Ruined Tower
There are plenty of old ruins at the edge of Babel, some of them ancient. This particular one sits on the slopes of Mount Blakat, and looks like it's been used as a training area for the Slakash - as well as a target for the Temple's catapults and ballistas, given the number of holes in the walls that face the mountain's shrine-fortress.

The old tower is a good place for secret meetings, since few would be crazy enough to get this close to the Temple of Blakat. The holes in the walls also afford a view of the refugee camp and a nearby area that's being set up for potential Day of Blakat contests. Cricket is already there of course, hugging the shadows and making very little noise. It would keep her hidden from any Eeee not specifically searching for someone, but she stands out pretty clearly to the Barsunala's aura senses.

"Quit having fantasies about me," Alptraum remarks as he approaches. "I can sense those thoughts from here..."

"They aren't fantasies!" Cricket protests, and steps out into the open. Her silvered eye gleams in the Procession light. "And you never said you could read minds! That's cheating.."

"How is it cheating?" Alptraum asks as he approaches and leans on a nearby wall. "Now, business matters... The Yodhrephath are wanting information about the current pirate activity; the ones that have managed to kill some of their Yodh. Have you perhaps heard anything I can relay?" he asks.

"I've been looking into some things," Cricket admits, and sniffs. "But mostly I don't think the pirates are acting very piratical. They never go after ships taking goods into Babel. But they always attach the ones bring payment back into Saskanar. That's already pretty suspect. Babel does produce trade goods, but those shipments aren't being touched," the girl explains. "Also, the ships carrying back the cash never seem to be carrying anything else. That's not very efficient. Captains always want cargo."

"That's ... odd. Cash isn't likely to take up the entire hold, so why wouldn't they ship goods too?" Alptraum remarks, ears flicking in confused semaphore. "Does the captain know, or is it the docks 'forgetting' to load cargo?"

"There's no phantom cargo on the dock manifests," Cricket says. "At least none that we could find. Now, when it was the Saskanar Trading Group operating the airships, they did carry cargo. But after getting hit three times, they dropped their contract with Fruitalia Farms - they're the ones who provide the fruit Babel is buying. Insurance reasons, supposedly. Now, they still run other trading operations with Babel, but those aren't being targeted. They're careful about what's being shipped - always things too big or with no way to resell, like large scale farming equipment."

"So, do you think they are behind it, then? Wanted out of their contract? But why would someone be raiding only ships for that farm? Is there another group that could provide fruit but isn't?" Alptraum inquires as he closes his eyes to think for a bit.

"It gets complicated," Cricket laments. "See, most farms in Saskanar belong to an organization called the Eschaton Group, which has some ties - or rather, has some control - within the Saskanar government. Saskanar's fortunes rose significantly when Babel fell out of power and couldn't demand special tariffs anymore. The Eschaton Group really seems like they do not want to see Babel's fortune's return. The rumors are that they're pretty sour because of the outside investment coming into Babel that they feel should be going to Saskanar. Fruitalia is one of the few mega-farms that aren't part of Eschaton."

"So, that group could be, ah, funding these pirates to disrupt trade with that farm," Alptraum notes and nods a little. "So, not quite pirates in the traditional sense. More hired raiders used to attack something specific. Still, why would the ships only be carrying cash and nothing else? That seems really odd. Unless someone at the docks are just pocketing the goods that were supposed to be on board too."

"Well.. Fruitalia had to go with a private shipping firm; Calsorician Shipping," Cricket rattles off, tapping one of her fingers as a memory aid. "They've got two ships, the Cloud Treader and the Pineapple Express. They need both of them to handle the fruit shipments, but only one is used to carry the payment back. Supposedly, neither Captain knows if they have the real strongbox, since they're both weighted the same. But the raiders always hit the correct ship. Fruitalia has been raising their prices in response. So.. they could be behind it too. It gets them out of using STG ships and gives them an excuse to raise prices - while possibly still collecting most of the original payments. It could mean a lot of profit. Even if they reach the Eschaton prices, there's still contractual stuff that the Babel merchants would have to buy them out of in order to switch over."

"Ugh," Alptraum mutters and rubs his forehead. "So, there is no clear evidence pointing to anyone, other than we can probably guess which ship will be attacked. Is it always just money taken? Have people been taken? What do the pirates even look like?" Alptraum asks.

"Occasionally they'll take a hostage, but.. there's never any word after that - no ransom demand. It's more a 'don't follow us' warning," Cricket says. "They have Vartans and Eeee and Korvs - both kinds of Eeee, Babelite and Saskanarian. No identification of any of them though, according the crews. Since Calsorician can't afford to lose either ship, the crew is told not to resist and give them whatever they want. The owners also have family in the crews. It's unlikely that they're in on it, if it's a conspiracy. But for the raiders to know which ship to hit, someone on the Babel end that's actually handling the money transfer must be an informant."

"So, if I tried to infiltrate, I shouldn't expect to be ransomed?" Alptraum inquires as he rubs his chin thoughtfully. "Do you know how many people on the Babel side do handle the money? Surely it cannot be a large list?"

"Well, it's a merchant group that buys the fruit, and they've been doing their own investigation," Cricket notes. "They've tried rotating out the accountants, the bearers, and so on, so that nobody handles the money twice in a row. But there could be multiple people involved, or nobody - pirates have used rogue mages in the past, specifically scryers. The merchants were getting desperate, worried that Fruitalia would start demanding payment in advance, and that's when they started asking the Yodhrephath to get involved."

Alptraum runs his hands through his hair and sighs. "So, really, we have no clues, and any side could be involved," he concludes. "Well, that is disappointing."

"Well.. I have my own opinion," Cricket notes, and grins. "The problem is with how specific it is. See, Eschaton would benefit by trade with Babel being unreliable - before the Yodhrephath began patrolling the main route they were pretty happy with the situation. But then people still tried to set up foreign trade, even if the pirates were kidnapping actual merchants and representatives. But that changed when the Yodhrephath shifted their focus to piracy and Rephidim started making noises about protecting their traders. Saskanar would have liked stronger trade ties to Rephidim, and suddenly the stuff blocking Babel from doing it went away."

"But if Eschaton was really behind it, they'd want a much broader approach," Cricket claims. "The issue is that these raiders only operate on the border, and don't seem to have an airship. They can only hurt trade between Babel and Saskanar, not go after ships from Zannara and Rephidim."

"So, you suspect it's the actual farm itself raiding its own ships, then?" Alptraum inquires, brow arching slightly.

The young Eeee reaches up and tugs on her ears. "It would be more clear-cut if it was! But it could be another group specifically targeting Fruitalia too. There aren't many independent farms, so there's a lot of competition between them. Or it could be a different group with unknown goals! But if I had to go with something, it'd be the apparent victim, Fruitalia. They'd be losing money by the figurative boatload, but Babel is the biggest customer they could possibly have, so it might be worth the risk. Or it could be a test run, or.. I don't have enough to be sure. We'd need to test things. Shadow magic would be really useful for that.."

"Test things how exactly? I happen to know someone at least somewhat skilled with shadow magic," Alptraum points out as he smirks just slightly. "I'm wanting to stop this, and I can get the backing of the Yodhrephath for taking out the pirate base, if it can be located."

"Well, Shadow opposes Light, which is the Sphere used for scrying," Cricket explains. "It's also good for stealth. A good Shadow mage could obscure the money, so if it is being picked out via a scryer, that would block or confuse things. If the ship isn't attacked, or if both ships are attacked, that'd confirm they were using a scryer. Another option would be to obscure the ship instead of the money."

"But hiring a Mage risks losing Yodhrephath support," Cricket notes. "They're pretty prideful."

Alptraum breathes out. "I've never tried obscuring things, just myself. And I do not think I could act on two things at the same time, separated by large distance," he notes sadly.

"I am on good terms with the Mages," Alptraum points out. "I can probably convince the Yodhrephath to overlook it. Besides, one of them is a former mage."

"Well, only the real money needs to be obscured, if that's what.." Cricket starts to say, then stops with her mouth open. "Oh.. I'm bright but sometimes I'm not. The decoy.. I don't know if the same security measures are in place as they've put into keeping the money safe. Something could be going into the weight load that a scryer is already expecting. Finding out which ship has the decoy is the same as knowing which one has the money, isn't it?"

"Well yeah. Knowing where it is not out of a choice of two by default makes you know where it is. That's why the find the ball game uses three cups, not two. It's harder to game," Alptraum says. "But I thought the point was to make it impossible to tell which is which, so they would have to have the same security, or it would be obvious."

Cricket puts her fingers to her forehead and closes her eyes. "How can you tell the difference between a box of shekels and a box of shekel-sized ceramic disks?" she asks.

"Smell," Alptraum suggests, "Also, sound. The clatter will sound slightly different."

"If the box wasn't sound-proofed, or the disks weren't designed to click the same, yes," Alptraum says. "The density of ceramic and of a chitin shekel is quite different and sound different. If you include metal shekels, even moreso. Dagh, if you know there are iron shekels involved ... just use a magnet," Alptraum points out.

"What's a magnet?" Cricket asks. "I suppose I should start by finding out where they get the stuff for the fake box then. The mix of coins in the real cashbox would always be different."

"Aaaand I should probably find out where they get the boxes themselves too.." Cricket adds, rapping her knuckles on her forehead.

"It's a rock that likes to stick to iron," Alptraum explains. "Used in a compass. Oh, you can even tell with a compass; iron can mess it up," he adds.

"I don't know if they use compasses like that on the ships!" Cricket wails. "Gah! I'm a failure!"

Alptraum taps his head. "Lodestones. Lodestones are also magnetic," he says, "IF that helps."

Alptraum rubs his chin more. "You could probably even use a tuning fork. The resonance against a box can tell you how full it is. I know this because, er, we used that trick back in Sylvania," he admits.

"Well.. that can't be typical sailing gear, right?" Cricket asks, perking up. "No reason for a sailor to have one, I mean?"

"Well ... you could pretend it's a mouth-harp," Alptraum admits, "But that's rather stretching it."

"I thought sailors only played pipes and fiddles and.. those accordion boxes. What are they called?" Cricket muses. "Oh.. I do have some more actual information though!"

"Yes, I am the best lay in Babel. Hardly new information though," Alptraum jokes. "Or ... did you have something else?"

"It's the Cloud Treader's First Mate's birthday tomorrow," Cricket says, smiling again. "Or today.. Saskanar uses daytime-nighttime instead of nighttime-daytime to mark days. But her captain was going to take her to Inala's Paradise to celebrate. He's a Vartan, Janik Parso, and she's a Saskanarian Eeee, Lilitu Titus. She's the daughter of one of the Calsorician owners."

"And you're thinking they could be proverbially pumped for information, hmm?" Alptraum asks as he arches his brow a little.

"An information pump.." Cricket muses for a moment, then blinks. "Well, I don't know about that.. just where they will be if you want to observe or approach them." Then she smiles wide and asks, "Would you have pumped me for information?"

"I've already pumped you," Alptraum points out. "Oh, one more question ... about the hostages, is there anything common about those they take?"

"Non-flyers, which isn't a big surprise," Cricket notes. "Always mammals though, no Naga or Jingai. Most non-flyers on airships are Skreeks or Lapi, below-decks or rigging sorts. The Saskanar ships usually have a lot of the more dexterous sorts, since the Saskie's don't have proper hands and Vartans have fat fingers." She holds up her own fingers and wiggles them. "Hardly ever have Babelite Eeee as crew."

"But nothing that distinctive? Wealth? Position? Status?" Alptraum inquires, curious. He also leans in and for whatever reason known to him, licks those fingers.

"Well.. no, always crew," Cricket notes. "Which of course make me wonder if those were the secret informants. Can't be caught out if they're 'abducted' after all. Mostly though It's a weight and saddle issue. The raiders use Rakhtors for the most part. They tend to eat lizards."

"Hah, if they were the informants, that would make sense. It would also complicate infiltration, alas," Alptraum admits and sighs.

"But I don't think they ever carry passengers," Cricket notes. "But, you can mind-read the crew, right, to see if anyone is suspicious?"

"I can sense impressions. It's not exactly mind-reading," Alptraum points out. "So if someone was nervous, or trying to be deceptive, I would probably pick up on it."

"I didn't get far enough to find out how they replace the ones that get taken," Cricket apologizes. "The crews are pretty hard to get to open up. For some reason they don't seem to trust cute innocent Babelite girls!"

"You are anything but innocent," Alptraum points out and taps his chin. "And oh, I have some information that I'm not sure I should tell you."

"Will it help me find out more?" Cricket asks. "Is it a confession of your love for me?"

"No, and ... no," Alptraum remarks. "More something Barada suggested to me recently."

"Or perhaps I should call her the Countess Princess Vearraneechee," Alptraum muses.

"A Countess Princess?" Cricket gasps! "Barada is so wonderful, isn't She? What did She suggest, Barsunala?" The girl's eyes are very wide now.

"That you be my official and personal Yodhbarada, of course," Alptraum notes, "As sort of a permanent, well, job."

"I'm good at not dying so far," Cricket claims. "And I've never let you down, have I?"

"Well, no," Alptraum concedes, "But I'll think about it. There should be some sort of test."

"As long as I don't have to best Tulani in a fight," Cricket says. "She'd wreck me and then I couldn't serve you properly!"

Cricket goes quiet and seems to be strategizing behind her eyes. "Hmmm. That would be tricky. I don't have Yodhinala training, after all! But she's not that much older than me.. well, quite a bit though really, even if not in actual years. She probably likes shiny stuff though. And food. Hmmmm.." she ponders.

Alptraum shakes his head and laughs. "I was kidding. I'll think on it more. When was this event at PAradise supposed to be? I'll have to decide who to send," he muses.

"I think it is tonight, but I'm not sure if it is an event," Cricket says, blushing slightly at jumping the gun on Alptraum's supposed testing. "The Calsorician crews aren't exactly flush with cash. They don't get paid until the return to Saskanar, for obvious reasons! And I'm not sure the officers earn more than the crew, especially if they're part of the owning families. They have a stake in the overall success of the company, and they aren't too well established yet."

"That doesn't help me decide who to send," Alptraum admits, "I could send a bunny, or, well, an Aeonian. People would react quite differently to each. Heh, I could even send Nikky, but she might scare everyone."

"Well.. is there a reason you couldn't send both?" Cricket asks. It may be genuine curiosity, or Yodhbarada reflex.

"Because only one can exist at a time. I cannot maintain two constructs," Alptraum admits.

"Oh.. but one could arrange a second meeting with the other, right?" Cricket asks.

"Maybe? I am not quite sure," Alptraum muses and rubs his chin, "But how they react to one may imply things about the other, I suppose."

"Well, they've probably never met an Aeonian," Cricket supposes. "Lapi are pretty common in Saskanar though, with its focus on vegetable and fruit farming."

"Whichever way you decide to approach them, I'll work on my end to find out about the crew replacements and where the boxes and ballast come from," Cricket says, and salutes Alptraum. "Do I get a kiss?"

Alptraum grabs the back of Cricket's head and bends it back when he kisses her, complete with tongue. It's brief, and then she's released and he smirks.

The girl giggles, then bites her lip and winks before vanishing through one of the ruined walls facing away from the Temple of Blakat.

Alptraum just shakes his head. "I really shouldn't encourage her so," he mutters to himself. "And now I have to go to the brothel ... er, club, and pretend to be a one-horned mule. It'll be hard enough just finding the right clothing for that..."

Inala's Paradise
The interior of this club is huge. It's as if all but the necessary support columns and trusses had been removed to create a single, circular chamber. There are no openings to the outside save the entrance, but there are stairs and elevated walks around the perimeter, revealing a second level of rooms. The walls are painted with fantastic cloudscapes and gardens and palaces, all reminiscent of the Paradise created by the great Dream Ritual of not so very long ago. Statues of Inala dot the varied landscape, possibly looted from the original temple itself.

What goes with black? More black. Flowing black. Lace and petticoats, intricately braided velvet vests that push up and out an already pronounced chest, and egad, even a parasol. That's what the black unicorn is wearing when she enters through the club doors and lets out a sort of whinny-sigh. With a flick of her delicate, yet thickish fingers, she collapses the parasol and rests it lightly on one shoulder. She then shakes out her head, making her white mane ripple, and the dual-chain that links from the tip of her horn down to each ear jangle in the 'breeze'. "I suppose this will do," she says in a melodic, yet husky, sort of voice.

The unicorn is immediately surrounded by well dressed Eeee (some even wearing white gloves) that offer to escort her. In the distance, there's a Rhian's snort from the massage area.

"Gentlemen, please," the unicorn says and raises her free hand. "Allow a lady some time to see a place before trying to court her," she requests politely.

"Of course, give her some room," two men say in unison then glare at one another. But it does leave Unicora free to move.. although a staffer is at her side in the next moment, holding a platter with a choice of drinks on it.

The unicorn selects a drink from the tray, daintily lifting it with two fingers, then sipping from it with her cervine-like lips. "Thank you, sir," she tells him, "I hear that many traders tend to come here to relax?"

The Khatta server nods slightly, and says, "Nobles, merchants and travellers come here, m'lady. We have various forms of gaming and entertainment, as well as more physical means of relaxation and pleasure. Are you looking to experience local flavor, or some other indulgence?"

"I am here to meet people and perhaps discuss business prospects," Unicora claims after another sip from her drink. "Although, experiencing some local flavor and pleasures would not be entirely remiss."

"Well, is there a particular sort of business you are interested in?" the feline asks, and studies the mare as if trying to place her accent. "Or pleasure? We have talented masseuses, a communal pool, steam lounge and a hookah bar, for example. These are often places where merchants and traders relax and network."

"Massage is always appreciated," Unicora notes, "And I am exploring possibilities of trade for a certain county in Sylvania primarily. Just seeing if there is interest, of course."

The server's eyebrows perk at that tidbit - since there's only one Sylvanian County that anyone actually knows by name, if they know of the country at all. And given the general dislike of Gallisians in Babel, Sylvania is likely to at least be known about in more educated circles. "Please follow me then, m'lady," the server offers, and then asks, "How should I announce you, if you desire such?"

"You may call me Willow Embermane, if you wish," the Unicorn (aka Unicora) replies. She should try to have a decent name, at least. She also offers the servant her parasol to store.

The name at least seems properly witchy, which should be appropriate for Sylvania. And it isn't like anyone is likely to know actual Aeonian naming standards, if any exist. "As you wish, Lady Embermane," the man says, tucking the parasol neatly under one arm while still carrying his tray with the other. Momentary silence follows them like a wake, and people take notice. They divert away from the stage towards the corner set aside for massages, with it's variety of tables to suit different body types.. and no real privacy. There is already an Eeee woman being tended to, with an upturned leaf-tip nose and integral wing-arms. On a bench next to her is a somewhat dour looking Vartan dressed in a suit that doesn't quite fit, and an Eeee man clutching a drink to his chest. The working masseuse is a nude Rhian woman (whom 'Willow' knows as Melonny) while her twin brother stands ready for whomever else shows up - otherwise known as Bud, to someone who'd know.

"I feel like a one-woman parade," Willow thinks as silence follows in her wake. "Excuse me," she says politely to the Eeee and vartan, "I do hope I am not intruding on your time. If you wish, I can go elsewhere and leave you in peace." She's pretty sure these are the two from the ship, at least, Saskanar and Vartan, hardly that common to be together.

The Vartan and Eeee both seem to snap out of there thoughts to gape at Willow, as if uncertain what they are seeing. The Eeee girl on the table doesn't really react, but her eyes are closed anyway as Melonny works her shoulders. "Don't mind us," the Vartan replies as his companion sniffs his drink. "We're just watching after our companion on the table."

"You aren't traders by chance?" the unicorn asks as she finds a table she can lay herself on (clothed, of course)! "I'm an agent of a certain county in Sylvania looking to expand trade and I am looking for possible partners in Babel," she notes as she lies on her belly and sighs softly.

Bud comes up next to Willow, and seems put off by her dress. "Are there any places you are extremely sensitive or sore?" he asks.

The unicorn looks up and at his expression. "Oh, am I supposed to undress?" she actually asks him. "I am not partocularly sore in any place, just perhaps a bit stiff in my shoulders and legs."

"Well, we're traders, but not exactly Babel based," the Vartan notes. The man next to him, having decided he's not hallucinating from his drink says, "Well, I'm Babel-based, but.. more on the importing side of things. Foodstuffs. Sylvania is.. very far off, isn't it?"

"I can undress you if you wish," Bud offers. Women in fancy dresses don't do their own dressing and undressing, he assumes. And the petticoats would certainly get in the way.

"Then please go ahead," Willow tells Bud. To the others, she says, "Oh, quite a long way. It can be a several week trip and a bit dangerous. But, also rewarding. Many ancient artifacts come from there, as well as some of the best Ironwood and Thistlebark."

"Ironwood is always in demand," the Vartan notes. "I'm not familiar with Thistlebark, however."

Bud helps Willow back to her feet, and takes a moment to puzzle out her complicated attire (since Babelite women usually keep to a single layer). He starts with the corset.

It's over a dozen ties to undo the corset, and surprisingly even without it, the unicorn has a very dainty waist and impressive breeder-width hips anyway! "Oh, it's mostly used for destroying the undead and blocking magic," Willow explains to the Vartan. Most magic won't have any effect upon it, in fact, particularly those around life magic."

"Destroying the undead?" the Vartan asks, perking up. "Ghosts and zombies? And blocking most magic?" A Vartan certainly would be interested in defenses against magic. "Is it shiny?"

The upper and lower parts of the dress are slightly less complicated for Bud. It's just a matter of getting through each layer, especially the petticoats. Which means Willow's breasts are exposed first. Which also gets some wide eyed glances from the seated men.

"Not particularly. It looks dull and unassuming unless polished and lacquered," Willow notes as she holds her arms above her head. Egad, unicorn boobs seem to almost float on their own; they have perkiness at size many would envy. "But it is quite useful."

Bud whickers softly, then lifts Willow up onto the table. "Do you wish to have your horn polished as well?" the stallion asks.

"IF you do ... just be gentle about it. It is sensitive to touch," Willow notes after some thought.

"How expensive is this miraculous wood?" the Vartan asks. Meanwhile, But continues to arrange Willow, spreading her long legs and arms for better access before starting on her shoulders. He's very aware of how 'hard' his fingers are, since he can't feel much feedback through them, and never uses more force than is needed.

Willow goes mmmgpth. "Hmm? Cost? Depends on how much you want of course. Small amounts or sizes are easy as small trees are harvested often. Large amounts or large pieces can cost a lot more as it just isn't common. It is cheaper than sapient wood, though. The kind used to make golem chests that walk on their own. But my, those haven't been made in a long time, not seen the Wizard Zehn, really," she goes on. "Anyway, a cane-sized amount would be a couple hundred shekels. A chest or more sized amount and you can be talking gold shekel range."

"So, too expensive for crossbow bolts," the Vartan muses. "Maybe just the tips!" his Eeee cohort suggests, apparently interested now. "Or the outer part of shields. Oh.. woven into the lines of weighted nets!" He seems to be focusing more on the anti-undead uses than the anti-magic ones.

"The chest would be worth more than the contents though," the Eeee merchant points out. "There'd need to be a use for smaller amounts. But.. a small amount might still be effective against scrying, perhaps."

Bud works carefully down Willow's back to her narrow waist, using more relaxing motions than kneading ones this time.

"Is chest scrying a problem?" Willow asks, trying to sound innocent. "A wooden bra would be uncomfortable." She swishes her leonine tail all about when bud reaches her narrow waist.

The Rhian grunts when he gets swatted with the tail, and gives Willow a light pinch on her butt.. before he starts kneading it a but more forcefully.

"Oh.. well, most chests of.. your nature.. may be the subject of scrying," the Eeee merchant notes, "but that's not much of an issue for most of the population here.."

"Legs anchored in butt, so it's often tense," Bud explains as he squeezes. "Tense butt is bad for your posture."

"Right," Willow remarks, not entirely convinced of that. "So, where are you two from, if not Babel?"

"I hail from Saskanar," the Vartan replies. "Captain Janik of the Cloud Treader. The woman on the table here is my first mate, Lilitu, but my companion here is from Babel."

"Ah, yes, the farming community? I don't suppose you have any need of hogs. Sylvania tends to have an abundance of them," Willow comments, "Especially after each attempt by Gallis to bother my home county."

"Makkel Loovis," the Eeee introduces himself, and raises his drink to Willow. "Uh.. I trade in fruits and nuts. They used to be luxuries in Babel, but we're trying to make them staples. For health and sanitation reasons. And when fruit goes bad, you can still ferment it."

"Hogs.. seen those at the docks here," Janik notes. "We don't transport animals.. yet. But lots of hog farms where the soil isn't so good, or the weather is too harsh. They take care of the stuff that can't be turned back into the soil."

"We could export some, if required. Some have a rare condition that causes them to grow curly hair, but you can pay it no mind," Willow comments as she stretches a bit and wiggles her cloven hooves.

But finally moves on to Willow's thighs, working to break down any tension in the muscles.

"Are you looking to import anything to Sylvania?" Janik asks. "I recall the weather is poor. We can preserve fruit in honey for long voyages."

"Sylvania needs many things. Preserved fruits would be appreciated since it's difficult to farm in overcast weather. Finer fabrics would help as well. Also wine as our own vineyards are is disrepair, outside of a few that still produce Mephisto wine."

"I've not heard of that sort of wine," Makkel claims, and eyes his drink. "I.. somewhat recall Sylvanian wines being highly sought after. Bottles are very rare now."

"Wiiine," Lilitu murmurs, and then Melonny nudges her a bit. "Time to turn over hon," the mare tells her.

"Mephisto wine is laced with the memories and dreams of those who have passed from this world," Willow explains, "And allows you to experience them as if you were them. Dancing upon the aprapets of a long forgotten castle as a duke of a once proud house, and things along that line. And yes, Sylvania was once one of the best wine producing lands, but much of that is gone, and yes, wine in general is rare there."

"That Mephisto stuff sounds amazing," Makkel gasps. "Is it magic or something else? I'd think the Guild would try to regulate something like that." Janik's neck feathers puff out at the mention of magic wine, or because his First Mate is on her back displaying everything the's got (which isn't much, even for an adult Saskanarian Eeee - but it's clear that she's female at least).

"I'm sure there are many things Saskanar can offer," Janik claims. "Even grapes!"

"I think it's slightly magic, but I don't know for sure how it works, exactly. I have only sampled it once," Willow apologizes. "There are odder things collected i Sylvania, like grave worm goo ... but that isn't used for normal activities."

After marveling at Willow having two toes per foot while he massages her shins, Bud tells Willow, "Time for you to roll over now."

"We have lots of worms in Babel," Makkel notes. "But I don't think the Yodhsunala would tolerate grave worms. What is this goo used for?"

Willow rolls over, and with her twin peaks and fluffy and defined, well, mons, there is no question that she is female. "I honestly don't know for sure, it's collected by some weird women who lure monsters into traps," she admits.

While Melonny is work on Lilitu's legs and feet still (since they are the primary manipulators for that breed of Eeee) Bud goes straight to Willow's breasts. His broad hands rub and knead over them, and he actually does work some of the connective tissues that probably feel the strain of them the most.

"Those weren't sore," Willow notes to Bud looking rather amused. She shifts a bit, and given how her legs are spread, the Vartain is getting an unobstructed view of the Unicorn's Sanctuary.

Of course, kneading the mare's breasts can't help but reveal their unusual nature - she's the only Aeonian that lactates. Which leads to Bud having to use his tongue to keep things from getting too messy.

"The goo.." Makkel starts to ask, but gets sidetracked by the display. Maybe leaving it at 'goo' probably isn't very appropriate though.

"Why did you have to do that?" Willow complains. "I get enough stares because of my coloration."

"I didn't know you had this condition, m'lady," Bud apologizes, and tries to keep things under control by actually suckling. And tugging as well.

"Of course!" Makkel volunteers, running to a side table to fetch one. Once he gets into proximity though, he can't help but sneak a lick on the untended breast.. which leads to him immediately glomping onto the teat as well. He does use the towel, but mainly to knead further himself. This leaves Bud with a free hand though, which ends up between the unicorn's legs.

"Hey, Mack, I don't think that's what she meant.." Janik notes, and starts to get up.

"Gah!" goes Willow as she starts batting and pushing a bit at the men. A bit, because, well, it's hard to really focus when being both nursed on and having a large finger suddenly exploring things down below.

Janik arrives and carefully tries to pry his business partner off of Willow. "I'm really sorry.. I don't know what's come over him," he apologizes for Makkel, but does get him to let go. Mainly because the Eeee is very wobbly from the milk.

Willow looks horribly embarrassed and tries to cover herself. "It's ... kinda okay. I know I have odd effects on men," she admits, tinges of Sylvanian accent bleeding through.

"Odd effects?" Janik asks, holding the Eeee up with one arm and eyeing the stallion. "Do you need some help with the big one?" he asks.

"I'm sure he'll stop soon," Willow claims and whinnes a bit "And yes, Aeonian milk can make some men, ah ... very lustful?" she offers.

"I can see that," the Vartan notes, looking down toward the stallion's crotch. "Are you sure he'll stop?" he asks with a bit of concern. Of course, Bud does stop suckling just then, but only to bury his long snout between Willow's legs to explore her Sacred Grove with his very large tongue. The Vartan does help cover the unicorn's breasts with the towel though.

And Willow ends up grabbing the vartan between the legs in surprise when the Stallion 'parts the gates' so to speak with that massive tongue! Her back also arches!

The Vartan's back arches as well, and his feathers poof out quite a bit. He also goes 'urk' and nearly drops his friend, whose mind is probably floating somewhere in the chandeliers at this point. "Would you like me to make him stop?" Janik wheezes.

"I don't knooooowwwwww," the Unicorn whinnies as she starts, well, groping the vartan! To the point she's pulling his pants off.

"Uh.." the captain grunts, not sure of what to do.. besides react to the groping and depantsing in a predictable way. "Let me.." he says, then tries to drop his friend as gently as possible to the floor. After that, he gives Bud a bonk on the head, stunning him enough that he can pick up Willow and sling her back over his shoulder.

The Vartan's wing makes it hard to tell what's happening as well, but Lilitu soon appears over the captain's other shoulder. "Oh.. hello?" she says to Willow. "I'm Lilly.. are you a friend of Janik's?"

"I don't know?" Willow admits to the Eeee. "I'm Willow Embermane," she says, "We were just discussing trade, then things got weird."

"Oh, well, this is Babel, you know," the girl says, as the Vartan carries them off.. without tripping over his own pants. Hooves make it easy to step out of them though. A moment later they're all in a private room.

And Willow is rubbing around the base of her horn. "I am ... sorry about that," she apologizes. "I am not used to Babel and its proclivities."

"Sorry for that, but.. uh, you were squeezing me and.. didn't seem inclined to let go," Janik says, and sets the women down on a bed. "Hoo!" Lilitu says, and points. "That's your main mast, Janny? We could hang extra sail from it!"

Willow covers her face and apologizes again. "This is not how trade negotiations are done," she mutters to herself.

"Well.. we haven't actually negotiated anything yet," the Vartan notes, trying to pat down his feathers.. but not looking away from Willow. "We're a transport company, but we have some contacts back in Saskanar that could be interested.." Of course, now that he's standing and Willow is sitting, he's sort of bobbing close to her face.

And the mare ends up ... playing with it. "I might wish to speak with them, but I would have to travel there, no?" she asks.

It probably doesn't help when Lilitu says, "I wish I had proper hands now." Janik doesn't resist either.. it's not like he's being grabbed this time. "Well, we do ship out again in a few days, once our.. once we're ready to go. We'll be light and fast, but our route hasn't been decided yet. We try to vary it as much as possible.. Oh.. we lost your towel.. you're leaking a bit.."

"Mmmf?" goes Willow? By the time she's looking up, the Vartan's mast is completely in her long muzzle. Why? Even she doesn't know! It just seemed like the thing to do?

Janik is momentarily speechless. "Oh.. that's very nice.." he finally whispers. "Your horn is very shiny," he then adds and starts stroking it with a talon.

The unicorn mumbles something, but with a full mouth, well. And the touch on her horn makes her shiver ... and that makes her head bob, and soon, well, the mare's mouth is doing quite a job of mast-polishing.

"Ohh," the Vartan says, and is trembling. If he moves his hips (as the way his buttocks clench suggests he wants to) he could cause some mutual injury. "Lady Willow," he warns, "you should know that I have not been with a woman in quite some time, and this will get very messy soon.."

If the unicorn heard any of that she doesn't seem to act like it. Or maybe it's the touch on her horn making her all mushy-brained. Either way, she seems to not intend to stop what she's doing; and those large cervine lips and tongue do feel rather nice.

"Good luck!" Lilitu says, and evacuates the blast radius to the other side of the room. And none too soon! Janik lets loose a squawk and grabs fully onto Willow's horn, just before he erupts with his own milk. Which isn't narcotic, at least.

The unicorn tries to contain most of it! She manages reasonably well, too, but egad he wasn't kidding and soon she has to pull her jaws off ... and that leaves her face and chest soon very sticky. After coughing, she whimpers. "I cannot believe I did that," she complains.

"There's a bath we can use," Janik notes shakily. "I owe you a cleaning at least. Do you.. like.. Vartans?"

"Yes?" Willow admits as she ... wipes some of the goo off. "Why does your first mate not keep you from being so ... pent up?"

"I'd probably die if I came to close to that!" Lilitu notes. "And.. uh.. we aren't a couple. This is the first time he's even seen me naked. And I'm sure it isn't a memorable moment for him.."

"Well, you don't put it in you. You can straddle it and rub," WIllow points out.

"Well.. after cleaning up we can see how rusty I really am," Janik says, and shoots Lilitu a glare. "Don't be getting ideas, Lily. I'm still mentoring you, after all."

Lilitu raises one of her feet and makes a stroking motion with it once Janik isn't looking her way again.

Willow gestures to the Vartan and nods. "Right, bath. That would be good," she agrees a moment later. "And I didn't taste any rust on that, so you must be at least hand-polishing now and then..."