A black Vartan paces past the shelves and display cases in the Shoppe, polishing a string of beads that look like they've been polished to death already. He pauses to adjust some items back into their proper places and then continues pacing.

The door opens, and almost as quickly as the chime rings, a nose-biting odor heralds the arrival of a pallid Rokuga mage. The drum of feet behind him makes it clear he's brought company. The snake slithers through the doorway, glances around at the sparkling wares, and raises his dark glasses a little higher, looking slightly irritated.

Sniffing at the air, the black Vartan steps out from the aisles far enough to poke his head up the stairway leading to the roof, "Pouncer! You no bring you stinkbugs down here, did you?"

An assortment of people come through the door behind the Rokuga – not a Vartan amongst them. There's a whitish Skeek in billowy garb, a tall dyed Eeee in outrageously-colored attire, and an old grizzled Jupani with a patch over one eye, plus a few others.

"No, Papa!" comes a scrawking mewl from the roof.

The sound of his door opening and closing several times in succession is enough to turn the Vartan proprietor's head the other way. "Waugh! Customers, welcome to the Shiny Shoppe. Can I helps you?" A bead falls from the string he's been worriedly polishing in his hands.

The serpent inclines his head slightly toward the Jupani. "What did you say this… hunter's name was again?"

The Jupani laughs. "Baron Zoltan Cambio! Or, well, I think he's Squire Cambio now." He points at the largest person in the store.

In the play area, a little spotted cub looks up from playing with several worthless glass baubles, and blinks when he sees a Vykarin as part of the merchant group. He squeals and points at the Vykarin, proclaiming, "Baw!"

"Ah." The snake nods absently, then regards the Vartan. "Baron Cambio. I am the witchdoctor Zhu Ye Qing, of the Higher Institute. I have come with business to discuss."

Zoltan tucks his necklace away, arching an eyebrow. "Witchdoctor?"

The mouse-like Skeek squeaks, "Yosah ees to feend speereet hunter! Weesh to defeeat Eemeereenth!" He gestures to a wooden lock-box carried by "Honest" Makah. "Heev meenee sheekeels for honeereeble Zolteen Cambee's treeble!"

Qing nods again, one brow ridge rising slightly. "Yes, witchdoctor. Crafter of spirit magic. Mage, if you will. And the merchant speaks truly. Are you familiar with recent events surrounding a (cough) vampire fox?""

The black Vartan looks around the shop nervously. "This no place to discuss such business. Is no wise to talk magics in a Vartan shop… If you follow me I can take you to more private room where you no make customers nervous."

A cheetah servant wearing a leather headband and faded work-clothes makes her way down an aisle nearby, sweeping.

The Rokuga shrugs all three sets of shoulders. "Hmph. As you wish."

Zoltan points a thumb over his shoulder at a beaded hallway. "Star, we gots guests. Coulds you make some tea for us? We be in Merchant room." He scratches at his back and then motions for the group to follow him.

Already, several Vartan customers seem to be deeming it time to finish their purchases … (causing Red to suddenly become busier than before) … or else perhaps they've decided they've browsed enough for now, as they exit.

The cheetah servant bows her head, and pads off to a back room.

Apparently heedless or unaware of the effect, the mage follows silently along.

The Vartan leads the group up a flight of stairs and into a lesser-used part of the store, with rooms and space devoted mostly for storage and a few living quarters. He unlocks a door with an iron key from his pocket and ushers the newcomers inside. The furnishings are plain – the biggest piece of furniture is a large wooden table in the middle of the room that looks perfect for business dealings. Maps of Sinai mark the walls, as well as a few of the store's wares just for show.

Zoltan takes a seat at the head of the table and folds his arms across the top. "I apologizes for seeming rude down there. This whole thing gots many people scared, and I rather not have the people that keep my family fed from being scared off as well."

The Skeek, Jupani and Eeee quickly seat themselves. The fourth and fifth merchants in this group (a few apparently decided to stay outside) seem content to sit on the floor – a Vykarin and a Naga, respectively.

There's a brief distraction, as Zoltan's cheetah servant pours several cups of tea, andleaves the pitcher (and sugar cubes) at the table.

"Mm," replies the witchdoctor. He gets right to the point. "I was directly involved in that… 'thing'. Your patrons would find it all the more alarming to know that the entity responsible for those deaths is still at large… Otherwise, I'd have returned to Nagai to file my report in person, rather than mailing it. The merchants closest to the situation have told me you are a ghost 'hunter' of some note, and suggested enlisting your aid in the matter."

Honest Makah sets the lock-box on the table and opens it, revealing an assortment of shekels and semi-precious stones. It's probably enough to cover the Shiny Shoppe's operating expenses for several weeks, though it can't be quickly counted at a mere glance. "We have put together a fund to secure your services." He gestures to his fellow merchants with a sweep of his hairy arm.

"I no works for money. I may asks for help with supplies, but if I wanted to fight for money, I become a mercenary." The Vartan taps a talon against the table. "I know it still at large, been hearing things at the Temple. The name of it has been whispered along with the name of someone I hunting down. How can I be of service?"

The Rokuga coils near the table, resting his elbows on it. "You would have to tell me. What are your credentials? What experience do you have dealing with spirits and spirit magic? All I know about you is rumor, and to be frank, my experiences with superstitions have lead me to be skeptical about rumors."

Yosah stands up in his chair, and pounds the table. "Cambee ees greet heero! Seeved Reepheedeem manee teems! Yosah weent Eemeereenth feeneeshed, so Cambee ees one do for eet!"

"I specialize in dealings with an entity known as Necropolis," Zoltan replies. "I fought her avatar on Paradys and know more abouts her than probably any other person alive on Sinai. I also train in fighting spirits and undead extensively with the Knights Templar. The Champions can support me on that, if you wish to ask them."

Makah says in a far more calm voice than Yosah's, "Honored Mage Qing, we have no doubts about … Squire Cambio's credentials. It is our hope, though, that you may be able to shed light on what you have learned of 'Amaranth' for his benefit."

Astaro, the brightly-colored Eeee merchant, squeaks, "Well, for starters, we're not dealing with any 'Necropolis'. Amaranth is a ghost of an Exile 'Kitsune' … same as … the one whose name shall not be mentioned, may he burn in Sunala's eternal embrace."

The Vartan's expression remains neutral. "Is alrights. He has a right to asks about me, any merchant worth they shine always knows to test the wares first. Is only fair."

"Very well," hisses Qing, leaning back a bit. He keeps his gaze on Zoltan rather than looking at the merchants. "Were it my choice, I would not have to seek aid like this… but Amaranth is powerful, and crafty. Yes, this spirit seems to favor a form similar to the host that was dispatched not long earlier. It seems to have a background in sorcery, and an understanding of magic manipulation."

Qing continues, "The spirit appears to require a vulpine host. I'm not sure the significance of the tails, but it is known that several of Amaranth's victims had their tails cut off – namely Avram, a zolk merchant, and his family. Amaranth apparently abandoned Francisco not long before we captured him."

The Squire nods, "You know how host was acquired? Possession? Animated dead?"

"Agreement, evidently. The host appeared to maintain some semblance of free will, from what we could judge by accounts of Francisco speaking to air," replies the Rokuga.

Zoltan taps his head, recalling a few things in his mind. "Tell me abouts the host. What you notice about its? Any markings or symptoms?"

The Skeek shudders. "Yosah not know sheer, but Fahn – bad feex heev neestee weend on beeck of neeck. He steenk like … " The Skeek suddenly goes pale in the ears and for a moment looks like lunch is going to pop up to say howdy-do. He recovers. "He steenk leek deed."

Makah says, "The host was … forgive me for mentioning his name, but we all know he was Francisco, also known as 'Guy Fox' … the 'Kitsune', and an illusionist. He was posing as a Zerda, though, when he visited Roho's Hospital in Freedom Park."

Qing ponders this, thinking back to the ordeal. "Originally known as 'Guy Fox' amongst the Rephidimite commoners, he was a journeyman mage of the Sphere of Illusion, registered with the Collegia. We saw examples of his abilities in said sphere on one or two occasions. At several points, he was wounded, and apparently the entity was sustaining his body. It was evident that life functions were no longer being sustained, as Yosah mentioned. A nurse gave an account of checking him for life signs when she was examining his wounds, and found none."

Astaro blurts, "He was more than just an illusionist! He conjured up a host of demons who slew Chiri the Doctor and her slaves, and who proceeded to burn down the surrounding buildings! That was no illusion!"

"Upon the banishment or retreat of Amaranth's influence, the corporeal form dispersed," adds Qing, recalling the final encounter. "Myriad insects poured from the wound on the neck, until there was nothing left of the corpse."

Makah clears his throat, and gives a look to Astaro. Astaro sits back, and seems to calm down a bit.

"The wound on his neck. Tell me more abouts that. It remind me of something I read once; unfortunately the book is on loan at the moments." Zoltan does his best to remain composed, although his twitching ears, lashing tail, and fidgeting hands betray a certain amount of anxiousness.

The witchdoctor raises a hand at Astaro. "That was done through the use of previously made magic-imbued items, made using the help of Amaranth. We'll get to that." He nods at Zoltan slightly. "By several medical accounts, the wound should have been crippling or fatal. It was a rough gash, horizontal. Severe tissue damage to the back of the neck, exposed spine, advanced decay, and a serious infection."

The Skeek shudders again, and covers his mouth with a handkerchief.

"Did anyone see anything in the wound? Anything that not supposed to be theres?" Zoltan asks. One of his talons digs into the wood of the table.

The witchdoctor shakes his head. "From what I heard, it was just a festering, open wound. Both of the people examining Francisco were only allowed cursory looks, though I will note that the second examination revealed the wound to be worse than during the first examination. After the spirit retreated from the fox, the body instantly decayed, so there was nothing left for autopsy."

Makah idly looks at the table … perhaps counting the number of gouges in the table on Zoltan's side.

"Master Qing, this sound very familiar to the entity I fighting. Although I looking for a cat, this work in ways that are too close to similar to be waved off." The Vartan rises from his seat at the table and paces behind his chair, stroking the underside of his beak in thought. "You say that the spirit 'left' him. This happen at time you cast you spell or sometime earlier?"

"Difficult to say," replies the witchdoctor, tapping the table idly with a fingertip. "From what I can understand, Amaranth itself left the host some time before we captured it. There was still some essence of Amaranth left behind, however… a parasite, if you will, that allowed it to communicate mockingly with us before departing. Whether its departure was caused by my spell, or simply of its own volition is anyone's guess."

The Vartan takes a seat again abruptly, looking directly at Qing, "Sir, the entity I hunt possesses people with things called 'black hearts'. They inserted into the body – usually a corpse – and then take it over. When I read of this happening to a living host, I hear that it take possession slowly and part of the process included bad odor. This sound like you spirit?"

Qing ponders this bit of information. "There was definitely the smell of decay around the host. I had assumed it was deterioration caused by wounds that should have killed him, had the spirit not been sustaining him. Have you ever seen one of these bodies slain before?"

Qing persists, "And do you know of the method of insertion? The wound on the neck sounded knife-like, though there was no way to be certain."

"No. Amenlichtli is very secretives. What few scraps I know been hard to come by." The Vartan raps on the table with a talon. "I know that the heart is in the neck somewhere – at least in one case, because when host's head was cut off, it destroy the heart." He shakes his head, ruffling the feathers around his neck. "I coulds be jumping at shadows… but regardless, this spirit hurt lots of peoples. That reason enough to destroy it. If I can be of service, I happy to oblige… without payment beyond personal expenses."

The witchdoctor nods slightly. "Done and done. There are a number of parallels being drawn, here… However, there are other things to consider. This 'Necropolis'. Describe it to me. Has it been known to manifest under its own power, or was it confined to possessing bodies, as I presume Amaranth was?"

Zoltan takes a deep breath, "Necropolis is the queen of Aeztepa. I not know if she can leave there or if she trapped, but she show her power through Sinai through 'Avatars' as they called. I hear of two types she possess; one is a specially prepared corpse that go through some kind of ritual. The second is possession through the black hearts. Usually avatars take on personality of the host and pretend to be someone else… although one way to test is to play on Necropolis' ego from whats I understand."

"Avatars usually puppets she control, but they also individual… if that makes any sense." The Vartan's voice lowers somewhat. "She can possess people's bodies without the hearts, but only for short periods of time… seconds. It happen to me, and it happen to my daughter. That is why I wants to destroy her."

"Ahhh… then it is based along the legends of the 'City of the Dead'," murmurs Qing, the tip of his tail flipping. The red tassel on the end swings lazily. "I'm starting to recall these from theological discussions. Amenlichtli, Goddess of the Dead. Necropolis, a place of monsters, and of lost souls. Intriguing. And you say this entity can occupy corpses as well?" This last gives the Rokuga pause, as if in intense thought. His lowering brow pinches together over his dark glasses.

"I seen it with my own eyes, Master Qing," Zoltan scrawks. "I remember seeing a coffin with burial herbs in it and then later one of the Avatars came out. I also saw corpses rise from they graves, warriors go mad, and bony monsters animate theyselves around her presence."

The Skeek shudders. "Ees dees happeen een Reepheedeem?"

Qing nods grimly. "I was just reminded of one of the Temple coroner's reports. A passing bit of information that didn't register until now. In the slaughter of the Zerda Avram's family, one body was not accounted for. That of Rache, his daughter… "

Astaro says, "A great tragedy. The … Kitsune was regarded as a hero to all of us, when he rescued Rache from being sacrificed by cultists in the Old Cemetery. To Amaranth, the story went … After all, for the longest time, Amaranth was just another ghost story, an explanation for someone who went missing, or another death in Darkside."

Zoltan shakes his head. "This was on Paradys. Luckily we burned away all trace of her there." His eyes turn to the Eeee, "Cultists? Hrr… "

"Now it may well be more than that," whispers Qing, clenching his fists on the tabletop. "I must have been blind. Rache missing. The tails of the rest of the vulpine family missing. Amaranth abandoning Francisco as the host when the noose was closing upon him. The Serpent curse me for a fool."

The merchants turn to regard the Rokuga and his sudden display of emotion. They collectively look caught a bit off guard at this.

"How long ago has the lady been missing?" Zoltan leans back in his chair a little, realizing for the first time that he's shredding part of his business table.

The witchdoctor looks up again, a few muscles on his jaw twitching. "A week, perhaps longer. The Shiga-skin cloak Francisco was reported as wearing is gone as well."

Makah says, "We have no idea when … exactly … the letter … I mean … " He clears his throat. "We didn't check up on poor Avram until … some time after the fact."

"Amenlichtli does no take prisoners," the black hippogryph whistles. "Rache probably dead by now, even more likely if Necropolis lose her once. No take chances." Hr rises up from his chair again. "I can go to works as soon as you need me, Master Qing. Can be ready to fly in less than half hour."

Yosah's ears droop. "Poor Reesh."

Makah pats Yosah on the shoulder. "We all feared the worst."

Qing shakes his head, lowering his hat until his face is shaded from view. "I don't think you understand. Rache may be worse than dead by now. And Amaranth could have traveled anywhere using… " One arm wanders to the neck of Qing's mantle, finding the thread of a small wooden pendant. "It's a theory, but based on what we know, it seems the strongest lead."

"I understands very well, Master Qing," Zoltan scrawks. "I have ways of tracking magic use, and based on some things I seen, the Old Cemetery mights be a good place to looks first – although the Babelite guards might give us trouble. Hrr, probably less trouble with all rumors going around."

"Perhaps so. That is where the ceremony that created the gate was conducted." Qing looks up a little, so only the end of his nose can be seen past the rim of his hat. "That's right, I never mentioned the staff or the cloak to you, did I?"

"No Master Qing, you did no." The Vartan places a hand over the scratched-up section of table and then looks at his palm. "But anything mores you can tell me would be useful."

Makah helpfully suggests in a whisper, "You know, I could find you some lovely scrimshaw pieces that you could use to tile this table to cover up those unsightly gou – " He clamps his muzzle shut, apparently deciding that now is not the time to make a sales pitch.

Qing relaxes his hands finally, crooked from being tightened for part of the conversation. "The Gating Staff, which I so call because of the ritual used in its creation, is an item capable of summoning dark creatures. The ritual opened a 'gate' to an infernal place – perhaps another world, perhaps Necropolis itself – and tied it to the staff in question. It was confiscated after we'd chased down Francisco, and the Collegia now keeps it under wards, until they can think of a way to dispose of it."

Zoltan nods his head, making a 'go on' gesture with his hand.

"The other was a cloak composed of Shiga skin," hisses the witchdoctor. "Bright and colorful, apparently. I don't know if there is any significance to it, but it hasn't been found. I presume it must have some function. There were rumors of a fox in Darkside taking a Shiga skin, and I doubt he'd go to that much trouble for nothing but a grisly trophy."

The brightly-dyed bat says, "I do not know. The Kitsune was greatly taken with my colorful designs. He seemed to place great importance on wearing attire of vibrant colors. Perhaps … perhaps his desires went more deeply than I realized." He frowns severely.

"It must have a purpose," the Vartan scrawks. "To wear the skin of another person is a risk in itself. There must be something to gain from its. I hear legends about shapeshifters that wear skins of people to turn into them, or take some of they powers."

Qing hisses, "Whatever the case, that's all I know of. After the ordeal, I began writing my report, and left it to the Collegia to clean up whatever business it had left. I don't know if they've investigated Francisco's old place of residence, or looked over Avram's house in more detail, though it seems logical to."

Zoltan nods his head. "That may be wise. Necropolis has great power if this is her. Is best to know as much as we can, where we can before taking up arms."

"Agreed." The Rokuga uncoils, rising from the edge of the table. "Amaranth… or Necropolis, if this is the same entity… has a very long lead on us, time-wise. We must not delay. For all I know, it could have left the skyland by now. Do you know of any motives we can follow, to possibly catch up?"

"… But they also might be traps there. Is hard to predict Necropolis. She can act insane and do things that put her at risk for amusements and then seem to vanish and be impossible to find. Very little is written abouts her… I think source of most of whats I know was killed by her many many years ago," the Vartan adds, his voice softening. He considers the Mage's words, tapping his beak again, "How much you know about Rache? Usually the motives of the host, even in death, is part of what drives it. There is also a risk of her coming heres as well."

The mage shakes his head slightly. "You would be better served asking the merchants. All I know is that she was the daughter of a zolk merchant, and had a fiancee' named Ferdinand, who was also found dead."

Astaro hmms. "Rache was a good girl. Very loyal to her family, hard-working. Never would say a contrary word. Himaatians raise their daughters to be obedient. Haven't a spark of ambition in them, though."

Yosah says, "Reesh heev eyes for … Keetsunee. When Keetsunee was heero." He frowns again. "Poor Reesh!"

Makah interjects, "Ferdinand went an awful way, but let's say that nobody's shedding too many tears over his passing. He was a tough business Zerda … but he was overly tough in other ways, too." Makah frowns. "Avram didn't deserve one bit of what he got, though."

"What of Ferdinand's family? Any word on them?" Zoltan taps his head, "Or enemies of Francisco… The Avatar mights go after them."

Qing nods thoughtfully. "I know nothing of Ferdinand's family. However, I was advised on that by one of my assistants, who knew Francisco. She had been the object of his vengeance at one point, for being bribed into a prank against him. She added that another who'd understandably earned his ire was one Eustace do Varr."

"For a… flushing." Qing's nose wrinkles slightly with some distaste.

"Best to do a sweep of his residence for active magics and keep a watch there." Zoltan winces a little. "I could pay him a visits and bring you along. The Baron of Paradys would probably be welcomes in they home for dinner or somethings. Hrr… although I prefer zombies over poodles any day, titles have they uses."

Makah tries to stifle a snicker at the comment about poodles.

The witchdoctor's face goes neutral. "So be it. If you can arrange it so I needn't deal with him, so much the better."

Astaro says, "Ferdinand's family is not from the Himaat, I know that much, though they must have their roots there, being Zerdas. I am not sure where he hails from. He did not boast of his origins, liking to emphasize that he earned his own wealth rather than inheriting it."

"Do Varr will probablies want to meet my 'guests' before I lets them poke around his house. I no sure how to tell him that evil undead fox could be after him, although telling him may keep him from flushing any more foxes." Zoltan smirks and then turns to Astaro. "Earned how? He gots business somewheres?"

"I have no patience for the trivial," hisses Qing, his face creasing slightly into a frown. "I don't see why we shouldn't tell him exactly what is going on, rather than mincing around in nobility's ways."

"He has some sort of arrangement with some airships," says Astaro, looking faintly disgusted. "He deals in slightly damaged goods of various sorts."

Zoltan sighs, "Because he could react badly and make things more difficult, Master Qing. He could throw us out and try to rely on his guards alone, which could result in a dozen more deaths, or he could make such a fuss that everyone in Rephidim will know that Amaranth did no die that day and cause scare island-wide."

The Rokuga folds his arms, a slightly disgusted quirk to the corner of his mouth, but he doesn't contest the point.

"Back to Ferdinand." The Vartan's eyes wander back to a map of Sinai. "Did he have any… hrh… other girlfriends? Someone Amaranth might gets jealous of?"

Qing glances at the merchants expectantly.

Astaro and Makah look at each other and shrug. "Wouldn't put it past him," Makah comments. Astaro just gives an "I don't know" shrug.

"Ask around. The Bazaar always have good ears. Maybe check with he business to see if any ladies come by, wondering what happen to him. I hates to suggest such a thing, but it no surprise me if Necropolis looks for some excuse to kill someone. Is logic of a madman, but logic no the less." Zoltan waves a finger around and then looks back to Qing. "I can fly you wherever you wants to go, and I gots in my possession an artifact that lets me see magic and pick up its use, although I gots a natural talent for feeling it myself if it strong enough." He taps his head, "I also immune to lots of it. Considering that we dealing with someone powerful in Sphere of Mind it probably goings to be useful."

The Skeek looks surprised. "Cambee ees mageek? A Varteen? But Varteens heet mageek!"

Zoltan's ears flatten, "I am no magic, just able to resists if I wants to."

The Rokuga nods. "Good. I've been able to sense Amaranth when I've been close enough as well, in addition to any rituals being worked in the region. Do you happen to know if Necropolis is vulnerable to anything in particular?"

The Vartan's ears spring back up, "I know body of her avatar burn, but while it burn all she do is laugh. There also the black heart – but weakest point from what I know is she ego; insult her power, who she is, and what she is and she more prone to slip up. I also know that she try to make you scared. She seem to more wants to scare than kill. I not know the extent of she powers. She could be impossible to destroy; she could be easy. Is hard to tell."

"Ah. That should be worth bearing in mind, I suppose." Qing folds his arms behind his back, except for one of the top ones, which rubs his jaw. "Attacking the physical is seldom of use against that of the spirit, but provided we can corner the entity, I may be able to do something. The important thing now is finding it."

Zoltan nods. "I can do sweeps of the Old City and other hiding places. I know how to attack spirits with weapons, but never put training to use yets. If this creature is anything like one on Paradys, you will have to do some fightings. She had lots of monsters at her call."

The merchants all appear a bit shaken at this, to various degrees.

Qing shakes his head, holding out his upper pair of bony hands. "With clubs and swords, blood and bones… no. I am a man of knowledge, not war."

"Then we are lucky to be able to fights her on two fronts, Master Qing." The Vartan folds his arms across the tabletop. "I would rather keep this as bloodless as possible, but this is someone who tear the throats of her priests out with a smile on her face, and cause people to wound theyselves. She make me claw my own face once. Is best to prepare for anything. I no a man of war, but I know that sometimes there no other choice but to fights."

The Rokuga regards his hands for a few moments. "That's true. I'll have to use my own methods. If it comes to fist and blade, then I am defenseless."

The Vartan smiles just a bit. "We can protect each other, then. But for now… I think the do Varr estate is a good place to start." He points to the assembled merchants, "And you probably helps by asking around. If you insists on spending that money, use it to buy information."

The merchants nod.

Makah says, "We'll find out what we can! Avram will be avenged!"

"Agreed. Give me a day, and I will prepare spells before we go to the do Varr residence." The witchdoctor goes through his pockets, as if making a mental check of the components he has on hand.

"I have one request, Master Qing." Zoltan's head drops. "I know this insulting to you and I apologizes… but we probably should arrange for a better meeting place than my Shoppe. The last thing I needs is for this to scare my customers or my family. You know how Vartans can be, most not as tolerant as I am."

Makah says, "I shall volunteer my booth or my house, then!"

Astaro says, "My tent is easily found, and has more than enough space."

Qing dips his head slightly to look at Zoltan over the tops of his glasses for a moment, an eye-ridge raised. He raises it again, however. "Hmp. So be it. In my profession, I often encounter unfounded fear and superstition. I will probably spend most of my time at the Collegia anyway, but should we be required to meet elsewhere, Makah's or Astaro's places should suffice."

Zoltan grins, "It would be most appreciated. I would be willing to buy some scrimshaw for my table, or curtains and clothing for my house and children." He looks back at Qing. "Again, I apologize. So should I arrange for dinner at do Varr's tomorrow nights? I try to make it as less tedious as possibles."

"Yes. If you must, you may identify me as your… court magician, or what have you." The reptile sniffs disdainfully, but leaves it at that. "I shall be ready when you are. I'll advise the other mages at the Collegia of what we've discussed. Perhaps I can speak with Kassan. I know he'd prepared a scrying spell to find Francisco… Perhaps it can be applied to finding Rache."

Yosah is already standing, but he raises up just a bit, to extend a paw to Zoltan. "Yosah ees most greetful to Bareen Cambee for heelping Yosah!"

Makah stands. "Likewise. We all appreciate your help. Between you and Mage Qing here … I'd dare say we have a fighting chance." He manages a smirk, then picks up the lock-box and closes it. He pats the box. "If you change your mind, please let us know."

"I get to works then. I meet you at Astaro's tent tomorrow, we can maybe gets you some fancy clothes for the meeting as well, so do Varr no gets too suspicious." The Vartan tries really hard to suppress his grin. He looks down at the mouse and gingerly shakes the proffered hand, a tiny thing in his own… but handling children has granted him a delicate enough touch.

The mage looks slightly more rankled. "The uniform of a spirit mage is a time-honored vestment. If it's good enough for the Emperor, it's good enough for a witless, coddled socialite. … No matter, it can be discussed another time. I will see you tomorrow." With that, the mage nods at the assembled merchants, then a little more deeply at Zoltan, and slithers back through the door.