploding harpoon. I did not correct you, for I thought the idea that you had Birkasa as your slave pleased you. I did not wish to anger you."

The Jupani rises and runs his hand through his hair, muzzle half parted as if trying to speak, but not having the words. He glances at Envoy, tries to return to a more rough and tumble grin but the grin wavers and fails on his face. "Man," he finally mutters. "I gotcha … I … then … I mean uh, who … who did tha' to yah?"

"I do not know," Raneah confesses. "I was not so close to the explosion that ruined my face. I did not mean to put you through so much trouble for me, Arkold."

"You don' … know?" The wolf's ears flick, and he shakes his head as if stirring from some thought that had his attention. "So … then … " the hand falls from his face, and he looks down at Raneah squarely. " … what does it matter if I hurt yah, or if it was someone else?" His muzzle creases in a weak smile.

"I'm still gunna help you," Arkold adds, and his smile grows.

Envoy grins. "I guess it only matters who helps you, Raneah."

Arkold gives Envoy a thumbs up with his free hand. "Wisely said, my winged friend." He turns the smile on her for a moment, too.

Raneah peeks up hopefully at Arkold, under a tangle of seaweed-like hair. "You are very generous, Arkold," she says meekly. Then, with a splash of water, while Arkold is looking toward Envoy, she suddenly rushes forward, throwing her very wet arms around Arkold at the side of the pool and hugging him.

The Aeolun successfully resists the sudden urge to tip Arkold into the pool. Thinking like a mortal apparently involves second-guessing oneself often.

The lupine's reaction is pitifully slow, he begins to look over and meets the Siren with a dumbfounded gape and a cry of "Wha?" as she hugs him. He staggers a little and skids to land on his rear in a clumsy attempt to sit to keep himself from falling over. For a moment he just stares at the Siren, and then, he returns the hug. "My pleasure," he tells her. And he smiles brightly, minus the sly tint.