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On the seventh day, it is once again time for Justice Khane to follow in Alysa's footsteps wherever she walks. From the workers in the kitchen, Alysa had learned the woman's first name is Kazandra. They also informed her that she is a justice who relishes giving penance to the extent that she had lost her rank and been reduced once more to a priest whose task it is to comfort the faithful and convert the wayward. As yet, she has not bothered to do either to Alysa, simply remaining silent and watchful, speaking only in one word commands or answers.

Everything about the inside of the shrine is orderly, neat and clean. And utterly dull. Alysa can only imagine how dull it must to carry out the same duties in the same place and follow the same routine day after day.

Alysa notices that as more and more time passes here she becomes less and less convinced that her plan will work and that it will be the best to gain her revenge. Certainly she knows that there are other things she can do to put herself on the path that will lead her to her inevitable final encounter with Mira but can she abide the boring and endless routines and rules of the lawgivers once more only to have to surrender her quarry to them?

Once again she finds herself out in the sun, perhaps hoping that the peace she's found in the shrine's gardens will help her make her final decision, though she knows she has six days until she will see Moldon again she feels it will be best to be prepared.

With each passing day Alysa's strength grows, the exhaustion that plagued her for so long seems chased away in small amounts over the days, with her body slowly becoming the one she remembers. However, it is unclear to her, at least at this time if she will recover the catlike reflexes and remarkable dexterity she had, or it seems that she still moves too slowly, at least for her liking and still tires easily.

What good could she possibly be in this condition? If she wishes to fight, even on the side of the lawgivers the blonde bandit has much work left to do. Though she understands how close she came to death, she is unhappy with her progress, thinking that one as young and resilient as herself should be back to full health by now. Her physical recovery is progressing well but it is her mind that will be the true test of whether she will ever heal.

By the end of the first week. Alysa should have completely recovered, at least physically. The restorative nature of this place works actual wonders and there is not even any marks upon her skin to indicate where she had suffered indignities at the hands, and claws, of her hosts at Redclyffe.

As for her mental status, there is only so much the justices and their clerics may do for her. Moldon, whose first name she shall learn, with some amusement, is Oldam, is an ardent listener but the other justices seem more preoccupied with ensuring she does not intend to escape rather than actually attempting to engage her in conversation. None who dwell within the shrine have had even similar experiences to those of Alysa. The worst they have known are occasional outbreaks of aqualung, a waterborne diseases that causes feathery growths inside the chest of the afflicted. It can be life threatening but is cured easily enough and only in the most remote of communities are there fatalities.

Even so, the pentinents in the kitchens and the cantors in the library are both eager to hear more of her tale. Such horrors are the stuff of legends and there are those who are so young that they believe the stories of the Horogoth to be rather embellished accounts of raiders from the Frightlands. It simply seems to unreal in this realm of harmonious order.

There is also the small matter of need for Alysa She does not have any coin, any belongings aside from the smock and robes they give her to wear, a new set daily while the others are washed, and were she to set out on the streets of Ganelon tomorrow, she would have to begin rebuilding her fortunes from almost nothing.

Then, on the seventh day, Alysa has a visitor.

He is standing against the wall of the narthex, the large staircase that leads up to the entrance of the shrine. There are no less than four sets of stairs, each with a dozen steps and the high arched overhang resounds with the voices of all those gathered there. There are sentinels stationed at the bottom of the stairs, to either side of the broad iron gates, but they stare resolutely ahead, only moving when their duties or discomfort demand it.

Alysa recognizes the stranger at once as the last face she saw at Redclyffe; that of her rescuer. He is dressed in much the same way as before, with the tight leather waistcoat that mostly conceals the chain mail shirt he wears between his vest and his loose fitted white shirt.

As before, his goggles are perched on his forehead next to his greasy spiky hair and he is puffing on a pipe while looking about at the throngs of others gathered there, most of them in small informal bands of people talking to one another.

He smiles as he notices Alysa, gazing past her to Justice Khane, who folds her arms and stands at the top of the stairs, arms folded.

Alysa cannot help but smile when she sees the man standing there, after all if it were not for him she would surely have died. She takes a cautious step towards him before she speaks. She hadn't gotten a good look at him at Redclyffe before she fell into unconsciousness and now she must admit there were worse people who could have come to her aid. From what I hear I owe you my life sir", she says leaning against the wall opposite him.Her fingers are toying with the loose end of the braid that still holds her hair and to anyone who knew her it was a fair indication she was nervous. She looks at Khane for a moment before she speaks again, remembering the manners that people had at least tried to teach her over the years, " but I fear we have not been properly introduced, Alysa Damora at your service".

Narrowing his eyes slightly,he nods, looking up at Alysa through a haze of smoke as she descends the steps towards him and leans against the rail as the opposite wall of the narthex is more than a few yards away.

He waves cheerfully at Justice Khane, who deepens her scowl and taps her fingers against the crook of her arm.

'I suppose you do at that,' the man says simply, 'but don't go pledging your service to me until you know what it is I do.'

Holding his pipe with one hand, he offers the other gloved appendage to Alysa. 'Robur Brawne, captain of the Othello. Not at your service but at your leisure.'

He winks at Alysa. 'I'd given cause to wonder how you might be getting along. The healers here thought you might not make it at all. You had lost a lot of blood and they mentioned something about being drained.' His smirking lips twitch. 'I might know more about what they mean than they do.

Alysa almost laughs as she realizes that Khane is not fond of this man and that on its own is a reason to want to know more about him. Unlike the last time she encountered someone curious she pays close attention to her instincts as she accepts his offered hand and shakes it. She can't help but wonder what exactly he knows about her ordeal. "Of course, well as you can see I'm much better, but I must ask how you know more about what happened to me than the healers here".

She looks him over curiously and realizing that her instinct is not to run she relaxes a little, surely if this man was some danger to her he would not have made it this far. "After all, we both know that what happened is not exactly common".

'I wish I could tell you but this isn't the place for that kind of conversation,' Captain Brawne replies, nodding in the direction of Justice Khane. 'You would think they'd be interested but they'd rather come up with their own explanations and dismiss everything else as fairy tales.' He puffs on his pipe before pulling it out of his mouth and pointing at Alysa with the stem.

'And I don't means myths. I mean tales actually told by fairies. They love their stories in Mystakara.'

Mystykara, as Alysa knows, is an isolated region in the northeast corner of Airethe that is said to be the territory of the mystical folk who live in harmony with nature and can even wield the powers of the elements against those that dare invade their lands. As it stands, there is an ancient treaty with these folk and, occasionally, Alysa has seen one or two small, slender folk that others shall claim are 'touched by the fair folk.' While known and accepted to exist, Mystykara is considered exotic, chaotic and even dangerous by most denizens of Angalon and the people believed to be eccentric or savage.

The only overland routes go through the Altus Mountains, along the Valley of the Lost near Skydancer Peak. The valley is so named as it is claimed that the fair folk have placed powerful enchantments there to befuddle and confuse those who arrive uninvited.

Otherwise, Mystykara is accessible by sea by traders who follow the northern currents and travel all the way around Airethe or by air. Both of these are not without peril, however, as the fair folk of Mystakara are said to have complete mastery of the winds and waters, It was they who first engaged the Horogoth, their bravery and victories prompting the people of Angalon to likewise rebel.

"You've been to Mystakara?" Alysa almost gasps in disbelief, her hand dropping away from her braid for a moment with the sheer shock of it, "and back again? But I am afraid that if you were hoping for a more appropriate place to discuss matters, you are going to be disappointed, they keep a rather close eye on me around here at the moment and to be honest I don't blame them, I am far from the innocent creature I seem Captain Brawne, so unless you can arrange something with them I am afraid that we will both be forced to make due with what we have".

Alysa can only imagine Mystakara from the stories that are told, to be confronted with a man who claims to actually have been there and returned without going mad seems well....mad! Her wanderlust flares to life inside her mind as she wonders if his words are true.

Brawne's eyes twinkle with the glow of the embers in his pipe. 'I've been all over Airethe, Miss Damora. I told you, I'm a captain.' He glances over at Khane once more. 'So it seems but, if you'll beg my pardon, I know the look of an innocent lady. They have the soft light in their eyes like a deer caught in a hunter's crosshairs. Even if you were as pure as driven snow before whatever happened to you in that place, and, again, I'll beg your pardon, my lady, you certainly wouldn't be now.

Chewing on his pipe stem thoughtfully, Brawne nods. 'I'll talk to people I know. See if I can't make some arrangements. Oh, but I should be up front about what I'm after.' He reaches into one of his many belt satchels and removes a weathered roll of parchment. With a curt gesture of his head to Justice Khane, he offers the scroll to Alysa.

On it is an ink rendering of a very familiar face; that of Mira Armonde, Emblazoned above her picture is the legend: MISSING while underneath it, the words read MIRA MARLOWE, BELOVED DAUGHTER OF MALKOM MARLOWE. INFORMATION SOUGHT ON HER WHEREABOUTS. 5000 CROWNS FOR HER SAFE RETURN.

'Now, Master Marlowe died, still looking for his daughter,' Brawne says as Alysa reads the poster. 'She's been missing for nearly fifteen years now and is considered by the solicitor of her father's estate as deceased. But you and I know that's only half true, don't we?'

"No offense taken, I assure you", she says as she takes the scroll from his hand. Almost instantly Alysa's eyes light up with that familiar murderous glint as she unrolls the scroll, it seems this man and herself are after the same person, but perhaps for very different reasons. "We do indeed Captain Brawne, we do indeed, but surely you must know that I have my own reasons for wanting to find her and I cannot promise you that they will be the same as yours if you want anything less than the corpse of Mira Armonde". Her voice is low and cold and she keeps sneaking glances back at Khane as though the woman might hear her words. "After all I don't think my kind hosts are going to approve of my plan" she says "but one day, whether with your help or on my own I will kill Mira for what she has done to me, for the things she intended to do to me and for every innocent life she has taken. You may be after the gold Captain and forgive me if that is not the case but for me this is about revenge".

Brawne shakes his head and leans slightly closer towards Alysa, his back pulling away from the wall. At the top of the stairs, Justice Khane walks over to position herself directly above them at the summit of the steps as if attempting to eavesdrop without appearing to do so.

Grinning, Brawne says, 'No, Miss Damora, this is not about Mira Marlowe or whatever she calls herself. This is part of something bigger than that. A conspiracy, if you permit me to explain. Mistress Marlowe is only a small part of it. There's a grander design here and, as an engineer in my spare time, I know something about grand designs. That's all I can tell you at the moment. I'm not looking to kill Mira Marlowe. I'm looking to find out who she's working for and, if I can confirm, uncover exactly what they and others like them might be up to.

'Like you, this all started for me when I found one piece of the puzzle. There's no reward for this woman any longer because she is legally dead. Which, as you and I both know, is technically true. She just hasn't stopped moving yet. It's not about gold for me either, Miss Damora.'

He sets his jaw firmly and exhales smoke through his nostrils. 'I also want revenge but not just on one of them.'

There is the dull clanking of metal armor as Justice Khane approaches, descending to stand one step above Alysa and Captain Brawne.

'I believe,' she says in her unyielding tone, 'it is time that you return to your quarters until midday, Mistress Damora.' Her steely eyes glare at the pipe smoking man. 'As for you, you should be on your way. I know who you are and I know how much you'd be worth to the authorities in Viktoron if the stalkers found you. I could always notify them that you and your lot are in Ganelon.'

'We'd be gone long before they arrived,' Captain Brawne replies, 'and, besides, I haven't broken any laws here in Ganelon. At least none that you know of.' He smiles at the lawgiver with a charming curve of his lips and gleam in his eye but the resolute Justice is having none of it.

'Be on your way, sir,' Khane snorts, 'or I'll have you held for contempt of a justice.'

'A thousand and one most heartfelt pardons,' Brawne says, stepping back and giving Khane what Alysa recognizes to be a mocking bow. 'I shall be on my way, goodly and righteous arbiter of justice.'

If Khane can distinguish sarcasm, her expression doesn't reflect any anger or displeasure. She nods curtly at Brawne. 'Good day to you, sir. Now, let us return you to your quarters, lady of Damora. I have other duties this day I must attend and I cannot spend all my hours holding your hand. I shall return at midday so that you may partake of another meal.'

Alysa tries to hold back a laugh for the first time since her ordeal as Brawne mocks the woman guarding her, Khane is not among her favourite of her guard detail and to see someone making jokes at her expense makes putting up with her a little easier. She waves to him as she reluctantly turns to join Khane at the top of the stairs. "It seems my chaperone has spoken Captain, perhaps our next meeting will be more productive for all parties, but I suggest you take her advice, I've heard she has a reputation".

She is now curious as to just what this man has does to warrant the attention of the stalkers and for some reason it makes him all the more interesting."I don't recall asking you to hold my hand, if you hate it so much why don't you go find someone else to annoy" she mutters, half hoping that the woman hears her as she twists the end of her braided hair around her fingers. Perhaps this Captain Brawne is just the man she needs to help her exact her revenge. But only time will tell and time is unfortunately something Alysa finds she has entirely too much of lately.

Khane merely raises her hand and makes a gesture in the air that causes strange symbols to encircle her hand. Suddenly, Alysa shall find she is unable to speak for the moment.

'Because unlike you,' Justice Khane responds confidently, 'I am beholden to a higher authority and subscribe to my duties, regardless of how unpleasant I find them. However, if what you have confessed to Justice Moldon is true, then it is a pity that I do not have the ability to bestow judgment upon you. If you must tolerate a rat in your pantry, it is wise to keep a close eye on it. Now, come along.'

The justice watches as Captain Brawne strides adroitly down the stairs before turning back towards the silenced Alysa and gesturing for her to return to the shrine and, by implication, her room. Just to be certain her orders are clear, however, Justice Khane follows close behind.

Alysa merely cocks an eyebrow at the woman as she turns and stalks back to her room. If looks could kill it is highly likely that the blonde would have one more body to account for. As it is she cannot speak and it is probably for the best given the thoughts running through her head about just what she would like to do to Khane at this moment. For now she simply works over her thoughts, wondering if Brawne will be able to pull the necessary strings to get another meeting, this time hopefully without the antisocial Khane watching their every move like the vultures she's heard hover over corpses. The comparison is not at all complimentary but she feels it suits.