[center][b]Don’t you think you’re a little too excited?[/b][/center]

	The surgeon’s business was located in the bad (or worse) part of the snowy city of Owb. The building itself was sandwiched haphazardly between several other tall buildings, giving the entire corner a bit of a hive look to it. People were buzzing in and out of the many doors and up and down the spiraling stairs, all avoiding the darkened door in one of the alleyways that marked the entrance to the surgeon’s office — all but two, at least.

	Renault and Fora stood by the entrance. Renault himself was stripped of his paladin decor and left in his simple dark cloak and whatever cotton clothes he had underneath. Around his neck was an ivory collar known as a soul-biter, but lucky for him his was a fake… or so he hoped — Fora was in charge of procuring it.

Next to him was the culprit herself, Fora, lacking the need of secrecy, she did away with the long cloak, instead wearing a more loose and revealing Daman outfit, or rather, it would be more revealing if not for the Magistrate still being dressed in the cloth that fully covered her body and left her faceless. She had dressed up in as much bronze and silver accessories as she could, also procuring many local beads and animal prizes like feathers and fangs. The last bit was logical for a wealthy slave driver, but she had yet to communicate how the hell she was not going to immediately kill the deal with the former.

For the moment however, all her outrageous look had done was to make the Daman for once be startled, the path past the crowd having been opened almost out of instinct, with everyone too busy whispering and gossiping to question them and far too many eyes staring for a thief to try their luck. “Huh~ I feel like a Eunomian merchant about to strike a good deal. Are you ready for this, servant?” she questioned tapping her heels on the floor before ringing what some would call a ‘doorbell’ while others would call ‘a humanoid skull covered in brass’

“Don’t call me servant,” Renault managed to hiss before the door swung wide open. There in the doorway stood a rather short mousy woman — in fact she was part mouse. Her features were pinched and she had the start of whiskers as she looked up at Fora, ignoring the chastised looking Renault.

“I don’t know you,” the mousy woman started, rather rudely. 

“Tseh, is it my fault if you are ignorant?” the magistrate retorted. “Consider yourself lucky though, that the name of this place is well regarded by my contacts and that I do not take anything but the best when upgrading and fixing my property” she waved her head to the slave to her side “So I will say who I am, once I am properly greeted and taken far from the rabble of this street.”

The mouse-lady squinted and mumbled to herself before taking a step back so Fora could enter. The lady spoke with less enthusiasm than desired. “Welcome to Torundo’s office, do you have an appointment?”

"No. Just gold, prizes and foreign booze." She said with a wave of her hand as she passed, taking Renault along inside.

"Well, the place is smelly, but beats sharing the air with snorting pigmen." The magi said as she quickly took notice of everything around her. "Name is Nyindja by the way. From what some would call the golden city of the eastern jungle. Part of the Kamelia clan."

The lady had a face that shouted ‘I don’t care’ and as she walked behind a podium, revealing her job as a secretary, it made sense. The trio stood in a dark room with frozen stone walls and smoky braziers doing their best to heat the otherwise dungeon-looking room. Adjusting herself onto a tall stool, the mouse-lady spoke. “What brings you to Torundo’s office today?”

	As she spoke, her eyes started to scan Renault, lifting a brow as she came down to his broad chest. Renault gave a nervous grin and used a single hand to pull his cloak further over him.

"Someone tried to pet the belly of a wolf lady after having got high on wine they sneaked out of my reserves. Now they are lacking an arm, and who has to fix it? Hmmm?" She made a little tsc tsc noise when looking at Renault. "And well, if I am going to have to do this, I decided I might as well go out and make sure it's a damn fine arm at that, perhaps one that is less biteable."

“Ah, sex slave,” the woman nodded with a certain understanding. Renault blinked in confusion and opened his mouth to speak, but then grit his teeth. The secretary hopped off her stool and started walking to a cloth veiled doorway. “I’ll get the good doctor if you want to wait here.”

Fora turned back as the secretary left and almost seemed apologetic despite the lack of facial expression. "How the shining hell did she make that assumption? Remind me never to join a Daman party."

Renault tilted his head and shrugged. “I’m pretty and you mentioned biting, I can see it.” A slow smile started to form on his face, only to wipe away as the cloth blew open and out walked a tall scrawny man with a blood stained apron. His face had snake-like features complete with a flickering tongue and yellow eyes.

“I’m doctor Torundo,” he introduced himself. “You’re Ms. Nyindja?” He pointed a chin at Fora. 

“That would be me indeed. It's so nice to finally see a fellow reptilian like me, these mammals give me the allergies.” she bowed energetically. “I heard good words about you and your work Mister Torundo. It seems you know how to get the best the craft can offer.”

Torundo paused for a moment before smiling. “You’d be correct. I happen to have it in with a very famous artificer of ambrosian fibres, no doubt you already are aware or why else would you be here. Though I admit it is odd you came yourself and with a slave you intend to keep; usually my clientelle are bringing in property that was accidentally damaged during acquisition and in need of a remodel.” 

“I am somewhat of a newcomer to the area, you could say, I used to be part of the unseen blades of the bronze bloom, but decided to follow a hobby instead. And you know, with the whole Anak crisis situation, the increased raids, I thought, why not get myself a few slaves. So, I would like to get a good look at the whole ordeal.”

“Hey, I won’t pry,” Torundo clasped his hands together, “I never stick my head into the business of a paying customer…” The implication was there.

“Sometimes that is for the best, no? Nevertheless, how does this work? I take, given its very personal work, I will need to put a request first, operation later? Hmm?”

Torundo lifted a brow. “Yes, are you familiar with the Xavian concept of the down payment? I find it extremely effective in this line of work. You’ll give me a third (just a third) of the total cost, and I’ll use it to purchase the wares from my vendor. We can discuss price while my nurse takes your slave’s measurements?”

“Yes, I am familiar! If I am not mistaken, they also enjoy a bit of wine while discussing the deal, no? I brought my own just in case you don’t have any.” she declared, finally revealing the bottles she had brought with her, they all looked fancy and foreigner, far better than what most of the Daman could get, given the war and other issues.

“A perfect,” Torundo said. He looked over at his secretary and nudged a chin at Renault. “Take Ms. Nyindja’s property to the nurse for evaluation.”

The mousy lady nodded and hopped off her stool once again. “This way,” she ordered as she passed through the cloth, Renault audibly gulped.

[hr]

Renault was led through the hallway, finding himself slowing down as he passed oddities, such as displayed prosthetics that seemed eerily used, or even odd diagrams of mutated bodies. Each time he lingered, the secretary would pat him roughly on the back to get him moving again and each time the strike was aimed lower. Noticing that, Renault stopped dallying around the time she gave him two curious pats on the lower back and walked maybe even a bit faster than needed.

Eventually the pair came across a thick wooden door and opened it up. Inside was a room that could be described as grey. The floor was grey stones, the walls were grey stones, and there was only a slit you couldn’t fit a fist through for a window. A flat grey table (most likely a rickety combination of Xavior iron and tin) sat in the center and counters of equally dubious knives and pokers lined the periphery. The only thing that wasn’t grey was the white wearing nurse by the table.

The Paladin’s eyes glanced off the instruments of torture and landed on the plant woman who was to be sizing him up as his nurse. Before Renault could get a proper look in, the secretary slammed the door behind him, leaving him alone with the lady.

“Well hello,” Renault started with a grin.

“Get on zzee table.” The nurse barely looked at the man. 

Remembering his mission, Renault shook his head. “Oh but it’s just my left arm, no need to lay down.”

The nurse furrowed her clover brow and frowned. “Fine zzzen take of your zzzhirt.”

Renault grinned wide, “Well if you say so… but um..”

“What izz it?”

“I’m a little shy, do you mind?”

The nurse crossed her arms and looked at Renault with a limited patience before letting out a long sigh and turning around. “Be quick.”

Not wasting any time, Renault took two quick steps forward. “Sneak attack!”

“Huh?” The nurse turned around just in time for Renault to slam the edge of his hand on the base of her neck. Her eyes began to tear up and her legs began to wobble.

“Awh weedzzz.”

She collapsed. The door swung open and the secretary burst in. “What’s going on in here?”

	“Double sneak attack!” Renault chopped the back of the mouse-lady’s neck and sent her to the floor with a thud.

[hr]

“What the (hic) hell was that?” Torundo squeaked through the cup of wine he was holding. He was sitting in a wood paneled office with Fora, the entire ordeal much nicer decorated than the rest of the surgeon’s place. The chairs were definitely imported from the Benea’s Queendom, and the workmanship on everything else spoke of the more cultured parts of the daman lands. In front of him and fora, the wine bottle was already half empty. 

It was impressive what a little concoction of wine, herbs and dream honey could do to a man, one sip and he hadn’t even questioned why Fora wasn’t drinking with him. “Dear goodness, it might be too late.” the magistrate said, standing up. “Doctor. I may not have been fully honest. I mentioned before being of the unseen blades, I said I left but I did not say why.”

Without much context, she started to undo her clothing, first the Daman inspired outer layer. “You heard the rumors right? Of Eleanna meeting with anti-slaving groups. They are true, and we of the clan Kamelia, of chameleon blood, have been given a mission.” as she took off the black cloth, the doctor would see… nothing, the black textile gave way but did not reveal the fully invisible woman.

“But, I did not agree with the plan, I tried to set up a business but so many contacts were already taken down, the crackdown against slavers is starting, and who would be the best target to send a message than one of the most prestigious slave enhancers?” more noise rang outside. “We need to run, doctor, do you have a backdoor or escape route? We need to go now, and warn your contact as well, before it is too late. My clan… they will make boots and bags out of you, haven’t you heard of the odd woman with crocodile boots? That was Doctor Bartholomew.”

“Not Doctor Bartholomew!” Torundo foamed incoherently at the invisible woman, having never met or heard of a Doctor Bartholomew. He stood up quickly (nearly collapsing) and pointed heroically at the door. “This-a-way.” He took a step forward, only to collapse on his face.

“Seesh, should have added more coca, less fungi.” Fora whispered to herself before opening the door, peeking out, and then looking back at the doctor. “Torudo. They are surrounding us. It's too late to run. But I have a plan. Spread on the ground. Pretend you are a rug. Do not answer if they call for you, they have trained parrot men that will mimic the voices of all those you know. Meanwhile, I will go seek Jole, do you remember where his current location is?”

Torundo bubbled on the floor in thought, blowing raspberries. Renault stood on the other side of the door, peeking at where Fora should be as per her clothing and gave her a curious look. He mouthed. “What are you doing?”

“I know where he is!” Torundo shouted from the floor, “But you can’t tell anyone.”

“I will not tell anyone, I promise you Torundo. May the gods take my long chameleon tail if I ever tell you a lie.” Fora’s voice rang from a place completely away from where Renault was looking. 

“You have a tail!?” Renault mouthed in surprise.

“Oh blesh you,” Torundo clasped his hands. “I meet with Jole’s assistant every fourth day of the week, so tomorrow, over at the Gringam Market by the potato stand run by Doctor Bartholomew… I think. Wait no, it was run by Drengant Bartogo, a dingo-man, he is the assistant’s brother. Can you bring me so I can warn them?”

“It's too risky Torundo! You have so many things to live for! Who will take care of your collection of Benea figurines should anything happen to you!? No. I will do this mission alone, I am already a woman born to fight, I can take the risk. You, you hide, as I said, do not believe anyone, even if they sound and look exactly like that breakfast you call a secretary (Renault put his hands on his growling stomach). When you feel like the coast clear, run Torundo, run for rivers Torundo, and swim Torundo, swim until the sounds of the villages fade away.” Fora pleaded, holding and shaking the doctor by the shoulders. 

The intoxicated man stared wheeling his arms and blubbering “I’m swimming! I’m swimming!”

Renault shook his head and entered the room. He snagged Fora by the shoulder himself and pulled her away. “I think you’re having a bit too much fun with this, we should go before the other two wake up.”

“Oops. Sorry.” she hummed, trying to maintain her balance as she was pulled. “So. To the Gringam market then? And could you please stop holding me so close? I am without clothes, you know?”

“Oh.” Renault gave a simple blush before giggling. He cleared his throat and let go. “Well why are you naked!?” His hand waved behind her derriere, voice turning light and curious. “And do you really have a tail?”

“I… I am not a Chameleon, Renault.” she facepalmed, not that anyone could see. “And ah, to hell with it, I am too tired of having to find new outfits, the dusklander tsillo is meant for a hot swamp, not the dry cold. I will just wear a fur cloak and go ‘invisible’ when we need it. Like a little guardian looking out for you on the mission~”

Renault retracted his hand with a quiet “I know…” and nodded. “I won’t turn that down, but hey if you need extra clothes I’m sure the nurse had a few extra outfits somewhere…” He pinched his chin in thought, a smirk growing on his face.

“Could be useful, that mouse did have a pretty cute cloak too, go ahead to the entrance, I will do a little shopping and meet you there~”

[hider=Summary]
Fora and Renault follow their lead to the surgeon, using the cover of a slave and slave driver to perform the deal.
Renault goes off to the nurse and has to avoid them learning he is not actually a slave needing a new arm, so he starts karate chopping everything he sees.
Fora sees the doctor who knows where Jole is, drugs him with spiced wine, and then makes him think he is being hunted by anti-slavers and that Fora is a rogue invisible chameleon-woman assassin protecting his life. 
This, somehow, works, and they get Jole’s location. 
[/hider]