It was very swift. A knock on the door, and there she was again… bright sandy fur and sparkling hair. She gave him a note with explicit instructions, "Meet Chaser behind the temple, and don't allow yourself to be seen. You may need to hide your sword before you go into the Temple… it may draw suspicion. Good luck." She gave him a kiss goodbye, and then departed as quickly and mysteriously as she appeared.

Now Jarik has reached the meeting point, a grimy alleyway behind the Temple. But a secluded area … not a guard in sight.

The fox glances about the alleyway, hood pulled down to obscure his face. He left his armor back in his temporary residence to assist in quiet movement. His sword is buried deep within the folds of his tattered cloak.

After a few moments, the doorway slides open and a lone Savanite steps out. She stands there with a bundle in her arms and eyes the fox nervously.

Jarik bows to the Savanite. "Good day," he says quietly, "Chaser, I presume?"

Chaser nods, studies the fox closely… and then thrusts the bundle into his arms.

Jarik takes the bundle, examining it. "I appreciate the risk you're taking to help me, Chaser. Thank you," he says.

The bundle turns out to be a Temple Apprentice's robe. Garishly bright colors, all orange and green, but something to help blend in better inside. At the comment from Jarik, Chaser simply bows, her face neutral.

Jarik looks at his cloak. "Is there a place I can leave this? It'll hinder this disguise, I think," he says as he removes it. The fox pulls the robe on, adjusting it to hopefully hide his fox's tail and his sword. "How's that?" he asks.

Chaser's hands flick about in Savanite sign, but by her expression she's not entirely pleased. She goes behind some of the crates and returns with a handful of dust. the cheetah holds it out to Jarik with one hand, and makes face rubbing motions with the other.

Jarik takes the dust, "Red fur, Ah, I understand." He rubs the dust onto the exposed fur of his face. He can't see, but he's hoping it helps obscure his species, perhaps a more lupine appearance.

The Savanite produces another handful of dirt and attacks the fox's tail and exposed feet and ankles with it. She inspects Jarik's face, rubs a bit here and there and then nods, satisfied… almost. She points to the sword-tip sticking out from under the robe's hem and frowns.

Jarik unhooks the sword from his belt and frowns. "Where do I leave this so it'll be safe? I won't lose it again," he says.

Chaser taps her chin with a blunted claw-tip, then brightens. She motions for Jarik to follow her and heads back into the door she entered from.

Jarik follows Chaser into the Temple…

The room beyond the door is dimly lit, and appears to be… a kitchen? An unoccupied kitchen at the moment. The Savanite closes the door behind her and leads Jarik into a supply closet. She pulls aside some sacks of grain, and motions for the fox to place the sword on the floor.

Jarik does as he's motioned to do. He places the sword on the floor. For once he's thankful for the dim light. It'll obscure his normally slit vulpine pupils. They'll dilate to an average looking eye.

Chaser begins covering the sword with the sacks. Once she's sure it's properly hidden she wipes her hands off against her sides and exits the room.

Jarik follows the cheetah out of the closet. "Tell me something… just yes or no… " he says, "Is Lady Azhtar all right?"

The cheetah drums her fingers against her chest, she makes a few wild gestures with her hands and then just looks at Jarik. Perhaps a simple 'yes' or 'no' won't do the answer justice.

Chaser finally nods, and then makes some insistent signs for Jarik to follow her.

Jarik takes a breath, "I'd ask you to write it, but I don't have anything to write on." He nods slightly, "Lead on, Chaser. Please."

The Savanite grins, and slowly opens a door leading out of the kitchen. She peeks left and right and then steps out, quickly bowing her head and folding her hands and holding them limply together as she walks, as is customary for all Savanites.

Jarik follows along, keeping a lookout for any guards or Temple members. "You should take pride in what you are, Chaser… " He whispers, "I have great respect for your people."

The Savanite responds only with a sharp sniff of air into her nostrils. She leads the fox down a dizzying maze of passageways and corridors. There is only one thing to be sure about the direction. Jarik is slowly being led downwards.

Jarik looks around, trying to see if he remembers any of the passageways.

Some are familiar. Look, there's the corridor that leads to that old chamber where Melchizedek was almost assassinated. And there is Esther's office. And there is the clinic where the fox was healed.

As Chaser turns a corner, another familiar thing shows up. A poodle in garish green and magenta robes leans against a wall as he converses with two wolves and a horse-like Rhian. He pauses to look at Chaser, who raises her head to return the gaze.

Jarik glances at the old chamber. o O { So much began here. Mysteries to solve… }

Jarik stops behind Chaser, eyes training on the poodle. { Is that who I think it is… ? }

Caesar shoots another glance at Jarik, then back at Chaser. Then he suddenly seems to relax and goes back to chatting with his companions. Chaser calmly walks past and heads down a musty stairway.

Jarik follows behind Chaser, eyes never leaving Caesar. { Don't blow your cover, Jarik. He's not worth it. Just wait,} he thinks to himself, avoiding a snarl.

As the fox walks past, he can catch the very edge of the poodle's conversation. He's telling a lewd joke… very lewd.

Jarik snorts slightly; he can't stop it. It figures.

The stairway leads downwards into darkness. Halfway down the staircase, the Savanite reaches out and takes the fox's hand… leading him along. She places his hand on the wall and slides it along until it comes to a stop at another door, this one made of ceramic or some other equally hard material. The door is partially open.

Jarik's ears swivel, listening for any sounds…

No sound inside. Chaser gives him a gentle but insistent push, willing him to go inside.

Jarik slowly enters the room, senses alert. { Okay, I'm not sure I like this… }

The hand at Jarik's shoulder which was pushing so gently suddenly delivers a rather rough shove forward; moments later the ringing *clack* of the door being slammed shut can be heard. There's a soft gasping sound on the other side of the door followed by a dull thud.

Jarik spins around and grabs at the door, trying to pull it open! { No! It's a trap!! }

Jarik snarls. o O { I knew it! I should have trusted my instincts! }

The door has no handle, and seems quite resilient to the Fox's pushings and poundings. After a little bit, a slot in the door slides open and a pair of all-too-familiar eyes look in on the fox, the eyes of a poodle framed in the hood of a magenta and green cloak.

Even in the darkness, Jarik's pupils narrow a bit in response to anger and he glares through the opening. He rears back and punches the door, hard.

"Ah… Jarik, my dear, dear boy. It's good to see you back with us, now… Perhaps you could be so kind as to pay the five gold coins you owe the Temple for running away like you did," Caesar says. "We'll let you out of here and send you on your way… but… I don't suppose that you happen to have any gold coins on your person presently, do you?" The poodle jumps back as the fox slams his fist into the door, quickly closing the slot. "Well, you seem to be in a bad mood… perhaps I may cheer you up a bit by telling you how your dear Azhtar is?"

Jarik smiles fangily, "Any news you'd tell me is bad news. So, I'm sure you'll tell me. You did a great job in getting me here, by the way. Figured out I was in Himar, did you? Or did you have to get help?"

"Oh… the news of you and your glorious army of vermin spread far and wide," the poodle answers, his voice slightly muddled through the door… "But I digress… "

"Azhtar is dead."

Jarik's shoulders slump in the darkness. "How?" he asks.

Moffat's voice becomes slightly more distant, and a light begins to shine through the cracks in the doorway. "Oh, she attempted to escape and ran to some fool city in the Savan with her traitor master. The city she was in collapsed in a horrific display."

Jarik chuckles to himself, "Traitor? You're one to talk, Moffat. I know you were behind the attempt to discredit me. I even suspect you set up the assassination. Traitor, indeed." He stands up a bit taller, "Then she died free. At least she was allowed that dignity." He takes a breath. o O { That's two, Jarik. You're death to anyone who likes you. }

"Pah," the poodle responds. "Speak your words while you can, Exile. You escaped the Temple once… and we spent a great deal trying to find you. I feel that we'll not get that back by working your miserable hide here, as you've already proven yourself to be a runaway. So we shall see how you fare in the slave market. Enjoy your cell, fox… for in three days you shall probably end up with the 'fox flushers'." There is a swish of cloth outside, and the sounds of feet exiting as well as mumbled conversations. One of the voices is decidedly female, even though the only female around was the Savanite, and they can't talk … can they?

Jarik leans against the wall, head down. { I was sold out. I was a fool; I trusted Lady Vandice… How could I have been so stupid? She was planted to lure me back here. } He looks toward the door, snarling. "Moffat, you're dead. You'll NEVER be safe from me. I won't rest until I'm standing on your grave, do you hear me??" he shouts before sliding down the wall and sitting. "Zoltan was right, I'm too trusting." he sighs, shaking his head.