While the unconscious Mr. Velvet was being checked by Life Mages (still within the spirit-warding circle though), a rather tired looking Cyprian peered at the spectral horrib that Alptraum had captured in a former fruit-preserves jar. "Any idea what it is?" the Mind Mage asks the Barsunala.
Alptraum gets closer and peers at it, and also places his hand on the glass, to try and sense whatever he can about it. "Well, I know it paralyzed him and was probably trying to kill him," he admits, "And the form is particularly Babelite, and tied to the old punishments ... but let me see..."
The spectral critter stabs at the glass where Alptraum places his hand.. but all he can really tell at the moment is that it doesn't feel like a natural spirit - so it isn't a horrib ghost.
"It's a creation; not natural. I'm surprised it has lasted this long, truth be told," Alptraum admits, "Whomever created this was very skilled. But beyond that, I can't say anything useful. I'm sorry."
"Rostre will need to examine it then," Cyprian notes, then looks Alptraum in the eyes. "Would you mind bringing it to her?"
"I don't mind, but why not you?" Alptraum inquires. "I was going to ask if you wanted to get a drink and relax after this."
"A drink would be welcome, I think, for I don't foresee opportunities for relaxation after these recent revelations," Cyprian admits. "As for Rostre.. Naga aren't supposed to be able to cackle."
"Well, perhaps after I drop this off, and if there is time. I know you are rather busy," Alptraum says and smiles slightly, "But us legendary folk should at least try to socialize, hmm?"
"Few wish to socialize with Mind Mages, in my experience," Cyprian notes. "It ruins the dark and mysterious mystique. Or is it dark and ominous?"
"And who are you talking to, again?" Alptraum points out, then beeps Cyprian's nose. "I'll go deal see Rostre," he then adds and collects the jar.
"Try not to frighten her apprentice," Cyprian asks. "She's already a bit jumpy."
"Who is her apprentice? And what species?" Alptraum asks.
"Acolyte Alcmenai, another Naga," Cyprian explains. "A viper sort, tends to bite when she's startled. All the way from the Empire too, so still working on her Common skills."
"I'll be on good behavior," Alptraum says, "I can't promise Rostre will be, though." He salutes, then heads to leave. At least he does remember where the weird Naga is.
At least the captive spirit makes for a passable lamp as Alptraum descends into the bowels of the tower (well, relative bowels - it's still well about ground level) to where Rostre and her often malodorous workspace reside. There are banging noises coming from behind the door when he arrives at it.
Alptraum knocks on the door! "Death comes a rap-rapping," e calls through it. "I hear there are snakes within this chamber..."
The banging stops, and the door opens just a crack. A red eye peers out, surrounded by red scales so that it's difficult to differentiate it from the rest of the face. "Deaththh rattlessss," the eye claims, the slit lens looking Alptraum up and down, but settling on the jar.
"Not in Babel," Alptraum points out, grinning toothily. "You must be Alcmeni. I hope Rostre isn't teaching you any bad habits or perversions. That's my job, after all. Rostre knows me. I'm Alptraum, the Barsunala. I have a spirit creation for her to examine."
There's another bang and the sound of glass breaking, followed by very hiss-heavy swearing from somewhere deeper in the suite, but red-eye doesn't blink. "I warn her," Alcmeni hisses, and closes the door. There are more loud noises.
"Warn?" Alptraum wonders out loud, "I've slept with her ... why does she need warning?"
The door flies open quickly, and Rostre grabs Alptraum's arm and tries to pull him inside. "Quick, quick!" she urges.
"Wah!" goes Alptraum as he comes in quickly! "What, what?"
The door slams behind him, and an apron-clad Rostre thrusts a broom at him, "Take thisss!" she urges, since he appears to have free hand. Every lamp and candle in the lab is lit, and Alcmeni (a slender red viper in a blue scarf) is holding a coolect net.. shakily.
Alptraum takes the broom. "Okay, so what escaped?" Alptraum has to ask. "Just what did you do you weren't supposed to do?"
Clutching her own broom, Rostre pokes the handle into a cranny in the ceiling. The ceiling really isn't in very good condition. "Nothing essscaped.. we jussst need to catch it," the Mage claims. "And it isssn't an undead creation. There'sss jusss some leather involved.."
Alptraum's eyes narrow a little. "You're lucky I like you," he claims, and then starts to focus more on feeling for an undead; that sort of unpleasant itchy cold sensation they cause in him when near.
There's.. something.. in the ceiling. It doesn't feel quite like a zombie though, but it does seem to be an animating spirit of some kind. It might be somewhere over Alcmeni, who is watching Rostre's broom handle, net held ready (if shakily).
"There's an easier way to do this," Alptraum says and then takes a deep breath. "No panicking, now..." he adds, then concentrates ... and extrudes dozens of shadow-tendrils upward and into the ceiling to hunt down this errant spirit!
"Sssssss!" Alcmeni hisses, her head darting around to try and follow all of the black tentacles. One of them does make contact with something in the blocks above the Acolyte though.
"Aha!" Alptraum declares and tries to entwine that tendril about whatever it is that it just encountered! "C'mere, you...."
What Alptraum extracts.. looks like a toy snake. With little centipede legs and a small gem in the center of its 'head' instead of eyes or a mouth.
Alptraum tries to keep hold of it and slowly take it over toward the red serpent's net. "Careful," he says, "No panicking ... I almost have it..."
The girls eyes are very wide, and slithers backwards until she can hold the net out at its maximum reach.
Alptraum is very slow ... and tries to arch-reach in that thing into the held out net. "Well, I guess if nothing else, I can make a living as a tentacle monster," he jokes.
"We'll have to invessstigate that posssibility," Rostre says, swapping her broom for a strange-looking, gnarled stick, which she thrusts into the net. This makes the squirming of the snake-o-pede stop.
Alptraum quickly withdraws and re-absorbs his noodly appendages. "By breaking in your apprentice?" he jokes to Rostre
The apprentice in question drops the net handle as soon as the wiggling stops, and goes to coil up beneath a table. "She doesssn't undersstand humor yet, or teasssing," Rostre notes, and reaches down to retrieve the net and the thing inside, which she moves to a small magic circle in one of the rooms many corners. Then she seems to remember something, and twists her torso back towards Alptraum. "What'sss that in the jar?" she asks him.
"Some sort of killing spirit creation I extracted from a cervani," Alptraum explains and holds up the jar to the naga's eye-level. "It's not natural, that much I can tell, but how it was made .. I am uncertain of. I think the bottle itself is causing me issues with examining it much. Cyprian suggested you take a look instead. And how old is your apprentice?"
"I haven't cut her open to count her ringsss yet," Rostre replies, then turns and hisses something to Alcmeni, who hesitantly stutter-hisses something back. "Twelve," Rostre informs Alptraum, and flexes her hands in 'gimme' motions towards the jar.
"Oh, geez, child," Alptraum says as he hands over the jar. He looks over to the naga under the table. "You can come out, I don't bite or hurt anyone. She can vouch for me; I'm a nice Eeee."
"She doesssn't trusst me yet," Rostre claims, carrying the jar over to a workbench. In a whisper, she tells Alptraum, "She thinkss I'm insssane for sssome reasson." After setting the jar on the workbench, she puts a strange device over her head that lets her select from a variety of colored or crystal lenses to rotate in front of her eyes. "Hmm.. hmmm.. Cervani you ssay? Did it sssurvive extraction?"
"Of course. This is me you're talking to. I'm an expert at moving spirits," Alptraum points out. "He's sleeping upstairs now." And of course he's still trying to get the young naga to come out. "Come on, kids love me! I'm fun," he claims.
A red head does poke out from the shadow of the table and flick her tongue several times at Alptraum. "It helpsss if you talk ssslowly and do not make rapid gesturess," Rostre explains. "Or look like a Naga. So thisss isn't the Cervani's ssspirit. Good to know." She clicks a few more lenses in and out, and then rummages through a drawer until she finds a tuning fork, which she taps against the jar. The tuning fork glows silently.
"You know I can look like a naga," Alptraum comments over his shoulder to Rostre. "Are you just sneakily trying to get me to change?"
"Not at the moment," Rostre claims, pulling on some thick gloves. "If I wasss being sneaky, I wouldn't ssssugesst it, after all." She then turns to Alcmeni and hisses something. The girl uncoils and goes into the next room, where the sound of something heavy being moved soon emerges.
"So, what is this thing, exactly? Can you tell how it was made?" Alptraum asks as he walks over closer to Rostre and peers into the jar again. "And ... have you missed me?"
"Where have you been?" Rostre asks. "I think of you nightly. Although Alcmeni hasss been distracting. Thiss thing iss not behaving properly." She wiggles her gloved fingers, causing one of the glove-fingers to flap about since it has one more than she has actual fingers. Alcmeni returns, dragging an apparently heavy, if small, chest and holding a keyring in her jaws.
"I've been a prisoner for a while ... in disguise, to track down what has turned out to be some escaped former Royal Mages," Alptraum explains a bit vaguely. "One of them made this ... thing you see here."
"Aha!" Rostre exclaims, one glove finger flopping as she thrusts her hand ceiling-ward. This causes Alcmeni to drop the end of the chest she was holding. "Then my hunch isss likely correct!" When she notices that her apprentices is cowering a bit once more, she goes and takes the keyring from her so she can open the chest herself.
Alptraum goes over to the child and crouches down so he looks smaller. "She can be loud," he whispers to her, "But, she's harmless. So am I. So .. please try to relax? Neither of us want to hurt you."
"Book," the girl says carefully, and points to the chest.
Alptraum nods and moves slowly away from the girl and then up and over to the chest. "So ... she said book," Alptraum says helpfully. "I guess there is a book in the chest?"
Rostre is already lifting it out. The binding looks like some sort of stone, and it has several tight bands around it, each secured by its own lock. It looks heavy, but Rostre isn't exactly weak. She lugs it towards a table with some clear space on it.
It's got a dark aura too it, and the Naga is careful to only touch it with her gloves.
"That book looks dangerous. And not just to someone's toes," Alptraum notes as he follows the serpent over, and then sits on her back coil and looks around her.
"It isss dangerous," Rostre says as she sets it down. "Sssome bookss are meant to be judged by their coversss, eh?" She begins to undo the locks, and Alcmeni's curiousity lures her out to watch.
"What exactly is it? It feels wrong. Is this from Aztepa?" Alptraum asks.
"Itss origin isss uncertain," Rostre says, and undoes the final lock. "Do not look too long upon a page, and ignore any voicesss if you hear them. Above all, do not bleed on anything." She flicks down several of her lenses, then seems to pause she takes the edge of the stone cover between the fingers of the heavy gloves.
"Are you being serious?" Alptraum has to ask as he leans in to get a better look.
The cover is thrown back, and the first leathery page is exposed. It seems blank at first, and then script begins to appear, but not any that Alptraum recognizes. What does seem familiar is the material itself, and the feeling he gets from it: it reminds of the map, formerly known as Fyodr Dunkelstein for Sylvania, which led him and his compatriots to the Light of Nala. Rostre is chanting something even before the page finishes filling with symbols, and flips it to the next.
"I know this. It comes from the time of the necromancer wars. This absolutely has something to do with Aztepa. I've seen this before in Sylvania. The pages are made of skin, and spirits of the dead dwell within," Alptraum explains. "I followed something like it once to the Light of Nala."
"Necromancy," Rostre confirms, and flips the pages. "Can only go one page at a time.. no bookmarksss allowed. Not sssure if it isss from the Dark Isle, or was jusst created with itsss secretsss." She slows in her page turning, waiting for the pages to fill half-way before flipping. Sometimes there are diagrams, but Rostre doesn't linger long enough for them to finish appearing.. or else they aren't what she's looking for.
"I would say this book should be destroyed ... but its knowledge may be needed to fight dark arts," Alptraum admits. "Oh, does it say anything about shadow dragons, by chance?"
"It might," Rostre admits. "Not sssomething for casual reading, though. Bessst to know exactly what you are looking for." She pauses on the next page long enough for something that looks like a Himaatian Scarab on a pendant to be mostly drawn before she flips. Next is something like a Naga wrapped around a staff, but she doesn't linger on that one either. Finally, a horrib! It seems to be clutching a disk in its legs, it's pincer-claws clasped around a sphere, and the tail forming a handle. "Here.. Alcmeni, look away!" Rostre snaps. "You may be immune, Barsunala, but if you feel odd you mussst look away." The page is still filling in, the odd symbols seeming to squirm a bit the longer one looks at them.
"Fine so far. The symbols seem to squirm, but I don't feel anything wrong with me, yet," Alptraum claims as he continues to look, and try to read it ... or at least make sense of it.
The page fills up, and the symbols keep changing, until they seem to form the familiar Babelite pictograms, but that's also when Alptraum starts to feel an itch behind his eyes.
Alptraum looks up for a moment, to see if the sensation passes. If it does, he'll look back.
Looking away helps, but that's when he starts hearing things. And for an Eeee, that can be akin to seeing things as well. It certainly isn't language that he hears, creating odd sonar-scapes. It's like listening to a machine with an impression of turning gears.. just not mechanical.
"Okay, hearing machine-like sounds now," Alptraum admits, and keeps looking upward.
There's a hazy sound-image, as if hearing it underwater. A giant figure.. that seems familiar.. and a horrib buzzing about it. The figure grabs it and seems to whisper to it, causing it to go stiff. Something disk shaped but very sound-reflective is placed into its grasp.. and the figure seem to pluck out one of her(?) own eyes and places it into the grip of the horrib.. and then it all goes away as Rostre slams the book closed. "Back," she croaks at Alptraum, her voice sounding very odd.
"Did you just see someone pluck out their own eye and give to to the horrib?" Alptraum has to ask as he starts walking backwards, figuring that was her command, and not that she was somehow back.
That's when Alptraum feels a bit damp along the back of his jaw. Rostre is swerving a bit, the odd lens-harness being pulled off with one hand as the other covers her face. There's blood running down her cheeks.
Alptraum reaches up and feels at the dampness. "Am I bleeding?" he asks.
He can even smell it now. His ears are bleeding. "Ssside effect," Rostre says. "Lenssses only ssso good. Book wantss blood for knowledge.."
"Delightful," Alptraum grumbles and pushes out the shadow inside his ears to try and heal the bleeding ... and he hopes his hearing is unaffected! "I can heal your eyes if you give me a bit ... trying to fix my ears. Ugh."
As calm as he may sound ... inside he's near-panic! But, he can't freak out in front of the child; it would put her at risk.
It seems to take extra effort to restore his hearing to normal - but that could be due to his stressful state. Rostre still has her eyes covered as she explains, "It'sss an ancient magical artifact, Mirror of Gorphat. That thing isss still in jar, because it's a ssspirit curse, not a mere conjured spirit."
"The Mirror of Gorphat? I've never heard of this," Alptraum admits, and is rather surprised given an altar-ego's closeness to said Goddess. As he gets his heartrate down, he moves closer to Rostre. "Let me see your eyes, I'll see what I can do for them," she says, softly.
Moving her hands, Rostre's eyes are as red as those of her apprentice, with blood oozing out from around them.
"Well, it could have been worse," Alptraum admits as he winces a little. "Okay, so .. this might feel weird," Alptraum admits, reaches up, and lances his hands over her eyes. Then ie's a slow ooze-out of the shadow to envelop them, soothe them, and encourage them to repair on their own.
"I can't feel anything," Rostre says. "But I'm sseeing some messsed up sstuff.."
"Well, just try to relax ... this may take me a bit," Alptraum admits. He's not as familiar with naga anatomy as Eeee, so is taking his time trying to make things more ... normal.
It's mainly cleaning up the burst blood vessels and flushing out the blood.. which still makes her eyes bleed, just differently now. But they do begin to clear back to their.. black reptilian sclera and golden irises. "I can ssseee you," Rostre claims. "No more giant maggotsss with boobss."
"Why in the world would you be seeing Yodhmagog?" Alptraum has to ask, looking confused as he draws his hands back.
"Book messsses with your sssenses, triess to drive you mad," Rostre mutters. "Yodhmagog. Not familiar with them. Related to Gorphat?"
"One of Gorphat's first High Priestesses," Alptraum explains vaguely. "It's not that important."
"Anyway ... so the mages have this mirror of which you speak? I suppose I could go to the Temple of Gorphat to inquire about it ... unless you can tell me more about it and eliminate the need?" Alptraum inquires, curious.
"Well, that wasss one of the artifactsss that the Royal Mages probably had then," Rostre says. "Are you going to lick the blood?"
"I wasn't planning to," Alptraum admits. "Why?"
"You don't like my blood?" Rostre asks.
"I just don't make it a habit of licking people," Alptraum points out. "People look at you funny."
"People look at me funny all of the time," Rostre notes. "I ssshould get a rag then.."
Alptraum sighs, "No, just ..." He shrugs a little, then gives in and just starts licking the blood off Rostre.
Naga don't giggle, thankfully, but Rostre does lick Alptruam's ear. Not the blood, but the ear membrane. Flick-flick-flick.
Alptraum's ear twitches, but he doesn't act like he notices other than that. So, snake-licking he goes, and goes, and ... goes. Her apprentice probably thinks all of this is demented.
"This isss a form of mutual grooming," Rostre explains to Alcmeni, who has been staring since the book was closed. "We can't let that thing out of the jar. I'm sssure there isss a way to dissspell it though. It will take some resssearch. It ssseems the curse requiresss someone to look into the mirror, and sssome other component."
"I could probaly devour that horrib spirit," Alptraum admits, pausing a moment to talk, "But ... it might be a bit weird." Then it's right back to lotsa licking!
"I'd rather hold off on that," Rostre notes. "There isss precedent for being able to trace the location of the artifact back through their ssspirit constructss."
"I can hold off. Just ask Cyprian to contact me if you wish me to later," Alptraum offers and then gets the last of the blood off.
"The victim isss still in the Tower?" Rostre asks.
"Yes, up higher, and resting," Alptraum agrees.
"I wissh to examine him," Rostre says. "How cooperative isss he?"
"Asleep right now, but he has been very cooperative," Alptraum explains.
"Exssssselent," Rostre says, and then remembers her gloves and starts pulling them off.
"Are you going to examine him now?" Alptraum asks.
"Oh no, not until he isss awake," Rostre says. "I merely need to check him for possesssssion or other effects. I rarely get to do ssso! Have you touched him?"
"Of course I have! I extracted that thing from him, remember?" Alptraum points out.
"Then he probably isn't possessssed," Rostre notes, looking thoughtful. "An artifact from the ssssame pantheon.. perhapsss that isss why you did not notice it, or immediately exorcisse it by touch.."
"Possibly. I suppose you should still examine him, at least," Alptraum concedes. "It would be good practical experience for yout apprentice, too."
"Lesss traumatic, hopefully," Rostre says, the notices Alcmeni just coiling there, not doing anything. So she points to the odd snake-thing in the corner, and hisses something. This causes the girl to be begin gathering various bottles and candles. Rostre puts her gloves back on. "Bessst I reseal the tome of the dead."
"Agreed," Alptraum says, then goes to see if he can help the assistant. "Alcmeni," he says a bit gently, "Need any help gathering things? I'm not so scary anymore, right?"
The girl rattles the bottles she has clutched in her arms, and turns to look at Alptraum. She.. isn't the sort of Naga that blinks apparently. "Not like book," the girl admits. "What iss came out of you?"
"Sort of living shadow. Kind of shadow magic and life magic combined," Alptraum tries to explain. "One of my weirder abilities, but useful. It allows me to change shape, too. I can become one of your kind, even."
Alcmeni makes an odd sort of clicking noise with her mouth. "Change.. shape? You ssspirit?"
"No ... more of a demi-god, actually. I can change others' shapes too. I made Rostre there into a Fnerf for a while. She drove everyone nuts," Alptraum notes and grins.
It isn't clear how much Alcmeni is understanding, but she sets her supplies down near the circle with the snake-thing in it, and points to Rostre (who is locking up the book) and the cups her hands under her chest to indicated (Rostre's) breasts.
"She wanted them, so I made them for her, yes," Alptraum admits.
This earns a few tongue flicks and an unblinking stare. Alcmeni has little pits above her lips, but they don't flex like her nostrils do at least. "Why?" she finally asks.
"Why did she want them? She's been in Babel a long time and has picked up some of our oddities, and ways of enjoying each other, I suppose," Alptraum says and shrugs a little.
"Why give her wish?" the viper clarifies. "Grant wishes?"
"Because she is my friend?" Alptraum explains, "And it was a generally harmless request."
"Iss she crazy?" the girl asks, even though Rostre can hear her. Maybe she's used to hearing that question, or is too focused on whatever spell has to be applied to the locks that hold the book closed.
"Mmmm, not really. At least not in any way that is dangerous to others. She's a bit odd, yes, but also a nice person once you get to know her and fun to be around," Alptraum says after some thought.
"Fun," Alcmeni repeats, as if naming some uncomfortable skin condition. "Mage musst be studious. Ressspectable."
"That doesn't mean you can't have fun," Alptraum points out. "The young always want to be all serious, when in time you'll learn that sometimes you should just have fun and not care what someone else things."
"I am young, I mussst behave and obey elderss," Alcmeni insists. Although Alptraum has no idea at what age vipers are considered to be adults.
"You should also have some fun. You are only young once," Alptraum notes and shrugs a little. "At least ... don't take everything too seriously."
"How seriousss is proper amount?" the girl then asks.. taking Alptraum seriously, probably.
"That is something you have to decide for yourself," Alptraum notes.
"I've tried to get her to come to the card game," Rostre notes, as she lugs the stone-clad tome back into the thistlebark chest.
"See? At least go to the card game," Alptraum agrees with Rostre.
"Are you coming too then, Alptraum?" Rostre asks after moving the chest back into the other room.
"I didn't know there was a card game! Also, I'm not a mage, remember," Alptraum points out.
"Magic isn't allowed at card gamesss, otherwise Cyprian would alwaysss win, or Cale.. he's an Illusionissst," Rostre notes.
"Cyprian joins in too?" Alptraum has to ask. "I can sense emotions, though ... so I might have an unfair advantage."
"Even Cyprian's emotions?" Rostre asks. "Gusty's tail betrayssss him, but.. he can smell how the resst of us feel! Nothing isss ever truly balanced."
"Cyprian isn't that hard to read," Alptraum claims and shrugs a little. "When is this game?"
"After dinner," Rostre says, taking her gloves off again. "A few.. what time is it?" she then asks Alcmeni, who goes to clear away some things on a table. There's an sundial on it.. despite the room having no windows. It still casts a shadow though. "Half-passst slither-shinss," the girl reads.
"Soon enough," Rostre translates for Alptraum.
"Er, sure, then. I'll go. I promise to behave, I'll only flirt a little at the game," Alptraum claims, all smiles.