After cleaning up (and out) Dar returns to Graytown to await his pickup in front of Inala's Paradise. There are the usual crowds out front, although only some seem to be waiting to get in, and the rest are just treating the area as a general gathering spot. There are even food vending carts, from which emanate the burrs and chirrs and chirps of a variety of live insects. And it's a given that one of them has a fryer going.

"How are things in the Tower?" Tulani asks, since she's sitting on the bench next to the alleged Sylvanian courier.

"Secretive," Dar remarks in Sylvanian and shrugs a little, then works one of his shoulders that feels a bit stiff. "The place is a maze. But, the people there seem to be in generally good spirits."

"You were in there for a long time," Tulani notes. "But it's such a bureaucracy! Lilith hadn't really prepared me for that. Must have been boring."

"A little, but I got to relax with some of the savanites too, which helped make it less boring," Dar notes, "And I have a lead on what they may be looking for, which I will see later tonight, er, day ... whatever time it is."

"It should be day.. that is, sun-is-out sort of day," Tulani says. "I'm still getting used to how Babelites define it. I assume you'll be coming back here afterwards? Any special instructions for me?"

"Become a prostitute and make us some money?" Dar jokes and holds up his hands quickly in case she'll try to hit him. "Do you think you can find out if there is any movement outside of Babel; an attack in preparation?"

"I can meet up with Cricket and see if there's news," Tulani says. "The Yodhrephath are supposedly working with the Yodhbarada on this, and I want to know if they finally got into that chest."

"The only chest in Babel better secured than a Yodhrepath bra," Dar jokes. "Seriously, though, I do too. Though part of me expects it to be empty, and thus just a misdirect."

"That would still be useful to know," Tulani says. "They're supposedly taking lots of precautions. I know there are searches of old pirate bases being done, since any attacking force has to come from somewhere."

A palanquin arrives, but it lets off some passengers and then is flown off again. It had a fancy livery on it, so unlikely to be the 'taxi' that is coming for Dar.

"Unless they're zombies, they can't really use the dead city ... so yes, bases are the other real possibility," Dar agrees. "Or caves. Don't ignore any basic caves and caverns too."

"There are caverns under the city too," Tulani notes with a tone of dread. "Maybe should be checking the old Yodhdiphath nests as well." She also looks to line of sky cabs. "We should wander past the taxis and see if anyone tries to get your attention."

"All right," Dar agrees, and stands. When Tulani gets up too, he grabs her butt, then mutters with a grin, "Catbutt." He winks then heads off towards the taxi line! "And I agree on checking the old nests, too."

Tulani catches up and gropes right back. "I'll stick with you for now," she says, claiming, "We're both known to be from Sylvania, so it shouldn't be as suspicious as you just wandering around alone. Will keep people from flirting with you along the way as a bonus."

"Why is that a bonus? I like flirting," Dar comments and glances at Tulani. "Are you jealous?" he teases and grins.

The Sphynx links her arm with Dar. "No, but it isn't good to be distracted, and I can keep an eye out as well. Babelites can be pushy when it comes to holding attention you know."

"Again, I don't see the problem," Dar claims, though he doesn't pull his arm away. "I take it you don't like being hit on?"

"I was a sailor you know," Tulani points out. "I was hit on constantly. And most often by shorter men." The palanquins aren't exactly clustered together, and arrive and depart randomly as well. So Tulani seems to steer them towards the ones that have sat the longest.

"I hit on you and I'm taller," Dar points out, then leans over and licks her ear to make the point. "And I think you missed me."

"I worry when you go into dangerous places," Tulani admits, and flicks her licked ear. "I prefer taller men," she notes, and sort of tugs Dar towards one of the idling palanquins.

"Because we don't stuff our faces into your chest during fun times?" Dar asks as he's pulled along! "Or you just like big, strong guys..."

"I was also surrounded by big strong guys on the airships, you know," Tulani points out. "Vartans, a few Rhians. The Rhians never had high positions, except for a captain once. I spent most of my time in the air though as a scout."

"And not the tail, gotcha," Dar teases and nudges Tulani, "Relax." His attention then has to shift to the palanquins, looking for any that might be looking for, well, him.

The palanquin they're approaching has its bearers appear to be on break, but they aren't really doing much, in that they haven't left the palanquin itself.

Dar waves politely to the cabbie, but otherwise makes no further move towards them for the moment.

Dar just shrugs and tugs Tulani to continue on. "Not that one, obviously," he notes to her.

"What color is the sky is Sylvanian sky," the man recites, clearly from memory since he doesn't get the intonation right for a question.

"You don't see the sky in Sylvania; it's just clouds," Dar remarks, "The color of the clouds gray; everything is very gray there."

Dar arches his brow at that. After a moment of rubbing the bridge of his nose, he repeats it, slowly, one word with several seconds between each one, and exaggerated pronunciation.

The cabbie follows along, but is clearly muttering one work over and over under his breath. "Ah, okay, gray sounds right. What's your name?" he then asks.

"I don't know what pranked means," the man says, and gestures to the other bearers. "You're the one we were waiting for."

"Probably the ones you're looking for," Tulani says. "Want me to follow? My eyes work fine in daylight."

"If you can do so without being suspicious or seen, please do. I want to be careful," Dar answers in Sylvanian. To the cabbie he then says, "All right, looks like you're who I was looking for too." He pats Tulani on the butt again, then heads to the palanquin.

Tulani waves and heads back into the crowd. The palanquin doesn't have doors, just a bit of netting that goes across the gap in the sides. "You're prepaid," the cabbie notes before the bearers all take up positions.

Dar climbs in and sits down. "I'm a bit heavy for an Eeee," he notes, "Just giving a fair warning."

"We're used to couples," the man says, and then all four of the bearers begin flapping. Passenger weight aside, the palanquin itself is mostly open space to cut down on weight. It does give a good view in all directions though. Once clear of the perpetual shadow of Graytown, it does appear to be dawn. Not bright enough yet to cause issues for the more nocturnal sorts though. Babel's skies are crisp and clear at least.

And Dar's ears are alert and tracking all the various city sounds. "Good, because I might weigh as much as a couple," he calls out and leans back, trying to look relaxed, yet staying alert.

They aren't flying towards the Coalition Tower, but that was part of the plan anyway. Instead they arrive atop a different tower, this one with a curved slice taken out of it from the Boomer. "This is the spot we were told to take you to," the cabbie says once they've landed.

"All right. That was short ... and pity I didn't have someone pretty on my arm to enjoy it, but ... thank you," Dar remarks as he gets up. Quickly, he undoes the 'door web' and steps out of the palanquin. He turns and bows. "Thank you for the trip," he says.

"Good luck," the cabbie says, and then the palanquin is flown off. Once it's out of sight, a voice from below says, "Ready for the next part?" Dar can sense someone down there.. a female Eeee.

"As long as it doesn't involve wearing a clown costume and hopping backwards, yes," Dar remarks.

"Escort, or escort?" Dar asks next, possibly to test their patience and emotional reaction.

"The verb, not the noun," the other notes, in an I've-heard-that-too-often tone. "We need to be at the pickup on time."

"You're not apparently employed for your sense of humor," Dar notes, then heads down the stairs.

After adjusting to the darkness, Dar sees a very thin and tall Eeee woman wearing a leather mask that just leaves her muzzle bare. "We've got to go down a few flights," she tells him, and gestures to the next set of stairs. This chamber has a wonderful view of the Pit, and the Coalition Tower on the far side of it.

"Why the mask?" Dar has to ask, then he pauses to look out over the pit for a moment. Then he shrugs a little and continues onto the next stairs.

"To hide my face," the woman replies. "Does it matter?" She heads down before Dar. There's plenty of light still, through the missing section of the building.

"I like to see the face of those I talk to," Dar notes. "Why do you need to hide your face?"

"Personal reasons," she claims, heading down the next flight. "We need to get down towards the intact portion of the tower."

"Would you take it off if I asked you to?" Dar inquires as he continues to follow along at her pace. He's also probing at her emotional aura to see how she reacts to the questions.

There's certainly a tinge of annoyance, but it's buried under focus on her surroundings. She's listening to Dar, but not giving him her full attention.

"Are you an assassin, former assassin, or trained to detect them?" Dar asks next, "You're paying more attention to the surroundings than the person being escorted."

"You're a courier, I expect you to be able to look out for yourself," the woman says. "Technically I'm a counter-assassin. I make sure people aren't where assassins are."

"Former Yodh?" Dar inquires next; nosy one, he is. "And I can look after myself; this is true." He pauses a moment to extend his senses to see if he can pick up anyone else nearby.

So far, it's only the two of them in the building, unless someone can actually mask their aura. "There are no former Yodh," the woman claims. She must not have met Bara. "I'm just well-trained. Three more levels to go."

"There are former Yodh," Dar remarks, "And there isn't anyone else around." Downward he continues to go!

"That's exactly what an assassin would want you to think," the escort claims. She does seem to relax once they get down to the first not-exposed-to-the-sky floor.

"It would take a special assassin to hide from me," Dar remarks and shrugs a little. "But I do appreciate your diligence. Can I at least ask your name?"

"You can call me Stilleto if you want," she replies. It seems a bit out of place for a counter-assassin. Maybe she's teasing him now? "Or Toothpick."

"Those are amateur, criminal weapons," the woman asserts. "Everyone thinks a stilleto has something to prove. Nobody suspects a toothpick though."

"Amateur, or criminal .. still effective," Dar notes. "No one expects a lot of things, though, but point made."

"I also like to chew on toothpicks," the woman notes as they head deeper into the building. "It's a common habit. I never let anyone do it around me. Poisoning toothpicks is sure to occur to an assassin eventually." Now they're heading away from the Pit-facing side.

"That's old-school. Plenty of more novel ways to poison someone," Dar remarks a but dryly as he follows after her.

"Eh, a proper assassin doesn't try to be novel," Toothpick claims. "Otherwise everyone will try to have themselves killed in more grandiose manner to one-up the person that was killed the week before." She doesn't seem to have a high regard for the level of society that would probably go for that.

"No, but having a large array to work from is helpful. For example, a contact-poison on a missive, so that the reader is poisoned just by opening the message and reading it. Or, just ask the Barsunala to off someone, Death DemiGod-lite so to speak," Dar remarks a little absently. "And .. I am probably the most annoying client you have had."

"Everyone annoys me," Toothpick claims. "And officials that would be targets for assassination don't open their own mail. They have people like me open it for them. We're here." Here is a small landing platform facing out into the city.

"Oh look, it is a scenic view of a decayed city of debauchery," Dar remarks. "Wanna have dinner sometime?"

"I have dinner every evening," Toothpick claims, and soon Dar detects the approach of another palanquin - this one borne by eight men.

"Dinner with me," Dar remarks, amused. "Also, eight people are approaching. Is this expected?"

"That's our ride," Toothpick notes, and looks aside at Dar. "Why would you want to have dinner with me? Do you like grating women, or just mistook me for a lanky boy?"

"I have a wonderful sense of humor," the woman claims, as the palanquin sets down on the landing. "I own a diverse collection of noise-bladders." She then inspects the inside of the plain black palanquin before ushering Dar inside. This close it's easy to detect a latent Shadow enchantment on the vehicle.

"Is it supposed to be enchanted with shadow magic?" Dar asks the woman before he steps into the palanquin.

"You're a mage?" Toothpick asks. "And yes, of course it is. It's the best way to avoid detection."

"I'm lots of things, it keeps me alive," Dar remarks a bit vaguely. "I only act the idiot so people don't think of me as dangerous." He flashes a very toothy smile to the woman, then slips inside.

"You're half-again the size of a soldier, how could you not look dangerous?" Toothpick asks, and knocks on the wall of the palanquin once they're settled. There aren't any windows. "We won't be traveling across the Pit of course."

"I'm also an Eeee, and compared to a Vartan, I'm not much," Dar points out and crosses his legs. "Life it like a card game; always keep a few extra cards in your sleeve."

"I never learned to play card games, but I have a healthy distrust of long sleeves," Toothpick notes as they lift off with a slight jostling. "Are they entertaining, or are they another challenge?"

"Why can't they be both? They're all about mis-direction and bluffing, and a little bit of luck," Dar comments, "And the most skilled at them make their own luck."

"I don't trust in luck," Toothpick claims. "I forget the name of the lesser god or goddess of luck. I think there must have been several. Do they have a god of luck in Sylvania?"

"Unless you're a courier charged with visiting foreign lands a world away?" Toothpick asks. Now that she's feeling secure, she isn't much easier to read, especially with most of her face hidden and her aura 'cool' and calm.

"A dream job, it gets me out of the doom and gloom," Dar comments, "And you've very good at controlling your feelings."

"No, I do not. You're guarded, even when safe," Dar remarks and shrugs a little. "Not a great way to live."

"But, I am alive," Toothpick claims. "And I keep others alive. I think that a relatively noble calling." She then taps the leather mask over her face. "So long as nobody knows my face. When I take of this mask, I'm someone else."

"Ah, so you do have another persona than this. Good to know," Dar remarks. "Everyone wears masks. Some wear many. Some are obvious, some are not. Such is life."

There's a single knock on the roof of the palanquin. "We should be nearing our destination soon," Toothpick interprets. "Magic is handy. Shadow to hide, Air to speed things along."

"It's a tool, and both good and bad. But, yes, when it's on our side, it's handy," Dar concedes. "And soon you will be free of me. I bet that will make you relax."

There aren't any handles for the doors on the inside, so it's a few moments before the door is opened from the outside.

"Well, it has been interesting. Thank you for the escort, even if it wasn't an escort," Dar remarks, grins, then gets up to leave the transport 'chamber'.

Prime Minister's Quarters
Rank has its privileges, and the Prime Minister of the Coalition has a very generous house atop the Tower, overlooking the rooftop plaza and gardens. It isn't a stately mansion or palace, in accordance with the Coalition's new vision of Babel as being less of a playground for the nobility and more a city of 'attainable wealth' and meritocracy. Still, it has several suites, a small ballroom and many amenities.

The palanquin is within the building, if just barely. Another attendant waits on Dar: Abel, of course. He gestures for the Eeee to follow him.

"You again? Didn't I just see you?" Dar asks the Savanite, then follows after him.

"Perhaps it was my twin brother," Abel signs back over his shoulder. "And it has been several hours. I am heartened that I left such an impression that it has skewed your sense of time."

"It's hard to forget someone who was bent over my back," Dar remarks a bit dryly.

The soon come to a room not unlike Dr. Twig's library. It even has a globe that is probably hiding brandy or other liquor in it. Thath is not sitting in an overstuffed chair, however, nor wearing a smoking jacket. He's standing at the hearth, back straight as a post and still wearing his work robes.

"You don't relax either," Dar comments, quietly. "But, at least not as badly as the escort doesn't.

"There is always work to do be done," Thath claims, and nods to Abel, who leaves and closes the doors behind him. "I trust you had no difficulties making your way here?"

"None whatsoever. It was quite dull; I had to amuse myself by examining the escort that brought me," Dar notes. "She's effective, but not very pleasant to travel with."

"Few professionals are pleasant to be around," Thath says. "I imagine people do not enjoy being around me either. But you're here to figure out what the former Royal Mages are after, not to enjoy my company."

"Who says I can't also want the latter?" Dar inquires as he approaches the hearth "Not everything has to be centered on 'work'. Life must have some good moments to make any of it worth it."

Thath is notably silent after that comment. He goes to the bookcase, and presses a hidden switch to let it swing out. "Let us adjourn to my study," he says.

"All right," Dar agrees and bobs his head. "Also ..." he adds, then closes his eyes and concentrates so that he reverts back to, well, Alptraum, which is a little smaller, and at least a little more 'color', in that he's two colors instead of just one. "This might also help," he notes.

"You can certainly relax your guard in here," Thath claims. "It is heavily warded." The study is rather bare. A desk, a lamp, and a good supply of ink and paper. There are also several heavy-looking locked chests that take up most of the floor space.

"You need a really fluffy couch and sofa to flop on to make it comfortable," Alptraum notes as he adjusts the slightly looser clothing he wears. "So, is the mysterious item in one of these chests?"

"They all contain mysterious items," Thath notes, but goes to one in the middle first. He ignores the lock and reaches behind it. There are some clicks, and then the whole chest is lifted up, revealing a thick bottom plate bolted down to the floor. There's a simple wooden box in the center of it, which Thath picks up after he puts the chest facade on top of another one.

"Nesting doll chests, put the important stuff in non-obvious places to trick unwary thieves. Nicely done," Alptraum comments; given shell games and mis-direction was his early life ... this is up his alley.

"This came from Lamu, I believe," Thath notes, and opens the box. There are some papers, which he sets on the desk, and then removes what looks like a sheathed dagger. But the material is.. bizarre. It might be a gemstone, since it has a purple translucency like amethyst, but the way it catches the light is wrong. There are 'veins' running through it like marble, but they also seem to slowly move, as if the material were actually a liquid. "It might be a dagger, but nobody can draw it from the sheath."

"I've never seen anything like that before," Alptraum notes and leans in to peer more at it. He also tries to sense it through aura ... then even holds his hand over it, but doesn't touch it. "Who have examined this thing before me?"

It may as well not exist at all for how it fails to react to his senses or proximity. But close up, he can see his distorted reflection in it, and it seems like the reflection of a different person or people all overlayed - but they're all also him. "It was examined by a very reliable Earth Mage. It isn't stone, or anything that reacts to magic. Found on the edge of a forbidden zone, it is most certainly an Exile artifact."

"To me, it doesn't seem to exist," Alptraum notes, brow furrowed. "May I touch it?"

"Hmmm ... doesn't mean it won't," Alptraum notes. But, nothing ventured, nothing gained. So, he reaches out with his right hand and takes a hold of the dagger grip carefully ... ready to yank his hand away if he must.

It takes a moment to be sure he's actually touching it. It's smooth like ice, until it suddenly isn't and he can get a good grip. It's got weight, certainly, but he can't really gauge how heavy it is. It seems more imaginary than real.

"I can't define what this is, or even how it feels," Alptraum admits, ears splayed out. "It's smooth one moment, then easy to grip the next. It does, and doesn't have weight, too. It's more a projection than real. I'll try to draw it now." He then waits for Thath to look okay with this, and only then he actually tries to draw it from its sheath.

As soon as Alptraum tries to free it, his right hand gets a jolt of pain. Since it's normally pretty numb, that is the first surprise. The second is that the pain came from inside the limb, not from where it holds onto the hilt. Less of a surprise is that the blade still refuses to come out of the sheath.

"Ow!" Alptraum squeaks and pulls his right hand away from the dagger, holding it only with his left now. He's shaking his hand a lot after that too. "It stabbed me, somehow."

"What?" Thath asks, showing some signs of alarm now, and reaches for Alptraum's right arm. "Where?"

"In my arm," Alptraum notes. "Let me try this again, if I switch grip..." And if Thath lets him, he'll swap the sheath to his right, and hold the hilt with his left to try and draw it.

After Thath is assured that nothing is gushing out of Alptraum, he steps back to let him try again.

"Well, lets see if this hurts," Alptraum says, grits his teeth, and then tries to draw it again!

"This is the only item that is clearly a weapon, if a useless one," Thath notes. "At least when it comes to mortals using it. I expected you would be able to draw it though."

"Unless there is some trick or technique in using it. This is something I should ask the ol' secretary I have about, I think. She may not know anything, though," Alptraum admits. "Can I try to summon her?"

"It should be safe inside this room," Thath says, "But keep her from touching the walls."

Alptraum taps on his right hand and says, "Wakey wakey. I've sold you to a sultan to be a new harem member!" Granted while he's saying this, he's more focusing inward and trying to ping Kaira that he needs her to come out into the 'real world' for a bit.

The dragoness (dressed a secretary, including her hair up in a bun and a pair of spectacles with a chain that loops around the back of her neck) soon appears. "What did you just do?" she asks, pushing her glasses up primly.

"Actually, I need to see if you know what this is," Alptraum admits and holds up the odd dagger for her to see. "But that's a dull way to call you out."

Kaira takes the dagger and examines it with a neutral expression, but soon purses her lips. "I know what it's made out of," she says, but doesn't sound happy about it. "But it doesn't make sense."

"Well, knowing what it is made out of would be a start. So, what is it?" Alptraum asks. "And oh, this is Thath. He's ... well, my biological father. He's almost a sultan."

"Really?" Kaira asks, looking between the two skeptically. "Anyway, this is timestone, which.. isn't either. It's.. do you know what spacetime is?"

"No, not really. All I know about it is that trying to draw it made my right hand hurt," Alptraum admits.

That gives Kaira a pause. "Interesting," she says, keeping any emotion from her voice. "This is made from.. uh.. space and time. Space-like time, compressed and geometrically altered to act like matter. It's very exotic, like your Sifran crystal. But it isn't used for things like this."

"What is it used for and why does this particularly bother you?" Alptraum asks and glances at Thath. "And you're hiding how it makes you feel that it hurt me. Why?"

"This is a weapon, and it's usually used for.. bigger things," Kaira says, and glances at Alptraum. "It shouldn't be here. And I suspect.." She then draws the dagger. The blade that is exposed is longer than should fit into the sheath, and it hurts to look at. It's like a pink metal, but the edges of it seem to burn and cast off odd rays of light, until she slides it back into the sheath it shouldn't fit into.

"It's what Vorgulremik was looking for," Kaira notes. "And I'm pretty sure that I made it."

"You, or your creator?" Alptraum tries to clarify. "Or is that dragon ego speaking? In any event, how did it get here? And I suppose it's all well and good, but we can't use it. I can't draw it without it trying to hurt me, and no one else can budge it."

"Well, most likely my creator," Kaira admits. "I'm not sure how. I mean, she couldn't have made it by herself. But it's a weapon used for destroying immortals. Or maybe gods too. Anything, really. Did you notice the reflections?"

"The various reflections of me, all different?" Alptraum notes. "Yes, I noticed that. Though, it worries me less than it causing me pain."

"Those are timeline reflections," Kaira notes. "That pain was probably Vorg's blood recognizing it. The blade is most likely made of anti-timestone. Which.. sort of erases things. Completely."

"How does someone even use this thing. It doesn't even budge of one of us tries to pull it free," Alptraum notes.

"You aren't keyed to it," Kaira guesses. "I mean, would you want just anyone to be able to use something like this? It must have gotten here the same way Vorg did, through a Forbidden Zone. I can see why he or a nasty goddess would want it. They couldn't use it, but if they have it can't be used against them. And I think you could use it with a little help."

"Without it causing me a lot of pain?" Alptraum has to ask, and arches his brow a little at that. He also glances over at Thath, wondering just how he might be taking all of this. "And ... how was it made, anyway?"

"Well.. I'm not the only thing my creator created, just the most 'in her own image' since I'm something of a copy, or at least a partial copy," Kaira notes. Thath is his usual stoic, semi-brooding presence taking it all in. "There were her first kids, and they could make things like this. Not usually this small, and I have no idea where they'd get the blade from. I don't have a lot of that information. But spacetime is amenable to the forces of gravity, and if you can fiddle with it you can fold it up like multi-dimensional origami. But.. I'm surprised the reflections work, since this isn't likely from this universe. If you look at them long enough, you'll catch reflections of your past and future potentialities as well."

"So, basically I'd get to see all my old stupid decisions, then all the new future stupid decisions too? Well, that's not exactly inspiring to want to look at it again," Alptraum notes a bit dryly. "But, this seems rather a dangerous thing for someone to have just lost. Was it supposed to be with someone? And if so, what happened to them?"

"Well, since I'm already guessing anyway," Kaira begins, "Someone had to have come through with it, who could use it, specifically to hunt down Vorgulremik and unmake him. Given what I've learned about exiles though, there's a real possibility that they just forgot, or lost it, or didn't survive or something weird. One possibility is that without my creator pushing them to do it, they decided it wasn't worth going after a monster like Vorg."

"But why is this even needed given you were already set up to erase him?" Alptraum has to ask. "Because the person loved overkill?"

"I was trapped inside with no way to activate," Kaira notes. "And.. well, I wasn't activated while she had Vorg imprisoned either. That's where my knowledge ends. I was created, then nothing happened, then you and Arkold showed up."

"My only other source of information on what transpired in that in-between time would be Vorgulremik himself, I don't think I'll be trusting his claims anytime soon."

"You don't even talk to him, do you?" Alptraum has to ask. "Granted, I rarely do, either."

"Talking to him is dangerous," Kaira notes. "He can twist things around until the unreasonable seems reasonable. Or maybe that's just a weakness in dragons in general that doesn't effect others."

"He plays to your egos, you mean," Alptraum corrects slightly. "Until you think his ideas were really yours, or something along those lines. Anyway! Back to this ... thing. What should we do with it? Should we try to use it ... or should we throw it in a volcano?"

"Well, I don't know if it can be used repeatedly," Kaira admits. "If I were making a weapon that could zero out someone's timelines I would want a safety precaution like that. Dragons are rather sensitive about magic swords falling into the wrong hands you know. Almost always comes back to bite them in the tail. So safest to assume you only get one shot with it, so you need to aim big."

"Why isn't it locked to just affecting that person, then? That way it can only be used for its intended goal," Alptraum has to ask. "Or can it not be tuned that precisely?"

"I think the fact that it's a blade instead of a guided missile suggests that it can't be tuned like that," Kaira says, and frowns. "I still don't know how the blade was made though. But, timestone can certainly be made to do a one shot use, if it can detect when it happens. Then poof, it vanishes up it's own hypotenuse or something."

"Or this thing could last forever, couldn't it?" Alptraum inquires, then pokes Kaira right in the center of her nose with a fingertip. "So, what should we do with this thing?"

"The General would want this to use against Amenlichtli," Kaira suggests. "Amenlichtli would want it to keep it from being used against her. But.. how would they know about it?"

"Because she talked to ol' Vorgy," Alptraum points out. "He told me as much ... wow a while back now. She tried to temp him with stuff."

"So he just had to stir things up, of course," Kaira says, sounding exasperated. "But that's the likeliest explanation, unless someone got their hands on the original assassin and they spilled their guts."

"How?" Alptraum asks. "You don't know how it's made, but you know how to get at least one of us capable of using it?"

"I can open it, therefore you should be able to if you're using my dragon form," Kaira suggests.

"Surely there's another way than me having to impersonate you?" Alptraum has to ask. "Because if I do, then you'll lecture me on how I'm not being you correctly."

"You're being silly," Kaira claims, and says to Thath, "He can get very silly you know." Back to Alptraum she asks, "Do you want to kill Amenlichtli?"

"You didn't deny my statement," Alptraum points out, "So you know you would too. But yes, I do want to be able to deal with her; she's been a bane on this world for far far too long. Going to her, though, is the real challenge. Her island is a deathtrap."

"Yeaaaaah, that part I'm not clear on, admittedly," Kaira says, and adjusts her fake spectacles. "There has to be something to actually stab. Either her original body, or something that embodies her power, sort of like the Light of Nala does for Nala."

"The problem is ... the thing I know of that's remotely close that is linked to her, I can't stab," Alptraum notes and rubs his forehead. "And no, I won't explain further than that."

"A link still has to link back to something," Kaira claims. "She didn't just become a goddess out of spite or something. That almost never happens."

"It takes a good deal of effort to create a goddess," Thath notes. "Speaking from experience."

"Well ... she kind of did. She was at war with her sister and the Savanites .... a long long time ago," Alptraum notes. "At least 50 centuries ago or thereabouts. I think. Records are gone from the exact origin times; so it's all legend and what memories I've found. As for her typical link, it's her family line. I think you can guess why I really don't want to follow that."

"That wouldn't work, it needs to be her, or her spirit or whatever," Kaira notes. "I don't know if a possessed body or avatar would be enough. But.. she's not showing up here, at least not until the General is dealt with. Do you think this is what the mages are actually after?"

Alptraum looks to Thath. "Is there anything else you might have on hand that may be the target? Something the Royal Mages would have known about?" he asks.

Thath opens one of the other chests, which.. opens like a regular chest, using combination lock. He lifts out a glass orb, just like the ones the Gypsy fortune-tellers would use as props. "There's this crystal ball. It is supposed to be an Exile artifact as well."

Alptraum peers into the orb. "Show me the ultimate unknowns and secrets of life," he intones in a ridiculously deep voice.

The longer he holds it, the fast it warms up. And then there's a flicker of light inside! Or more of a flutter. It looks like a tiny fairy-winged being at the very center.

"I never held it, or commanded it," Thath admits. The fair looks more like a fairy-winged lizard now. It holds something out, looking like a blank sheet of black paper with ghostly white characters forming on it.

"Do you know what this is?" Alptraum asks Kaira too as he tries to read the paper.

"I don't see anything but a spark of light," Kaira claims. But to Alptraum, the haze finally begins to form words in Sylvania, although it's giving him a slight headache in the process.

"It's giving me a headache. And it's trying to write in Sylvanian," Alptraum claims. He squints, trying to read the words.

This time it takes longer, since there are more words. They actually scroll up the page. "Translation for those who do not use the same language."

"It's a translation sphere. It helps people communicate," Alptraum says. "Would this really be wanted? Do they need it to translate another artifact?"

"There are Mind spells that handle translation between people," Thath notes. "Will it translate writing?"

Thath returns it to the chest then. "It might be useful if you did not have access to Mind Magic," he notes. The next item is also a small glassy-looking sphere, but a deep blue color that get darker towards the center. "This one I have tried," Thath notes. He holds it up with just the pads of his fingertips, and streams of light eventually begin to flow from those points into the orb. Sometimes like distorted rainbows, and at others like slow lightning bolts spreading out like roots.

"Well, it's pretty, but I'm not sure it's useful for anything? Does it do anything else?" Alptraum asks as he leans in to look.

"Not that anyone has been able to detect," Thath replies. "The colors change depending on age. It may be a means of detecting health, although it has not been tried with anyone who is sick."

Alptraum holds out his right hand to take the sphere to see what it does for him. "Don't pass out," he also notes and pokes Kaira with a wing.

In his right hand, the colors are a bit dull. Given the odd state of that appendage, that shouldn't be a surprise. But the colors and patterns still feel familiar in a way. Something from his youth, maybe. "Observing," Kaira claims. "And yes, dragons like magical gems."

"I have no idea what this is," Alptraum admits. "It feels familiar but I have no idea why." He tries holding it with both hands at the same time.

Now the colors are very different. Much brighter from the left hand, and more rhythmic. It reminds him, oddly, of learning to play the recorder, when he would close his eyes so he could 'see' the sounds better with his ears. It could be a musical instrument for deaf people.

"It might be music," Alptraum explains after turning the orb this way and that. "It's how I 'saw' music when I was young, I think. Good hearing and all that. That's mu guess, anyway. I'm not sure what value it could have to anyone other than being pretty."

"Hmm, it needs to be studied further," Thath notes, and nods. "To see how it responds to the mood of the bearer. It might be able to detect deception or fear."

"Here, Kaira, hold this in one hand and pleasure yourself," Alptraum suggests, with a completely straight face. He also holds out hte orb to her!

The dragon snatches the orb and gives Alptraum a stern glance, as only someone with spectacles and their hair in a bun is capable of. She then gazes at the orb and waits. And waits some more. It doesn't work for her, apparently. Disappointed, she returns it to Thath.

"I was more carefree in my youth as well," Thath claims, although it probably hard to imagine. He returns the orb to its case, and recovers the final treasure.. a book. The binding is glossy, and has an odd drawing on the front. It might be a bird.. it has wings, but strange ones that look more like long fins, and a cigar-shaped body. Very stylized, probably.

"That looks really odd," Alptraum says as he takes the book gently. Carefully, he tries to open it to see what's on the inside.

The foreign text isn't written by hand, certainly. The letters are too exact. There's an obvious index, and what seem to be technical diagrams. There inserted bits of parchment with notes in Babelite though, but not terribly edifying. "Fuel Pump. Volatile liquid used for engine. Kerosene or other refined oil." There are more scattered about as well. "Steering yoke" for example and descriptions of how it moved and what it controlled. There's larger note midway through though, on a page with another oddly egg-shaped diagram. It only has one word on it, however: Boomer.

"It's a manual for building ... a ship. I think," Alptraum comments as he leafs through pages, "It's in Babelite, so ... definitely made by our people." Then there's a pause and his brow arches slightly. "And there's a page on the boomer. That's ... " He frowns and looks past that page now, to see if it says anything more about them.

Not far past that page is an image showing a rotating rack, with six of the devices suspended above a long door in the floor. There's a Jupani (a City Jupani) in a uniform next to them for scale. The picture isn't a drawing though. It's all done in grays, and looks like a real scene.

"Wait, I'm wrong, it's notated in Babelite, but not ours. It's ... Jupani?" Alptraum corrects, and then pauses on that page. "Dagh ... there were six of the things. Six Two were used, right? So .. there are four more, somewhere. That's ... bad."

"Three were used," Thath corrects. "The first one is what resulted in this airship crashing into a sky island in our world. Two more were used here on Sinai. There are three remaining. The man who helped us translate this, a Mr. Jonathan Seagull, is currently a guest of the Temple of Rephidim. He was the surviving pilot you see. And thus the one who knows where the crash is."

"We actually tried to kidnap him during the early days of the last conflict," Thath admits.

"Are the three remaining ones at the crash site?" Alptraum has to ask. "What use is this book, though? It doesn't have locations, but does it have operating instructions? Is that what they want, access to boomers? Why? Once used, it's done, and after three, that's it."

"I have no idea if this is of use to the Mages, but it was something the Sabaoth had sought after once the first Boomer was lost to our forces. Elamoore was not the intended target, obviously, and the airship crew did not know what they had."

"We do know where the Exile ship crashed, in fact," he also says. "It is.. not easily accessible."

"This book seems the most dangerous other than the dagger. The other two objects are more curiosities. Unless they have some other roll we're missing. That one that did music as light? I wonder how it would react in a forbidden zone, for example," he muses, then looks up. "Where is it?"

"And wait, I have an idea ... give me that translating orb," Alptraum asks and holds out his left hand, and keeps the book in his right. "I want to see if it can translate what I'm reading since it said it needed a mind ... so if I'm actively reading, will it perhaps show me. Long shot, but I want to try."

The orb is recovered, and Alptraum now has to read.. an alien alphabet. Kaira remains rather quiet through this and the revelations of the book.

"Orb, can you see what I do, and can you translate it word by word? Let me focus on one word for a bit ... ", Alptraum mutters ... and he does; picks one word in the alien language and stares at it for a bit ... then looks over at Mr. Translate.

The fairy-lizard is still holding the blank chalkboard, but no dust is swirling this time. Apparently it requires someone who understands the language first. Eventually the words form: "Begin reading aloud."

"There is at least one person who can read it, we just do not have access to him," Thath says as he stashes the orb away again. Kaira is looking up at the ceiling. Apparently Thath isn't a smoker, or else someone comes in and cleans it, which seems unlikely for a secret office.

"What is bothering you? You're acting weird," Alptraum notes and pokes Kaira with a wing again. Then as an aside to Thath, he asks again, "Where is the crashed ship?"

"Paradys," Thath explains. "A sky island perpetually shrouded in storms and that flies over Forbidden Zones. One of the 'Eggs' had been blown off during the crash or a storm, supposedly, and recovered in the sea. The second one, we assume, was actually retrieved from the island."

"It is unlikely that the aircraft would operate in Sinai's odd gradient of mechanical variability," Kaira notes. "Without power, the bomb cradle may not rotate either, so those bombs wouldn't be accessible."

"There are also the cannibals," Thath notes. "A strange colony of presumed Aeztepans."

"And yes, the are from Aztepa. Dagh, her having access to those weapons would be really bad," Alptraum says grimly.

"The cult leader was supposedly killed," Thath claims. "But the situation on the island hasn't greatly changed. If you see a spotted Sphynx, it is likely fallen or escaped from Paradys."

"It sounds as if Paradys is a poor bomb platform then," Kaira notes. "This operations manual is not very useful though, beyond detailing how to arm one of the experimental weapons."

"So is that it, then? Just these? None of them seem particularly useful to the Royal Mages," Alptraum admits, glad for the change of subject.

"Not the Mages themselves, no," Thath says. "All other confiscated materials are in a separate vault. You're certain they are after something I posses though?"

"You were specifically the raid target. That's all I know; and it's not an assassination raid," Alptraum admits. He taps his chin a bit. "Is there anything you might have from the Old Sabbaoth? A trinket? Something that on its face would seem to be worthless junk?"

"I no longer have any of the 'gifts' that the Sabaoth or High Princess gave me, not even the just-for-show wedding band," Thath says, crossing his hands behind his back. "These are the only items that are not provided by the Coalition."

"While I have lost bits over the years, nothing has been added," Thath says, shaking his head. "I had little interaction with the Royal Mages. The Sabaoth liked having a right hand in me, but he always made sure I didn't know what his left hand was doing. Playing people and families against one another was both his skill and his primary means of maintaining power."

"And yours," Alptraum points out, then shrugs. "It seems this trip hasn't been very helpful; I'm sorry. We have a weapon we can use against her, maybe, but no way to get to her. And the other items are interesting, but not of immense value save maybe the bomb manual ... with no way to really get a bomb. So .. yeah."

"You should keep the dagger," Thath notes. "If they are working for either the General or Amenlichtli, it is the likeliest target."

"Are you sure? It's yours at this point and I don't want to seem like I'm taking advantage of your ... association to me," Alptraum admits. "I carry your blood, but in so many ways we are still strangers. I don't want to ruin something that's only just starting."

"It is of possible use in your hands," Thath says. "That whoever is behind the Mages knew about it and its location is reason enough to move it."

"This is an odd question ... but is there any aspect of me that is familiar, or reminds you of your wife, or ... anything?" Alptraum asks. "I still don't feel like I belong anywhere."

"There is no denying the physical resemblance to your birth mother," Thath understates. "But your sense of empathy reminds me of your true mother. And I see too much of myself in your moods at times. I imagine you can get quite angry, and also quite low."

"Absolutely not. I've never been angry or ... stop looking at me like that, Kaira," Alptraum remarks, trying to lighten the mood a little. "Too much of yourself; this bothers you?"

"Yes," Thath says. "I am not a good man. My flaws should not fall upon my only child."

"I have never been particularly good," Alptraum admits, "But I try at least. When the good is weighed with the bad, I can only hope I break even."

"Understandable ones, though," Alptraum points out. "And few I blame you for these days. You are a product of the society you grew up in, and you played by its rules. Look at now, though, you've actually helped make a good difference. Late or not, it's more than anyone before you did."

"Being afraid of me helped in that as well," Thath says. "I just need to make sure it will all survive me."

"You have grandchildren. Well, will," Alptraum points out. "So some of that will survive, regardless."

"Perhaps I will get to meet them when my work here is done," Thath notes, looking thoughtful. "Have you learned when the attack is to come?"

"No, and given we've messed up their plans ... I don't even know if the attack is still planned or not," Alptraum admits. "Investigations are still ongoing."

"I will continue as usual then," Thath says. "Although I may rotate out my security detail ahead of schedule."

"I'll let you know if anything comes up. I assume I can trust Abel to relay a message if you are too busy?" Alptraum asks.

"Of course," Thath says. "He is very dependable. As I assume your own secretary is."

"She depends on me. And she knows I will spank her if she gets out of line," Alptraum deadpans.

"You wish," Alptraum comments. "You've been very quiet as of late and that makes me suspicious. You've got a harem now, don't you?"

"Technically it would be referred to as a 'stable' and no, I do not," Kaira claims. "I have put Mirasol in charge of dealing with attempted suitors."

"Intimidate the masses into behaving, of course," Kaira claims. "Did you think I just lounged about on a pile of treasure or something?"

"You just don't visit often enough to see how hard I work, especially since the central management center was destroyed by the Shadow," Kaira claims, crossing her arms over her corset. "I do deserve some down time now and then."

"You work by ordering other people to do stuff," Alptraum points out and laughs. To Thath he notes, "We're friends, so we can do this. She knows I'm not serious."

"Ordering people about in a manner that ensures your will is carried out is quite taxing," Thath claims.

"You have to watch them to make sure they don't go mad with power-by-proxy," Kaira lists off. "Maintain discipline, weed out corruption, keep the baths clean, and deal with ancient grudges between groups that need to work together. And keep your scales polished. Dingy scales are a sign of weakness. They think that I'm a pushover because I'm not Vorgulremik."

"You could always marry him and use his power by proxy of being his wife," Alptraum suggests.

There's a definite chill in Kaira's gaze. "My power is that I will be the one to end him. And anyone else trapped within him. They will push at my boundaries for what they think they can gain, but they will not cross me. They have sworn oaths, after all, and you know what the penalty for breaking one of those is in there."

"You really need a sense of humor, Kaira," Alptraum points out. "It helps deal with the real lows and times when everything seems bleak."

"I have a wonderful sense of humor," Kaira claims. It's not the first time Alptraum has heard that claim. Not even the first time in the last hour for that matter. "Well, I used to. My creator did, a long time ago, anyway."

"And also quit trying to manipulate and use me," Alptraum notes, "But you've been better about that since I pointed out I knew, of course."

"I am a dragon you know," Kaira points out. "And one of the weakest, if not the weakest species of dragon. Manipulating things is what I'm good at. Mostly."

"But where's the fun in that?" Kaira asks. "See, I do have a sense of humor. And I claim that I'm teaching you to be more wary or something."

"Right, well, this is going nowhere," Alptraum notes. To Thath he says, "Do you want to just ... visit? And talk about things that aren't work? I'd love to know about your wife, and I can tell you about growing up. Plus, dinner. Huh, there's a novelty, I don't have to hide that."

"I doubt that will happen. And it'll be a nice break from having to deal with the Yodhrephath and their chest. Actual chest, not their breasts; none of them really have any anyway," Alptraum mutters. To Kaira he says, "As for you, we'll discuss the pink dagger of prissy death later, all right?"

"Just don't try to open any letters with it," Kaira advises, then winks and turns into a blue vapor that seems to be sucked up by the orb on Alptraum's wrist.

"Or shave. Or, well, anything really," Alptraum agrees, talking to his wrist, "It's been fun, Miss Blue. We'll talk again soon and you can show me your stable!" To Thath he says, "My life is odd. Anyway, lets try to talk ... normally? Well, as much as we can. Onward!"