Mr. Sackcloth did not carry Willow back to Mr. Bright's room. He instead went straight across the tunnel past Mr. Slither into another cell-like room, albeit one with the latch on the inside. It was already lamp-lit, and had a sturdy straw-bed. Otherwise it had the same furniture as in Willow's cell, except there weren't any restraint points in the walls and it had a trunk and some wobbly-looking shelves with a few books on them. It even had an inkwell and quill on the table, along with a small pitcher and washbasin.

"Why was I brought here?" Willow inquires when she's set down on her hooves. She rubs her forehead a bit, at the base of her horn. "Is everything all right?"

"Yes, just wanted to spend a little private time with you.. if you're interested?" the big horse asks.

"Really? How come? You have never really seemed the sort to really want such things," Willow admits as she walks over and then settles her rump on the bed, and flicks her tail around into her lap. There, she plays with her tailtip. "Admittedly, you are, ah, rather large in those ways, but it is not unpleasant."

"Well, I'm a bit nervous about the impending escape attempt," the stallion admits, leaning against the opposite wall. "So hoping for some stress relief."

"Oh? That sort, hmm?" Willow asks, looking amused. She gestures for him to approach, and adds, "Drop 'em."

So the nurse does as she commands, dropping his trousers and kicking them free from his hooves.

And now that he's close, Willow brings up her hands to lift and cup the horse's rather, ah, impressiveness. She dips her head in and licks along it, from tip all the way up to try and help start things. On the way back down, she lips along it.

Sackcloth whickers and his muscles tense. He responds quite eagerly to the stimulation, and places his hands up against the ceiling to brace himself.

Willow keeps this up, where the thicker equine lips and tongue can be quite effective. She's slow, methodical, and even dares to take the rhian into her mouth and carefully shifts, leans, and adjusts until she finds the comfortable (relatively) position to do it.

The man snorts, and leers down at Willow with definite lust in his eyes now. He even moves his head to one side to see past the action down into Willow's cleavage, since she's just got her borrowed shirt tied in front (there's no way buttoning it would have worked).

It's rather difficult to find the right position, but once she does, she impressively actually manages to kiss her lips into his crotch. Then it's a matter of easy glides back, then forward, at this angle, and making sure she doesn't tab him in the gut, too! It's disturbingly reminiscent of Rhugharo, except it isn't painful!

"This.. could get dangerous.." Sackcloth huffs, his own tail fanning the air behind him. He also keeps an eye on that horn, even if Willow is managing this with her head tilted away.

Willow keeps this up, then draws back to keep a safe distance. How her head moves only partially, and her hands make up the rest to ensure all of him is being ... stroked.

The snorting is much louder now, and Sackcloth's flanks are trembling. "This is.. maddening," the stallion claims, things twitching under Willow's grasp. She can definitely feel his pulse!

Maddening was her goal! Willow never sops her movement, and her ears twitch in terribly amusement. She also uses her hands to squeeze tight to make things feel even more pent.

This produces actual whinnies now, along with wide eyes and a bit of foam around Sackcloth's lips. He stomps the ground once with his left hoof, making quite the thudding sound.

And Willow never lets up, not for a moment. In fact, she gets faster at it, and those equine lips tighten a bit more and drag-stretch with each movement. Then her tail flicks up and she tickles his danglies with that tail tuft.

"Aaugh!" Sackcloth blurts, and suddenly paints the wall behind Willow - along with a bit of her shoulder.

Willow ducks and bursts out giggling with the blows! "That better not be all," she teases as the poor horse twitches and otherwise probably can't see straight.

This surprises Willow and she whinnies now! "Er, well, hello!" she says now being held by the stallion.

The man dips his head down, and uses a thick finger to tip Willow's chin upwards so he can give her an actual kiss.

"Mmmph!" goes Willow as she almost goes limp in his arm. She now wraps her arms around him so she doesn't fall backwards. Her head tilts a little to the side too, and returns that kiss.

Since they're already kissing, Sackcloth doesn't need to keep his hand under his chin, so reaches down with with both hands to pop Willow's breasts up out of her shirt and give them a good squeeze.

This causes all sorts of sensations ... including after a bit of feeling damp above and below. She's already, well, lactating with those practiced hands. The down below wetness is, well, to be expected! She was that from what she was doing earlier; dirty mare.

Sackcloth certainly notices the wetness against his hands, and swings Willow down onto the bed! He breaks the kiss only to lip his way down to the nipples to start nursing.

There's a mix of an eeeee and a whinny as she's suddenly going back onto the bed! When the kissing shifts to nursing she bites her lower lip and arches, pressing her chest up into those lips.

The stallion gets her shirt untied before going on to squeezes and kneed while suckling, switching as needed to keep things even and making good uses of his broad tongue when it comes to creating suction.

This means Willow is making all sorts of noises now, though not as wild as the stallion's were earlier. Still, she's grasping at his head, ears, and intermittently petting him as he nurses. Why does this always have to feel so good?

With a snort that Willow can feel against her collarbone, Sackcloth pulls his head back, letting go of the teat at the last moment. He stands and looms a bit, then reaches down to untie the makeshift rope belt of the mare's pants before pulling them off in a single sweeping motion.

Willow lifts her butt just in time for it to come free without too much friction! "You are pent up," she teases, then boops him right on the nose.

"Mmm, but not for long," the stallion replies, and lifts up Willows hips and drags her towards the foot the bed, until she's really just resting on her shoulders. He pushes into her just enough that he can then ram into to the hilt!

When that happens, Willow arches up hard and whinnies loudly! Holy crud, that felt like she was going to be split in two! He fits, but barely. This makes her insides spasm and clench a few times too until things settle down and grip more, well, normally.

Sackcloth waits for Willow's muscles to relax before doing it again. This time he has her knees hooked over his arms at least, to prevent them from going all akimbo.

That earns another whinny, and a grunt. "You're ... wow, okay, you like rough," she gasps out as she arches again. "This is not a bad thing..."

"This isn't rough," Sackcloth claims as he bucks hard again. "This is.. warm-up stretches.."

That comes with a grunt from Willow! She swears he feels like he's halfway to her chest when he does that! It also triggers involuntary muscle clenching after each one, which might be what he was going for! Her hands flail a moment, then she grabs onto the bed to try and keep herself stable.

It isn't clear if the horse sees that as a challenge, since he picks up the pace, but still keeps up the full-depth gallop. "This isn't hurting you, is it?" he asks.

"Not at all," Willow gasps, "I'm loving it!" Each time he buries completely, she almost sees stars! She can't help herself and arches while hands clench onto the bed and her insides clench on him! The big guys; she always goes for the big guys, no matter the form it seems.

At the point where the pace requires him to keep leaning forward, Sackcloth finally lowers Willow fully onto the bed, but keeps her legs elevates as he keeps driving in and out, not even using his hips yet so he keep things as straight as possible.

Willow hooks her legs around him to help his thrusts out. Each impact she can feel up through her ears. The whinnies are shifting to gasps and moans, and her muscle control is less spasmatic and more clenching-control.

When Sackcloth senses things getting more.. erratic.. he finally switches to his hips and galloping thrusts, snorting and starting to foam again.

Willow is starting to grab and pull at him with ever appendage she can. She's arching, crying, whinnying, moaning, and otherwise making an unholy racket as she hip-battles with him and her world is all starts and surges of pleasure.

Now there are flecks of foam getting onto Willow, as Sackcloth gives a serious of back-arching, hip-bending deep thrusts before he erupts again.

Willow is already in the throes of one very long and mind-shatteringly intense wave of pleasure when the stallion peaks! All she feels in a wonderful sensation of warmth and being very full, and sort of like a water balloon!

Or course, when Sackcloth slumps.. like a sack cloth full of heavy things.. Willow is right under him.

At least the stallion rolls off to the side before completely squishing Willow. He's still panting and foaming slightly.

Eeee, Willow has to roll with him since she's impaled on him! "Holy good Gods," poor Willow gasps, "I won't walk for a week."

Now that she's on top, the evil mare starts moving her hips slowly. Maybe she wants to be stuck for a while.

Sackcloth whickers softly, puts his hands on Willow's hips, and starts bouncing her up and down.

Willow sits up and rides the horse now! She's all nicely stretched now, ao movement is smooth and comfortable, and tight enough to be enjoyable but not hurt either side. "You're lucky I can't get pregnant, you know," she teases Sackcloth.

"Howso?" the stallion asks. "I wouldn't think Rhians and Aeonians could mix anyway!" He tries pulling Willow forward into more of an angle, both to give himself more room to move.. and so she's pounding down against his sensitive parts as much.

"We're magic, or so I'm told," Willow points out as she leans forward more so that she's more pushing backwards and down instead of just down. She's still quite full, so it sort of feels like she's a butter churn.

Sackcloth can uses his hips more now, so goes with the deep thrusting again, making everything shake on Willow. "I'm as unmagical as you can get.. outside of a Vartan," he claims.

Willow's eyes close and she just rides the glow and sensations, and tries to not giggle at the sounds it is making in this position. "Stitch is somewhat magical, though I think he doesn't want to know that," she points out.

"He's had magic done to him anyway," Sackcloth grunts, and has to dip his head forward to catch one of Willow's breasts with his tongue so he 'recharge' himself a bit.

"Mrrpth!" goes Willow at the surprise nursing. She's not complaining, though; it does feel rather nice and encourages her to go faster!

This makes for some tugging, at least on the breast in Sackcloth's grasp. The other just flops about a bit from the motion. The stallion lets Willow drive for the moment as well, so he doesn't have to focus on two different activities!

And drive Willow does! She also uses one free hand to keep her other breast from bouncing because ... that rather hurts! The tugging, though, that just aids in milking her because it's sort of a teat-pulling action anyway. In any event, she foces on her hit movements, adding in some twist-grinding as well clenching as she slides along, and then completely hilts herself on, the stallion.

After switching breasts, Sackcloth starts bucking again like a good bronco. This time it's fast enough that Willow can feel his other bits slapping against her butt as well.

After a good few minutes of that, Willow is right back into that pleasure place and feeling all warm, tingly and surge-y of pleasure with each deep-hilt. The room sounds like it's a breeding paddock for some rather wild animals, most likely. Good thing the walls are thick here and sound doesn't go that far!

The smell of straw may help with the illusion, and Sackcloth seems content with the pace (he's certainly not going to benefit from rushing at this point). It's definitely got some bucolic elements, what with churning butter and milking the livestock.

Soon the unicorn is bucking wildly and neighing loudly when she hits another hard climax that runs for a good five minutes. When it all does finally pass, she's seeing stars and lots of blur as she slumps forward and ontop of the stallion. "Hurgle," she says intelligently.

It takes Sackcloth a bit longer, but having Willow lying atop him makes it easier for him to go a lot faster. He certainly isn't at full charge, but it's enough to make his eyes roll back. "Unggg," he moans.

"Good lord, man, you still have more?" Willow moans from where she lays limply on top of him. She's spent; so he has to do all the work now!

"I wouldn't be surprised," Willow admits, and doesn't comment on her Inala associations and her enjoyment of being able to liquefy men's minds.

Lord Kazukiko's Chambers
The main guest suite of Hestia's Hearth has been partially transformed for a foreign visitor. Himaatian rugs and decorations have been replaced by Jadaiian tapestries and art, although the bed is largely unchanged; a large four-post bed with a canopy and gauze side curtains. The pulley-driven palm fans on the ceiling turn silently, while the low table has been replaced by an even lower one, surrounded by Zolk sitting cushions. Chambers to either side are hidden by light curtains, and skylights and windows provide light until the lamps are needed.

Koldesh, High-Priestess of Rephath, is a bit confused. Aside from the foreign chamber, she finds herself in a belly-dancer's outfit, complete with all of the bells and bangles. It isn't exactly scandalous for a Babelite, but she does wonder what's keeping it up, given the way she tends to more of a triangular, wide-shouldered torso with little in the way of built-in buoyancy or hips.

And holding a leash connected to a collar around her neck is none other Than Alptraum. Grinning white teeth against darkness and silvery eyes. He's shirtless, save for some decorative gold necklaces. As for pants, he's wearing deep purple silky pants that billow and flow about his legs, complete with bell-bangles around each ankle. "Well well well, what do we have here? Ah, yes one of my wives," he teases and even gives the chain a playful tug. "And so nicely dressed to serve me..."

Koldesh arches one eyebrow and gives Alptraum a stoic stare. "You are going to explain this," she says, definitely more of a statement than a question.

"I am having a little fun," Alptraum explains, that grin still upon his face. "Why should I contact people in boring ways when I can be so creative. What, are you now denying you are my wife?"

"I'm wondering what this is," Koldesh says, gesturing with a hand. "Certainly not one of my dreams. And.. a leash?" she asks.

Alptraum uses it to try and tug Koldesh closer. "This is a room designed on an Abu Dhabi harem, of course. Where the wives live and serve their husbands," he explains. "And here I thought you would be happy to see me."

"I'm intrigued," Koldesh notes, and tugs back on the leash to try and bring Alptraum to her. "Aren't you going to offer me any tea or beer?"

"Ah, but you are supposed to serve me," Alptraum points out as he counter-tugs. "But, I suppose I could summon some tea." And well, he does so; namely he tries to alter the current territory to now include a table with a teapot and cups upon it; Kazukiko had tea, if he remembers correctly, so it should be similar to something he has seen before.

Of course, this produces Kazuhiko's tea set.. which is a bit more complicated than just brewing tea in a pot. "I'm willing to serve you," Koldesh says with a grin. "But where will we find a large enough platter? But.. I suppose I could dance for you," she relents.

"Okay, good reply. I approve," Alptraum laughs at the part about serving him. The dance part makes his left ear twitch. "Oh?" he purrs. "I would like to see this dance..."

"I'll need a sword," Koldesh says, and holds out her right hand. "Or at least a dagger."

Alptraum waves his hand in an attempt to appear both mysterious and maybe powerful? Or maybe just goofy, who know? He's familiar with one dagger in particular, so he makes that one appear in her hand. A replica of the spirit dagger he carries almost all the time.

"Obsidian?" Koldesh asks as she examines the shiny black blade. Then she uses it to cut the leash!

"IT was made of hopes and dreams, and fun imaginings," Alptraum laments as he puts his hand to his chest, just over his scar. "No one appreciates me."

"Please prepare the tea," Koldesh requests, and starts testing the sounds she can make with her outfit.

Alptraum kneels beside the table and stares at the teapot as well as the steeping supplies. "Right, now ... how did he do it," he mutters as he lights the brazier, then sets the pot upon it. The steeping spoon is then dipped into the loose tea as he draws out the amount he remembers the kirin using, then sprinkles it into the water.

Koldesh begins her 'dance' on the other side of the table. Her movements are.. slow. And very measured. Holding the dagger in right hand, she seems to be going through a series of stances: defend, strike, feint in turn, with a different variation for each set. The slowness of it makes it a bit more sensual, and also demonstrates just how controlled she is. The leash remains wrapped around her left forearm for now.

Alptraum does have to wonder if she knows anything other than killing and perpetual anger. The tea is slowly stirred while he watches, with only an occasional glance at the pot to check the color.

After the slow-motion presentation, Koldesh transfers the dagger to her teeth, and unfurls the leash. Holding one end in each hand, she snaps it taught, and then goes into a much more energetic set of movements. The bells and bangles tinkle and chime as she moves the leash around herself, sometimes flicking it like a whip, catching it one hand and releasing it from the other in one fluid motion. Just about every part of her is involved, from her limbs to her neck to her wings. She even uses her toes to catch and redirect the line.

"Garrote-Dancing," Alptraum muses as he watches. He can see how any of these movements could be elegant, or made to kill. He lifts the steeping spoon and sniffs it, then hmms. Back it goes into the pot and he stirs a bit longer.

Koldesh moves from using the leash back to the dagger, this time practically juggling it.. and at some point while she spins she ties one end of the line to the handle, so that she can now whip the blade around at the end of the line.

"I'm not sure she can do anything that doesn't look horribly lethal," Alptraum thinks as he tests the tea again. This time he seems more satisfied, and so takes the pot off the brazier to cool a bit, and then uses the spoon to fish out most of the leaves so it doesn't over-brew.

Koldesh finishes for the moment, and says, "If you had chain, I could have shown you the flaming dagger dance. I can still move as I did when I was a young Yodh." She seems very pleased about that. She whips the leash back around behind her neck, catches the loose end, and makes a necklace with the dagger as the pendant.

"Do you know any dances that are less lethal?" Alptraum inquires as he actually pours tea having forgotten the whole joke about her serving him. "The real reason I called you to this place was so I can tell you I know who is behind the raids. You won't like it."

Koldesh folds her legs under herself as she sits opposite Alptraum. "All dances stem from combat," she claims, then narrows her eyes. "Who? Give me a name."

"I don't have a specific name. It's the former royal mages. They've allied with Amenlichli and the attacks have been to test strategies and work out ways specifically to deal with you," Alptraum explains as he slides a cup of tea over to her. "And the raiders are forced into it by basically either dying horribly by their hands, or by the Yodh's hand. And to be honest here, you and the other Yodh scare them less than the mages do."

"Nobody should be less afraid of us," Koldesh claims, and sips her tea with an outward semblance of calm. "And do these raiders know more about the identity of specific mages?"

"No. He's just known as the Doctor and always wears a mask. He's life-linked the raiders to others, do act as sort of batteries that keep already almost dead men still alive. The severing of that would be beyond painful, so they do not disobey. Well, except for now since I'm arranging an escape for all of them, and trapping the Doctor in their mountain base. What I'm more worried about, though, is what they're after in the city. It can't be a take-over move; they just want to distract and delay you, so that something can be recovered. That is the current theory, anyway; they could never stage a takeover, so it has to be a recovery."

"The Coalition confiscated the Royal Mages assets after Purge Night," Koldesh explains. "I don't know what they were are where they are being kept, but I would assume either the Coalition Tower or the Tower of Babel."

"The where isn't as important as the what," Alptraum says, "The royal mages are dangerous, not only to you, but even to creatures like me and your Goddess. Of Amenlichli can get a hold of those items, who knows what she could manage with them. This might be her way of getting back at me for stripping her of one of her greatest weapons."

"So, this is related to the General as well?" Koldesh asks, "Or something separate?"

"Unknown," Alptraum admits, "But if I had to guess, separate. The General is rather strong-willed and has chafed at the Lich's leash, which is why she hides in the forbidden zone."

"Hmm, I do not know if I can get an inventory without owing the Yodhbarada a favor," Koldesh notes, and sips her tea again. The bitterness of it must appeal to her. "The Yodhzakaro might know, as they despised the Royal Mages. But I would not know to what extend they would know, beyond rumor."

"If we prevent the recovery, I suppose the what becomes moot, but ... I can ask Zakaro myself. She might be willing to share. Or Barada, for that matter, but owing her something can get problematic as you just said," Alptraum muses before finally taking a sip from his own cup. He then taps the table with a claw and asks somewhat randomly, "Would you like to see a different venue, for a moment?"

"This one is, and the other is as well," Alptraum says and sets his cup down. His eyes close, and his hands rest in his lap. The world just past the table and the carpet they sit on swirls and shifts as it fades into shadow and darkness. The darkness peals back in time, but only slightly as just beyond their silken rug the world has become a land shrouded in clouds and with thunder and lightning rippling over head. They sit amongst ruins of an old manor house, merely fallen stone and rotted timbers now. His eyes open and he says, "This is where I grew up. Welcome to Sylvania. This specific spot is in my memory because ... I met Barada here a long time ago."

"Barada?" Koldesh asks, and looks around. "Not very friendly looking for flyers. I assumed you met Sunala first."

"This land isn't friendly to anyone. Everything here will try to kill you some way or another," Alptraum notes and gestures to the desolation. "I brought you here because ... this is what Amenlichli can do to a land, even when she loses. All of this, from the burned sky to the rotting ruins, are her work from the last great Necromancer War. I wanted you to really know what we are facing, and what possible outcomes are. This is a good outcome, as terrifying as that is. But, we have to try for better than this."

"I'd like to think we're a little better prepared this time," Koldesh notes, and doesn't seem too put out by the cold air, despite wearing a harem dancer's outfit. It'd be conservative dress for Babel. "She doesn't have the power she did back then, does she? And it's just her creature and whatever she has mustered up. We have the gods on our side."

"We are, but she is clever and I wouldn't put anything past her. My point in all this is: Don't be overconfident, and be prepared to react and adjust at a moments notice. I just want your eyes fully open in all of this. Not just because you're the High Priestess of Rephath, but that I also consider you a friend and trust you. I'd rather not see you devoured, crippled, or worse," Alptraum explains as he shrugs a little and ends with rubbing his neck and shoulder some. Next, he gestures at what she's wearing now, and adds, "Even this is reflective of that. I like to, ah, play with those I like. Play as in tease a little, joke. I can't be serious all the time; it's just not in me."

"It's a good thing I can dance then," Koldesh claims, and looks at Alptraum as if daring him to give a poor critique of her technique. "The Yodhrephath are stubborn, but not overconfident. That quality belongs.. mostly.. to Zakaro. And Inala. It didn't do them very well."

Alptraum instead tries to change the venue again, and this one is an eerie inverted tower once the world about them coalesces again. All along a spiral staircase leading upward are tombs with shadowed bodies concealed within. "It didn't do these people too well, either. Welcome to the Well of Souls. The most infamous prison in Sylvania. Here all the necromancers that were caught and entombed, sentenced to experience dying over and over, and yet never know the peace of oblivion. Well, until the Light of Nala was taken; it was what sustained them. I thought you would at least appreciate the punishment given to her last followers."

"Hmm," Koldesh ponders, looking up at the spiraling prison. "Nala. Sunala, Inala and Gorphat are her trinity. So I suppose this fits. Necromancers would not be welcome by Sunala, those that pervert life unwelcome by Inala.. and I suppose Gorphat would have enjoyed this just because she tends to like esoteric, drawn-out punishments. Would you consider this cruel, or justified, Alptraum?"

"Justified. Even this doesn't really equal the pain and suffering they caused," Alptraum says as he looks upward into the darkness. "They knew and reveled in the pain they caused others, and therefore deserved no less done to them. It helped to provide closure to their victims, and those that survived. A way to go beyond what happened by satisfying the internal need, admittedly, for revenge so that it doesn't fester like an untreated wound."

"Babel has changed a bit," Koldesh says. "Well.. a lot. Revenge is not as welcome as it once was. At least.. on a personal level. Institutional revenge is still strong, at least. It's just up to the Kindly Ones to deal with the real details of it now." She gestures to the sarcopho-cells. "We couldn't do this to living people now. How do you suppose those nobles are doing in Magog's Hell?"

"I know how they are doing; they're suffering endless parodies of their own crimes," Alptraum says and glances over. "I've been there and seen it. I could take you to see it, too."

There's a brief smirk on Koldesh's visage, but she says, "Well.. as curious as I may be, it probably wouldn't be appropriate for a mere mortal who is still weaning herself off of the need for revenge."

"Or might also be a bit afraid to go there," Alptraum teases with a slight grin of his own. "In truth, though, your sense of smell will thank you. As will your gag reflex."

"Is it as bad as the lore tells then?" Koldesh asks. "A pit of offal made of the corpses of the damned?"

"It's worse," Alptraum says as he momentarily feels ill at the memory. "Not a place to build a vacation home."

"Yodh don't get vacations anyway," Koldesh notes. "How'd you come by this prison? Prisons usually don't let in tourists."

"A haunted map, actually. And a very foul-mouthed Ghost attached to it," Alptraum explains. "Tulani and her friend were following it and I met them on a train."

Koldesh turns to stare at Alptraum then. "Met them?" she asks. "You weren't on a quest from Sunala?"

"Hard to say. Sometimes guided paths are subtle," Alptraum says and shrugs a little. "I was a rather angry person back then."

"Well.. I suppose your first homecoming wasn't very fun, being stuck with the Yodhsunala and all," Koldesh says. "Granted, the Yodh are not a festive bunch in general. I think even the Yodhinala can be unhappy with their lot."

"It was some of that, and also being an outcast more than once, betrayed by those I thought were friends, and so on," Alptraum says and waves his hand. "It was finding this place and where things led from there that lead me back to Babel, and helped me come to terms with many things."

"So, has it become more to your liking then?" Koldesh asks, and actually.. cocks her hip in an attempt at looking sexy, possibly.

"Has which become more to my liking?" Alptraum counters, ears splaying a little in confusion. "Babel? Well, it's better, but it has a habit of drawing out weird perversions and lusts in me."

"Well, are they weird and perverse for Babel?" Koldesh asks. "Did you have no such desires back in Sylvania?"

"Not so much for Babel, no. Sylvania is mostly about survival so there is no time to think about it," Alptraum admits.

"Babel was also about survival for.. I would say all but those on the top, but they fought for survival as well," Koldesh notes. "So I will say that some simply had better claws and thicker hides. But it doesn't sound like the Sylvanians preyed on each other, did they?"

"Not like Babel does, no. There were some nobles that would prey on others, but mostly it was groups just trying to survive in a very scarred land. Sylvania monsters were those of the past and the dead. And people like me; I was feared by many too. All but my troupe, really."

"You were seen as a monster?" Koldesh asks, looking slightly amused. "What would they have made of a Yodhrephath or Yodhblakat then?"

"It was ... there was always something off about me. Remember, the land was ravaged by Necromancers, and many sensitive to the supernatural because of it. My presence made them uncomfortable. How do I explain this ... me just being near them made hackles raise on instinct for what they felt," Alptraum explains. "I echoed memories of the nightmares that were because my presence was a counter-force that changed things." He taps his head as he thinks a moment. "It's like how many shy away from you. Even if they didn't know what you were, you exude a feeling of danger in both manner and appearance. Though I don't often physically seem like that, I felt like that to them. And the worry of when the monster would burst from my skin was a real fear of many."

"Ah, the monster was in their instincts," Koldesh suggests. "You cast a larger shadow, I suppose. Or a deeper one. A whipped grok becomes timid and wary, even of one offering succor. Perhaps moreso of one offering succor."

"The less threatening you appear, the more suspicious you appear," Alptraum says and nods. "So, something like that. You don't find me scary at all, I don't think."

"I'm uncertain if I can feel proper fear anymore," Koldesh admits. "It is often the case that those who fear the most seek to conquer it not by overcoming it, but by inspiring fear in others. Those that fear death seek to control it by killing others. I know Death's address, but I do not know if the Yodhrephath are feared without reason. I will die. I will likely fall in battle. This is what a Yodhrephath is raised to accept, so that we do not let the fear of it cause us to hesitate, or slip.. and thus ensure it comes to pass prematurely."

"You can feel fear, you just don't realize it. Failing, yourself or Rephath Herself. Being unable to fulfill your role and thus other bad things come to be," Alptraum explains and looks over. "Letting down your other Yodh. Failing Babel and letting it fall. You may not directly fear for yourself, but it is the others that help drive you to never falter. Fear can cripple or drive. It's just in how you learn to react to it. I think you learned the latter." He shrugs a little and grins, "But, I could also be completely wrong; I'm used to reading street and common folk, and know what drives them."

"Whereas we Yodh are all mad in rather specific ways," Koldesh claims with a grin. "We are priestesses of Goddesses that do not seek worship, only respect, fear and devotion. Sunala has no need of worship, for instance. Gorphat and Inala likewise. They represent the forces of mortality, after all. The rest of us are things that people seek for selfish reasons. Revenge, power, secrets.. well madness probably isn't sought, so I'll go with violence for Blakat."

"And then I come along and throw a wrench in all of it," Alptraum says as he counter-grins. "I'm guessing you haven't had many you could talk freely with about anything. Or even more, willing to play jokes on you and dress you like a sexy strumpet."

"Oh, you might be surprised at what some of us would get up to at the old Summits," Koldesh says. "They were.. well, orgies to be blunt. The Sabaoth would have the High Priestesses of each Goddess come to the palace, along with their retainers, to consummate his position as religious leader of Babel. I was a retainer for several of those, when I was younger. The first year, I would glower at the others.. but that gets boring. The pranks started when Rizalka showed up. Then the drinking contests.. The most prudish, of course, was Yodhinala Serzali."

"I do not know her, I don't think," Alptraum admits, frowning. "Hard to imagine a Yodhinala being prudish, though."

"They are quite prudish, you know," Koldesh says, and then changes her pose, to be more haughty, and tilts her nose up. "Pleasure is serious, and not to be simply had at random. There are rules and procedures. Just because your Goddesses are beneath Inala, do not think you can pull me into your drunken debauchery."

"She stopped coming after Yodhsunala Hathyr whispered something to her," Koldesh adds. "Claimed she couldn't take a joke."

"Okay, I admit that person would be a huge target to prank," Alptraum admits. "Truth be told, I know I tend to tweak Yodhinala Mave whenever she gets all haughty. She's lucky to even be alive, she tried to enslave me ... in here specifically. She failed rather miserably and ran circles around one of the coffins so that I couldn't get to her."

"Probably something about orgasms being the means to summon the Barsunala or something," Koldesh says, and winks at Alptraum. "You are The Little Death. So perhaps those lustful perversions are in keeping with your nature."

Alptraum snorts a laugh at that. "Personally, I think all of you delight in poking me into perversions," he counters.

"Well.. you'll have to tell me which perversion of poked you into so I can tell you if I took delight in it," Koldesh says. "It has to do with Rizalka though, I'm betting."

"Just you two ganging up on me and having your way with me in the bath was enough," Alptraum says and crosses his arms. "Though, dagh you two have some muscle control."

"That is perverse?" Koldesh asks, looking surprised. "Or is because we are sisters? Or that Rizalka was pregnant?"

"Well, you both being sisters and the things you did to each other in front of me was a bit, er," Alptraum admits and folds his ears back. "But enough about that! I have one more place to show you, that is probably closer to your heart. You may have been there already, though."

"I've been to many places," Koldesh claims. "Not sure any were close to my heart, other than my stomach. But this place is a bit dreary."

"The other is no happier," Alptraum admits and closes his eyes. All falls into shadow about them, and for a bit longer as he has to search for the rather unique place ... and one she should know as the shadows roll back. Rephath's Echo, the fragment of Babel floating in frozen time, unchanged since it was torn from Babel's heart.

There's a sharp intake of breath from Koldesh. "This is sacred ground," she says quietly.

"I know. I have spoken with Rephath Herself here a couple times," Alptraum says as he looks across the ruins. "I thought it might be appropriate for you to stand here once, yourself. And help all of us remember where we have been, and do not want to be again."

"We were so angry, so thirsty for revenge," Koldesh says. "I remember the Wild Hunt. And how.. insulted.. I felt at the inclusion of foreigners as champions of the Sisters. It was only the Avenger's intervention that made it bearable."

"Manipulated, like we all were," Koldesh says. "But I stood by when Rephath still tried for revenge.. any revenge.. against those who wronged Babel."

Alptraum nods at this too. "I can't claim to feel the same as you; I didn't grow up here. But, I did feel all their deaths when it happened, and heard their screams and then the cold silence in my dreams. This place still angers me, not because it was done /to/ us, but for all the lives cut short, and all the waste of it. And partially, because a segment of the war itself was my fault. Well, to clarify, my /existence/ was part of the cause. The Sabbaoth wanted /me/ to get an immortal body, finally. And I was kept/protected from him. It drove him further insane, and enough to start the war, eventually. Do you wish revenge on me for that?"

"The war was started by a slave," Koldesh claims. "And ended by a postal worker. War sometimes has stupid origins, but most involve men with very inflated egos. You could have easily blamed it on the blind healer who cured the Sabaoth of the 'illness' caused by Thath trying to slowly poison him."

"Could, but I accept my fault in this. It is part of the many reasons I am trying to help Babel. To make amends for pain I caused, direct or indirect," Alptraum says. "And there was also a time I would have burned Rephidim to the ground for this, all of them. Then I realized the irony in it, in that I would inflict the same horrors on them, and most of them innocent too. That's not justice at all, and it makes us no better than those that did this. I want Babel to rise above this, and end the cycles of horror. A real future, not the same past over and over."

"Still.. if Thath had embraced Rephath and gone for a swift revenge.." Koldesh says, and then shakes her head. "It is folly to look back and say 'if only'.. especially in this place. The Boomer ended up not being about the war at all. Not revenge for Elamoore, or for the Plaguebringer attack. Just more people wanting revenge being manipulated into doing what someone else wanted. That's when I really grasped that seeking revenge leaves you vulnerable."

"True. It leaves you vulnerable and blind," Alptraum agrees, and looks about. "I wasn't sure if Rephath herself would be here, or if she ever brought you here. But it was a place that changed me when I first saw it. And if anyone is worthy of standing in this place, it would be you more than me. To say your goodbyes to what was, and to ready for what will be."

"We guarded the Pit out of a sense of.. I'm not sure what," Koldesh says. "Your arrival was fortuitous, Barsunala. I wasn't sure what would become of the Yodhrephath after seeing our Goddess try for revenge by manipulating a mentally-deficient child. Thank you for giving us something to do that wasn't just guarding an empty grave."

"The Pit is a hard place for me too, it's important for ... it's not quite an empty grave. but I'm not sure what it is," Alptraum admits. "And you're welcome. Thank you for putting up with my stupid jokes and occasionally irreverent acts ... without sticking a spear through my head."

"Since you control this.. place.. what would happen if somebody tried that?" Koldesh has to wonder. "Or if you stuck a spear through my head?"

"You would probably wake up with a really bad headache," Alptraum admits. "As for what would happen to me, I would probably have after-effects from any pain too, but I do not think it would be lethal."

"So you couldn't assassinate someone like this, although I suppose you could drive someone insane," Koldesh speculates.

"Oh likely. Except a Yodhblakat; they're already insane," Alptraum points out. "Part of why I like Rizalka, honestly."

"What about being crazy makes her likeable?" Koldesh asks with a serious expression.

"I don't feel like I have to be formal with her. Also, I've gone on a treasure hunt with Blakat before; it's nice to not have to put on airs with people for them to at least treat you like another person," Alptraum notes.

"A treasure hunt?" Koldesh asks. "Blakat took you on a treasure hunt? Blakat?"

"Yes. We had to deal with pirates, and the treasure was candy," Alptraum explains. "What? Is this unusual?"

"The Kindly Ones are not exactly the Playful Ones," Koldesh points out. "What other Sisters have you spent time with like this?"

"Well, I ... spanked Rephath, and she liked it," Alptraum admits a bit warily. "I've done things with Barada, Zakaro a little, Gorphat ... Inala. Sunala I have had a tea party with..."

"What is a tea party?" Koldesh demands. "Some sort of funeral rite? Barada? What.. what happened when you met her in Sylvania, anyway? Why were you in a ruined building?"

"Barada had me tie her to a table and tickle her while she was in a Princess disguise," Alptraum admits. "And I took her to a carnival. As for a tea party, it's a gathering where you drink tea and talk. Tea is just a nice drink with many different flavors."

"Tea is bitter and reminds you of the harshness of life," Koldesh says uncertainly. "A carnival? In Sylvania? And she wanted you to torture her?"

"Well, she wanted me to do fun things with her. Torture in a playful sense," Alptraum tries to explain. "I suppose I do have a different relationship with the Sisters."

"Playful torture," Koldesh mutters. "The Gods are indeed very different from us."

"The only one of the Goddesses I have not been, ah, intimate with is Sunala ... because that would be disturbing and wrong on many levels," Alptraum admits.

"What do you mean, 'how is that possible'? Rephath is a woman," Alptraum remarks, looking confused. "... who likes to be spanked."

"Because.. she's.. Rephath.." Koldesh flaps. "She doesn't have a soft side! She's full of venom and vinegar and.. she's a sour-pus!"

"I didn't say she was soft. In fact I'm pretty sure I was bruised after my time with her. Think of it as intense wrestling," Alptraum offers.

"Hmm, I can accept wrestling and.. interrogation," Koldesh says, crossing her arms against her chest.

"If the answers and gasps and moans, I suppose," Alptraum mutters under his breath. "Does it bother you I am close to all of them?"

"It is more of a shock that they behave.. like normal women, for the most part," Koldesh admits. "I had not imagined them having such depth."

"Well, Gorphat doesn't quite behave like a normal woman. Plus she oozes, a lot. And yet oddly, still enjoyable to be with," Alptraum says.

"Well, they are Goddesses," Koldesh offers. "Perhaps they are more like we retainers were at the summits; aloof and separate to those not their peers."

"A fair sort of interpretation," Alptraum agrees and doesn't push it. "Well, I've occupied enough of your valuable time with my spiritual yanking and playing dress-up. I should probably send you home. Just ... be prepared, you may be able to capture one of the former Royal mages soon, and there will be a ship of escaping prisoners and forced raiders fleeing to Babel soon."

Koldesh grins. "You bring me such nice gifts, Alptraum," she says, and gives him a kiss on the forehead.

"Please don't kill the escapees, they'll be given trials and evaluations. Plus, I may be on board in disguise and I don't have a desire to be stabbed," Alptraum quips, then licks her nose since she's so close. He grins, and before she can take her revenge for that nose lick, he pokes her with a claw and 'pops' her like a bubble to send her back to herself! If she remembers any of this, hopefully the 'no stabbie the escapees' is what she remembers.

And so Alptraum is left alone in the floating rubble, until he decides to change things.