Chambers of the High Priestess
Unlike certain of her Sisters, Gorphat is not known for ostentation. The apartment within the Temple of Gorphat has its own bathroom, which sets it apart from the others, even if that just means there's a special closet for the chamber pot. It might also be slightly dryer, and have higher ceilings, but otherwise it has the same rough-hewn look combined with a bit of masonry to fill in the gaps - so long as it doesn't disturb the organic feel of the place.

Nicora had never had to use a chamberpot before, but was a quick learner over the course of the next day. She was downright anemic after the intense menstruation, but once the worst was over, Otto didn't mind being bitten while 'pumping' her. Something about blood excites the big rat, so even after he was able to milk Nicora normally he kept on pumping.

The Eeee's cranial tendrils had grown considerably as well, until they were now a foot long. While textured like her scars for the first inch, the rest of the length was pale green with glowing spots and stripes. When her heart got going, the light pulsed along their length in waves, which Otto said was very pretty.

The downside is that the tendrils on her head have weight, which feels downright odd when she turns her head and the flop around. That, if nothing else, is motivating the Eeee to try and figure out if she can keep them from flopping around ... and resist the urge to cut the bloody things off! The pumping from the rat is also nice ... even if, well, it hurts as usual. Gorphat has steadily trained her to like exceedingly painful intercourse, or at worst, accept it as perfectly normal and something to be endured almost daily. So, right now she's riding the rat while her nethers burn ... and she drinks from his shoulder. And of course the tendrils keep lightly slapping the side of her face. At least they aren't slimy.

The light show is a bit distracting though, when one of the tendrils flops across her face. At least she's a good view in the mirror, after having gotten Otto positioned right beneath her. It's awkward, but the rat doesn't seem to mind. He's probably given enough blood by now that it's going to come down to either maintaining his ardor or feeding his brain soon, however.

Nicora quits feeding and continues riding the rat. Why? She's actually trying to climax. Yes, it means a wave of intense pain, but she is somehow convinced it'll honor Gorphat to endure it. It's disturbing like she's trying to feed her womb off the male. Why? Yodhgorphat. They're a bit unhinged.

The climax arrives before Otto can completely exhaust himself. The rat makes a rattling noise in his throat, and actually falls asleep under Nicora. The pleasure is brief before the clenching pain kicks in, however.

Nicora's head bows and she groans. It's the kind of sound someone in intense pleasure makes ... yet she's in intense pain. She doesn't completely lose herself, though, she works quickly to pull off the rat before the clenching actually hurts him!

Without the distraction of the amorous rat, Nicora notices the smell in the chamber. She can see in the mirrors that her breasts are back to their normal swollen sizes now, but it's probably her new 'hair' that draws her attention the most. With the pain she's feeling, they seem to pulse in waves of red now instead of green.

Nicora actually feels her breasts, starting from her lower belly, and working her way upwards as she looks into mirror. "I am certainly ... unique," she admits to herself in the mirror.

Nicora's ears twitch now too, the Eeee looking confused. Her brow furrows as she tries to focus attention on her new 'headpendages', just to see if she can make them twitch by trying.

Twitching the ears causes the tendrils to twitch as well. She can feel them a bit more now, and they seem to react to her ear movements.

Not only does Nicora play with her ears now by moving them all about, she reaches up to fondle the tendrils, wondering how they feel. As in, how they feel to be touched and stroked, and how it feels to touch them to her fingers.

The more she touches them, the more sensitive they become. To the touch, they feel a bit like rubbery Skreek tails.

Oddly fascinated by then now, Nicora keeps playing around with them. She even squeezes them now and then. To test the feel, and to, well, make sure they don't squirt, or something.

Squeezing causes them to glow where compressed, but also gives a good feel of their structure. They seem to be muscled without any sort of support.. like actual tentacles.

Nicora quits fiddling with them with her fingers and instead focuses on trying to move them by themselves ... somehow. "There are certainly lewd usages for these," the Eeee thinks. They're something Inala might even like!

Various things move as Nicora tries to sort out the muscles. Her tail whips about at first, then the first tendril.. curls, while the second corkscrews.

Nicora actually reaches back and holds her tail still while she tries to focus on her head adornments and just them moving. Plus, it'll keep the bloody tail from biting her.

The tendrils go through seemingly random gyrations and shapes. Some curl up into spirals, other twist about, and one tries to go up her nose. But the more she tries, the more she can feel the muscles in them, at least.

"Ackpth," goes Nicora as she bats the one away from her nose! These are ... frustrating! She can move them, but not really control what they do yet. It's probably going to take practice.

Otto rolls over on his side and curls up, snoring. It does remind Nicora that a full day has passed and then some, and Alptraum is expected at the Mage's Guild sometime today to inspect the spirit traps.

Nicora rubs her chin, though. Debating if she should serve the Temple a bit more before departing for the Mage's guild. She could go out to the main altar and become the doe to 'serve' people in the outside town for a bit, before going over to the guild, perhaps. It'll certainly distract his mind from fretting too much over the guild, that is.

At least she knows that she can become the doe on her own, without Gorphat forcing the change. The challenge is in making it to the main altar without being intercepted.

Knowing Nicora needs to still prove her dedication to Gorphat to a degree, especially if she wants Gorphat to honor her request of letting her breed again, she drops down to all fours. Once there, she focuses on trying to shift into the doe without disappearing completely in shadow. In other words, so that she can feel the changes take her body, as uncomfortable as they are. Few would willingly turn themselves into a mostly feral, lust-driven, pet creature of a Goddess, but this is to help prove her faith to her Mother.

It's difficult to stay conscious during this sort of transformation, but one thing doesn't really change: her hearing. So once things reach the halfway point, she can hear the scurrying of insects approaching. By then the transformation is running itself, and once she 'snaps' into the doe, she can already feel the beetles and centipedes crawling up her legs and back as they head for her ears.

"Oh Gods, they did come back! the doe thinks in horror. She also remembers what she was told about enduring ... so the doe bites down on her lower lip ... and folds her ears back against her neck ahead of time. She knows the pain that is coming, the deafness, and the humiliation of forced-submit ears, but she tries her hardest to try to not run in horror or bat the bugs away! She hopes maybe if she doesn't struggle, it'll hurt less?

It's a challenge to keep from biting through her lip, as the centipedes form a collar around her neck. The doe's long ears are pulled together while the beetles sacrifice their heads (and jaws) to suture them together, which isn't as bad as the centipedes chewing holes in the tips of them. It's ten minutes of agony, ending in her ears being forced into an uncomfortable bend as the tips are secured to the collar.

Amazingly, the doe does not scream, but she does cry! But wow, does her body shake all over as she ensures what feels like endless minutes of unbelievable pain! She has no idea how she would ever be able to endure this without reacting in some way. Her cheeks are soaked with her tears when the centipede around her neck hisses loudly, then locks her ears down painfully and tightens to the point of almost feeling like she's being choked ... so she can never forget it is there. She stays as the doe for a few days or more, that her ears would permanently heal together at the tips, crippling them even without the bugs. It's good this is only for a couple hours. It's a strain, but the doe gets to her feet and tries to walk her way out of the chambers and to the altar before her mind completely disappears into the animal. She can already feel the heat of her loins and the swelling beginning ... not to mention smell the intense musk she's emanating.

It's an arduous journey, given the number of times she seems to lose her way. But she does make it to the main altar! Of course, nobody is there. So she just has to wait until her musk lures someone in.

"Focus, focus, main chamber," The doe thinks over and over as her mental faculties dim a little with each step. When she reaches the main chamber, she's down to walking on all fours with how far her mind has faded. She crawls up onto the Altar and sits on the edge. She doesn't lay backwards because of her ears, but instead sits there with her hands between her legs. She's spreading this form's 'Wound' open lewdly to help with her release of her musk. She's also already panting and rather glassy eyed. Her mind? She knows her ears hurt horribly, and she knows she needs to be pounded and filled over and over. That's about the extent of her thought complexity given her level of hormones now. Gorphat's lewd and Inala mocking pet, waiting to be filled in all ways and all openings.

Just as her urges are bordering on painful, her limited hearing picks up "... check the altar, we'll try and find Fon.." A few moments later, Francis the Skreek enters the sanctum, wearing his poncho with the green Eye of Gorphat on it. "High.." he starts to say, until the built up pheremones rob him of speech. He trips several times while trying to get his pants off as he rushes to the altar. Once there he grabs the does legs and raises them up, dragging her to the edge of the altar, where he takes her while standing on his toes. "P-p-p-p.." he chitters as he pumps madly. It's a twist on the lust aura granted by Inala.. just one that is completely uncontrolled and primal.

The doe immediately wraps her arms and legs around Francis! Feeling the rat enter is like giving a starving person some food. She moves with him in a ravenous, needy, way. The movement makes her ears hurt all the more, but it doesn't stop her. The ear pain is nothing compared to the all-consuming need driven from between her legs!

Skreeks have amazingly short refractory periods, but Francis is neither large or possessed of great stamina. After thirty minutes of effort, he's spent. But even as he collapses, stronger hands grab onto the doe and flip her over onto her belly, so that her legs are dangling down the side of the altar. She can tell it's Foz, the leader of the former gang turned watchmen. He uses the doe's warped ears as a handle, grabbing on with both hands as he pounds into her. It's painful on the legs, banging into the stone of the altar with each thrust, as well and dragging her nipples across the surface.. but that's minor compared to the ear pulling.

This makes the doe cry out as she braces herself on the altar as much as she can with her arms to limit the rough draggong of her check and belly. But oh Gods, the holding and pulling of her ears! It's like they're being secured and eaten through, all over again! It's almost impossible for her to even feel that the Eeee is buried deep inside her with the screaming agony in the top of her head and at the tips of her ears! "Mother..." the poor doe thinks, a one word thought, to the one that cursed her so.

The pain seems to go on forever, and lingers even after she finds herself on her back again. Instead of feral ravishing, her newest suitor suckles on her breasts instead, and actually massages them. It also helps with the soreness. It must be Shiv, the orally fixated one who isn't very bright.

The doe is grateful, and even groans softly. She fumbles a bit as her hands and feet try to position Shiv so that he enters her. Whether she manages this, or even gets, well, the right passage, remains to be seen! It's hard to guide someone when mostly animal in mind and unable to see over them suckling on her!

Eventually Shiv gets the idea, and slides into the doe. He's in no mad rush though, keeping a relatively gentle pace. The breast milk might have a calming effect on him.. and he only stops sucking to kiss the doe. It's during those times that he picks up his pace, but once the doe's breasts start to jiggle he remembers them and goes back to squeezing, kneading and suckling and his more sedate, pleasant pace.

And this drives the doe nuts! While, yes, the nursing is nice, her body wants the hard pounding! So, she's squirming about and trying everything she can to work Shiv harder, including wrapping her legs about him and trying to increase his pace!

The big Eeee grunts, and speeds up. He has to really squeeze to keep a grip on the doe's breasts though, and ends up pulling her nipples as he picks up the pace. Though, eventually, he abandons them to just kiss the doe as he finds the best groove for maximum effect.

The nipple pulling hurts, but still not nearly as much as her ears still do! So, for that, the doe is grateful for the distraction of her ear-pain. When the kiss begins instead, the doe kisses back! She uses tongue, too, which is impressive given the large teeth she has to work around. But, she seems much happier when the big Eeee starts going at her more at the pace her body is demanding.

With a great sigh, Shiv reaches release. He shudders, but instead of collapsing like the others, just goes back to gently nursing until he's ready to go again. This, however, does clear the doe's head a bit, so that she can think coherently again.

It's always a shock when her mind returns ... and the wave of embarrassment that hits her is equally strong. She's just rutted three men while having the mind of a beast. There is no there way to feel about that other than degraded. "I hope I have ... honored you by willingly embracing your ... gifts to this form, Mother," the prays as she strokes the back of Shiv's head. Her ears still throb hotly in pain, too, but it's at least not as sharp as when the bugs first eat and position themselves.

After a few more minutes of suckling, Shiv begins again.. at his own pace. He still doesn't rut, but actually seems to make love.. and tries to make it feel good for the doe as well.

And the doe appreciates this. Without the drive, she can take a slow and easy pace too. It would be a good thing to finish off a horrible session of being Gorphat's lust beast with an actual tender moment of one more mating. She's encouraging, kissing, gentle, and hugging, of the large Eeee. It actually does feel good, which is a novel thing for a Gorphat-owned form.

When she does reach her reward, it's not intense or explosive, but gentle and drawn out.. enough to make her legs quiver. "Want carry somewhere?" the big Eeee asks afterwards.

"No, I have other ... duties now," the doe whispers, then kisses Shiv on the forehead. "Thank you, though," she adds softly, and smiles.

Shiv kisses her on the mouth, then both nipples, then down below before staggering back and sitting down to take a nap with his zonked out comrades.

And the doe slides off the altar. This is where she decides to prove herself more ... by going through the back temple to the secret exit ... as the doe. This will challenge her instinctive fears. She also has to make several stops on the way to collect things; a small iron knife and box from storage, for one ... to the stranger and definitely Gorphat-linked visit to the slime pool to collect a large worm. This, well, will go inside her so that for the remaining part of the walk to the exit through the dank and terrifying passages, her wound and worm will be squirming. Fears of monsters around while a monster inside. The doe is really trying to push her limits.

Nothing stops her, although some of the obstacles are trickier to negotiate without wings or the ability to grab things with one's feet. She makes it out while the afternoon is still unwilling to give up the day to evening.

Once outside, the doe squats down so she can extract the worm (if possible) from within her. Sure, she can shift with it in her (and has before), but the doe's instincts would rather have it out! She's pushed her limits, but it has left her shaking badly.

The worm squirms about in resistance, but still isn't exactly strong. It comes out and dangles from the girl's paw.

The doe eyes the worm and tries to not heave. This body is so much more ... delicate in what it can endure seeing. As much as she wants to throw that thing away ... her shaking hand lowers and she pushes it right back into her body ... and feels it squirm back up and into her deeply. If she could splay her ears, boy would she. There she just draws a breath and goes to all fours to disappear into the shadow before she has to feel it squirm around within her too much longer (hopefully). Time to become Alptraum.

When the shadow recedes, there isn't any sensation of internal squirming for Alptraum this time. The worm may have been ejected.. or simply absorbed.. by the shadow as 'unimportant' extra biomass.

Alptraum breathes out. The Eeee quickly dresses in the clothing he keeps stashed near the secret entrance to Gorphat's temple. "Time to visit the guild and collect the traps," he mutters to himself. Once dressed, he picks up the small sack (to carry the traps in, which also carries the small box with the non-descript iron knife in it. What he intends for that ... time will tell.).

The guards at the Guild Hall are either expecting Alptraum, or know he's on the approved list.. or else just don't want to upset him. They open the doors as soon as he lands on the platform. He doesn't have to go very far before Cyprian meets him, right in the reception area. A Rhian woman wearing a fancy tiara is at the reception desk, does some sort of flourishing hand motion in greeting. "Rostre hasn't left her lab since your last visit," Cyprian notes to Alptraum, before guiding him to the stairs. "She seldom does leave in any case, though."

"At all? That is ... worrying," Alptraum admits to Cyprian after he greets the receptionist. His eyes linger on the tiara, but he doesn't ask what it is supposed to mean.

"Spirit Mages tend to be.. eccentric.. often," Cyprian notes. "Either in personality or physically. I'm never sure how much is just an act to make them seeming mysterious though." The stairs spiral down the tower, with a door on each level.. usually open onto empty halls. The Guild Hall is not overly staffed it seems. Eventually they get to the level of Rostre's lab, where her assistant-novice waits outside the door. She bows to both of the men.

Alptraum returns the bow to Rostre, perhaps out of politeness. "You were right," he admits, "I have returned. His attention then has to shift to Cyprian for a moment. "I need to speak with you later," Alptraum notes to Cyprian, his tone a bit grim. "If you will allow it."

"Just ask to be brought to my office when you're ready," Cyprian says. "I am at your disposal."

"I still respect limits and duties, none-the-less. Thank you," Alptraum says, then turns back to the naga mage. "I hope the work has not caused you undue stress," he says.

Rostre blinks, which is rare enough in Naga. Her robe is hanging open and there are some empty cages piled up in a corner - the equivalent of dirty dishes for a Naga. "Yess! I knew you would return," claims.

The Spirit Mage gestures to two half-empty wine-bottles on her workbench. "Sleep? Ah.. yes.. sleep.. I will make a note to do that.." she mutters.

"May I enter?" Alptraum asks politely. He is impressed she is still upright after no sleep and a fair amount of drinking.

Cyprian bows and makes his exit. And probably just because of the strong reptilian odor of the lab.

Alptraum enters, then closes the door behind himself for privacy. He sets his transport sack down as he asks, "Where the traps difficult to construct? Where are they?"

"Difficult? Well.. not to construct.. physically," the Mage notes. "Just.. had to do a bit of research. And testing of course. Had to dump that bottle afterwards though. Gah, vinegar.." She gestures again to the two half-full wine bottles. "There they are!"

"Booze? They were both drinkers, then?" Alptraum asks as he goes to examine the bottles closer. He leans in to examine them with all senses, but does not yet touch.

"What? Well, I suppose the Sabaoth was," Rostre says, rubbing her chin and flicking her tongue. "But that's.. uh.. beside the point. The personal items you provided have been infused into the wine. Spiritually. Did you know personal things can have a spirit? What am I saying, of course you know that! But.. uh.. where was I? Oh, the wine.. Yes. Just.. uncork them, and put the spirits inside, and seal them up! They'll stay put until you 'decant' them again. Very simple really.. the tricky part is moving the spirit, but you can do that. It's what you do after all! I had to use a spell for the test, but it's basically the same thing."

"You replicated Mephisto Wine then," Alptraum muses, something he is familiar with from his travels. "And yes, I can move spirits reasonably easy; even those that get combative about it."

"Now, you just have to be sure to use the right bottle for the right spirit," Rostre says, bobbing her head. "It's.. uh.. hmmm." She scratches the side of her head in thought, peeling off a layer of shedding skin. "The plum wine is the Sabaoth. Yes.. I'm certain. And the.. not-plum.. wine is for the Princess."

Alptraum reaches over and helps peal the skin. "Why the different wine types? Was that also personal, or just to be able to tell them apart?" he asks. Now he even dares to risk sniffing the wine-traps.

"Well, plum-wine is a lot more sugary.. and the Sabaoth had a sweet tooth," Rostre says, blinking a bit as Alptraum peels off some of her skin.. as if she hadn't realized it was time for her shed. "The red wine is more.. princessy.." There's enough aroma coming from the corks to tell the difference. Plus the plum-wine has a crude version of the Sabaoth's Eye drawn on the label with colored wax.

Alptraum makes sure the bottles are well-sealed, then goes about packing them into the travel sack carefully. "Well, thank you again for your time on this," the Eeee says, "It is appreciated."

"I have a third bottle prepared if you want to practice," Rostre notes, and produces a bottle of something very dark.

The serpent flicks her tongue, before saying, "Why, me of course. I prepared this bottle for myself. Just to make sure your method of spirit moving will work with the enchantment."

"You want me to imprison you?" Alptraum has to ask, just to be sure. This naga is certifiably insane.

"Well.. it has to be tested.." Rostre points out. "And I can see if there are any flaws in the prison, as it were, from the inside. It's not the first time I've done this, either. Most Spirit Mages go through a sort of initiation involving their spirit being put into a candle flame, you see."

"I rather doubt my approach will feel even close to that," Alptraum warns, "But, as you like. Open the trap and I will begin." And to begin, well, that means focusing on and feeling the wraith; the terrifying aspect of the Barsunala itself. That needs to be brought forward enough in Alptraum so that he can see, and take, the Mage's spirit form. Hopefully he won't terrify the mage doing this.

"Ah, one more thing!" Rostre says, and goes to a cabinet.. which doesn't have what she's looking for. After a few more searches, she comes up with a five-minute sand glass. "I can do 20 minutes, but.. I'm pretty stretched at the moment, so if I can't free myself in 15 minutes, you'll have to pop the cork and be ready to pull me out if I don't reanimate."

"All right," Alptraum agrees. "You do understand this could be very dangerous, yes?"

The Naga sets the timer on the table, uncorks the bottle (which smells pretty high-proof) and sets it on the workbench. She then coils up under herself in the Naga equivalent of 'crossing her legs' and says, "Alright, ready! I'm sure that I'm in the best hands for this.. and if you have to, just break the bottle."

"Right," Alptraum says. He draws in a deep breath and as he lets it out, he tries to bring the wraith forward so that he can see the Naga in the right 'way', so to speak. And so that he can grab her in the right way too, and it's not really a nice one.

Things go silvery. Rostre looks different in this light - much brighter than she should. It must be because she's a Spirit Mage.. and has been exposed to lots of Spirit Magic as a result. The bottle also seems to resonate with her spirit somewhat.

Alptraum reaches out with hand and, well, horrib singer-hand as his odder eyes narrow and he focuses on just the spirit aspect of that mage. A touch, then he dries to draw it away from the physical body as someone would un-knit a sweater by pulling a thread. "Do not resist," Alptraum says, his voice definitely sounding ... off.

He didn't expect it to feel sticky. Rostre's spirit is also heavy for some reason. It takes some effort to really pull it out of the body without stretching it.

Alptraum doesn't force it. He figures it must have to do with the mage still being, well, alive. So, slow and steady as he tries to extract the naga's spirit, then carefully funnel it through the open top of the bottle.

The latter is easy - as soon as the spirit is close to the open neck of the bottle, it just sort of pours into it like mercury. The tail tip even gives a little wiggle it slides in. Now it just has to be corked.

Alptraum has to use his only normal hand to find the cork and try to shove it into the top of the bottle. Only once he has it corked can he let the wraith fade and resume just being Alptraum ... as well as turn the timer for the first five minutes. "This mage is trusting of me," he thinks, "I could have just as easily hurt her."

Rostre's body stays upright but unmoving.. although it's clearly breathing, if slowly. Which offers a certain opportunity: can a spiritless body be kenned?

Alptraum glances at the timer. Then back to the body. He hmms softly ... then unable to resist the opportunity, he tries to engulf the mage in shadow and ken her. One eye is always kept on the timer, though; he cannot lose track.

The shadow pours forth.. and passes right through the Naga as if she wasn't there. Alptraum can feel the shadow searching, and there's a vague sensation of resistance rather than touch, as if the body were insubstantial. It's certainly there, and probably could be affected by other shadow abilities that work on normal matter.. but without a spirit to latch onto, it can't be kenned or otherwise manipulated.

Alptraum is ... actually surprised by this. He figured the shadow worked on the flesh to some degree. He draws the shadow back quickly and resumes watching the timer.

The first five minutes go by with nothing happening. As do the second five. It doesn't look like Rostre is going to escape on her own, and nothing is apparent to mundane senses to indicate anything is in the bottle.

Alptraum turns the timer and continues to wait. He does shift back to the wraith for a bit so he can see if those senses can tell is much is going on.

With Wraith-Vision, a silver form is visible inside the bottle - a miniature version of Rostre, just sort of bobbing in the wine but not otherwise moving or doing anything.

"Interesting," Alptraum muses as he watches the silver in the bottle. He glances, now and then, to the timer, checking time.

Alptraum lets the wraith fade quickly. He grips the bottle with one hand and uses the other to rapidly pry at the cork. "If you die I'm going to be in a lot of trouble," he grumbles as he works, and tries to not panic.

There's a distinct odor and a breeze coming from the bottle - the wine has certainly gone bad. There's a very thin fog that emerges, and seems to flow across the room and up into Rostre's nostrils. After a minute of this, the Naga shudders and sneezes, then starts moving again.. mainly to wipe her nose. "Oooog.." she mutters.

"I did warn you it won't likely be pleasant," Alptraum complains at the mage. He is at her side, string to support her if she needs the support, anyway. "You really shouldn't test such things on yourself."

After a bit more sniffling, the Naga feels herself with her hands, and wiggles each of her fingers in turn. "Aside from the transfer.. was rather relaxing. A bit like being drunk. That is.. like being drunk from a bottle. But.. I think it works. If you can do it with me, you shouldn't have an issues with a srinala."

"I would ask, was it good for you? but I'm not sure you would get the joke," Alptraum admits, "Not many would trust me with such intimate work. I could have done horrible things to you. But, you trusted me not to. Thank you."

"Why would you do horrible things to me?" Rostre asks, flicking her tongue. "You don't seem the sort. Now.. It's your turn! Can you stand over here on this circle please? I want to do a spirit visualization on you. You don't even have to take off your clothes if you don't want to.. but it would be more fun if you did."

Alptraum's brow arches. Still, it's a reptile so he figures there is no real concern if he strips. So, he does. An all-black Eeee save for a nasty-looking right hand, chest scar, and white head-mane. He stacks his clothing to the side, then steps over to the circle. "Now it is time for me to trust you," he admits. "Please don't abuse that."

"Ah, interesting scar," Rostre says. "Now, can you make your shadow manifest? Wrap it around you or something?"

"Sure, that's easy enough to do," Alptraum agrees. He breathes in, then as he breathes out he lets the shadow flow. It's like sweating, kind of, only more oily yet not as it oozes out through his skin to engulf him from the neck down.

"What happens if any breaks off?" Rostre asks, and can't resist poking at the shadow. "Can it exist independently at all?"

"I have not tried, but I doubt it. It draws its existence from me. If it is separated, I imagine it boils away," Alptraum admits and shrugs a little. "I also expect it would hurt to try that."

"Won't be able to get a sample then," the mage mutters, and goes over to another circle on the floor. There are three of them, and hers is the one with lots of candles and other things. Rostre coils inside, and begins chanting. At times she waves a burning stick of incense about, and at other she shakes a pair of rattles - actual ones taken from (hopefully) deceased rattler Nagas.

"Well, you can try," Alptraum offers, "But I don't expect it will work." He even extrudes a tendril of shadow from his palm in case she wants to try and cut it.

Rostre doesn't seem interested in the offer just now, focused as she is on her ritual. She's swaying back and force like she's in a trance, but still keeps up her chanting and other things, like lighting candles without even looking at them. It goes on for quite some time, until there's a 'poof' sound and a little column of sourceless smoke appears in the third circle.

Alptraum lowers his hand and just watches. "This is really odd," he thinks to himself. Granted praying to Goddesses for stuff is probably no odder when it comes down to it. So, he manages to just stay still, except for when he hears the poof and his ears flick to the smoke, then he looks at it.

The smoke seems to be filling an invisible mold. It begins to look more and more Eeee-like, until Rostre hisses something and claps her hands loudly together, which echoes somehow. The smoky apparition solidifies into a transparent duplicate of Alptraum, but then it begins to separate and shift color. Soon there are two figures superimposed - a blue-tinted Alptraum, and a green-tinted Wraith. Red lines also appear within the body - tangled behind the scar, but extending from there down to his loins and out through the right shoulder and down to the forearm. The forearm itself is gone.. there's just a blotch where the limb ends. There's no sign of the shadow cloak either in the projection.

"Well, that is unsettling," Alptraum remarks a bit dryly. He cannot help himself and flexes his right hand, rols his wrist, then even lifts his arm to see if the replica mimics the behavior and what it does.

The doppleganger doesn't move, as if it were only a snapshot. Rostre comes out of her trance and slithers over to the apparition, but doesn't cross the third magic circle. "Well.. this is.. not at all what I expected to see.." she admits.

"What did you expect to see?" Alptraum has to ask. "I'm a broken person, born from the support of Sunala-based magic."

"I expected to see the green one," Rostre replies, poking at the projection. "Although I didn't expect it to look so.. scary. But that must be the Barsunala spirit. I didn't think there'd be a normal one in there too! But.. the colors indicate spiritual symbiosis.. a fusion of spirits at conception. You're a normal man, and the Barsunala, instead just being wholly one or the other! The red elements.. are worrying. That's a sign of antagonistic response. An intrusive spirit, but it's red and not purple which means it's just the Barsunala spirit that is in opposition. Your right forearm and shadow don't even show up.. that indicates they are a separate entity that the Barsunala is resisting. This one intrusion.. the tangle in your chest and this line to your loins is confusing though. What exactly does that scar of yours represent?"

"It is where I am fused with the shadow. Another Shadow Dragon ... tore my heart in half to force me to bond the remains of the Shadow of Amena to myself to save the body," Alptraum explains and shrugs. "I did it ... for love. A woman, shadow-bonded, would have had her line end had I not become compatible. Not many would risk such to help someone they fell in love with on first sight. I became a monster to save her." He shrugs again and looks down, muttering, "I would have died for her. Still would."

"The Shadow of.." Rostre starts to say, then covers her mouth goes wide eyed. "Oh.. my! You stole it? You stole her weapon and now you're going to use it against her! Hah! That is just.. nifty!"

"Ripped from the coffin it was kept in," Alptraum says and flexes his right hand. "I had to fight off a black heart it tried to kill me with, too. That's what mangled this hand. And yes, then I subdued the shadow of Amena and made it part of myself. The Barsunala abilities made that possible. But, it does basically mean I am a monster."

"Monster?" Rostre asks, and looks like she's going to have a giggle fit. "You're a slap in the face to Amenlichtli! How embarrassed she must be! You're proof that she's vulnerable! A miracle! You should be put on a plinth, or paraded around so everyone can see! You stole the boogey-man's fangs!"

The Naga immediately follows this up by clasping her hands together against her chest, and making 'big eyes' at Alptraum. "Can I hug you?" she asks.

Alptraum explodes out a wave of shadow in front of the Naga, stopping a mere inch from consuming her. "Still think I'm not a monster?" he asks honestly. "Please understand this, I could devour you utterly right now and leave behind a bag of skin and bones. This is not something that most people would ever be comfortable with. I am also close to immortal physically; this body will age very slowly because of the bonding."

"Well, isn't that appropriate though?" Rostre asks. "And you don't do that. I could squeeze the life out every person in this tower. It's easy to kill people, and the method doesn't matter so much when the result is the same. I've seen people who got caught in the Boomer.. I know there are horrible ways to die. Everyone in Babel knows that. Just because you could do it doesn't make you any more frightening than a Yodhsunala. Less scary than a Yodhblakat though.. I think."

Alptraum decides to make another point ... and the mage disappears into the shadow! Why? He kens here, there and now, every aspect, physical structure, anything he can glean from her now that she is rebonded with her spirit. It's thorough, and possibly disconcerting to exist in limbo for a time (though it probably also feels really good, since it usually does). When it withdraws, he asks, quietly, "Still think I'm not a monster? I now know everything about you. I could unmake you, remake you, or repair you. I know every fiber of what makes you, physically. You still do not fear me? Think of me as just a useful monster?"

The mage shivers and presses a hand to her chest as she lets out her breath. "Wow.." she says. "That was impressive, and a bit scary certainly.. but not monstrous. Have you ever actually done something monstrous? I'm sure you've destroyed lots of beings.. but how many of them were actually alive? And how many were monsters by their own actions?"

"I have never devoured a sentient," Alptraum says, "That is ... extremely dangerous. It is not a path I ever wish to walk. But, you're also a mage. Something like me probably isn't terrifying. But, imagine how someone on the street would feel about me if they knew? There isn't really anyone else quite like me in the world. I'm alone in a crowded room, so to speak, on many things."

"This is also why I didn't want you to examine me," Alptraum admits, ears drooped a bit. "Where I come from, such things inspire only two things generally. Pitchforks and torches."

"To the person on the street you are a demigod that exists to make sure their spirits arrive where they're supposed to when they die, and aren't stolen or eaten by demons or what-have-you," Rostre says. "When they pray to Sunala for mercy, it's always followed up a prayer to you for protection. You're supposed to be scary and powerful, because they need you to be scary and powerful to those that would hurt them. There's nothing wrong with that image. I've met scary and powerful beings that you'd never suspect of being dangerous. You are at least honest in your aspect."

"Also, I'm scared of me," Alptraum adds. "I could become as bad as someone like Amenlichli. But, I need that fear to keep me from becoming a true nightmare. I need to remember the lines to never cross."

"So you really haven't earned the right to call yourself a monster yet," Rostre points out. "You just see yourself and are afraid, so think everyone else must be afraid.. in order to justify your own fear? Is that it? If they're afraid, then that reinforces your ability to hold off the darkness you fear within yourself?"

"I don't really know," Alptraum says and shrugs. "But there, that is me. Mostly. My physical father would also probably give you chills, but that I will keep to myself."

"Well, we can't choose our family," Rostre says. "I still want to hug you though."

"Why?" Alptraum asks. "And I'm not asking to be flippant. I really wish to know why."

"Because I hole myself up down here to hide from the world," Rostre says. "Because.. the Boomer broke me. If I hid away, I wouldn't have to see Babel suffer.. because I don't have that strength anymore. I want to hug you because you give me hope. But.. I am a smelly, flaky skinned reptile so I understand if that repulses you."

"The boomer broke me too. I heard the screams, everyone dying, all at once," Alptraum admits, "Then the times that followed, the horribleness of my own people thrust for me see and feel impotent to change, I turned away from this very city. It was because I found love in another that I found the reason to return here and try to fix things. Every day I wonder if what I do really matters, but I keep trying anyway." He then opens his arms and offers, "And no, you don't repulse me."

Rostre slithers up and hugs Alptraum.. just not too tight. "You stole the Devil's pitchfork for love," she says. "That makes you a romantic hero, not a monster. Oh.. can I get a sample from you?"

Alptraum actually kisses the Naga, right on the lips, to make a point she does not repulse him. When that ends, he replies, "You can try. A sample of what?"

"Well, the shadow is.. out of the question really," Rostre says, and gape-grins at the kiss. "I'm pretty sure I'd need to involve a Life Mage and.. honestly I don't think anyone should know that much about your power. There are treatises on Shadow Dragons somewhere, and now that I know what it is I don't need to 'bleed' you of any of it. However.. there is that's line going down south. That at least I know will be fine if separated from you, and will be something nobody's ever examined before. I just need to know how big of a jar you'll need. I'm not that familiar with how things work with mammals in that department.."

Alptraum rolls his eyes at that. "Not a very big jar," he says with a snort. "And I doubt it would be that interesting to examine, but if you really want it..."

"It's spirit-infused!" Rostre says, releasing Alptraum to find a jar that still has a matching lid. "Is it the sperm, or the.. other stuff? Seminal fluid? This could be important! Did you know there are royal family lines in Kroz that always produce Khattas regardless of the species of the mother? This could be a key in that process! Imagine what it could mean for mixed-species couples! And probably safer than Life Magic, too." She finally finds a clean jar, and takes a few moments to get the lid off. Then she offers it to Alptraum. "I should probably keep it chilled. I think Gusty has some icetis stashed away.."

"Do you have some place private to do this?" Alptraum has to ask, brow arched a bit and looking mildly amused. He also cannot believe he's going to do this, but he does remember a trick from the Salon to trigger it regardless of how aroused he actually is.

"The door is already closed," Rostre points out. "You just.. squirt it out right? Is there some special process involved? Do you need help? I have a creen feather somewhere, it does wonders for me.. uh.. ahem. It's useful, that is."

"Well, t usually required the proper stimulation, but I know a shortcut trick for it. Just, uh, please turn around," Alptraum requests and twirls a finger.

Rostre turns around.. until she's facing Alptraum again. "Wait, did you mean turn away?" she asks.

"You need to be specific with mages," she advises, then turns away. She also upturns a wastebasket full of crumpled up papers and puts it over her head.

Alptraum chuckles to himself. He takes the jar and finds a wall to lean safely against. The jar is held down, well, to catch things. The trick ... it's gross, but can be done with the shadow. He just has to extend a shadow tendril up inside himself through the old back door and massage the little knob inside ... like what was done to Pierce at the salon. It elicited the proper response pretty quickly back then. So ... it should this time too. He also cannot believe he is doing this, but ... it's the only fast way!

It certainly works this time, despite the circumstances. The jar really is too big, but hopefully the Naga won't be disappointed.

Alptraum grunts and dissolves the shadow. Good thing he doesn't have to wash it, even though he has the urge to. "Right, well, done," he says. "The not fun and fast way, but it gets you what you wanted." He holds out the jar and looks, well ... not quite embarrassed, more just weird about it.

The bucket is lifted and Rostre takes and seals the jar, with an oddly gleeful look. "Now I just need a control sample.. could you ask Cyprian to provide one when you see him?" she asks, as she stashes the jar away. Then she rummages under the workbench to pull out a woven basket. It's got.. cheeses, and some dried sausage of some sort. She sets it on top of the table and puts the wine bottles in it. "No one will ever suspect this isn't just a gift basket now," she says.

"Well, I think you should ask him that. It's not like Cyprian and I are a couple," Alptruam says with a smirk. Though, tanks to the Shrine Maiden bleedthrough; he does feel a bit oddly turned on by the idea.

"Well, just ask him to come down here and I'll give him a jar," Rostre offers. She then goes and dispels the spirit manifestation. "No reason for anyone else to see this.." she notes.

"All right, I can tell him you want to see him," Alptraum agrees, nods, then goes to get dressed again. "Also, you and I should have a date some night, since you feel alone. Reptiles can be fun and you can learn how mammals work." The Eeee then waggles his brow at the mage. He gathers the basket and the sack to take with him. "And thank you again for your help."

"Oh.. inside is less pressure," Rostre says, sounding relieved. "And I'll have fresh skin next time, promise! I really liked that licking-from-the-inside-out thing you did.."

The novice is still waiting outside, although she's clearly fallen asleep, since she's hanging upside down from a rafter. She stirs when the door opens though. "Oh.. I'm supposed to guide you to Mage Cyprian's rooms, if you're ready sir," she chirps.

"Most people do," Alptraum says with a smirk as he heads to the door and opens it. "And don't forget, get some sleep," he adds, then slips out to go find Cyprian. To the novice he says, "Yes, please, take me to him. I have a small matter to discuss with him."

The young Eeee takes Alptraum back up a few levels to Cyprian's office. Here there is an actual window looking out towards the city, but not at an angle that shows the Wound. There's a small desk, plenty of lamps and several bookshelves. There is the usual magic circle engraved in the floor, and a stuffed six-legged reptile with a large mouth suspended from the ceiling. An open standing cabinet is full of assorted candles, chalks and other supplies of the trade, but at least there aren't things floating in jars, although there are several miniature models of brains, presumably from different species.

Cyprian is at his desk, writing in a large book when the girl brings Alptraum in through the open door. "Ah, has Mage Rostre been able to help you, Barsunala?" the dark Eeee asks.

"Yes. I have the traps I required," Alptraum says as he sets the basket down for the moment. It frees up his hands to fish out the small wooden box he brought. An odd look comes over his face as he ponders something; then he goes down on one knee as if he is going to propose.

Cyprian raises an eyebrow at this, and gestures for the novice to leave. She does, and closes the door behind her. "What's this?" the Mind Mage asks.

Alptraum rises, amused. "I wanted to see the reaction to that," he admits, "I have a strange sense of humor." He does hold out the small box, though, noting, "This is for you, though. An offer of trust."

"I'm not sure I understand," Cyprian says, and takes the box. He sets it down on his book before lifting the lid though. "It's a dagger?"

"Iron dagger," Alptraum clarifies. "If the need is ever there; that can kill me. Well, this body anyway. Aim for my heart," he explains simply. "If I ever become the monster instead of fighting them, that is. I want someone I can trust to know how, and be able, to stop me."

Cyprian holds the dagger as if it might be poisoned, and then sets it back into the case. "If you were to become a monster, I doubt I could get close enough to you to use this. And if you let me, then you probably wouldn't be a monster," he notes. "Still, I understand the gesture. Is it this dagger in particular that is needed, or just iron?"

"Just iron," Alptraum says and shrugs slightly. "The binding to what was the Shadow of Amena is what makes me vulnerable to it."

"I have no idea," Alptraum admits. "I am actually more concerned that armor of hers may be laced with iron."

"I'm not familiar with the old Confederate bio-technology from the Tower," Cyprian admits. "But if it uses metal.. even iron.. that could be a liability to the wearer. Magic can affect it."

"I may be diving into what remains of the lower levels of the tower at some point. I may be able to recover something to examine," Alptraum notes. "But, I am at least passingly familiar with the bio-weapons. I, ah, rescued one. He lives at Mt. Sunala now."

Cyrpian actually grins at that. "If you delve into the ancient bowels of the Tower, and happen to find some of the likely armor, I ask that you let us study it here at the Guild. There may be something that Life and Earth magic can do to help neutralize it."

"You'll likely be able to learn more from it that I can. While I have powerful abilities, they tend to be fairly narrow in scope," Alptraum agrees. "If I had to guess as to what it is roughly acting like, though; the General is noting more than a suit of Golem armor now. No flesh, so Amenlichli cannot control her."

"That.. is a disturbing thought," Cyprian admits, standing up to pace the room. "There is a form of undead that acts like that. But it is still just the willpower of the animating spirit. What is the General's source of animating energy though?"

"Uncertain. I know she did something in a city of dead ... and no, you do not want to go there ... to become what she is. I imagine she was dying and this was her way to circumvent it," Alptraum notes and shrugs.

"Is it to do with that sacrificial jar?" Cyprian asks. "Is she some sort of alien undead?"

"That is as good an explanation as anything. And yes, something like that jar was involved. Oh, I also met Amenlichli's former high priest when I was there. He's ... gone now," Alptraum says.

"I didn't realize she had a clergy," Cyprian says, coming to a stop. "And Mind Magic isn't of much use on the undead. The best I'll be able to do is try to shield others from the madness."

"That's more than enough. If it's anything like what the Shrine Maiden can do ... ugh," Alptraum comments.

"I'm hoping it's exactly like what the Shrine Maiden can do," Cyprian says, raising a finger. "She's the one who's been helping us create the shield after all."

"I'm not sure what you mean," Cyprian claims, looking away to pat some of his model brains. "She's quite warm and charming."

Alptraum's brow arches. "Even you must admit she is not ... normal," he points out. "She is likely odder than I am."

"I am not unfamiliar with humans," Cyprian claims. "There are many among our ranks, after all. She is just a bit more decorative than most." He looks to Alptraum finally, and asks, "She speaks of you, so you must have some sort of relationship. You are both working towards the same goal, are you not?"

"I'd love to know more about her origins, but I can't really ask you about them," Cyprian says. He looks back to the basket then. "I hope the traps serve you well, and that removing those spirits from the Sea of Souls has the desired effect."

"I may require a third one later, one for the General herself," Alptraum notes as he collects the basket. "And as for her origins, well, you wouldn't believe it even if I told you."

"Wouldn't you need something personal of the General's?" Cyprian asks. "And I'm used to unbelievable things. You can't really be a Mage without believing in the unbelievable. Do you need any assistance in exploring the Tower?"

"Trust me on her, you wouldn't believe it," Alptraum claims. "As for the tower, not to my knowledge yet. I am waiting for plans to be pulled together so that I can find the most useful routes to try to penetrate. It won't be until I have those and do some preliminary scouting will I know if I will require further aid there."

"As a para-natural being, you must be cautious," Cyprian advises. "There are extensive Sifran crystal deposits beneath the tower that may have unforeseeable side effects on your being."

"I was there once before, right when Rephidim attacked it," Alptraum notes. "But yes, I will have to be cautious there. It's not only that, but the place had its own defenses and traps."

"Do you suppose the Skekos-child would know about the internal structure?" Cyprian asks.

Alptraum considers this. "I honestly doubt it. I do not think he was ever out of his pod before that," the Eeee admits. "And asking him would be exceptionally difficult."

"His.. pod?" Cyprian asks, then shakes his head. "I suppose not then. But if you do need anything, feel free to call upon us."

"Well, yes. He was grown in this sort of pod," Alptraum explains and shrugs a bit. "And I really should not take more of your time; you are exceedingly busy. I only have rights on your time when, well ... you get the idea."

"There really isn't a lot of call for Mind Magic of late," Cyprian notes. "Mostly monitoring business negotiations. Intrigue seems to be going out of style in Babel."

"Not exactly a bad thing," Alptraum points out. "I could introduce you to a Yodhbarada if you want, though."

"They deal in secrets. If anyone could work with them it would probably be Mind Mages," Alptraum points out. "Though the one I know may not exactly want to speak with me. She got a little too flippant the last time and I had to remind her who I was."

"More or less. Some need more supervision than others. Some scare even me. The one that resides at the Temple of Gorphat is ... frightening," Alptraum says.

"I've not met the new High Priestess of Gorphat," Cyprian admits. "But she seems to be a positive influence. Saving the Streets Below instead of purging them is a welcome change."

"She may be slightly unhinged, but yes, she is trying to do good things. If you saw her, though, you could tell she has personally endured much," Alptraum says, then shrugs.

"I'm not that familiar with the private lives of the Yodh, I'm afraid," Cyprian notes. "They rarely hire mages, after all."

"Probably not something you really want to know. For example, That High Priestess has relations with certain insects," Alptraum notes and shudders. "Anyway, I should be going. I have taken enough of your time."

"Thank you for your trust, Barsunala," Cyprian says and bows. "We will not abuse it."

Alptraum accepts the offer. "And one more small thing," he says as they walk, "The Shrine Maiden enjoyed the other evening with you." The Barsunala then grins wryly.

The Nest
Deep beneath the Temple of Inala is a secret bunker, where some of the Yodhinalas' treasure and special items were stored. Currently it's been reclaimed by the once High Priestess, Mave, and her companions.

"Is that for me?" Mave asks once Alptraum arrives with the wine-and-cheese basket. She's naked as usual, but the markings on her are different today, although still done in blue fur-paint.

"No. And it isn't for drinking. They're spirit traps to collect two very specific spirits. I need to leave them here until the ritual to capture them is set up," Alptraum explains as he carries in the basket to store someplace safe. "And do you ever wear any clothing?" he asks, "And why the new markings?"

"The markings are changed every few days to reflect the next step in the ritual," Mave says. "So why would I bother wearing clothes? I am not even going outside. Do you find my naked form too distracting?" she asks, almost purring.

"Yes. And what ritual are you doing this time?" Alptraum has to ask, right brow arched slightly.

"Purification for what? And why? You've been with so many men I cannot imagine you ever being pure," Alptraum teases.

"You have your projects and I have mine," Mave replies, and licks Alptraum's nose.. the length of her tongue making up for the difference in heights.

"Yes, but I expect you to tell me what your projects are," Alptraum comments and makes a grab for her tongue.

Mave grins and licks her lips. "Oh, nothing," she claims. "But the secrets of the Yodhinala are for the Yodhinala.. or at least for the upper echelons of the clergy."

"All I have to do, then, is turn into the rat, or the younger you," Alptraum points out.

"You still aren't a former High Priestess," Mave notes with a grin. "There are certain things that only I have access to, because of my former position."

"And I will not tamper with your magic wine," Mave promises, then reaches around to pat Alptraum on the butt.

"Probably wise. If you drank it, it would likely kill you," Alptraum points out. "I'll be going now."

"Not going to happen," Alptraum says as he heads up the stairs. "It's part of my charm."

The skies are clear over the Temple of Inala. There is some low-lying fog within the city itself, especially the Wound, but Babel looks a bit cleaner for some reason because of it.

Alptraum stretches out his wings and just ... climbs. Straight up above the city as hard and as far as his wings will carry him before they start to ache. "Has it really been so long since I have been up here?" he wonders to the wind.

The perspective shifts with altitude. The Saskanar-facing docks are still busy, with a line of airships floating above the fog layer stretching out into the distance, with the Rephath-branded warship watching from higher up. There are smaller ships and sky-palanquins and the occasional Rakhtor visible among the towers, with Vartans standing out more than individual Eeee. It's also quiet up here.

Alptraum continues up, almost towards the Rephath ship of all things. The Eeee then lips around so that his back is to the ground and he's facing upwards towards the ship. He knows them well enough to know they are watching him by this point. So, the Eeee salutes the ship, completely draws in his wings about himself ... and drops. "Going down," he thinks.

The air above Babel isn't exactly crisp. There's a marked difference between the mountain air and the city air - the city is always warmer, its air rising up in handy columns between the towers.

And Alptraum continues to just rocket downward, wings folded in as well as eyes closed. At the rate he's moving, he's going to soon become a smear across one of the towers of the city. Except within ten feet of one of those towers one wing snaps out and spins him around until he's facing downward again ... then the other wing comes out. So, instead of rocketing downward, his momentum shifts to more forward and less down ... and he goes screaming like a black and white blurred streak through the towers. He whips himself in and out of them as if they were some sort of pylon course for flying. One he even uses to completely change direction by using his feet to catch of of its out croppings and spin ninety-degrees on it before letting go. He has no idea how fast he's actually going, it's all driven by old instinct at this point; knowing how to ride the thermals and shifts in the airflow. Using drops to gain speed and climbs to reduce. Relying on sound more that eyes to move in and out amongst the

the buildings. It may have been a while, but there is no fear in this; it's like stretching old muscles more than anything.

He does draw attention. In his wake are many younger flyers trying to keep up, but falling behind. There's just no way for an 'amateur' flyer to keep up with Alptraum's aerobatics. Some of the more powerful flyers just go straight up though to get a better view. Mostly Vartans. A year or two earlier, and such a flight would be met by arrows and bolts from the private security guards of the various towers. But Babel has changed.

"Come on, try to keep up," Alptraum thinks as he surges between the buildings. At one point it banks hard to the right and disappears down a sky 'alleyway'. Seconds later he comes flying just over those tailing him, crossing their path at nearly a right angle. Then he's climbing again, this time by 'bouncing' off the various towers with his legs, using them in addition to his wings to propel himself up.

It's no wonder that the high-up observers are mostly Vartans - it takes raptor-like eyesight to follow Alptraum's moves. Those trying to follow along the actual path often lose Alptraum altogether, especially when he uses buildings to make course corrections. Even the youngest flyers still remember the days when 'trespassing' was met with lethal force, and that was just for getting close to a tower. There are a few promising trackers though, who don't bother trying to keep up speed-wise, but work more at keeping track of the leader.

It also isn't fair that Alptraum grew up doing this, and having to fly through much more confined spaces that this. It also involved learning how to just use his own weight to affect changes. Claws and tree branches and trunks aren't that much different from tower outcroppings when it comes down to it. And then, well, he starts cheating even more, in that he starts using the shadow to make him look even odder as he darts throughout this section of the city; it makes him look like he has smoking streamers trailing off of him as he goes.

This actually makes it easier for people to keep track of him, especially when he doubles back and loops around to cross his own track. More Eeee are trying to join in, as if this was all some sort of parade. At least nobody is trying to match him exactly, so there aren't a lot kids smacking into walls and gargoyles.

As fun as this is, Alptraum decides he needs to take a break before he smacks into a building! It's not like he has done this a lot and his endurance for it may not quite be what it once was. So ... the Eeee starts to look for a large fountain or pool. Why? Dramatic landing, that's why.

The largest reflecting pool is actually on the upper deck of Cenesta Plaza - since before that was built, nobody would think of putting out fresh water where anyone could foul or steal it!

And Alptraum heads right for it! At the last moment he surges upward, cupping his wings both in and out alternatingly so that he spins like a top right above the pool. The breeze from his wings draw the water upward around him, and also help him bleed off some of his momentum by giving it to the water. He alights in the center of the pool finally as the hollow column of water spins, then comes crashing down around him. He way be wet, but it was fun!

There's a lot of cheering from the crowd on the plaza, and eventually a chorus of squeaks and pings as the 'parade' catches up - at least the ones that didn't drop out from exhaustion.

Alptraum shakes out his dripping hair as he slogs his way out of the pool. He didn't expect to attract a crowd, he just wanted to go flying for once! Still, by this point he's laughing too, impressed that some of the city dwellers were almost able to keep up!

"How'd you do that?" "Are you an Air Mage?" "Hey, want some of my fried crickets? I've got the dipping sauce." "That's the Barsunala!" The crowd is a bit chaotic. There's also a lot of laughing when some of the followers flop into the water.

Alptraum, probably showing off a little uses the shadow to dry himself off by extruding it under the water and shedding it off like water on oil! "I was just going for a flight, I didn't expect, well, this," he claims to those gathered.

"Well, you shouldn't have flown so fancy then," a woman points out. "Do you have a girlfriend?"

"Fancy? That's called being out of practice. Many of those turns were wider than they needed to be," Alptraum claims. "As for the other question, I am unavailable, for many reasons."

"Will you kiss my baby?" someone asks, which seems to cause Alptraum to be surrounded by children, even Savanite ones being held out.

Alptraum finds all of this very strange. Still, that request is harmless, so sure, he kisses that baby. Then another, then another. Come to think of it, maybe that wasn't so harmless. His lips might fall off.

"That's good luck!" "A blessing of long life!" "A painless death!" There are many things people attribute to the 'blessings' of the Barsunala it seems.

"Okay, okay, I should be going," Alptraum says as he holds up his hands placatingly.

"Say hello to the glowing lady and the silver dragon for us!" someone bids. His back is being closed in on as well, from the pool, although some of the flyers are still airborne, waiting to chase after him again.

Alptraum takes off in a run towards the edge of the plaza! He leaps off the platform, wings folded in. He disappears below the plaza as he falls! Wings then snap out and he glides off into the city as fast as he can move ... now at the lower levels so more shadows so he can through off those trying to follow him.

A few are quick on his tail.. the same ones that weren't wasting their enduring trying to keep up the first time. One of them now has green streamers, but they could have been part of her outfit originally. There is a limit to how low upper-city people are willing to go into the mists though.

But not limits to him .. so into the mists he goes! "I don't quite know how to feel about all of that!" Alptraum thinks as the mists engulf him and leave him navigating by sound far below. So much for being able to go out by himself and not get noticed!

The echoes of Graytown help Alptraum orient himself. From here, he knows how to get to most places, including the Temple of Gorphat.

He realizes he best get back and make sure the antics of the doe didn't cause too much disruption to the Temple. This of course means he will have to become a she. And not just any one, the one most heavily blessed by Gorphat, and lives with constant aches and oozes. He always dreads returning to that form ... until he's in that form. Then he likes that form. Gorphat definitely has her hooks into that form's psyche and has trained her to enjoy what any sane person would consider a horrible punishment. So, he wings towards the back of the Temple, where the secret entrance is.

After stashing his clothes, it's easy for Alptraum to sneak back into the Temple. Less easy is the decision to become Nicora again, after spending some time feeling 'normal' again.

Naked and feeling torn, Alptraum knows he must be Nicora when in the Temple. So, with a heavy sigh, he kneels down and lets the shadow embrace him to restore all the 'blessings' Gorphat has given, as well as inverting his gender to one blessed with constant desire, but punished with terrible pain whenever that desire is ever attempted to be sated. From handsome, to bald, hideous, and cursed. Not many would willingly do that.

Once the transformation is complete, one of the new scalp tendrils flops down across Nicora's face. They're glowing enough now that their reflections make the damp walls shine green.

Nicora rubs her already aching chest and swollen vulva. Her curses waste no time at all in making themselves know. She then reaches up and pushes thos tentris back out of her face and between her ears. She then rises up and starts walking through the temple passages. With each step, those subtle mental hooks start working and instead of feeling frustrated by this body, pride in it takes its place.

Once she reaches the main section of the Temple, Nicora can hear (and sense) people gathered in the mushroom garden, one of the generally less visited spots.

Nicora turns and heads towards the mushroom garden. "Is there a problem?" she calls out in her semi-imperious voice with the underpinnings of raspiness due to everything she has endured. A voice that reflects Gorphat Herself, only less gurgly.

The conversation comes to a halt. The Eyes are there, sitting atop several of the larger toadstools. Foz hops down and drops to one knee, saying, "High Priestess, we' bin waitin' for you."

Nicora pets Foz's cheek with her left hand; it's a bit sticky from what she wiped off of her teats early, but nothing too bad. "What news do you have, then, that you have come to me?" she inquires.

"It's the Compassion.. that is, the Compassion of Gorphat," Foz says, looking up as he names the other spontaneously formed volunteer group. "They came back from Mt. Blakat, said they weren't welcome there no more and that the Yodhblakat's High Thug wanted to see you."

"Excuse me? That will not stand," Nicora says with a frown and feeling ... annoyed. "Fine. I will dress appropriately, then visit Mount Blakat and settle this.""

"If you wish," Nicora offers. She turns around and heads out of the mushroom chamber. Time to get dressed in formal bandages and go visit Moutn Blakat.

Shiv follows along like a puppy, and once they reach Nicora's chambers he actually starts to braid the glowing tendrils together so they aren't just flopping about.

Nicora ... allows this. He means well. She even holds still and lets him finish before she starts applying Gorphat's sacred bandages to her body. They're kept appropriately sticky so that they stay well attached once applied. How are they sticky? Well, much of that comes from the High Priestess own oozings. Since this is a formal visit to another temple, she even puts on wrappings over her backside and genitals; both of which she rarely covers in the temple. Even all of her teats are properly wrapped. Lastly is her face, leaving her with a loose bandage muzzle as well as a gauzy veil.

There is the issue of the traditional jewelry. It's not as nice as a Yodhinala might have, but there are still some brooches and other bits that can be attached to the bandages, along with the belt of vials full of glowing green goo. But is it wise to show any sort of wealth when meeting with the Yodhblakat?

The jewelry and belt are are left off; Nicora knows better than to bring things that might be appealing steal. So, she ends up looking like someone with a bunch of really horrible diseases and oozing wounds with the way the bandages lay. Granted that isn't too far from the truth, she has at least five active blessings from Gorphat currently. "I will be back in a while," she tells Shiv.

Shiv still follows her. Brutus also flies out of the Horrib Lair to take his place on Nicora's back, with a cheerful call of, "Did-a-chum." And in the open area of the Temple, the Eye is also assembled, as if expecting to provide an escort (except for Francis, the only flightless member).

Nicora's brow arches a bit, lifting the bandages slightly. She doesn't deny the escort, nor does she try to dislodge the horrib from her back. It's unlikely he would sting her if she tried, but best not to tempt that fate. "To Mount Blakat," she says formally, then takes to the air to travel there.

Refugee Camp, Mt. Blakat
Unlike the one at Mt. Gorphat, the camp here is a lot more ramshackle, looking not very different from the Streets Below in practice. There aren't any hospital tents here, and people seem to be less social as well.

Except for Fig, who always flies ahead, the rest of the Eye stay close to Nicora during the flight. They still take the 'low sky', through the undercity, which they are most familiar with. But eventually they reach the hills of Mt. Blakat, and the rather poor looking refugee camp there.

Nicora is quiet for this trip, and her expression is grim. Why would the Yodhblakat turn on their agreement? She supposes she will find out soon enough. Her wings unfurl a bit, allowing her torso to upright and legs to drop as she alights upon the ground. Once she has landed, she heads towards the camp and gestures for the Eye to follow.

Nobody rushes out to greet them. If anything they seem to huddle further into their makeshift shelters. "HEY!" a voice booms from above, and Yodhblakat Rizalka lands heavily nearby. "You gotta come with me!" she says, pointing at Nicora.

"You do not order me around, Yodhblakat Rizalka," Nicora reminds the Yodh. "You can ask, and yes, I will come," she adds as she approaches the other Yodh. "Why are you denying access to the camp to my servants?"

Rizalka does not look happy - or at least, she looks more disgruntled than usual even for her. With a clenched jaw, she says, "Please come and partake of our hospitality at the Temple. Every'ting will be explained."

Nicora actually bows to this. "I am honored to do so," she says formally, "Thank you, High Priestess. If I may help you in your Temple, I will do so."

When it's clear that Rizalka isn't going to start hitting anyone, the Eye disperses into the camp - they're the ones that led these people here, after all, so are more likely to get an honest overview of the situation. Only Shiv stays behind, along with Brutus.

"C'mon then," the Yodhblakat almost spits, turning and marching up the hill towards the fortress-temple. She doesn't look to see if she's being followed or not.

Nicora is actually concerned now. Not for her safety, but that something is obviously wrong and disturbing Rizalka; the turn-away seems to have been a request for help. What kind ... well, it remains to be seen. She follows after the Yodhblakat. "Formalities out of the way, it is good to see you again, Yodhblakat," she says, and even stranger, she actually means it. Rizalka is the one that really helped her on the path to become what she is, after all.

"Yeah, sure," Rizalka says without turning. "My face is haunting, after all." She doesn't seem to be much more talkative though, until they reach the Temple. The gate opens for them - meaning there must be at least one other Yodhblakat operating it, unless Rizalka has the barinalas doing it. As before, the place is a labyrinth of cobbled together architecture and 'stolen' buildings. Eventually they reach a sunken fighting pit, and Rizalka finally stops and turns at the entry. "Just you, Yodhgorphat. Pets stay out here with me," she says.

Nicora looks to Rizalka a good while. "She tabs Brutus on her back to try and get her to leave her back and go to Rizala's back instead. She also tells him, "If I am intentionally harmed, sting the Yodhblakat." A small warning that she will not tolerate some sort of trap. "What is the situation I am walking into?" the Yodhgorphat asks.

Rizalka freezes when the monster bug clings to her. It takes her a moment to find her voice. "I don't know," she says with forced calm. "I wasn't told."

"Then who requested that I come? Blakat Herself?" Nicora inquires, sounding calm. Inside she is anything but calm. Who knows what awaits her.

Nicora leans in and smiles in the sort of way only a Yodhgorphat can. "My Girlfriend," she says, then kisses Rizalka's cheek! Let them figure that one out. She then turns and heads through the entry, alone.

The small stadium seems to be empty. Nobody is sitting on the benches or waiting on the floor. But there seems to be a folded bit of paper at the very center of the dirty fighting pit.

Nicora heads to the center and crouches down to collect the paper. Once she has it, she unfolds it to read it.

There's a single word written, the Babelite rune for 'jump'. After is a Standard exclamation point though.

Nicora blinks, confused by this. But ... she jumps. Up and to the side, since the note didn't specify!

There a sense of something rushing past, and a very strong arm grabs Nicora around the waist and yanks her, until she's sitting in the lap of a red-furred crazy blonde who is cackling. The motion is from the monstrous spider-pede that Blakat is riding on, which doesn't bother to stay grounded as it rushes in a spiral towards the walls of the chamber. "I love this thing!" Blakat cackles, squeezing Nicora. "Ooo, you've got extra tits! And I like what you've done with your hair!"

"Waaaah!" goes Nicora as she goes flying in the arms of Blakat. "What is going on!?" she inquires of Blakat, eyes wide and feeling ... well ... terrified! Blakat will do anything, and the fact she likes Nicora's appearance makes it even worse! "Yes, well, Gotphat has been making me more beautiful," she claims of her current appearance. "I like it too!"

"The Medusa Look, hard to copy though!" Blakat says. Fluffy the spider-pede is now up on the vertical walls, so Nicora is sideways to the ground. While Eeee are fine with being upside down, sideways is another story. "Glad you came, cutey-pa-shroomy," Blakat says, and gives Nicora a grope. "I want you to do me a teensy-weensy favor!"

The groping causes Nicora to hiss! Not only does it make her groped breast ache, it starts to ooze, of course! It's at least somewhat of a distraction from being sideways and going in a circle! "What sort of favor?" Nicora asks, eyes narrowed as she hands on for dear life!

"I want you to build me a track that goes up and down and loop-the-loop for Fluffy to run on while people cling to his back!" Blakat says. "Wait! No! That's an awesome idea though, but it's not what I want you to do. I'll make someone else do it! I just want you to make those hopeless wretches love me.. or at least Rizalka.. like they love you and Gorphat. Rizalka isn't nearly as nauseating to be around, so it should be easy, right?"

"Oh, and get the tribute... ah, the donations, I mean.. flowing in like the rich folks lavish on your wretches," the goddess adds.

"Wait, you want me to get people to worship Rizalka? What does she do for them? People worship Gorphat for the help I provide them," Nicora points out while still hanging on in terror! "If Rizalka does do things to help, then they need to know what they are."

"Help?" Blakat asks, sounding confused. Fluffy keeps ascending, until he's circling around on the ceiling. "But.. everyone fears Gorphat! She makes people sick! She burns the Streets Below with green fire! What do you do that makes them forget this? Is it the extra boobs? What about a second head? I'm sure I could find one to stick on Riz.."

"Gorphat cures people now! She helps people get stronger, and no, the undercity is no longer burned. It is cleaned more appropriately," Nicora explains, "The only one that generally endures diseases and torments is me." She has to pause there to keep herself from freaking out! "Now, I don't see you or Rizalka doing that ... but what you can offer is protection from thugs and marauders that would attack them. Help them learn how to defend themselves, that sort of thing. If you help them become more protected and show them donations help further that more ... you will likely find lots of tribute come in."

"Hmmmm," Blakat ponders, letting go of Nicora with one arm to tap at the side of her own head. "Yessss... A training camp! With the best fighters becoming Yodhblakat! And.. uh.. send the pretty boys into the camp to.. give the wretches massages!"

Nicora eeeks and hangs on to Blakat! "Well, something like that, yes! But they can't just raid and demand tribute of anyone! It has to be against organized groups and criminals so that the people on average see you as a good force!" she squeaks.

"Are there organized groups of criminals?" Blakat asks, as Fluffy dangles down from the ceiling, until he can drop the rest of the way to the floor. "The Yodhrephath are supposed to deal with them! But that will get the food and clothes and all that sort of loot raining down from the city, right?"

"There are groups in the Undercity that the Yodhrephath do not get to," Nicora points out as she continues to hang on! "Stopping them means you can collect what they stole. Some goes to the encampment, some to your Temple!"

Once they're back on the ground, Blakat hops off of Fluffy, but still has Nicora tucked under one arm. "RIZALKA!" she bellows, which shakes looks bits of masonry from the ceiling.

Nicora was hoping she would be let go after all this ... but no such luck. This is also not very dignified, but she waits it out!

"Your goddess summons you," Blakat declares. This gets a sullen looking Rizalka to enter the chamber and descend the stairs, with Brutus buzzing along behind her.

Nicora finds this a rather interesting and different dynamic! Nicora often grovels to Gorphat, after all.

Face to face, Rizalka is bigger than Blakat, but still falls upon her knee. "What is your bidding, Kindly One," the woman says, and actually sounds a bit sincere... and scared.

"You would be my High Priestess, Rizalka?" Blakat asks in a voice dripping with honey.

Nicora ut-ohs. Whenever any Goddess does that, what will follow will be trouble.

"Of course!" Rizalka says, daring to glare at her goddess. "I've been doing the job for nearly a year already!"

Blakat smiles. "Oh goody! Because I have some new duties for the High Priestess!" Now she sets Nicora back on her feet, and gestures to her. "Tell me what you see, Rizalka."

Nicora arches her brow and crosses her arm over her oozing and aching chest. "I am beautiful," the Yodhgorphat says.

This gets her a bop on the head from Blakat's fist. "WRONG!" she chides. "She is a symbol - proof that she will bear all of the wrath of her goddess so that Gorphat can get away with being charitable!"

"And bear it gladly," Nicora adds, sounding proud. "Every new blessing from Gorphat is welcomed and cherished!"

"Uh.." Rizalka starts to say, while rubbing her head. "You saying I have to get beat to a pulp every day so that.. so that nothing! You don't curse people!"

Blakat makes a so-so gesture with one hand. "Well, you're gonna do something similar," she claims. "You're gonna show off what being one of my disciples can be like! So from now on, you have to be naked all the time. Show off all your scars, all your muscles and tell all the stories you know of the glory of the Yodhblakat. Inspire them! Train anyone that wants to take up a pointy stick! Have sex with anyone that can beat you at.. oh.. thumb wrestling or something. So long as it's moderately challenging.."

"Uh.." Rizalka replies, still rubbing her head. "I think you hit me too hard, Blakat.."

Nicora looks amused. The Yodhblakat being naked all the time? She wouldn't mind seeing that! She's naked almost all the time after all! "Well, if you prefer I can give you some of the same blessings I have," Nicora offers cheerfully.

"You can do that?" Blakat asks, looking Nicora up and down. "Even the snake hair? Make Rizalka's boobs bigger! She should look more like me after all!"

"I don't want bigger boobs!" Rizalka protests. "They'll get in the way of using a bow!"

"I can bestow some of the blessings, yes. If I did make her boobs bigger, she would lactate all the time, though," Nicora warns and raises a finger.

"Are you saying that my boobs are too big, Rizalka?" Blakat asks with narrowed eyes. She does have the proportions of a goddess, after all, despite the muscles.

"No. You would produce milk in your boobs. You may have to be milked now and then," Nicora explains.

"Drink it? Or have others drink it," Nicora suggests, then shrugs a bit. "It is how you feed children after all."

Nicora exposes her upper right breast. "Feel free to suckle," she offers Rizalka.

"It usually makes men like women, yes," Nicora has to admit. "Something about a lactating woman does something to men."

It's Blakat that takes Nicora up on her offer. After all, it's not the sort of milk a normal Eeee would produce.

Nicora goes up on her toes! Being nursed on by a Goddess feels funky. Nevermind it's always mildly uncomfortable in this form due to the ache.

"Oooo... that," Rizalka says. "So I don't have to be nice, just.. caring?" she tries to clarify.

"Well, depends. Some, men ... like a strong woman bossing them around," Nicora admits, sounding distracted.

"Some women too, for that matter," Nicora adds as she thinks of her own relationship with Gorphat. Past of her likes the Goddess commanding and controlling her, after all.

"I can boss people around!" Rizalka claims, standing up and beating her chest. "The barinalas do what I say. I'll have the people form Blakatball teams!"

Nicora ... laughs at this a bit. "So, do you actually, ah, want the blessing?" she inquires. "And will you, Blakat, permit a ctoss-temple gift?"

"Gorphat has always been able to curse whom she will," Blakat notes, waving a hand. "The Yodh are mortals, and so under her purview."

Nicora gestures for Rizala to approach, then. It's been a while since she invoked Gorphat for any cursing!

"It's all a matter of perspective," Nicora points out, then nods towards Blakat. "As she said."

Rizalka steps forward, giving Nicora a wary look. She looks at the bared breast and asks, "Will it be green like that?"

"If anything, it should be red," Rizalka says.. then thinks better of it. "No.. I don't want to look like I'm bleeding. Just.. regular milk.. then."

"Bare your chest then," Nicora instructs as she pops her knuckles, then licks her lips.

This takes some doing, given Rizalka is dressed in layers of mismatched armor, leather and cloth. Eventually she's stripped to the waist, with lots of stuff just hanging down from her belt.

Laid bare, the Yodhblakat's breasts are overshadowed by her pectoral muscles. What there is certainly doesn't look soft.

"Mother Gorphat," Nicora begins as she reaches over and cups each of Rizalka's breasts. "I call upon you, your devoted daughter, and beseech you to allow me to be a channel for your gifts. Allow me to pass to this ... penitent Eeee one of your gifts. With my kiss and suckle, inflame her chest with your love until soft and jiggly; make it overflow with your gift until each teat flows with milk like that of a mother. She wishes for this, to honor both You and her own Mother, Blakat, and to show cooperation between your two Temples." Nicora licks her lips again ... and does her saliva look a bit thicker and more slimy? "And with this kiss, let my lips and mouth be yours, and bestow this wondrous gift in Your name." The Yodhgorphat then leans in and presses her lips over Rizalka's left teat and starts to kiss, lick, and suckle upon it.

"This is.." Rizalka starts to say, but Nicora feels her tongue tingle.. and then a flow of something from within her going into the Yodhblakat to 'inflate' her breast. And this seems to go on for as long as Nicora cares to make contact.

Nicora keeps this kissing up until that breast seems to have roughly the same size as Blakat has. And once that is done, she switches to the other breast and starts to nurse, lick, and suckle upon it until it inflates to match the other. "Thank you, Mother, for allowing me to channel you and allow my tongue to be yours," the Yodhgorphat thinks in both pride and bliss at serving her Godess.

Rizalka looks a bit wobbily from the process, while Blakat asks, "Can you do that to her butt too?" Eventually the Yodh reaches up to feel her new additions. "I feel funny.." she says.

Nicora draws back and rolls her tongue around in her mouth to see if it still feels funny. "I am not aware of a way to do that to her backside," she admits. "That sort of change is more in Inala's realm."

"Wait.." Rizalka says, and then grabs at her crotch! "It tingles! Is that supposed to be part of it?"

"Sort of. To keep it flowing, you'll always be, well, mildly turned on. But, this can help drive your emotions when you ... do various things," Nicora claims. "Think of it as motivation."

Nicora rubs her forehead. Blakat laughing is well, at least good. It means the Goddess is amused by this instead of upset!

Rizalka finishes stripping and checks that nothing has really changed there. Shiv is also watching from the doorway.

"You'll be fine," Nicora insists, since after all, she is, and hers is worse! "You will just have the urge to have sex more often is all. This is not entirely a bad thing. Sex tends to encourage people to like you."

"And I think you wil find you will like the Barinala a lot more now," Nicora adds.

Nicora considers this. "Actually, they probably will," she admits. The Yodhblakat will be both more willing, and a bit softer!

Blakat, of course, steps forward to feel up her disciple, which causes many expressions to cross Rizalka's face. Especially when the Goddess pinches the nipples. "Now, go gather all of the other Yodhblakat," she says. "At least the ones that aren't too ugly. I want all my daughters to.. share.. this!" she notes, putting an evil emphasis on 'share' - like 'kind' it's one of those words the Yodhblakat never use.

Nicora thinks, "Wait, what? I am to bless all of them?!" This causes her to blink a few times, it's ... she's ... getttong to perform Yodh duties for Gorphat! This makes her feel all tingly and proud!

It takes some time to summon the half-dozen other Yodhblakat lurking in the fortress. Most are cowed by Blakat's presence, and are younger than Rizalka - they may have been recently recruited (ie, kidnapped) trainees when the purge of the Yodh happened. They've barely got any scars on them.

And by the time they have arrived, Nicora has stripped herself bare so that she is performing this with all her blessings on display! "Each of you are about to receive a wonderful Gift through the mutual cooperation between our Temples," the Yodhgorphat degrees as she stands in all her glorious ugliness. "Bare your chests and I will begin," she instructs.

The display doesn't seem to make any of them more willing, but they aren't about to disobey Blackat herself! So before long there are more newly-bountiful Yodhblakat about, all looking a bit antsy and fidgety.

And Nicora begins the 'blessing' plea again, with just a few small alterations to ask for her to channel Gorphat until they are all properly blessed. And of course since each one will take time, the others all get to watch each one get blessed in turn. As in, being nursed on by probably the ugliest Eeee in Babel and then each one have heir chests swell and start to leak. She doesn't mention the second aspect, of course, but then that is why the Barinala are being summoned! Nicora is positively aglow inside, knowing she is channeling her Mother and honoring Her with each blessing.

"You!" Blakat says, pointing to the last one to be blessed. "Go get the barinalas!" The scared girl is only too happy to run out of the chamber.

When the barinala are brought in.. well, they know what to do. This leaves Rizalka on her own, at least until Shiv approaches her. He's nearly as big as the Yodhblakat, after all.

"That just leaves you and me," Blakat coos to Nicora. "And I've always been the only one to play with Sister Gorphat. Nobody else was crazy enough!"

And Nicora steps back, telling Shiv, "Go right ahead." She then turns to Blakat and her brow goes up. "But, I am a pale shadow of my Mother," she quickly claims, "Not nearly as glorious or worthy!"

Blakat pulls Nicora up against her all the same, which is rather a squishy sensation, and reaches around with her other hand to grab Nicora's tail, which sends a thrill up her spine. "Oh, but she didn't have one of these," Blakat purrs, squeezing the tail.

"Eeeee!" goes Nicora at the sudden stimulation. She's well aware that tail can be used as a surrogate male part (though it refuses to allow Nicora to use it on herself; it doesn't like Gorphat's gifts!). Since she can't escape it, she gives in. Nicora kisses Blakat right on the lips as her hands start to massage and feel the Goddess up! At least this will be primarily pleasing Blakat and not triggering her own pain-blessings.

"And after this," Blakat says, "I'll have another little proposition for you.." And then the Goddess starts to really stimulate Nicora. She may be insane, but she's still a deity and capable of a different level of pleasure..

And Nicora knows that somehow, some way, she is going to suffer from this. But ... how can she refuse a Goddess? Well, she could, but Gorphat has sort of broken that aspect of her, so she gives in. She learns how to kiss Blakat in all sorts of .. ways, as well as suckle, and well, even thread that tail of hers between her legs and pretend to be a guy! It's almost on the level of Inala debauchery, but it fails in that it's all batcrap crazy!.