Mt. Rephath has become something of a graveyard for airships. Specifically, those captured (or shot down) in the act of piracy. They aren't going to be flying again, certainly, as their envelopes have been removed. It gives the impression of the top of the mountain as an island, the shipwrecks exposed by a receding ocean. Some of the trophies are more gruesome than others, including one split open to show the skeletal remains of the crew where they'd been embedded in the wood somehow.

There are always guards on patrol, especially near the Pilgrim's Path that switchbacks up the steep mountainside towards the Temple of Rephath itself. There are always a few pilgrims on the path, seeking vengeance (or the new notion of 'justice') or else hoping to appeal on behalf of criminal relations now in the Yodh's dungeons.

The air surrounding a portion of the mountain seems to coalesce, becoming 'thicker' somehow. No, darker, as it swirls like a whirlpool in the sky. Out from it more darkness seems to 'flow', approaching then crashing upon the mountain in eerie silence. It flows and ripples like water; rising and swirling about the remains of the captured airships like a nightmare upon the sea. While the darkness seems to billow and flow out in all directions for the most part, it seems to be heading towards the temple. Not only towards; in. From the high doors at the walkway, the darkness flows across and then over the edge, cascading down like a waterfall. Aside from being pitch black, it is completely silent, adding to the eeriness of it all.

Hall of Transgressions
A raised walkway runs around the perimeter of this audience hall, and on the walls are hung like tapestries long banners listing transgressions and transgressors, forming a "Most Wanted" of the Yodhrephath, suspended from larger-than-life statues of Eeee sentinels, their heads turned toward the fore of the hall, where stands an even larger statue of Rephath in full battle dress, lit from below by angrily burning braziers that flank a stained stone altar where many transgressors have met their end. In one hand of the statue is held the ceremonial dagger-balance, while the other holds a mighty double-bladed axe. The room is biased toward fliers, for the sunken floor has no steps or door leading out.

The acolytes and Yodh on duty in the Hall leap into action at the appearance of the dark liquid. They first abandon the 'bowl' that makes up the floor, in case it should become flooded. Prayers are heard, while the figure on the throne at the far end of the hall remains still, waiting to see what happens.

The darkness swirls as water does going down a drain, slow and rippling as the bowl 'fills'. The darkness then draws inward, the shadow becoming port spherical. It shudders, the surface tension seeming to just barely hold it together. Then it pops, flowing out like smoke. In its center stands Alptraum; wearing a flowing cloak of darkness. (Necessary, since such effects require him to technically be naked and use the shadow itself as his clothing). "Good evening," Alptraum says as he steps forward with one leg and bows to the figure on the throne.

Upon the throne, up near the altar and braziers, the High Priestess Koldesh sits, poise straight and severe, in heavy robes that obscure her frame, and ceremonial pieces of armor that make her appear more imposing physically than any Eeee actually is. Her fur is a dulled gold, and her hair is gray with streaks of white, pulled tightly back into a braid that disappears behind her wings. The Yodhrepath are not much into vanity or beauty - leadership requires strength, and the wisdom that comes with age. "Barsunala," the High Priestess greets, with a slight bow of her head. "This is not the docks, so I assume your business with the Yodhrephath is somewhat more official this time? What new task would you put us to, He Who Changed Rephath's Heart?"

"No task. Information," Alptraum says as he approaches the throne; though when he does stop it is at a respectable distance. "I am researching the actions of the General; those that occurred some years back when the airship she stole fled the City and headed east. I suspect that she may have laid harbor at an abandoned Temple in that direction. That temple, I further suspect, was one dedicated to Diphath. It was likely there that the woman in armor became the undead in armor ... perhaps as part of a deal to 'extend' her existence. Conjecture, of course, but it follows with the behavior seen since. As your order have spent centuries purging that horrible cult, you may have information on not only temples that were in the city, but also the surrounding countryside. Would you be willing to share such information with me? I wish to confirm or disprove my theories and it would be of great assistance."

"That.. is all?" Koldesh asks, mildly surprised. It is a tribute to the discipline of the Yodhrephath (and their acolytes) that there is no whispering among the observers. The High Priestess gestures to a nearby acolyte, who looks momentarily terrified at being chosen, and tells her, "Take the Barsunala to the Guardian of the Past, Hannelore." The acolyte (little more than a girl, but probably pretty well muscled under her shapeless robe) approaches Alptraum with a bit of hesitation. "Please... uh.. please come with me?" she asks.

"I respect your roles and duty in the city, High Priestess. I do not wish to burden you with problems and trivial matters, as well as theories and suspicions that cannot yet be proven fully," Alptraum says politely to the High Priestess. "I only came this time as I am concerned I do not have the luxury of the time of doing investigations on my own. I suspect that she may act sooner than we would like." The acolyte then gets a polite bow of his head as he looks over the girl. He even offers his arm to her, should she wish to guide him with such (as well as it might be so he can gauge her strength). "Thank you. Please lead on," he says.

The acolyte doesn't take the offered arm. Not out of rudeness, but because it would make flying awkward, and there's no other way to get out of the hall. Instead she flies up and lands under one of the tapestries, where she waits for Alptraum.

Alptraum ... cheats. Instead of flying he uses a pillar of shadow to lift himself up to the walkway. The Eeee then 'steps' off (or draws it into himself), then walks along the walkway to meet the girl at the tapestry.

The girl bites her lower lip at the display. She finally heads into a passage in the wall behind the tapestry, and asks, "Are you a spirit?"

Alptraum answers this by tapping her on her on one of her ears as they walk. "I am unfortunately very real," he apologizes to the acolyte.

"And you aren't here to collect any souls for Sunala?" the acolyte asks next, as they begin passing side passages and rooms. There's more traffic as well, although it's very light - mostly acolytes carrying bundles of crossbow bolts or arrows or javelins. "We have many criminals waiting punishment. Are you here to claim some of them maybe?"

"Are you offering to be collected?" Alptraum inquires of the Acolyte. "As I explained to the High Priestess I have come for information, nothing more. Your reaction is also why I do not visit others or ask for more. I have my duty, but it is not one I find pleasure in or wish to think on when I do not have to. If you had to hear every regret of those that have died; or the pleas, I suspect you would feel the same as I."

"They always plead," the acolyte notes, and finally brings Alptraum to a long chamber lined with shelves, which are brimming with scrolls. There's even a glass skylight to let in as much light as possible, but there are also plenty of lamps. "Guardian Hannelore is.. in there," the girl says with a note of dread.

"You often deal with only the guilty, though. My .. duty extends to all. How would you feel is someone who did not deserve to die pleads to live? Or you have to take the soul of a child to rest?" Alptraum asks of Acolyte. "Just because of what I am doesn't mean I do not feel or care. Now, what do I need to know about this Guardian? She scares you."

"You scare me," the acolyte admits. "She.. disturbs me. She escaped you, it is said. She was sentenced to death for a terrible crime.. but survived. That is a sign that she has something of value to Rephath.. so she has been the Guardian of the Past ever since."

Alptraum reaches over again and runs a finger down along her hair. In its wake the hair has shifted to an iridescent blue. "The only constant in life is change. You can either be the driver of it, or the follower. You cannot escape it," he says.

"Nobody escapes Death," the girl says, a bit wide eyed at the blue streak. "Except for Hannelore. I do not think she is happy about it, either. Do you need me to introduce you, or can you seek her out yourself? I can wait here to guide you back out."

Alptraum traces the streak again, returning the hair to normal as it might be frowned upon. "I can introduce myself," Alptraum says, "I do not wish to cause you further discomfort." With that, Alptraum steps forward and into the room with scrolls. His senses ... shift to feeling, as in trying to feel the emotional state of the Guardian; a skill learned from Snow.

There's a presence deeper into the racks of shelves, but it is.. odd. More like a hole, or an absence of feeling. The owner's mood is.. gray. Flat.

Alptraum heads towards it, leaving a smoking trail in his wake. "Guardian Hannelore," he calls out, "I have come for ... information."

"I am Alptraum, known to most as the Barsunala," Alptraum calls out, louder. "I have come for information."

"I know yhou," the voice replies, and Alptraum finally arrives at the source. At first, it isn't clear that Hannelore is even an Eeee. She has no visible wings, and gray robe she wears is literally sack-cloth. Her hands are arms are covered in strange gloves, and her face is.. off. It takes a moment for it all to snap into place. The Eeee is wearing a mask made from the face of an Eeee, held on by leather straps. Smoked glass lenses hide her eyes. She has no ears.. everything beyond the mask is scar tissue, as if she were horribly burned. Her 'gloves' are likewise made from preserved Eeee skin. In both cases, the fur has largely been worn away. "Yhou leffft me beffore."

"Everyone comes to know me eventually," Alptraum replies rather appropriately, "Your time had not yet elapsed. The mask is not necessary around me, though I suppose you ... blame me for living like this."

"I need the massk to sleak," the figure says, the 'lips' rippling slightly. "Noo lhips, otherwhisse. I blame you ffor nothing. I wasss skinn'ed alife for my crimes. I hung for days. Thiss massk iss my formMMMer face."

"What was your crime? Things blur for me," Alptraum admits (or lies). "As for why I am here, I need information on any and all known temples that were to the east of the city. Temples known to have been used by the Diphath cult are of specific interest, but any known and former temples to any gods and goddesses is welcome information."

"You'fe forgotten MMmme," Hannelore says, and wheezes in laughter. "I wass pPPour but pPppretty. I wass married to a mMman that loffed Mme. But I thought him bBeneath me. I Mmmet a handsome, rich mMan - bBut my husBband would not sell me. So I killed hiMmm, and my children bBy him.. and the rich man did not want mMe then. He threw mMe to the Yodhrephath." She speaks while moving along the shelves, which seem to be organized by date. They are walking deeper into the past.

"Do you feel you have suffered enough for what you did?" Alptruam inquires as they walk. "Do you regret your choice?"

"And more importantly, what have you done to make amends for it? Aside from personal suffering," he adds.

"I am numb," Hannelore claims. "I do not sssufffer. No pPain, no hot, no cold. I feel nothing. Not even time. Regret? No place for regret in this TemPple. I rememMBber our deal. I waited until you called on Mme. I learned the Ppast. It has bBeen over fForty years, but you have come." She draws a thick scroll from cubby, and brushes the dust away instead of trying to blow it off.

"It may be possible to give you back what you have lost," Alptraum notes as he helps clear the dust from the scroll. "Forty years as ... this ... seems long enough to me."

"You can offer mMe an end," Hannelore says, as she unfurls the scroll on one of the many stone tables. The even have little 'arms' to hold the scroll flat with, since some are far larger than the table tops. "This isss the chronicle of the War, bBe it legend, mMyth or Hisstory," she explains. In the center of the section that is rolled out is a depiction of Diphath - crazed, fanged, naked and drenched in blood. It almost reminds Alptraum of old Sylvanian legends of 'blood furred demons' that once ravaged the land.

"I can offer you a life. An end is not yet time. Also, ends are easy, and you have the lives of the children you killed to make up for," Alptraum states as he starts to look over the scroll, skimming at first for mentions of the great battle locations to find those that were east'ish of the city.

The story is poetic, and seems to draw on the Book of Woes, one of the less-popular creation stories regarding the Seven Sisters. But it does mention a location. "Kan, whose blood ran as fire, had a grudge against his brother, the weak-willed Van. Kan smote Van, and soaked the earth with his life-blood. And as this was done, Blakat, third-born of Bael-Vael, came to be. Bael raged at this, and brought a fourth daughter through Vael, who was named Rephath, and so it was that Van's wife sought Vengeance that her husband had been slain, bringing her great hardship, and so she brought forth death to the household of Kan and his whole family, including every child, and all the livestock, and every maid and manservant.."

All of this was familiar, but then it reveals, "The blood of Van flowed deep into the earth, and became as a lake. And from the blood of murder grew forth Diphath. Hers was the madness of Blakat, the mercilessness of Rephath, and the constant thirst for innocent blood."

"Such happy tales. They make the stories of Sylvania and of zombies devouring whole towns seems idyllic," Alptraum thinks grimly as he reads on. "And a lake of blood; that's a promising lead."

The Lake of Blood is mentioned again, as being to the east, beneath the City of the Fallen, from whence Diphath's army came to attack the forces of Rephath for dominance.

"The City of the Fallen," Alptraum says to Hannelore, "I need a location more specific than 'To the East'. Are there any?"

The mutilated woman returns to the shelves, and retrieves another scroll. She sets this one out on a different table. "The ApPocrypha," she names it, and scrolls through to a certain section. "The Fallen were. The Fallen are. The Fallen had been. They were of the Old, the First. Their city of jade and crystal and onyx. But the coming of Bael and Vael toppled the spires, and lay it waste to become the haunted city. Kadath, City of the Fallen."

There was a map this time, showing the broken landscape that radiated out from the crater that Babel sat in. To the east was a series of fissures called the Blasted Plain, and 'Kadath' set within it.

"It sounds like a delightful place for a vacation," Alptraum remarks dryly. "That helps. An abandoned city would be a good harbor for a fleeing ship." He taps the spot on the map with a claw. "I require paper and ink to make a copy of this. I have agents that can scout this location."

"Asss you requesst," Hannelore says, and heads back towards the entrance to fetch the supplies.

Alptraum watches her leave. He is ... torn. Given he repaired Otto, he may be able to repair her as well. Forty years is a long time to live like that; a fate honestly worse than death. Time changes all things; and in this time of turning perhaps it is time to forgive her as well and try to restore her. As angry as he can even get at times ... there are things he cannot bear to watch without feeling regret of his own.

The Guardian returns with the paper and ink, as well as a portable drawing table (not much more than a podium really).

And without another word, Alptraum begins the slow process of making a copy of the map. Towards the end, he asks, "Do you hate me?"

"I don't hate, not anymore," Hannelore says. "I know why I am what I am, and what it symbolizes. I know that my fate is entangled with another."

"Then it is time to change," Alptraum says simply. "I will send for you when the time is right for you to begin another path. And no, not and end; you have lives to make up for."

The woman gives a low chuckle. "You don't have to send for me. The acolytes see me, and tell me I am now Babel itself. Punished for its vanity and hubris, flayed bare.. but still lingering on, wearing a mask of its former self. When Babel is restored to life, than so will I be ready as well."

"Heh," Alptraum comments as he finishes the last line on the map, rolls it up, and it somehow disappears into the shadow he wears. Back to the scroll he goes to look for any further points of interest to send Tulani to explore ... or explore himself.

Alptraum holds up his right hand and lets the guise fall away a bit on that to reveal the shadow-boning and 'tendons' while he looks. "You are not the only one who has been flayed," he notes, "Many of us bear the scars."

The later, more recent entries in the scroll talk of the degenerate cults that worshipped Diphath.. and where her shrines were established. There's even one on Mt. Rephath itself.

Alptraum makes a few notes on the cult locations. "When I have time, I wish to see the shrine that was built to Diphath here on Mt. Rephath," he notes.

"I am Ssure that will not bBe a ppProbblemm," Hannelore says, as she begins to roll the ancient scrolls back up.

"Good. Now, since it seems the acolytes talk to you, is there anything wished of me by this Temple?" Alptraum inquires.

"I am Ssure you will ffind out when you leave the libBrary," Hannelore says, putting back the scrolls and turning to look at Alptraum through clouded lenses. She probably doesn't have eyelids anymore, so the lenses are a necessity. "They will bBe waiting."

"Waiting? What, the acolytes?" Alptraum has to ask as he steps away from the woman so that he can leave the library. He's still intent on doing something about her ... it is now just a matter of when. "I suppose I should not be surprised by this. In any event, thank you for your time and information; it may prove valuable in dealing with the corruption that wishes to snuff out what little life remains."

There are several acolytes at the door, which jump into action when Alptraum reappears from the stacks. "Go get her now," the one who led Alptraum to the Library tells one of the others, who rushes off.

"Expecting me to perform?" Alptraum has to ask while arching his brow. It's only appropriate, after all, when children are caught staring...

"No sir," the girl claims. "Just.. uh.." She's interrupted by a complaint from further down the corridor though. "I don't have a lot of time you know," an older female voice says. "I've got be back on the Vigilant Eye by the time the restocking is done." The other acolyte comes around a corner, pulling along a Yodhrephath in the garb of the Temple Guard. While most Yodh put some effort into looking like the Sister they serve, the Yodhrephath are not ones to do that. But this one looks the spitting image of Rephath.. if she was smaller than the usual Yodhrephath, and didn't look so put-upon. Her bare arms show that she's got warrior training though.. but it's the glint of gold on the hand that the acolyte is tugging that stands out to Alptraum. He's seen it plenty of times before - the ring of a College Esoterica graduate. A mage.

Alptraum's brow arches again. "A mage? Here? It would explain the stories about their ships and how they hide," the Eeee thinks as he watches this Eeee be drug towards him. Then something strikes him and he cannot resist saying in complete deadpan, "I take no one before their time. This one ... while older than you ... is hardly close to the time of passing."

"What? I'm not that old!" the Yodhrephath counters, then she shakes of the acolyte and shoos her away. "You too, Fezzi," she tells Alptraum's guide, who very reluctantly follows the other one. Once they're far enough away for the woman's satisfaction, she switches to Standard and asks, "Shadow? Pretty brave wearing it for clothes. Or are you Illusion? Hard to tell the difference sometimes."

"I am a lot of things," Alptraum remarks in accented standard and waves his right hand, possibly to show he is anything but a mage. "As for clothing, required as I cannot change normal clothing at will like I can the rest of me."

"I don't believe in demons," the woman says. "Well.. I mean I believe in them.. like I believe in this wall.. but I'm not all.. spiritual.. about it. So don't try any mythical stuff on me, it won't work. Probably won't work, anyway.." She seems to run out of steam for a moment, a look of worry creeping into her expression. "Are you a demon?" she finally asks, a bit more softly.

"Not exactly. I'm someone who ended up having to deal with a lot of things due to family relations and old influences," Alptraum admits and shrugs slightly. "What has been happening in this city I can't let continue. As a mage, and yes I know what the ring means ... I'm sure you know of Aztepa? The General, while ostensibly serving Diphath, gets most of her power from Aztepa and its undead queen-spirit, Amenlichtli. That is how serious the situation is."

"As if Diphath isn't serious enough?" the mage asks, looking tired. "So.. you got sucked into it all too then. You really are an avatar of the Barsunala? What's with the shadow? The girls couldn't shut up about your 'big entrance'.."

"I am an avatar yes, due to all the circumstances around my birth. I was born from a Srinala, and sustained through their magic during the pregnancy. I am ... broken, as it was once described to me; someone with only half a spirit. The hole was filled with the other," Alptraum tries to explain and then holds up his right hand again, letter it appear in its flayed state. "The shadow is from the weapon I ripped away from Amenlichtli, the Shadow of Amena. It cost me considerably."

"And I thought my friend had it bad being the Avatar of Inala," the mage mutters, her expression softening quite a bit at the sight of the hand. "You want to see the Shrine of Diphath near the cliff?" she asks.

"Want and need are different things. I need to see it, I don't particularly want to," Alptraum admits as he lowers his hand and lets the shadow resume the disguise of the damage. "I've seen what is coming and I have to stop it. For my people, flawed as they are, and for my children. I don't want my children to have to face the world Dihath would make for them," he says softly.

"It's more of what I am hoping not to find; any activity. Worst case I hope to perhaps find something that mentions the fallen city; I have to got here soon and see if that is where the General became what she is now," Alptraum explains.

"There's an item in the ruins that I'd like to get my hands on," the mage says. "A Ritual Disrupter, one used to collapse the Dream Ritual."

"Want to go to the city as well, then?" Alptraum arches his brow. The tone is that he's probably joking and not expecting she would actually want to. "And why do you want that?"

"I don't have time to go searching for trouble," she claims. "I've done enough of that. And I want that item for the same reason you're doing all of this: it's a weapon against Diphath, or any other big magical ritual. That shrine was one of the anchors for the ritual - where they sacrificed people to power it. It's the only one that wasn't recovered, and.. uh.. it's got a use, still."

"Yeah, well ... I'm used to going to dark places alone I suppose. Goes with my territory," Alptraum admits. "I suspect it's at the Lake of Blood where the General became an undead. I also suspect she did that because she was near the end of her life and was not ready to end. That armor she wears lowers the lifespan of its wearer considerably."

"That's gross," the mage notes, sticking out her tongue. "I hate that so much Babel and Eeee-related stuff like that has to be gross."

"I could show you worse," Alptraum admits, "Such as she was using a tree that would take stillborn Eeee and grow them into soldier husks."

That makes the mage cover her ears with her hands. "Stop that!" she complains, and seems to be under a lot of stress. "Just.. I don't deal with that sort of thing. I don't kill people or fight monsters.." At the mention of not killing people, Alptraum remembers something. It had just been a dream at the time, but it was this same woman fighting a magic duel against a Fnerf mage.. and Zakaro was there, offering the winner power. This one won, but refused to kill the other mage. Wynona was the name. He vaguely recalls Rephath being there too, and the Avatar of Inala.

"I know, Wynona. I saw your fight with the mage, your victory, and your refusal to take a life in Zakaro's challenge," Alptraum says, perhaps so that she's aware that he is more than just a typical Eeee. "I've saved more monsters than I have killed," Alptraum adds, "And for what I am ... I hate killing. Killing is easy, saving a life is hard. The stuff I deal with is to spare others, yourself included, from dealing with it." He rubs his own forehead for a moment. "There are a lot of nightmares out there beyond anything but a few have seen. I'm trying to explain myself because the last time I had any involvement with mages ... they were trying to kill me. I was just passing through, I was in an inn, I did nothing, and they sent people to try to kill me."

"Sorry if I'm a bit high-strung," Wynona says, after composing herself. "We've all had bad experiences with.. certain groups.. that doesn't mean they're all the same. But when you're hurt, it isn't easy to get over it. I hate the Yodhinala, and I'm glad they're gone. They hurt me. Lots of things hurt me. That's why I joined the Yodhrephath after they rescued me. So that I wouldn't feel like a victim anymore. So.. don't feel like one yourself."

"I don't feel like a victim, more that I am resigned. I have a path, and a task. I have a true monster to stop, the General, and her backer Amenlichtli. Then assuming I survive that, I have to stop Amenlichtli herself. I have met her descendant, the one she will some day try to possess. She is a child, so full of life and undeserving of what is intended for her," Alptraum says, "So I have nightmares to walk into and horrors to deal with so that others are spared it." He waves his hand and adds, "And none if this is your problem."

"Will you help me retrieve that artifact then?" Wynona asks, sounding a bit concerned. "Mage Cyprian needs it. You might not know who that is, but he's always tried to protect Babel.."

"I know him well actually. He is one I trust," Alptraum notes and shrugs. "Even if his spell to punish the one who dropped the boomer also made me hear the screams of everyone who died."

"Rockmore must have gotten it worst," Wynona says. "You aren't a gibbering idiot after all. Cyprian heard them too, and so did my friend.. and probably others I'll never know about. The point now is to prevent it from happening again, right?"

"More. The point is to heal the damage, then prevent it from happening again," Alptraum corrects gently.

"Healing it is a bigger challenge than I can imagine," Wynona says. "You haven't seen into any other dreams of mine, have you?" she then asks.

"I make it a point to not pry into others dreams unless necessary," Alptraum notes. "I can but ... I have a moral code about how I use my abilities."

"Good," the mage says, and lets out a breath. "Do you need to do anything else here in the Temple?"

"Do you have dream problems?" Alptraum has to ask. "As for anything else here, no. I try not to pry into any of the Temple's businesses unless necessary."

"I was held prisoner by the Yodhinala," Wynona admits. "They drugged me, dressed me up as Rephath.. I don't remember it all, but I have nightmares sometimes. I'm not from Babel. I don't fly around in underwear and call it normal like they do here. The only people who ever flirted with me were a Korv pirate and the Lapi that sold me magical supplies. Oh.. and my best friend made some very disturbing suggestions to me during a party.. but supposedly Inala was in control that night. And that's already more than I'm comfortable talking about, so.. let's go dig into an old torture chamber instead."

"I'm sorry. For everything that happened to you. For not being around to stop it," Alptraum says, "For the things my existence has caused."

"It couldn't possibly be your fault," Wynona says. "You didn't create the Yodh, or make me look like Rephath, or convince me to be friends with some really odd people. You probably aren't even responsible for me sneezing and ruining my spells half the time, or being blown half way around the world or dealing with psychic bug monsters on Abaddon.. see, there's just too much weirdness to go around for anyone to be responsible for anyone else."

"No, but my existence is responsible for some of the events in Babel," Alptraum says. "So ... lets go see the torture chamber."

Shrine to Diphath
The remains of the foundation of an ancient building create a flat place here, perhaps a hundred feet across, beside a cliff-drop of a few hundred yards on the southern face. Little is left of the walls save the occassional weathered stone, the collection of them suggesting the original structure was circular. Trees surround the area, including a couple that have sprouted among the flagstones. Near the center stands the pedestal of a statue, but a pair of worn feet and calves still stand on its base. Before the pedestal lies smooth stone with a curved indentation on its top. A layer of unbroken snow carpets everything, save for a curving set of steps leading down, into the ground, beside one of the ruined walls.

The passage that would be at the bottom of the steps is blocked - it looks the roof collapsed, but not actually all that long ago. Wynona deals with this by clearing some space to draw a magic circle, and casting a spell, while asking Alptraum to listen for any howls or other noises of air blowing through openings. When she's finished casting, a strong wind blows past them and down into the blocked tunnel, forcing its way through the cracks. It takes nearly a minute before the sound of escaping air can be heard.. and it seems to be coming from below the edge of the cliff.

"Clearing the path?" Alptraum inquires, "Or stagnant air?" His ears remain focused forward as he both listens and feels for emotional states beyond. He's also 'hardened' the shadow cloak he was wearing into makeshift armor; it makes him look like he is carapace-encased while Wynona was busy.

"There's always an exit or airshaft for underground structures," Wynona explains. "Blow in one end.. figure out where it comes out. That path may not be blocked."

"There isn't always," Alptraum notes, "Zombies and the undead do not need them. The lich lords of Sylvania could use underground fortresses like that as it would keep the living from being able to get to them."

"The followers here needed air, I'm sure," Wynona says. "Because I can hear it blowing out of a vent. You need to keep the sacrifices alive before they're sacrificed after all. Even though this was one of the 'kinder' shrines, where Diphath was seen as Rephath's mother, it still supposedly had lots of blood sacrifices. I don't know what condition it's in though, after the Dream Ritual was broken and the magical backlash hit the anchors."

"You don't have to go in," Alptraum offers as he heads towards the cliff's edge to peer over and see if he can see the air escaping as a dust cloud or the like "I know you have bad memories of everything that happened."

There's definitely some dust blowing out.. but the actual vent is hidden, possibly under an angled section of the cliff.

"If it's a vent I couldn't fit," Wynona says. "Even when I was skinnier. Eeee aren't built for climbing through tubes with these wings. Uh.. there might be bodies in there too still. From the end of the ritual."

"I don't?" Wynona says. "But.. you can command animals and such, can't you? Or stretch your shadow inside or.. whatever. Can you really change shape?"

"We should check the opening then," Wynona suggests, and goes to drop over the side of the cliff.

Alptraum grins, waggles his fingers, and tips off the edge of the cliff, wings completely pulled in! He drops like a rock, too, yet manages with grace to kick off the mountainside and then spread his wings; bringing his descent to a rapid halt. He spirals gracefully down towards the area where the air is escaping. Gypsy showoff.

Eeee do not hover well, or at all. It takes a few passes to really see the outlet. It's angled downward, and would impossible to spot from the cliff top, especially being more than twenty feet down. It's about two feet wide and one-and-a-half feet tall, with a rather smooth floor. "Ugh, I think it's a garbage chute," Wynona says. The garbage from a blood-sacrifice temple could include whole bodies, after all.

"Probably is. I've had to climb up garbage pits before. Not a pleasant experience I must admit," Alptraum explains. "That one is enough that you could shimmy up it if you had to."

"Shimmy? Me?" Wynona squeaks. "I can barely dance!" She does fly up to the hole, stall out, and grab onto the edge to ping it. "It goes about twenty feet.. not sure if there's anything at the end, sounds jumbled," she reports.

Since there hasn't been any hint of life (or variations) from Alptraum's senses, the place probably doesn't pose that sort of danger.

Alptraum tries to grab onto the ledge as well so that he can get a look. "I could climb up that as a naga easily," he notes to Wynona. "But naga cannot fly, which complicates how I would get back to it."

"Oh.. good point," Wynona agrees. "I don't know how much I could carry.. Nagas are pretty heavy." She chews on her lip for a bit, eyeing the passage. "I really hope I'm not claustrophobic.." She lets go and drops until she can catch air and fly back up towards the clifftop.

"You don't have to go," Alptraum calls after her as he follows her back up. "I can just try to climb in as I am."

"I need to identify the disrupter though," Wynona says. "Unless you can detect faint enchantments?" She starts to remove the bulkier bits of her armor, especially the wide shoulder guards.

"I can detect a lot of things," Alptraum comments, "I won't know for certain unless I try. I'll go first so that anything that might try to eat us eats me first..." He soon holds up his hands, adding, "And I'm kidding; there is no life inside. I checked and that is one thing I can easily detect."

"I'd hope there wasn't any life in there.." Wynona says, then catches herself. "Not that I want to find lots of bodies or anything!" She keeps her tunic and pants on, but decides to shed her boots as well to have the extra set of digits available for climbing.

"I can shadow-rope you if you want, so that if you lose grip you won't fall," Alptraum offers. "It's sort of like being held by a tentacle though."

"I should have thought to bring some real rope.." the Air Mage notes with a shudder. "It doesn't matter though.. if I slip I just slide out into the air and try again."

"Unless you catch and break a wing," Alptraum thinks. He at least spares her that comment. "Well, offer stands. I'm used to dealing with supernatural horrors and oddness," he adds as he heads to the cliff edge and hops off. Now he just has to catch and shimmy up the shaft. Joy.

It's a bit disturbing. It should just be moving up a tube, but with all of the other weirdness in Alptraum's life at the moment, it seems to take on a more direct connotation - that he's moving up a birth canal. There's a slight squirming sensation in his (really her) belly as a result. Otherwise being able to hold oneself in position with wings while using the sides for grip isn't that hard - the smooth and supposedly slippery floor is easily avoided. Alptraum's hand eventually encounters and obstacle - a wooden grate. It's fairly old and rotted though, and shouldn't be hard to break through.

"All right you all in there, behave yourselves," Alptraum thinks as the internal squirming starts. The last thing he (she) needs is that distraction right now; he had practically forgotten there are five larvae deep within and firmly attached too and feeding off him. He braces with wings and feet, then uses his hands to push hard at the grate to try and break it free or through it.

There's resistance, then a crack and the grate crumbles, showering bits of wood down into the shaft. The smell of blood is old, but it's still noticeable, having soaked into the wood.

"Old blood," Alptraum calls out in case Wynona wants to try and not breathe through her nose. He now hooks his hands onto the edge of the shaft and tries to pull himself up and out.

The chamber is small and dark, but there's a door barely hanging on by a single hinge. The wall it's set in has shifted, cracking the frame. "I'm coming up now!" Wynona calls from the drain.

Alptraum places his hand on his gut to feel if the 'cargo' has calmed down yet you not. He also pings around the room, sounding out the shape and up through the broken door to sound out a bit beyond as well.

Now that things aren't been compressed, the belly-brood is calm again. There's a hallway beyond the door, possibly circular from the echoes - it may match the shape of the above-ground part of the temple.

"It's just a small room. There is more beyond, circular," Alptraum calls back down the shaft.

A pale hand reaches up through the drain hole, and grasps around for a firm hold on the floor. Wynona pulls her head up, and gasps a bit. "Please tell me this isn't the toilet.." she wheezes.

Alptraum offers his hand should Wynona want help up. "Not as far as I can tell," he notes.

The Mage takes it - apparently her Yodhrephath training about not accepting aid didn't sink in that deep. Once she's up on her feet, she immediately begins to chant and move her hands as if she were rolling a ball between them.

"My hand wasn't that dirty," Alptraum jokes. He leaves the mage be and goes to actually look through the broken doorway. He also thinks through the various bodyforms he has available and Eeee seems as good as any right now since he can sound everything out.

There are more chambers along the curving hall, seemingly equally spaced. There are some flashed of light behind Alptraum, casting his shadow against the doorway. Tiny sparks of lightning flash between Wynona's palms, where a small cloud seems to be growing. Soon it's glowing more or less constantly from the tiny bolts of lightning, until it gives as much illumination as a flickering torch might. Wynona spreads her hands and the cloud ascends towards the ceiling. Then she sneezes, and wipes her nose on her sleeve. "I prefer light," she explains.

"I just adapt my body to the situation," Alptraum notes, "I once spent a week as a hog to track down agents of the General." He slips through the doorway and walks along it slowly. Concern over traps is not lost on him as he's testing the way with his toes and pinging for any shape aberrations in the wall and floor that could indicate hollowness. Each doorway will also get a cursory examination to see if they are anything more than just cultist quarters.

"Interesting. A girl took care of me and doted on me as if I were a treasured pet. It could have been a lot worse," Alptraum notes. "I had a good time overall."

The first doorway next to the garbage chute chamber.. is an abattoir of sorts. There are restraints in the ceiling, where a sacrifice might be suspended upside-down from, and large collection jars beneath. Each jar has a different symbol on it.

Sacrificial room. Blood letting and organ collection," Alptraum says as he slips in to get a closer look at the jars.

The symbols are.. meaningless to Alptraum. They look like Babelite pictoglyphs, but have no straight slashes at all - just curves. One might be a flame, another water, but the rest are a bit too complicated.

Wynona peeks, casting her light about. There aren't any bodies of course - they'd have long turned to dust.

"Hmmm, they.. uh.. hmmm," the pale bat mutters as she looks at the marking. She even feels it. "Engraved.." she notes, and then moves her light to shine into the jar itself. "Ah.. there are holes! I mean, holes that go through to the inside of the jar. These might be blessings.. well, relatively speaking... that would activate when enough blood was passing through them.."

"Any idea what the blessing would be? I'm not going to bleed enough to fill it," Alptraum notes.

"I don't know really know what the worshippers of Diphath got out of the religion," Wynona admits. "Uh.. these weren't really sacrifices though, probably. Those would be done up at the altar. If the Yodhdiphath really were all vampires - or at least aspired to be - then maybe they.. drank.. from the markings? Rituals to turn them into vampires, or channel something important through the blood.. maybe?"

"You think the General was turned into an undead by something like this?" Wynona asks.

"You won't catch a natural vampire using things like that," Alptraum says as he makes a face. "As for if that turned her undead? I doubt it. More likely something to do with a black heart."

"Organs.. blood from organs in the jars.." Wynona wonders, and shudders. "This could all be just mimicking something from someplace else. Something older."

"Not pleasant, regardless. Can you carry one of the jars out with us for further study?" Alptraum asks.

"Does it have to be intact?" Wynona asks. "If we can find some usable rope, we can send it down the shaft to dangle against the cliff, and grab it once we're out."

"Well, intact would help in studying how it was used. Lets set one by the shaft and continue looking," Alptraum offers. "We'll do what we can."

After setting aside one of the jars, there are more chambers along the hallway. Most them turn out to be cells - and not the sort that monks sleep in. These have restraints.. some of which look like the person held would be extremely uncomfortable.

"And you do realize there are going to be rumors about you now, correct? You're fraternizing with Death's only child," Alptraum notes as he is peering into one of the cells. "People may find you creepy to be around. I'm sorry if they do. I can't control what people think."

"I'm used to rumors," Wynona claims. "This place is creepier than you are anyway. I think I see stairs.." She points, and the little lamp-cloud illuminates a narrow staircase heading upwards.

"Then I suppose I should also warn you I'm a vampire," Alptraum adds as he follows behind her. "Not the undead kind, though. And no, I don't bite people normally."

"I've.. met vampires before," Wynona claims, although from her tone it probably wasn't a pleasant experience. She bobs the light up the stairs, and already there are signs of the upper level being the one that suffered a collapse. "I hope everything has settled that's going to settle up there.." she says.

"I'll go first," Alptraum says as he heads up the stairs before Wynona can. "Most natural vampires are fine people and wouldn't hurt anyone," he notes as he goes. "These cultists have made everyone believe we're all horrible monsters."

"Well.. Eeee are seen as horrible monsters in lots of places, vampire or not," Wynona notes. The space above the stairs is clear, but the rest of the chamber is a mess. Pillars and arches have collapsed into heaps, along with sections of the ceiling. Most of the damage is near the center and exit tunnel though, leaving enough clear space and undamaged artifacts to show that this was some sort of torture chamber - with its own altar. Probably for the 'inner mysteries' of the cult, with the public stuff taking place in the aboveground shrine.

"I've seen several evil cults now and they all have doom and gloom rooms like this," Alptraum remarks rather dryly as he circles slowly, listening for stone movement and feeling for soft floor. He's heading towards the altar in spiral in ... and whil ehe goes he tries to feel if there is any emotional residue through Snow's 'gifts'.

As far as residue.. it's clear that a lot of people suffered here.. and some rather recently. There's a sense of presence.. as if Diphath herself manifested here briefly..

Wynona is ignoring the torture devices as much as possible, and searching near the central pile of debris. "I was probably on the altar.." she mutters.

"Many suffered here. I can still feel them," Alptraum admits. "And I also feel ... Diphath herself manifested here once."

The hairs on the back of Wynona's neck go stiff. "Is she about to do it again?" she asks in a whisper. Her lamp-cloud flickers a bit.

Alptraum concentrates, trying to feel as if that were the case or not. "I don't know yet. I imagine it is unlikely, though, as any Goddess usualy has to have faithful followers present to manifest."

"Or lots of Wild Magic," Wynona says. "The backlash probably did it.. whoever was working the ritual in here when the Dream collapsed probably got caught by Diphath.."

"I doubt anyone feels bad about that," Alptraum admits as he goes to the altar itself to examine it more closely.

The altar has a lot of junk piled against it, forming something of a stone cage. The stone that made up the arches for the ceiling have collapsed against it, with a few openings at least.

"I'm not the sort of Yodhrephath that thinks over-much about 'just desserts' and stuff," Wynona says. "I'm sure it was the absolute epitome of awfulness, and awful is awful whether it's deserved or not." She's moving her light around to shine it through the cracks and gaps.

Alptraum moves about, trying to peer through the rubble and get a better look at the altar. "This reminds me all too much of the Amena cult on the Gigi isle," he thinks grimly. "They brought it upon themselves, though," he notes, "And would have done worse to others. Don't morn the cruel and the evil; it just allows them to continue to hold sway over you."

"I doubt Diphath was acting out of a sense of justice though," Wynona remarks, then holds the lamp in one place. "That's it, I see it!" she says. From Alptraum's view.. the beam from the lamp is just shining on a round stone that doesn't look like anything special.

Alptraum tries to reach in with shadow tendrils to 'collect' the stone. "Oh, likely not," he agrees as he concentrates on controlling the shadow, making him sound a bit distracted. "She is one of the Goddesses I would rather not meet. The others I have met with and have reasoned with, through force and other means."

The tendril touches the stone.. and slides right off without getting a grip. "It still has some charge in it," Wynona suggests. "And you have some magic in your shadow, so it's countering it. We can use a stick though!"

"How mundane!" Alptraum laments, "How can I be all impressive with a stick?" Sighing, he withdraws the shadow and goes to look for a stick. A STICK!

There are broken spears from a fallen rack next to a Maiden of Pain box. Any of them should be long enough.

Alptraum grabs one of the broken spears. He heads back, looking rather dejected. Grumbling, he sticks the spear end through a hole in the debris and works on fishing out the round stone. "I grew up a performer," he notes, "I like performing; being creative with flair."

"I grew up sneezing a lot at inappropriate times, and now I hunt pirates," Wynona points out. "That stone is worth more than my entire education, and all the money I ever earned as a Mage.. and probably a lot more as well." She reaches through to grab the stone once Alptraum has it pushed into a better position to do so. "Gotcha!"

"I don't mean money so much as effort," Wynona says. "And value.." She holds the stone in an open palm, and starts to chant another spell.

And Alptraum steps back. Given what he is, anything that counters magic is likely not good for him.

As the spell progresses, the stone seems to twitch.. until there's a flash of lightning between it and Wynona's nose. She sneezes violently, and all of her fur and hair poof out. There's a curl of smoke that rises from her nose. But the stone itself has changed. It's now an egg-sized jewel, which each facet seeming to be made of a different kind of gemstone. It's circled by a gold band with crawling, shifting symbols on it.

Alptraum's brow arches a bit at that. "Impressive. The poofing out that is. The stone is nice too," he jokes.

"It takes forever to get my hair flat again," Wynona laments, and rubs her nose with her free hand. "But.. we've got it! I just need to get it Mage Cyprian now."

"I can arrange that if it will be complicated for you to do so," Alptraum offers as he resumes searching the chamber for anything that may have survived. Books, notes, scrolls, anything at all that might prove informative.

Most of the contents seem to be torture implements. There are blood-stained bowls, blood-stained figurines (of Diphath), and little channels in the floor for blood to flow into. The channels look a bit like the designs on the jars do: odd curves that sometimes break or overlap or interweave.

"Other than that stone, there seems to be little else of value," Alptraum concludes and sighs. "I was hoping to find more so that I have more I can plan off of in dealing with the General or knowing what to expect in the Fallen City. All this tells me is ... expect a lot of curving troughs and nasty devices."

"Seeing him is.. awkward," Wynona admits. "I have a mail drop, but I wouldn't want to send this like that. If you can hand it to him directly, I'll let you take it. It's been discharged now."

"Why is seeing him awkward?" Alptraum has to ask, "Other than your current position?" He shrugs a bit, then adds, "I can get it to him either directly or through another I trust; so that shouldn't be an issue. It just means you have to trust me with it."

"I think I can trust you," Wynona admits. "You're weird. I tend to attract weird people, but they're usually alright. And yes, it's difficult for a Yodhrephath to just drop by the Mages Guild Hall."

"I can drop in secretly. Shapeshifter and all that," Alptraum notes, "So it should be easier for me. You can trust me. Granted anyone can say that, but I have no way to prove it right now. At least not with anything more than I have already done."

"Sorry I can't help you with these patterns," Wynona says, gesturing at the floor. "I think they mean something, but I don't know their origins. Don't look Babelite and aren't like the runes we use in magic."

"I can ask other sources. The Yodhbarada might know; they collect secrets after all," Alptraum notes, "And I have a few contacts with them."

"Hard to say with them. I know Barada Herself fairly well. We get along," Alptraum notes and shrugs a bit, causing shadow to ripple. "I have allowed Her to see some of my life, so that may count."

"I don't suppose.. uh.." the white bat starts to say, then blushes in her ears. "You want all the Yodh to cooperate, right?" she asks.

"That is one of my goals, yes. I'm trying to change Babel for the better. I want to see a semi-unified sisterhood working for the better of all," Alptraum agrees.

"So.." Wynona says, haltingly. "It's Captain Karada!" she blurts. "He's a very good man. An admirable man. But he's.. haunted. The Yodhbarada have something or know something that troubles him, and it isn't fair that should have influence over him like that, is it?"

Alptraum's brow arches again. "Boyfriend?" he actually inquires. "Anyway, you want me to find out what they know? Should I talk to Captain Karada first?"

"No!" Wynona says, a bit too quickly. "I mean.. he doesn't see me that way." She seems flustered now, and takes a moment to calm down. "He shouldn't know about this. If you can just.. ask the Yodhbarada to let it go.. like they're just doing it because they're supposed to be helping and all.." She ends with a sneeze.

"Do you want him to see you that way?" Alptraum asks next, his head actually tilting slightly with curiosity. "And of course I can ask the Yodhbarada. I would consider it an honor to do so."

"He isn't ready," Wynona says. "All I can do is.. be there for him for now. And I'm really grateful for all your help! If you need any magical help.. I can maybe possibly help out."

"Don't wait forever if you do care for him in the way I suspect you do," Alptraum notes, "I know it is terrifying to approach someone you feel that way about. It's a risk and you're holding your heart out to someone that could crush it. But ... the rewards are equal to that risk. I took the chance with Rosalind Draco; she captured my heart when I met her. And ... well, we've started a family. I may or may not ever get to see my children, though."

"You should try to then," Wynona says. "Things are so uncertain now.. I don't want to make Karada's life more complicated."

"My advice for what it is worth: Life never gets less complicated," Alptraum notes.

"I should have been a Chaos Mage," Wynona laments, then takes a deep breath and pokes her cloud-lamp to make it brighter again. "Think there's any more to find here?" she asks.

Alptraum looks around a bit, then sighs softly as he releases a long held breath. "No. This floor is unstable, and much of it is probably collapsed. It has not been used in a time and what is left, is mostly junk. I think we have found all we can," he concludes. "And outside of trying to cause Diphath to manifest, which I do not want to try, I don't see much else to do."

"Let's go then," Wynona says. "You should slide out first, then you can catch the jar when I send it down."

"Right," Alptraum agrees. He tosses away the remains of the spear he was carrying, then heads back the way they came through all the gloom and oppression. Once at the chute, he pulls his wings in on himself, sits at the edge of the shaft, then says, "I'll see you outside." He then goes sliding down the Chute!

The jar is an easy catch. And then Wynona slides out, her poofed hair now looking more cylindrical as a result. Back atop the cliff, she hands the disrupter to Alptraum after getting back into her armor. "What were you seeing the Guardian of the Past about earlier, if you don't mind my asking?" she asks.

"Locations of other Diphath temples. Particularly any mention of them to the east of Babel. There is one, a lake of blood underneath a fallen city, that sounds like a place the General may have sold herself at. IT is along the flight path of her stolen ship," Alptraum explains as he waits for the mage to re-armor herself. "And in fairnes to asking me a question, I have to ask ... why did you join the Yodhrephath? You are nothing like they typically are."

"They rescued me," Wynona says quietly. "I was always having to be rescued. They offered me a way to.. be more confident. Less afraid. Stronger. I needed that. There were some.. bad times, with Rephath herself.. but I want to help Babel, and the Captain. This seems the best place to do it from right now."

"My opinion? That is the best reason to join," Alptraum notes. "Honest, simple, and with a purpose of greater good."

"I don't worship Rephath," Wynona admits. "I don't particularly like her. She used me and my friend.. so I don't feel bad about using Her to my own ends like this. But when it's all over, I don't know what I'll do. It depends on the Captain."

"And sorry, but I have another question. Am I what you expected? Everyone has expectations of what I would be like. I'm curious how close I matched yours," Alptraum asks. "And I know what you'll do. That's easy to see; you'll live. You'll move forward and leave behind the shadows of the past that still haunt you."

Wynona blinks. "I.. never actually thought about it," she admits. "I knew that you convinced Rephath to change our mission, and I wondered about that. What that would take, I mean. Sunala isn't exactly pro-active, so I didn't expect the supposed Barsunala to be either. I don't know why you're trying to save Babel, just that you are and that's what matters. So.. I don't know what I was expecting. You seem pretty normal most of the time. Although a bit like Cyprian too. Enigmatic."

"I am anything but normal; I just fake it well," Alptraum claims. "As for why? A lot of reasons. Guilt. Desire to. And knowing what will happen if I don't. Imagine Babel as a city of nothing but zombies; an undead army to take the world. Stopping that is worth the risk. And lastly, just because I want to help. I've said this before; to another Yodh in fact. One person can change the world. One kind act may seem like nothing, a mere shudder. But, that shudder can grow as it touches another and they pass it on. Before you know it, it is an earthquake."

"At least you're trying to change the world, and not just doing it by accident," Wynona says. She brushes down her hair as best she can and asks, "Fair is fair.. was I what you expected? I know you don't care for mages, so I'm curious."

"To be honest ... you're timid for Yodhrephath. But ... I think that is a good thing. I can talk to you without having to impress you before you'll take me seriously," Alptraum explains. "My entrance at the temple was so that I would not be confronted or questioned. As for the mage part..." There he shrugs a bit before continuing, "You haven't called me monster, accused me of witchcraft, asked to dissect me, or otherwise treated me as beneath you. So, that counts for a lot."

"But what were you expecting of Rephath's rogue Air Mage?" Wynona asks. "Someone more impressive? I'm curious because.. well, for most of my career I've been Wrong-Way Wynona. The screw up, the accidental saboteur.. I even got thrown into jail because of my reputation."

"Wynona, I see you as anything but a screwup," Alptraum says. "I expected someone smart and skilled; in that you met all expectations."

"Well.. that's just fine," Wynona says magnanimously, and gives a bow. "Now I have to go wash my hair before anyone thinks I've electrocuted myself again."

Alptraum's brow arches a little, then asks, "Would you have preferred me to call you a screw up?"

"No.. I just don't have any idea what people think of me out in public," Wynona notes. "I've got the mages, who know my past.. and the Yodhrephath.. who have their own opinions. But nobody on the outside."

Alptraum lifts his right hand, which becomes encased in flowing a bubbling shadow. "I could fix your hair for you," he offers, grinning rather sinisterly along with it.

"That's alright!" Wynona claims. "I'm used to doing it, really. And I don't know if your magic will react weirdly with mine.."

"Now you're just teasing me," Wynona claims, and waggles a finger. "Besides, you said you were a performer, not a hair-stylist."

Alptraum shakes out his hand and the shadow dissipates. "Of course I was," he says, then actually pats her on the shoulder. "Be careful. I don't want to have to meet you in a more professional capacity, if you catch my meaning."

"Wow.. that would be awkward," Wynona admits. "But being an Air Mage on a combat ship means I get the most protection while I'm working. Of course, my ptera tried to eat me a few times.. but I've got her under control now," she adds with a wink.

Alptraum chuckles and shakes his head a bit. "I have occupied too much of your time. Return to swooning over your Captain," he teases and counter-winks. "If you need me for anything, just try to dream about me in some capacity, that should get my attention."

"Now that is scary," Wynona remarks, and spreads her wings. "But at least you aren't Zakaro!" she says as she flaps off back towards the Temple of Rephath, and the moored airship there.

Mostly satisfied with the information gathered (even though the old temple was a bust except for the ritual breaker), Alptraum tips off the old temple top again. His wings snap wide and there he just glides. No grand smoke screens; he has no one to impress right now anyway. He just needs to store the two items he collected, the jar and the jewel, and make copies of the maps he made of the fallen city location to hand off to Tulani. He'll also have to ask her to arrange a meeting with the actual Yodhbarada so he can discuss the Captain, but ... much to do before that. And the squirming that starts up lower in his ... well, really her gut reminds her of yet another one. "Yes, yes, I will try to pleasure myself later so that you feel 'satisfied' for a while. So demanding," she mutters, one hand on her lower gut as she wings her way 'home'.