Taahira had a few moments of sleep, mainly when Otto needed to recharge and defaulted to cuddle mode. Since he held her in his lap, she didn't need to use her arms to constantly keep her weight off of her ears from where they hung off of the statue of Gorphat's claws. During one of these breaks she must have fallen fully asleep, because when she woke up they were in the High Priestess' chambers. Her ears were bound back to her collar then, which was a little more comfortable. Otto was also less 'feral' about things. At least in the main part of the Temple, there was a chance of attractive new partners - since she needed at least three servants of Gorphat to 'reward' before she could feel satisfied.
The doe still isn't thinking terribly clearly. All she wants is another guy; the fact her ears hurt horribly is only a vague concept to her at the moment, including that they're pulled down to her neck in a submissive 'posture'. If she can, the doe rolls off the bed and tries to slink out of the room and make her way to one of the central altars where she might be able to lure some men to tend to her burning need.
Otto moans as Taahira slips away, but he's not in any condition to much more. It's probably going to be days before he's fully recovered.
It must be morning, from the low activity. But it also means the Eyes of Gorphat should be returning from their nightly explorations soon.
And yet the doe wants more. MORE. The lusty doe uses her nose to find her way to the main altar to Gorphat. She'll just lunge herself on the alray with her legs spread so that her scent can permeate and lure. Lewd creature; but Gorphat did make that the most active part of her mind.
Either this is really effective, or the timing is right. Foz arrives, looking bigger than before - but he eats better as an Eye of Gorphat than he did as just the leader of a gang of scavengers. "I'm here to.." he starts to say, before speech leaves him. He rushes over while trying to get his pants off, but leaves his green poncho on as he tackles the doe on the altar.
The doe licks her lips and gestures for him to join her. She even, ah, spreads herself with her hands as an extra invite! This, of course, is right before Fox is upon her. Once he is, her hips go into perfect lapi pistoning, taking the Eeee in a rush of her need. It's probably good she isn't super-aware like this; it's horribly degrading how much she's just a willing receptacle and reeking of hormones.
The need outweighs the discomfort of bouncing her hips up and down against a stone surface. Foz pins the doe's shoulders down with his hands and tries his best to keep up with her, which makes for some odd sounding echoes. The Eeee has just come from a patrol though, so doesn't have all the stamina he could (and Nikky knows just how much that could be). But the frenzy is enough to keep from snapping at Taahira's new jewelry out of hunger at least.
"This is horrible, degrading," the doe thinks in one of the rare moments of lucidity. Gorphat sure did a number, stripping the doe down to this, and now securing her ears into a pattern implying she does nothing but submit to others. Even Taahira knows that Gorphat is trying to break her. And then those concerns are gone one she's focused on the lovely feel of having someone inside her. She burbles and mumbles many things, most of them lewd and crude about how much she needs the Eeee.
Foz's pounding degrades to a rolling motion.. and then to shorter thrusts. He spent himself some time ago, but the effects of the 'blessing' keep him aroused despite the eventual discomfort. Carnal lust gives way, slightly, to other needs as the Eeee suckles greedily, with not a few pinches and bites. There's still one more to find on Taahira's quota though.. although in the past she never had any trouble working beyond that number.
The doe's concern is to squeeze this Eeee dry, so to speak, then find another. When Foz is done, she rolls him off onto the floor and lies back, spreading herself again. Nevermind she's got to be a frightful drippy mess after both Otto and Foz. What she loosk like doesn't matter, all that matters is filling that need. Every now and then her ears do pull at her collar, the tautness reminding her quickly that no, her ears are no longer hers to use; they're bound in honor of her Mistress, Gorphat. She is merely Gorphat's pet, existing to amuse the Goddess with her urges and antics.
When Foz doesn't return, it's only natural that the rest of his crew comes looking for him. The brothers, Slash and Shiv, arrive first. Slash knows what to do immediately, while Shiv, the slower one, joins in afterwards. At least the doe isn't on the stone.. she's on Slash, while Shiv's weight presses on her from behind so she feels squashed. The bigger, slower Eeee also licks at the exposed insides of her ears, which tickles terribly.
This is ... absolute heaven for the doe in her current state. She's so full in both ways. She makes all sorts of happy burbling noises about this as her body undulates and rolls (and various muscles and orifices work their occupants!). It's only the ear licking that tends to distract her from her urges, and that just means she gets bursts of lucidity to be mortified at what she's doing. Nikky may be Inala's whore, but Gorphat sure takes it in a new direction with Her version.
Slash completes Taahira's quota.. once he's done, she's free from the overpowering lust urge, at least to the point where she can think. Shedding Shiv is not so simple - the big Eeee never seems to know when to stop. He simply rolls the doe over and takes over where his brother left off, only now he can nurse as well, which seems to be his favorite thing anyway.
It's like a snap of reality when her mind comes back and she finds herself face to face with Shiv. She's sore; back and front ... and boy do her ears hurt ... and yet they still occasionally strain against their restraints. "Gods, I am nothing but Gorphat's pet," she thinks as she still rides the Eeee. In spite of being done, lapi hormones do keep her going with the Eeee; her body does still find something calming about having a male within her.
This time, it's the Eeee determined to wring the last drop from the Lapi. And wring he does, squeezing and massaging when the flow of milk dwindles. This also puts an end to his desire, mostly. Since the doe isn't putting out her lust-lure anymore, the big Eeee seems uncertain about what to do next. So he just stands over the doe.
The doe withdraws herself, extracting the Eeee from her body with a squelchy pop, the a rush of built up fluids from within her. She cowers a bit before the large Eeee, lower lip quivering. "You can go," she says in a strained voice; the strain likely due to her ears hurting bad ... and the large critter around her neck squeezing tight if her ears so much as twitch.
"Uhh," Shiv mutters, scratching his head and looking at the other two collapsed Eeee. "A'right," he says, and wanders off.
The doe draws her legs up to her chest and shivers. Every now and then a single hand reaches back and feels over her mangled ears; particularly the hole in them. "What have you done to me, Mistress?" the doe thinks, tears forming in her eyes.
The doe slips off the Altar once she recovers enough of her wits and moves quickly through the temple, back to the chambers of the high-priestess. She practically scurries there. Once she is in the room, she makes sure it is empty, then quickly closes and locks the door. It's only then that the quivering doe dares to go look into the mirror.
She looks in serious need of a bath. But now she can also see the dark streaks of crusted blood on her scalp and inside her ears, adding an extra layer of macabre design to the beetle heads and living centipede restraints.
Taahira turns so that she can better see her restrained ears. She reaches back to try and brush away some of the blood. As for needing a bath, part of her is accepting the state. Gorphat's properties rarely look very clean, after all.
With the ears locked to the collar, they look especially strange. The blood vessels look dilated, showing more green than blue and pink. Lapi ears aren't meant to bend like that, even the lop-eared sort don't curve backwards. It makes them look inside out - which is how they feel.
And in spite of herself, the Doe once again tries to get her ears freed from their painful restraints.
Touching the 'collar' makes it pinch with its too-numerous claws. It even hisses once. Stroking likewise does not relax the grip.
"Ow, ow," Taahira whines. She reaches up and taps at the centipedes going through her ears next. "Was this necessary, Mistress?" she asks the room. "I know I am yours."
"Then why do you resist?" the goddess whispers in.. well, in the doe's head, since her ears aren't really up to it at the moment. "Why do you not thank me for my gift?"
"I would if you were here," the doe thinks. "I would serve you and show you my love."
"Faith means you would do that without my presence," Gorphat notes. "Proper faith would have you do it with every breath."
"I don't know how," the doe admits in thought and ... well, she tries to hand her head. The secured ears prevent that.
"You are my High Priestess.. but your loyalty is divided," Gorphat laments. "I have to share you though. It is a cruel situation for me. Inala can share in her own way. Sunala.. well, death is selfish by nature. Penance still hasn't had the fear completely stripped from her yet, either."
"But you don't share this form. Nor do you share Nicora, whom is made in your honor. Every blessing you give her ... me, is a delight and a wonder. She cherishes them all," the Doe thinks as she sits on the bed and slowly swings her legs. "Even in the worst of Nicora's torments and blessings, her ... my love for you was total."
"Do you also love me then, my doe?" Gorphat asks. "Do you love me as much as the rat loves Inala?"
"You terrify me," the Doe admits in thought, quivering, "But yes, I love you. Like Nicora, even though your gifts make me suffer, I would not give them away. They bind me to you and remind me with every moment that I am special; your lapi pet. Like any pet, I love my owner completely. I want your touch, your torments. I want your scent to be part of me so that you are always with me." Crazy bunny.
"Good. That is proper. And the buck feels this way as well?" Gorphat asks next, her voice like oil.. and not the good kind.
"He does. He accepts the loss of his natural ... bits to have something more fitting of you instead,/" the Doe thinks as she reaches back to rub her aching ears again.
This time the ring-centipedes move a bit. "I improved him." Gorphat claims. "I have no use for you as the doe at the moment, however.." The centipedes release and uncoil, and even the beetle-heads unclamp their jaws. As the insect parts fall to the floor or scurry away, Taahira's ears flop down limply at the sides of her head.. but at least they aren't being tortured! The sensation is brief, however, as her fur falls out and her body distorts painfully to become Nicora again. Her ears still ache though.
"Ugh," Nicora winces and groans throughout the shift. Shifting without the shadow is /not/ comfortable/ at all. She takes a few breathes and waits until it feels like the shifts are done ... then she reaches up to feel at her ears. Why do they still ache?
They're whole, save for the familiar jewelry. Her tail also aches.. but that could also just be phantom pain.
Nicora gets up and goes to the mirror to look at her ears, just to be /sure. It'll also give her a chance to look at her /butt/ and the ugly tail that grows from it. "/Why do I still hurt after that? That isn't ... normal,/" the naked Eeee thinks, worried.
Nothing seems wrong with her ears.. although moving them around does cause a beetle head to fall out. Her tail looks the same as always.. until the head splits open four ways and 'yawns' with a multitude of tongues. Who knows what it will do around worms now..
Nicora squeals and spins around in circles, trying to escape her own tail for a few minutes. When she calms down enough to stop running, she checks, well, her other privates ... just to be sure that part of her is no nastier and swollen than normal.
Aside from her tail, there doesn't seem to be any other side effects from her recent 'blessings'.
"Mother ... what do you need of your daughter?" Nicora thinks as she kneels down in deference to the Goddess that permeates these halls. She tries to not think about the split-headed, multi-tongued tail behind her ... aside from twitching now and then.
"Check on Penance," Gorphat suggests. "You have been to see Sunala, so I am sure you have some task of hers to tend to eventually."
"That is all?" Nicora thinks. She checkedo n Penance a bit ago ... but can check on her again. So, she rises. "And yes, I do. A matter dealing with Amenlichti."
"That one steals from me as well," Gorphat hisses.
"She steals from everyone," Nicora thinks, frowns, and heads out of her chambers. Nude, of course. Nicora is almost always nude. She is used to it. Even if it does mean she leaves a dripping trail from, well, her swollen bits.
Next door in the Horrib Lair, Penance is.. upset? Shaking? She seems to be hugging her knees to her chest and moaning.
"Yodhgorphat?" Nicora asks, ears splayed out in confusion. "Are you hurt?" she asks, as she goes and places her hand on the Eeee's shoulder.
Penance jerks, as if started out of sleep. "High Priestess!" she yelps. "I.. can't.. stand up."
Nicora crouches down. "Er, why?" the High Priestess asks. She reaches out to part the girl's legs and look.
There's.. something there. It's pulsating, with four 'fingers' spreading out from a central orifice that keep it in place, plugging up the girl. "It.. keeps wiggling.." Penance says, a bit embarrassed.
Nicora reaches down, frowning, and tries to dislodge it. "I don't believe this..." she thinks.
It takes poking it in the orifice to get it to let go.. only to clamp onto Nicora's finger. At least it can be pulled out now though.
Nicora grimaces. Great, it's now stuck to her. She uses her other hand to brace penances and tries to pull the ... thing out of her. This is all her fault too; she agrees to this and lets Grophat do it.
The sounds is as bad as expected. Once free, the rogue phallus splits apart into four worm-like creatures which dangle from Nicora's finger.. and begin to whither away.
Penance breathes a sigh of relief, probably because she kept her eyes closed.
Nicora, in her usual demented way, tries to stuff the worms into /herself/ before they completely wither away! Why? Well, they /were part of her once. Or maybe she's just crazy. "It is over," she tells Penance. "Sorry about ... that."
It's the tail that acts.. snatching up the husks before Nicora can stash them away.
"That was.. it lasted a long time," Penance says, and smiles a bit.
Nicora grouches a bit about the tail. She sighs. "Was it at least enjoyable?" she asks of Penance. "Are you ... feeling better?"
"It was.. pretty nice.. just.. constant.." Penance says.
"Mother Gorphat keeps me perpetually aroused," Nicora points out and gestures to her swollen and oozing privates. "It is a challenge you must learn to deal with."
"So.. would it have kept up the wiggling and stuff if you hadn't gotten it out, or would it have gone all withery inside me?" Penance asks, standing up and wobbling a bit.
"I imagine it would have eventually burned out inside of you," Nicora says as she helps Penance to stand and collect herself.
"But it doesn't mean I'm gonna have another.. uh.. baby?" the newest Yodhgorphat asks.
"Oh, no," Nicora says, "You are done with that."
"Oh.." Penance says. "But didn't you.. Well, are there going to be more Yodhgorphats soon?"
"I wish Gorphat would allow me to carry again," Nicora says, sounding wistful. "As for more ... that depends on if you can recruit more. I will of course continue to try as well. Few ever wish to join, though."
"Do we kidnap them, or.. do people offer up their daughters to the Temple?" Penance asks. "I.. don't remember if I remember how it used to be done.."
"I think our best options are to recruit from the hospices. People should want to join, not be forced," Nicora says. "A desire to help, not fear or force."
"Well, the ones that recover from the bad stuff might be interested," Penance notes, tapping her chin. "Especially the ones that are disfigured by disease. They should be natural choices.."
"Do you consider us disfigured?" Nicora asks, her bare brow arched. "I feel honored to be so blessed by Gorphat..."
"Not us.. but.. for someone who is, wouldn't this be a good path?" Penance asks. "It'd be a badge then.. proof of surviving the challenge!"
"And they'd probably be a bit sympathetic to others too," the girl adds more quietly.
Nicora nods. "Good. You have the right attitude. That is the right direction, and for many it may be their only path given how others may scorn," the bare Eeee agrees. "Will you see about recruiting at the hospice here? I should deal with the more remote one. The Yodhblakat do not respect us, but they do fear me," she notes.
"Thank you, High Priestess!" Penance says, lighting up a bit at her first real responsibility as a Yodhgorphat. "Are we.. supposed to be feared?" she then asks.
"No. Not unless they are those that threaten us,/" Nicora says. "We need to be approachable by the populace."
"So.. it should just be those in authority that fearfully respect us then, as... protectors of the weak?" Penance asks.
Nicora considers this. "A reasonable general policy, yes," she agrees. "Within reason. We do not wish to be seen as an outright threat."
"Down here there isn't a lot of faith in authority," Penance says, and gestures towards the front of the Temple and the town beyond. "And.. I don't think we offer any authority, so.. they like us?"
"We offer help and support. We give, we do not generally take. Anything we get are donations," Nicora points out as she looks towards the front. "It isn't that we do not offer authority, it is more we listen to them and act for them."
"In Babel, that seems to be the definition of anti-authority," Penance says. "I guess that means we don't have to organize things? I mean.. most of that outside just self-assembled didn't it?"
"Well ... with some help and advice. It must come subtly, not from obvious edicts," Nicora points out. "We have to be smart about how we influence."
"You'll teach me then, won't you?" Penance asks, smiling.
"About ... being sneaky?" Nicora asks. "I am not an expert at it, but I can try. It is mostly about ... just making simple suggestions here and there. Aside comments made in passing."
"But how do I know what to suggest?" Penance asks. Then she blinks, as if in Epiphany. "Ah, of course. I don't! Gorphat will tell me, right?"
"Sometimes, yes. Sometimes you will know, too. If you see things that need help and you know ways it could be improved, suggest them quietly," Nicora offers and pats Penance' shoulder. "I also hear you are actively shaving? You wish to remain like me?"
"Well.. isn't that how Yodhgorphat are supposed to be now?" Penance asks, and looks down at herself. "My skin is black though.. so.. it isn't as dramatic as with yours.."
"They don't have to be like this if they don't choose it. It is all about how you wish to serve," Nicora offers. "Is there anything you need from me? If not I matters outside of the temple to attend to."
"Thank you for your advice," Penance says. "I'll go visit the hospice and see who might be good to approach about becoming a Yodhgorphat.."
"Keep me informed on your choices," Nicora requests. "And one more thing ... do you want to have more children?"
"I.. might want some of my own, if that's allowed," Penance asks.
"I do not have issue with it. You will have to ask Gorphat," Nicora admits. "That is entirely between you and her."
"And the father too," Penance says with a smirk.
"Depends on the father. I could ask Hosheb..." Nicora suggests.
"I was hoping for an Eeee," Penance admits.
"How dull," Nicora laments.
"Well.. Spider does have extra arms.." Penance points out.
"Well, that is less dull," Nicora has to agree as she heads for the exit. "The father is entirely your choice. Just don't let it affect your duties."
"Fare well in your errands, High Priestess!" Penance bids as Nicora leaves.
"I hope they will be successful," Nicora calls back.
The main entrance to the tower is, of course, near the top. A landing platform juts out from a sheltered overhang, where guards flank the large double doors. It's the first time Alptraum has seen it, having always visited in wingless forms previously.
A darkness darker than well night descends onto the landing platform. It's like a fog of inky blackness has rolled in upon the tower, engulfing the doors and the guards. All light, even that from close fires, disappears into the darkness. The guards can hear, though, and they hear the sounds of rings jangling together, perhaps. It's something clinking, that's for sure. Someone or Something may have landed on the platform.
"Who goes there!" the left guard calls out, tilting his halberd forward.
Two silver eyes appear in the darkness. "That which comes for everyone ... eventually," a voice intones. It comes with a feeling, a weight. It's the kind you get when it feels like someone is staring at you ... or as if you were a child and your Parents just caught you doing something you shouldn't. "I am called the Barsunala by title, but those that know me generally just call me Alptraum." The shadows withdraw, drawing in on that point, those eyes. The guards find them standing on the platform with a lanky and somewhat muscular Eeee dressed all in rolling shadow and with a flowing mane of white hair. "I seek an audience with the Mages on a matter of import to Babel," he says.
The two guards seem frozen. "D-do you have an... appointment?" the one on the left asks, only to jump when one of the doors opens behind him. A second tall, dark figure steps out onto the platform, with almost the same build as the visitor. "Yes, of course the Barsunala has an appointment," Mage Cyprian says. "We've been expecting him." He then bows to Alptraum, before gesturing into the tower. "If you'll come with me?"
Alptraum arches his brow. "An informal appointment, yes. No one wants a formal appointment with me," he points out, looking mildly amused at the reaction from the guards. He isn't surprised at all that Cyprian isn't the least bit surprised, or impressed ... they have to be used to tricks like that by now. "That is usually my line, you know," he tells Cyprian as he accepts the request to follow.
"Well, can't let the guards think we aren't on top of things," Cyprian whispers to Alptraum as they enter the Guild Hall. "But you've been seen in public recently, so I did expect you to show up eventually and claim the sacrificial jar your confederate left with us."
Alptraum makes a face. "That ... thing. It makes my skin crawl ... and that is saying something," he comments as he glances to Cyprian. "Truth be told, I am surprised you would willingly give it to me. Or for that matter, speak with one such as I."
"You are the one that acquired it," Cyprian says. "You visited the Yodhrephath. I know there was an old shrine to Diphath on Mt. Rephath that was one of the anchors of the Dream Ritual. You and the Shrine Maiden appeared at roughly the same time, so I do not think it unreasonable to think you are working together. Am I correct?"
"It is not an unreasonable assumption, no," Alptraum notes, "But do understand that me last direct dealing with the Mages Guild did have them attempting to capture and imprison me. Granted, this was years ago now. But, times make strange bedfellows as the phrase sometimes go ... so I came in hopes we can work together."
"We are already making preparations for defending the city against madness attacks," Cyprian explains, leading Alptraum through a side passage and down a narrow set of spiralling steps. "The Shrine Maiden was invaluable in that. As for the jar.. we have learned some things about it, but have not been able to put it to its original suspected use." There's a dark hall at the end of the stairs.
"I may be able to help you with some of that," Alptraum says and holds up his right hand as they walk. The shadow withdraws to expose the rather unpleasant result beneath it. "I may have had some contact with the fluids it once helped channel. Or at least something very similar. I have no intention that the jar be used, but if information can be gleaned on how to combat its effects, that is valuable."
Cyprian knocks on a door, and says, "We could have a Life Mage look at that.." Before he can say more however, the door is thrown open by a black Naga woman wearing a white robe. "What iss thiss?" she hisses, and cranes her neck to look around Cyprian at Alptraum.
"Rostre, this is the Barsunala," Cyprian introduces. "Barsunala, this is Rostre of the Sphere of Spirit."
"I thought you would be sshorter," the Naga comments.
"Boo," Alptraum deadpans. "I have come for your soul ... but sadly you have no shoes."
The Naga's tongue flicks a few more times. "Ah, I 'get it'. Hah. Forgive me, laughing gives me a headache," she says, and scutes out of the way. Cyprian enters the room first.
"People usually tell me my jokes are dead," Alptraum comments as he follows Cyprian in the room. "And why did you think I would be shorter?"
"Because Sunala is short," Rostre comments. The room is made of black stone, with various talismans hanging in the corners and arcane circles and glyphs covering the walls. A circle on the floor has a candle-stand in the center, which is serving to hold the strange jar. There's a pale blue glowing substance slowly oozing through the gashes on the side of it.
"Well, the fates decreed that Cyprian could not be the only tall and spooky Eeee. Therefore, I am tall. And better looking," Alptraum quips, then grins toothily. He circles the jar, staying outside of the ring drawn on the floor. "What exactly are you trying to do with it?" he asks as he tries to extend any senses available to him, including Scourge's, as well as the Shrine Maidens, if he can.
Whatever is in the jar.. isn't alive. Or even a living spirit. Rostre pulls a thin cigar from her robe and lights it on one of the many candles. After a few puffs, she says, "Trying to make it work. But.. imposssible. It wass meant to create necroplassssm, but blood cannot be used for it. Nothing normal can be used. However.." She pauses to blow a smoke ring, then continues, "It does render down Sspirits into mundane ectoplassm. With the proper ritual, it iss possible that the spirit of a ssacrificial victim could be rendered down for cultisssts to drink."
"Such things tend to cause insanity in the non-vampiric," Cyprian adds, since insanity is more within the Sphere of Mind.
"No one can really argue that the cultists were sane," Alptraum points out as he continues to circle the jar. "Why do you want it to work, anyway?" he inquires. "The creatures used to feed this thing are long gone."
"To ssee if they got it to work," Rostre claims, leaning against a side table as she smokes. "I am confident now that they did not. No undead created here in Babel by it. Distilling ssspirits iss more likely. Or trapping them."
Alptraum holds out his right hand in front of the serpent's face. "In case you wish to examine something, well, close," he suggests. "As for trapping a spirit, that brings me to the reason for my visit. I need to trap two. While yes I can direct and collect spirits, it is difficult for me to contain them while dealing with distractions," he explains. "The two specifically may actually be anchors for Amenlichli to make herself known... and I do not wish her to have such anchors to use."
"Living or dead?" Rostre asks.. and then licks Alptraum's hand.
"Dead," Alptraum says, then makes a face at being licked. "I can ... extract them. I want to contain them."
"Interessssting flavor" the Mage notes. "Spiritss of dead sshould not be problem for jar. Unlesss you need to recover them afterwardss?"
"I may. They are specifically the former Sabaoth and High Priestess," Alptraum notes grimly. "And why did you lick me?"
"I have a sssensitive tongue," Rostre claims, and blows smoke from her nostrils. "Time isss a factor. Spirits in jar.. break down. To ectoplasssm. Two together melt into each other, maybe. We haven't tried with real sspirits, obviously. Only conjured ones."
"Do you have any less destructive approaches?" Alptraum inquires as he draws his right hand back. "I could in theory put them in someone, but ... that's a violation of self I wouldn't want to do. There are some things, while possible, really shouldn't be done. Yes, amazing, I have morals and ethics."
"You are from Ssylvania, yesss?" Rostre asks, rolling her cigar between the fingers of one hand.
"Actually, I was born here. I was raised in Sylvania," Alptraum corrects. "I thought I managed to mask the accent by now."
"You are too tall for Babel," Rostre claims. "Ssylvania.. they have the ssecret of making sspirit houses. Boxes. You know thiss technique?"
"I know of them. Godboxes they were called. 'Homes' for spirits. I had to catch one that escaped and ... " Alptraum says, sighs and rubs his forehead. "I suppose I have no use for dignity. I had to extract the wayward spirit from a Brothel where it was pinching the behinds of patrons."
"How do they work?" the Naga asks. "Ssomething personal, yess? Remains, posssssessions of the deceased? An anchor for the haunt."
"I believe that is correct. Something that ties them to this world and in a form that is comfortable for them. An odd way to describe it, but think of a doll house for the dead," Alptraum offers. "Spirits are drawn by persistent memory in an object after all."
Rostre takes a long draw on her cigarello, then lets the smoke trickle out through her nostrils. "You bring me these things," she says. "Personal things, long used things. Bonesss if you can. I will make for you spirit trapss."
"And the cost to me will be?" Alptraum inquires next.
"What iss it worth to you?" Rostre asks. "Demi-gods don't carry cash, do they?"
Cyprian clears his throat, and looks sternly at the Naga.
"The only thing under the cloak is me," Alptraum points out. "I have contacts and allies that I can ask favors of. I can destroy the undead. I can invade dreams in some cases. I can even permit you to examine me if you wish."
"How about.. if traps work, you bring them back to me for further sstudy?" Rostre asks. "I deal with Spirits.. but you have ssomething related about you that you think I would find interesssting? Curiousss. But.. this room.. no spirits get out of it. Ssafe place to keep them."
"Quick way to cancel out undead could be very useful, for insstance, if it can be copied," the mage notes.
"I carry with me a purgatory of the spirits of immortals that were devoured by a dragon," Alptraum notes. "As for the undead, my contact is usually enough to make an undead burst into green flame. I am the ultimate undead allergy."
Rostre sets her jaw such that her cigar flicks upward, causing the ash to fall off onto the floor. "Thisss would take many visits, I think. I would like to ssee these things. Yesss."
"The purgatory one, I should warn, is guarded by a created spirit that has both ego and attitude," Alptraum notes. "And a level of sarcasm that can wither the oldest and most curmudgeonly this place could offer."
"Hmmm, alssso worth sstudying," the Naga says. "Only long-time familiarss develop.. personality.. but thiss is bleed through from the caster."
"And of course, this," Alptraum says and holds up his right hand. "This is the result of tangling with, and containing, the Shadow of Amena."
"A spirit creature?" Rostre asks, and actually reaches out this time with her hands to feel the odd surface. "Can't be undead flesh.. if you exorcisse the undead by touch.."
"A former Shadow Dragon, enslaved by Amenlichti. Battles between it and the Light of Nala are the source of a few of the world's Forbidden Zones," Alptraum explains and shrugs a bit. "Its exact composition eludes me."
"I am unfamiliar with Sshadow Dragon," Rostre notes. "You will have to explain it all further.. after we trap spirits of tyrants."
"It seems a bit steep to get all my secrets for just containing two spirits," Alptraum points out.
"Sabaoth.. very interesssting case," Rostre notes. "Passsing through so many bodies. What would hisss spirit look like? And what ssecrets would you like examined? You maybe have questions about yourself?"
"Oh I have plenty, but I also have concerns discussing them with a group that once tried to inflict serious harm upon me," Alptraum admits. "No offense, but it is a lot that I came here so that we can work together for the betterment of the city. I am not quite comfortable revealing too much about myself."
"You don't trussst me?" Rostre asks, not changing her expression in the slightest. "I do not desserve to be painted by a broad brush jussst because you had a bad experience with some other mages."
"I don't know you. I trust the Avenger as I know him, more or less," Alptraum notes and points towards Cyprian with his thumb. "But others ... not quite yet."
"It isn't becausssse I am creepy then?" Rostre asks pointedly. "The otherss say I am creepy. Jusst because of the licking.. and that I stay down here. And possibly because I lurk in ssshadows."
"The smoking is a bit offputting," Cyprian adds.
"I deal with Death," Alptraum points out. "You are mundane in comparison. So, no, you are not creepy to me."
"Really?" the Naga asks, smiling smokily. "Want to get together for drinks sometime?"
"I cannot exactly go to a bar for drinks," Alptraum notes. "The populace tends to not react all that well to my presence."
"I have my own sssupply of.. spirits.." Rostre says. "I cannot go out except for work. People complain about all the crying children.."
"Did you need the jar back?" Cyprian interrupts. "I'm sure Rostre can clean the ectoplasm out of it.."
"You just want to try and get me drunk so you can examine me," Alptraum comments, brow raised.
Rostre hmms. "I've never tried that before," she admits. "Does it work?"
"You can keep the jar for now. I would rather attempt to build a non-destructive container before using that," Alptraum offers and glances to Cyprian. "Besides, I imagine you would prefer it if the Shrine Maiden came to collect it instead of me, hmm?"
"No," Alptraum tells Rostre. "But, I will keep the offer of drinks in mind. I may take you up on it."
"I.. don't need an excuse to see the Shrine Maiden," Cyprian claims.
"No?" Alptraum asks Cyprian.
"Perssonal objects, bones.. you know what to get," Rostre reminds Alptraum. "Sabaoth should be easssy. He must have favorite bauble that he kept for centuries."
"No," the Mind Mage insists to Alptraum.
"I'll be sure to tell her that," Alptraum notes.
"Sure, if I knew him. I know those who did, though. I can find something," Alptraum confirms to Rostre.
"I begin work on structuresss," the Naga says gleefully, and turns to one of the tables full of.. stuff. There seems to be an awful lot of animal parts and things in jars for a Spirit mage. Unless she dabbles in taxidermy too.
"Just don't use any of your own eggs, please. That would be disturbing," Alptraum comments. To Cyprian, he adds, "I suppose I have taken enough of your time today. I should be going. I cannot imagine the rest of the mages here are particularly comfortable with my presence."
"Most are too busy to have noticed," Cyprian claims. "But I will show you out the same way we came."
"Oh? I could make them notice," Alptraum notes as he nudges his presence 'pressure' just a bit. That sort of dread that comes from being stared at by a hungry dragon kind of feeling for a second or two. "But I suppose I will behave for now," he relents. "Provided, of course ... you tell me all about the things you have done with the Shrine Maiden. She refuses to tell me..."