Completed Second Time Around

[Inoadar]

OOC - continued from here.

18th of Fall, 513

Inoadar wondered if there was ever going to be an incident he was involved in that didn't result in injuries. He hurt all over. His ankle was still not completely healed and got sore after any great amount of walking, cane or not. But did not compare to the shallow, off-angle crossbow wound he'd gotten stealing the ledger from his antagonists' hideaway at the cafe. Every breath stung to at least some degree.

That though, also was healing, thanks to the competent practitioners at The Healing Hand. The fact was, the tight bandaging around his torso had given unexpectedly significant protection from the jaws of the wolves that had attacked both himself and the Kelvic tiger girl, Ariella, just eight or ten days ago.

Still, those were the wounds now making every step hurt in one place or another. He stopped often as he made his way through the Merchants Ring. He was honestly thinking of getting some mail leggings to go along with the shirt he'd had since looting it from deserters on the west side of the lake several seasons ago.

He chuckled at the recollection that he had run into wolves on that outing as well. Did he ever NOT have trouble with those flea-bitten, over-sized rats when he left the safety of Ol' Rhysol's Ravok? He started to whistle the popular tune as he continued on his way to The Defiled Blade. He'd visited Maven's Threads already, knowing they sometimes had surprising items turn up for very affordable prices. But, no mail leggings this day, so it was off to the pros at The Blade.

He was trying to think of what price he should expect and whether he wanted cloth or leather lining or padding, but he found some noise breaking his concentration. There was a girl crying in protest of some sort of treatment. He looked that way and caught a glimpse of a trio of men quite literally "manhandling" a young lady, dragging her very much against her will away from public scrutiny.

Something struck him about one of the men...what was it?...He heard the fellow mutter something in gutteral common and realized he knew the man. It was Sten, the partner of Harky, the two slavers that had accosted one of his charges that he was spiriting out of town for two hundred mizas. This had also been several seasons ago. He didn't see Harky, and it was a cinch Sten was NOT the brains of this operation either.

This did, however, let him know this was a slave collecting operation, something he felt no inclination to interfere with. There was a quick stab of regret over the fate of Burke, his old assistant. He'd been arrested by the Black Sun on trumped-up charges of treason, so they could install their man, Marcus, to keep an eye on Inoadar himself.

Ultimately that had worked out well as Inoadar had come around to acknowledging Rhysol as his god of choice. But he'd occasionally felt bad for Burke. Marcus had said he could have him back after their little fracas had resolved itself. Inoadar had not, thus far, taken him up on it. He really wasn't even that sure how you went about tracking down a particular prisoner in custody of the slavers. Nor was he sure he wanted a man he thought might be broken in body and spirit back anyway.

His curiosity got the better of him and he wove around to get a glimpse of who the poor unfortunate was that they were dragging away now. When he saw who it was, his jaw dropped in a burst of yet more reminiscence. It was the Kelvic tiger girl, Ariella! She was no longer in the clothes he'd left for her when they'd fought wolves, but it was definitely her.

He wondered why she didn't morph into tiger form and fight back. Could it be she didn't want to ruin her new clothes? He dismissed that as ridiculous. They were nothing fancy, a grey skirt, and white shirt, or "top", or whatever women called their clothes. Same with the black "vest", or whatever women called them. Maybe her wounds were still tender as well. He'd spent the better part of a full dose of Pillowsap treating her wounds as she slept.

After all that fighting together, and his doctoring of her wounds, and giving her his extra clothes, seeing her come into his town now made him kind of pull for her. He wasn't going to let slavers get this one too.

[Ariella Rainecourt]

While wandering through the Merchant’s Ring, Ariella couldn’t help but get the feeling she was being watched. It sent a chill down her spine and quickened her pace. There was something unfriendly there with her, she could sense it. Her instincts told her to run, but those were feline intuitions unfit for her two-legged, battered body. Scabs had formed over the parts of her previously torn by the wolves. The agony of the earlier stages of the healing process had left her with a distorted sense of time. It felt like years since she had been able to hunt. It hurt her pride to be half-limping like some incapacitated runt. When she felt the slaver’s arm hook her waist, she desperately tried to pry him off, but it was no use. Two others took up his flanks and grabbed her upper arms.

The girl was throwing all her weight forward, but her feet kept skidding back out from under her as she worked fruitlessly to wriggle free. The largest of them had his arm tight around her waist, and he appeared undeterred by her attempts. The extra pressure on the still-healing wounds that cut across her right side and limbs made her scream with pain. “Stop it! Help! Let me go!” she hollered intensely, fighting with all the strength she could muster to get away. One of the slavers released her arm in exchange for her neck, which he used to hold her still enough to cover her mouth and muffle her cries. It wasn’t fair, not in her human form, but evening the odds would meaning ruining yet another dress. After all, it had only been nine days since she bought it. Being it a matter of freedom and slavery, however, she resolved to shift. She did make the small compromise, however, of unlacing her bodice first with her one free hand.

The injuries from the wolves affected her less in her stronger form, and the instinctual ferocity of her tiger body made adrenaline course through her veins and her lips curl upward. Immediately, the morale of the men was broken as a being far larger and heavier replaced the frail figure that struggled there before. The skirt and blouse that had adorned the woman lay tattered on the ground, but the bodice was saved, at least. The thug creature that had been pulling at her arm was shocked to feel the thick, soft fur of a massive foreleg fall from his grip. The three brute slavers stood back in awe as Ariella made a sharp turn to face them and emitted a rumbling growl that erupted in a ground-shaking roar, one that sent birds fleeing from their trees and little ground animals scurrying for safety.

[Inoadar]

'Damn it!' Inoadar cursed to himself. 'She's done it now. She's revealed herself. Doesn't she know that Kelvics get enslaved here?' It occurred to him an instant later that she'd had no way to know. He had meant to mention it, but had left her asleep those many days before to be sure he caught the ferry back to town.

He felt sure he could get her free and get a few steps on them. But a white tiger was not something he was going to be able to slip into some obscure cover with nothing more than a few steps advantage. If he could get a block ahead of them, he could possibly pull something off. No an entirely different approach was in order.

He stepped boldly into the fracas. "There you are, you damned stupid cat!" he sneered, stepping between Ariella and the three slavers. "You lay a claw on these men and I'll feed you nothing but stale bread for the rest of the petching season!"

He took advantage of the stunned pause to sweep up the torn clothes, gripping them impatiently with his hands on his hips as he continued his charade. "Change back this instant, you worm-riddled runt. I buy you new clothes and THIS is how you thank me?" He pulled off his cloak and dropped it on the ground in front of her. "Wrap yourself in this then, you ungrateful shyke, and get back to the shop." He pointed to his left, which was not the direction of Ino Vations, but it would serve for now.

He didn't wait to see if Ariella left or stayed. He turned back with an embarrassed look. "I'm terribly sorry about th-..what the?...Sten? is that you?" He clapped his hands together in front of him and walked forward like they were old friends. "Finally shed that guy...uh...what was his name?" He snapped his fingers a couple of times, waiting for Sten to join his distracting change of subject.

The big man looked confused for a moment, then lit up. "Whah...choo talking 'bout Harky?" he suddenly scowled, "Yeah, I shed da petcher. I weren't none too taken wif 'im no more after he petchin' near let choo kill me." his pose did not indicate much forgiveness as he stepped forward threateningly. "Yeah, I 'member you, ya petchin' bastard."

Inoadar cocked his head slightly, his eyes narrowing. "Oh, so we're gonna take these things all personally, are we?" he gave no indication that he cared about the two other men moving into opposite sides of him. "I told you what the deal was. I had a job to do, and you and that slippery punk, Harky, interfered. And now you're doing it again."

"He ain't doin' nuthin' but what I tell him too, slim." the guy on Inoadar's left spoke up. He had the wit to stay out of range of any sudden attacks Inoadar might make, whereas Sten's groin was a heartbeat away from being flattened by his knee.

Inoadar kept his stare on Sten. "Then tell him to back his ugly ass up before I feed him your lungs."

[Ariella Rainecourt]

The tigress’ ears flicked towards the familiar voice, and almost immediately her snarl cut short as she was overcome with joy to see the human. Ariella knew her part in the scene, but lacked the self-control to slink back and pretend to be scared by his threats of stale bread. The phrase “worm-riddled runt” particularly stood out to her, however, and only then did she drop her head and shy away slightly.

Though she knew it was all part of the act, she couldn’t help but be hurt by his words as she had always held the opinions of humans in high esteem out of her respect for them. When she stepped forward to rub up against his legs in her own sort of apology, she realized he had already turned away. Instead, she picked up the cloak as gently as she could in her mouth and sauntered a little ways away, where she intended to shift.

The feline stopped when she sensed a heightening in the tension of the situation. Nolan’s plan to save her was beginning to show its holes. He had jumped in without any other backup, and there was no way he had any papers for her, or whatever it was humans used to verify each other’s claims.

On her further thoughts about the nature of human society, she thought it would probably not go over well with the city’s authorities if she decided to snack on the slavers. Besides, they surely wouldn’t go down without a good fight, and one of them would be bound to hurt Nolan or another innocent person. On her very last note, she remembered that even the slavers were human, and thus she could not kill them without hating herself for it. This had to end with all of them alive, and the best way to do that would be to go along with whatever it was Nolan was doing.

The white-haired, pale woman rose as she wrapped the cloak under her arms and around her middle. Both hands held it tightly together at the center of her chest. Already she regretted shifting and longed for her fangs back, but there was just no plausible way, she figured, to go back. The commitment to the plan had already been made. It had to be worth a shot. Glancing in the direction that Nolan had gestured in, she took a few slow steps away with no intention of actually leaving. She had already left him vulnerable once, she wasn’t going to do it again.

[Inoadar]

"Bold talk for man outnumbered three to one." piped in the man on Inoadar's right. "Who were you planning to feed your own lungs too?" This man's voice was completely calm, and Inoadar found it necessary to reassess his priorities. The trick was to disable the most dangerous one first. Then, since the remaining two would be reacting, you'd have to go for the weakest foe, to have any chance of taking another one out quickly. Best to do it in a way that also kept distance between you and the last one. But Inoadar was no longer sure which was the most dangerous one.

The one on his left appeared to be the leader, with Sten as the dumb muscle. But this one on the left had the unsettlingly casual tone of a man that sees the impending violence as "just another day's routine". He may not be the most gifted fighter, or the strongest or fastest. But he spoke as one who'd seen it all, and that presented a threat like no other, both in the fact of his resistance to being bluffed or feinted, and in the fact that he was obviously a survivor.

But inspiration struck in the form of a memory, as Sten filled the tense little semi-circle with his gruff laughter. The memory of that same cursing laugh, just prior to Inoadar popping a dart in his neck to turn him into a weakened hostage to employ against his then-partner, Harky. He'd found a name on a scrap of paper in the big man's pocket. A name Inoadar had connected to their references to "The Boys", the man, or men, in charge of this branch of the local slaver crews. He turned his head to the man on his right, "Well, Leo said I don't need to worry about that." The tension took on a whole new demeanor as their eyes flashed back and forth. Even the calm man was having a trouble keeping the 'clenched-jaw' look from his face.

The leader, on Inoadar's left sneered, "How do we know you really know him? Maybe it's just a name you heard in a bar, from some guy with too big a mouth." There were grunts of assent from the other two, but Inoadar could sense the deficiency of confidence therein.

He turned now, directly facing the assumed leader of the trio, "You mean a mouth like yours?" The man's eyes flashed, but the tension was in the effort he made NOT to attack. "And I never said I know him. I did a job for him last Spring, through a third-party. One that I'm not giving flunkies like you slobs any details about." He turned to Sten, "You were there, numb-nuts. Didn't you report back to him?"

Now Inoadar felt on the attack. Aggression surged in his veins. "We interfered with each other then, didn't we, shyke-sack!" He took a bold step toward Sten, who retreated a step. "And no one was sent to 'straighten me out' for it. So maybe you guys should just accept that he and I have an 'understanding' and not push it."

"Maybe so..." the casual man started. Inoadar felt the first shoe drop. "But then again, this time the interference ain't mutual. It's just you interfering with us." Inoadar turned to face him. It was like looking in a mirror, the expression of combined aggression and serenity, the assurance of eventual triumph, regardless of the level of adversity. The other shoe was hanging by a string...

"Maybe I like to push it..." the man sneered. Inoadar knew which one he was going to have to disable first. He shook his head as if exasperated and turned slightly towards Sten as if he was going to ask him to talk some sense into his partner, then spun to launch a kick at the 'casual' man's knee. But even as he began leaning into the inertia of his movement, an arm came around his neck from behind.

Change of plans! The man behind him would be the one he'd disable first. Instead of resisting the tug, he shoved into it, steering his momentum at just a bit at an angle to backpedal past the man as he turned into him, dropping his head level with the man's midsection and suddenly lurching forward to bull rush the man off his feet. He deliberately tangled his feet with his victim. He wanted them both to go down, the enemy beneath him. Inoadar tucked his knees to land with all his weight on he man's ribcage. He bounced past the gasping man, accompanied by the dull pop of a cracked rib or two, catching his momentum and spinning back to yank the man's knife from his hip sheath.

His intent was to put the blade at the apparent group leader's throat and demand compliance for the other two. The futility of this hope was made evident by the boot colliding with his shoulder as the 'casual' man leaped over his fallen associate. Screams and pain erupted as one as Inoadar tried to roll with the impact. But the many recent injuries he'd suffered cramped his efforts as Sten fell across his partner to hold Inoadar's legs.

Inoadar was going to slash the big man's wrists with the knife, but a familiar boot stomped the knife-wielding wrist into the walkway. The 'casual' man ground his boot into Inoadar's wrist as the knife spilled from his nerveless hand. The man made the mistake of kicking the knife away at the same time that the man beneath Sten lurched to get the big man off him.

Inoadar reached up to grab Sten's hair and pull him close enough to jab a finger in his eye. The big man screamed and fell to the side as the man beneath him rolled away groaning. Inoadar was expecting the 'casual' man to attack, but his attention was diverted by a feral snarl and a streak of white.

[Ariella Rainecourt]

The Kelvic girl was staring down the emptiness of one of Ravok’s alleys when she heard the brawl begin. Immediately she spun and took her first running step towards Nolan. As she did, she let go of the cloak, which slipped down pale skin that became gleaming striped fur. Waves of snow white hair and feminine, human features became indistinguishable, then were lost and replaced by the bulk of a fully grown tigress.

Her slit blue eyes were the only entirely preserved feature. Though Ariella had lived in her tiger form for much of her life, she still found it rather impetuous. The ferocity that drove it was purely wild, unlike her human body, which was somewhat accustomed to the notion of civility. Instincts, not rationality, ruled the animal part of her.

When her paws met the ground for a second step, she tucked her hind legs close under her to propel her weight forward in a fantastic leap that soared clear over Nolan and the two lackeys. The leader of the group who had so dared to crush her new human friend’s wrist was taken down swiftly and surely by the big cat, which upon catching its prey resumed to tear it’s flesh without a second thought.

It wasn’t how she had planned the advance, but it was how it had happened. The tigress had intended to simply pin him down and use him as leverage against the other two, but somewhere along the way the man lost his logical value and became food. The meaning of the situation was gone in the wind at breakneck speed; he didn’t even have time to struggle. His dying cries were short and pitiful.

Such was the consequences of her lack of recent hunting. It was only after she had savored and swallowed a mouthful of the slaver’s neck that Ariella came to the realization of what she had done. In front of a crowd of bewildered onlookers, she had just mauled and partially eaten one of their kind, a human, the race which she was created to serve and protect.

With fresh, bright red blood dripping from her fangs, she leapt off the slaver’s dead body and turned to face Nolan, as if looking for an answer or some sort of instruction. Seeing him snapped her back into control as her gaze then shifted between the other two, taking on new aggression and dominance.

Still, however, she could not stem the flow of endless, vicious energy that released itself in bursts of frenzied movements. She ran a half circle back behind her kill then lurched forward until her hot breath spilled down the face of the lackey that had fallen first. Before he could get out his knife, Ariella was behind him. The pathetic poker fell from his shaken hands as the feline’s snarl suddenly erupted into a regal roar, which eventually settled again into a low rumble.

Sten was then in the unfortunate position of being between herself and Nolan. Given what she had made of his boss just moments ago, however, the feline figured that he would probably choose to avoid a similar encounter and move away quickly.

Go now, and pray that I never see you again. She growled at Sten, her focus hungry and intense.

[Inoadar]

Screams erupted from every direction. The more distant ones raised in mere alarm, the nearest ones in pain and horrified surprise. Blood splattered across his face as the deep rumble of the big cat's growl rose to feral glory and receded again to allow the pleading whines of the slaver crew to be heard.

All of Inoadar's recent injuries seemed to join forces to overwhelm him. He swooned and tried to catch his dizziness with the hand the one slaver had ground into the stone beneath him. The added pain surged up his arm in a wave of brain-numbing shock. He nearly lost consciousness and fell back to his side.

Sten was kicking his feet in a panic, trying to propel himself away from the beast and Inoadar. As he tried to turn himself from the path, one of his booted feet slammed Inoadar in the side of his head. Humming darkness replaced the chaos of the confrontation and the next thing Inoadar knew, he was awakening to the sound of armored boots, swiftly approaching.

He knew that sound well enough and tried to shake off his disorientation. He could hear Ariella roaring defiance, but there were now voices speaking in angry confidence of her imminent demise. He heard the swish of nets being thrown and knew it would soon be over for her.

There were cries of "Grab Her" and "Hold That Net" and several threats and insults of a very personal vein. But the worst was the call to "Make way for the mage!" Visions of Clyde Sullins' face swam in his concussed vertigo. He needed this girl, needed her blood, needed this research. And now, once again, a mage was stepping in to ruin everything, the way Clyde had showed up and brought his development of the Dark Reaving antidote to a halt.

The two incidents became one in his mind as he struggled. 'No! Not Again! Not THIS time!' He didn't know if he was speaking aloud as he swayed on his knees, a pair of Ebonstryfe soldiers, holding the extended handles of some sort of restraining weapon, glanced at him as though he was not an immediate concern.

"Let her GO!" he shouted, the words slurred, the pain of the mental pressure nearly triggering shock. "She was only protecting me!" the soldiers payed no attention, his voice lost in the din of the jeering crowd. Inoadar could envision similar pairs of soldiers on the other sides of Ariella, holding her in place as the mage prepared to incinerate her on the spot.

Fury burned away the fog and he grabbed the pole handles on the "Man-Catchers". He wrenched them down with his sudden weight, causing the two soldiers to stumble forward, off balance. Inoadar caught the sight of a robe to his left and literally threw himself backward in that direction, still clutching the pole handle of one of the weapons. It broke free of the soldier's grip and Inoadar threw it with his last possible effort towards the robed man.

He missed, but the distraction disrupted the mage's concentration, and whatever he was about to do fizzled as people cried out in alarm and confusion. "Gods' Teeth! You Petching Bastards, I said she was Defending me! Let her Go!"

But he knew he needed more than that. That alone wouldn't be good enough. Ravok couldn't have wild Kelvics attacking people and being able to get off by claiming they were defending this person or that. He thought of calling her his bodyguard, but that wouldn't work. A bodyguard would be a professional, and a professional would know better than to attack a trio of citizens.

No, there was only one thing that would account for both her determination AND her ignorance of the law. Inoadar saw the mage beginning to recast as he drew a deep enough breath to outshout the mob. "SHE'S MY SLAVE!"

[Ariella Rainecourt]

Ariella understood what the humans were trying to do, and why they needed to do so. It was true, she had lost control and she was more than likely to do so again in the future. Her death would bring safety to the city and its people, a security that was more than worth the life of some reckless girl. Still she fought, however, and scraped up shreds of hope that she might somehow survive. An eternity of nothing terrified her, and she longed for redemption.

Before her parents left, they had told her what a failure of a Kelvic she would turn out to be. Their bondmates had been the only reason for them staying, and once they were gone, Ariella simply wasn’t enough. Detached, they scorned and abandoned her. Ever since then, the tigress had been trying relentlessly to prove to herself that they had been wrong. Looking at the dead slaver and the pool of blood that surrounded him, she knew they were right; failure ran in the family.

How could she deny it, when Nolan bore the wounds of not one, but two encounters in which she had been involved and unable to adequately protect him. The big cat emitted a painful, low groan that sounded like a sob. The nets were more efficient than she originally thought. With her legs tangled in its ropes, she found herself unable to lunge at or bite any of the soldiers. The way in which they handled the nets and the “Man-Catchers” prevented her from throwing her weight or pulling too much in one direction, which would have been her escape.

Nolan, help! She cried, but the sounds of her snarls and defeated groans were nearly drowned out by the fuss going on around her. The screams of children were especially heartbreaking, as she hated being a beast in their eyes particularly. It wasn’t long before the crowd parted to create a path wherein a man draped in excessive amounts of cloth walked. His grim demeanor disturbed her, and she couldn’t decide what he was there for until he began to compose himself in preparation for a spell. It was body language that Ariella had seen before; but never directed at her.

So this is how I will die. The thought was not accompanied by any show of defiance. Rather, the tigress let out a wrenching cry and retreated backwards in the net, fearful of what was to come. Then, one of the corners of the net fell loose. It was so unexpected that she froze in confusion until she caught her first sight of Nolan since the initial attack, hurling the pole that once held the front half of the net in place at the robed man. The mage was old and startled by the toss. The pole clanked to the ground, and she was free.

Her first thought was to dash out of the net and away from Ravok as fast as she could. Now that she was well enough to hunt, she could return to the wilds and take care of herself. Leaving Nolan was not a possibility though, not after everything he had done and was still doing for her. This was one problem she just couldn’t run from; if she did it would only be further evidence of her incompetency. With one foreleg outstretched and the other curled under, she flicked her tail and swept an elegant feline bow to the mage as Nolan declared her his slave. Ariella had never met another Kelvic that was enslaved, and assumed if she simply acted subservient she might pass for one. It was her best guess, and only hope.

[Inoadar]

In his near stupor, Inoadar expected to hear the sound of some conflagration of incinerating magic, and Ariella's screaming roar of pain and terror. Or the jeering of the slavers if she was able to convey an attitude of surrender sufficient to preempt the mage's work. He repeated his words in a dazed blather, unaware of whether he could be heard or not. "She's my slave, don't hurt her, she was only defending me..." over and over.

Orders were given by a voice that did not express the suggestion that there could ever be anything less than immediate obedience. There were some hesitant answers, 'Probably from the slavers' Inoadar thought. There was a single burst of outrage over someone's death, which was answered by an unsympathetic demand for silence and a promise to 'get to the bottom of this'.

He was lifted to his feet and after a few tries, managed to get his balance and orientation. The squad commander began barking questions at him, and at first he'd forgotten what he'd said. The word "slave" broke through the fog, the commander saying it several times and spinning him around to tip his head down to face...

"Ariella..." Inoadar muttered, "...are you..." he staggered back a step and felt armored limbs secure him from falling. His head rocked sideways, he thought he was turning around, but at least the commander appeared to understand that Inoadar was talking to him. "Is she okay?"

"You are claiming this Kelvic is your slave?" the man said. There was something in the voice that finally sharpened Inoadar's wits. The sound of a question being asked that was intended to entrap the target. Inoadar felt reasonably sure that he could claim disorientation if he said the wrong thing.

"Yes...Ariella...my slave...tiger...she works for me...bodyguard." he babbled, gratified to hear a few "aaahs" from onlooking citizens, clearly it fit the scenario as he had hoped. He doubled over moaning and holding his head. He started to drop to his knees, but the same arms held him up.

"Explain to me, then, her lack of a brand, sir...what is your name? Do you have registry papers?" More hands seized him and extended his arms while another soldier affected a quick search and withdrew his wallet. The commander took it and opened it, there was the barest hint of raised eyebrows and he motioned to his subordinates to bring the dazed man with him. He made a gesture and the soldiers started shouting at the crowd to disperse and go about their business.

He spun on an armored heel and whipped an unfriendly finger in Ariella's direction. "You stay there! Your..."master"...is in no danger if his story checks out." He snapped a finger and made a swiping motion and two of the soldiers crossed the pole handles of their Mancatchers in front of the remaining two slavers, whose protests clearly wanted to be louder, but did not dare.

The commander railed at him for a few chimes, citing the lack of a collar and brand, and clearly outlining the dire consequences of 'bringing an untamed Kelvic, a tiger, yet, into the city, where slavers are sanctioned with the perpetual duty of subduing and arresting these very creatures.'

Inoadar scrambled for an answer, but he was saved, by, of all people, the commander himself, who then asked him in a quiet voice, "Nolan Parnell? You are the same Nolan Parnell that offered to be the bait in the trap set to catch Ervis Revine, the Rising Dawn mage?"

Inoadar was thinking clearly enough to look conflicted, presenting a face of wanting to confirm this truth, but knowing he is not to speak of it. His look must have been effective though, because the commander took a deep breath, nodding, and went on. "My brother was on that detail, and he saw what happened. I'm satisfied, but the ordinance regarding uncollared Kelvics is not. Is there some reason you can give me why she is not properly restrained? Something to satisfy my superiors?"

As always, the half truth was the answer. He explained the attack by wolves, days before, upon he and Ariella. (The truth.) He "offered" that the brand, looking back, must have been defaced by the lacerations Ariella had received during the fight. (Could be the truth.) He had taken the collar off for her relaxation and must have forgotten it in the chaos. (an outright lie, but impossible to verify.)

He lowered his face, as with, embarrassment and guilt, and acknowledged that he should have had the collar replaced, but had been very busy at the shop. The commander made one more point that the location where the brand would be was clear, regardless of lacerations, and requested that Mr. Parnell explain that. Inoadar got the sense that this was just for appearances' sake.

Inspiration saved him. He leaned in close and confided that his answer for this was equally classified as the "mage trap" was. The commander moved away from his subordinates, motioning Inoadar to follow. He then made a wrist spin to show him to explain. Inoadar gave an account of a job he'd been given to "investigate" rumors of an attempted breakout at the Kelvic Research Institute. It was mostly true, but had simply been an odd job he'd acquired at The Spot. It had actually been intended as a set-up by the very people attempting the breakout, and it was only his suspicion and resourcefulness that allowed him to upset the plans, rather than being the fall guy.

He didn't word it that way, instead suggesting that detailed information given him by the Black Sun resulted in him having what he needed to do his duty effectively. He was able to drop the names of those involved, a former assistant researcher named Harvek, the Kelvic girl, Cawleena, as well as the name of the duped doctor, Gaius Alzelin. He also confirmed the boxful of falsified records to facilitate the confusion necessary for the perpetrators to pull it off.

The commander was impressed, and was entirely willing to believe that "Mr. Parnell" had been awarded, under the table, his pick of Kelvics as payment for his services. This, combined with his "bait" duty in the attempt on Ervis Revine, nearly brought the commander to salute him. Instead, however, he handed Inoadar a document to present to the Vitrax upon confirmation of the tiger, "Ariella", being branded and collared. If this was done within ten days, there would be no charges filed against either of them.

Inoadar returned to the slavers, who were now glaring in frustration, and apologized for the mix-up, giving a condescending remark about the dangers of their job, and how it was the reason for the high esteem in which he held them. He winked with a sneer and called to Ariella, "Let's go, we've got work to do."

[Ariella Rainecourt]

Through the various pairs of legs, armored, robed and not, she attempted to get a good view of Nolan. Sten’s kick had done some damage, apparently, and the soldiers were struggling to bring him back to full consciousness. The big cat moaned and groaned anxiously beneath the net, which limited her movement and ability to see her human friend. He seemed to be coming around, though, so she wasn’t terribly worried about that. The soldiers were her new concern. One of them turned to address her in a harsh, demanding tone that took her aback slightly. Resolving to listen, however, she stood in a ready stance and glared at the commander’s every move.

Ariella tried to stay quiet while her only ally did his best to secure her survival. During the discussions, the front portion of the net was re-manned with a pair of soldiers. The tigress could see each of the men stealing glimpses of her whenever they thought she wasn’t looking, and though she wished it was for her beauty, she knew it was out of fear instead. The fur around her mouth and claws was still red with blood, and the taste was still fresh. She couldn’t help but lick her lips of it.

Most of what was being said she zoned out of, knowing she couldn’t contribute to the conversation anyway. However, she did listen closely to Nolan and the commander as they spoke. With her improved hearing, she was able to pick up a sufficient amount to learn that Kelvic slaves were supposed to have collars and brands, of which she had neither. The situation was a precarious one. In response the feline plopped down on her rear and cocked her head, deep in thought. Surely, though, her clever human friend would be able to think of something.

While waiting for his efforts to conclude, she began to relax, seeing no immediate danger in the conduct of any of the soldiers, including the commander. Nolan was released and so was she, and with a result like that she couldn’t argue with any of the necessary conditions. When her friend called on her to come it was a welcome request. The two men at the front parted, giving Ariella enough space to slip out from under the net. Her tail and ears perked happily as she loped to Nolan’s side and slowed to a slinking walk as she approached him. Feline eyes glanced up to meet his as a massive side of thick fur rubbed up against the length of his legs. Thank you, Nolan. She purred, the sound loud and deep.