The temple at the peak of Mt. Sunala is always busy. Funerals of course, and families paying their respects to their dead. The long climb up the Pilgrims Path is never too much of a burden apparently. And away from the Path are the tents and other structures of Yodhrinala hospice (though there are no Rinala-based worship or other services on offer). A few brave souls even dare to get close enough to the Srinala Tree, perhaps wondering if it will move again. Between the columns of the temple, the black-robed Yodh go about their business, and also in the grounds to the west, where pilgrims and other visitors are not allowed to go.
Alptraum can fly, but doesn't. Mostly because he's dreading being here to deal with undoing something the Yodhsunala did. So, he's walking slowly up the winding stair path towards the temple. It also gives him a chance to simply feel out, looking for the same sort of tingle-trace he felt in that odd half-dream. He's not trying to keep people away from himself, but he's also keeping a general walking distance from other pilgrims.
The pilgrims are certainly obliging, since if the Barsunala is walking the path to the summit, he's probably got a good reason and shouldn't be distracted from it. Except for a few of the elderly ones who don't recognize him or are too old to care. They're on a mission, and it will take more than a demigod to interrupt their stair-climbing pace. This far from the temple proper it's difficult to sense things. But the Yodh generally don't have magic (or miracles) happening all the time, so there shouldn't be too much noise to filter out.
Alptraum keeps heading upward, hands shoved into the pockets of his pants, and his wings pulled back. He also knows some may not even know he's 'the real thing', whatever that really means in this place. He's probably staring off into space a little, since most of his focus is on trying to feel stuff. He is at least aware if anyone looks toward him, or stares at him for whatever reason they may have. He's also trying to pay enough attention to notice if anyone is trying to get his attention.
There are Yodh stationed along the path, and especially at the end of it. Both Yodhsunala recognize Alptraum, and he can feel their anxiety spike, if not tell why it spikes.
Alptraum stops by one of them along the way. "Is there a problem?" he asks, quietly, while continuing to look up the path.
"We can't leave our posts," the senior Yodh explains. "So we aren't certain how to announce your arrival."
"Do you need to?" Alptraum has to ask and turns his head to look at the Yodh. "You are almost panicking; which seems odd for that."
"We don't have a protocol for you coming up the Path," the Yodh notes. "So we aren't sure if we'll get in trouble for not announcing you.. or for leaving to announce you."
Alptraum waves his head. "Don't worry about it. I'm here on personal business as much as anything," he notes. "Thank you for the honest answer."
"Oh, in that case I suppose it's alright to just let you.. announce yourself then," the senior Yodh says, feeling relieved.
"Indeed. I promise not to pee on anything along the way, either," Alptraum remarks a little dryly perhaps. He lingers a moment to see if that gets a reaction, before heading on.
"Is he supposed to do that?" the younger Yodh asks the senior, who doesn't answer.
Alptraum has to wonder what the question about supposed to do was referring to? Peeing, or not peeing? Not much time to really think about that, though; he's got to focus on the reason he's here ... which means back to trying to locate the source.
The pilgrim groups spread out past this point, some going to the cemeteries, some to the hospice, and a very few towards the temple complex itself. The magic at work in the area is still subtle, and coming from the temple area (since the Yodhrinala generally do not use it, and there don't appear to be any Yodhsunala summoning blessings at the hospice right now).
Alptraum frowns. He had hoped to avoid going to the temple itself; it wouldhave been so much simpler to go into a forgotten cave or the like. But, no such luck. So, after a sigh, he continues on upward towards the temple proper.
Closer to the building, he gets a better sense of what's at work, and the aura of the curse seems to be here somewhere, just not very strong. Enough to get an idea of a location though, which seems to be in a part of the temple that he's never been to before, away from the chambers of the High Priestess.
Alptraum takes a deep breath, and heads for that section of the temple. He doesn't know if he's allowed there or not, but .. it's easier to try to go there and claim ignorance if stopped. Everyone knows how dumb he is, after all!
The Yodh here seem to be mostly Acolytes from their lighter robes. They don't question him certainly, but stop whatever they're doing to follow behind him with curiosity. None are brave to actually say anything though.
Alptraum stops and looks over his shoulder. "Yes?" He asks the ones following. It's not gruff, just more curious about what they might want. "May I help you?"
"Are you here to see Mistress Gerezad?" The one that seems most in the crosshairs asks, after the other sort of shuffle away from her.
"I suppose I am. I am following a trail, of a sorts, and it leads to here. What is her current duty?" Alptraum inquires.
"She's leading the prayer exercises," the Acolyte squeaks. "Like always. She's the only instructor here right now. The proctors are having lunch."
"This is a school, then?" Alptraum inquires. "What are the exercises being conducted? Can you show me the classroom?"
"School?" the girl asks. "It's Yodhsunala training. We're acolytes. I can take you to where the prayer exercises are done."
"All forms of training are schools," Alptraum points out. "Anyway, please show me," he requests.
The Acolyte leads the way, but often pauses and turns to go around other areas. Finally she brings Alptraum to an open inner courtyard, where an elderly Yodhsunala is walking around a circle of acolytes in the lotus position, all facing a petrified tree at the center. The tree is the source of the familiar magical aura.
This makes Alptraum frown. "Why are they praying to that tree?" Alptraum has to ask the Ackolyte. "That is not in honor of Sunala, it's an affront in what it really represents; the Sabbaoth and his corruption."
"What?" the Acolyte asks. "No, we don't pray to the tree, we pray to Sunala, and Mistress Gerezad rates us on how much divine energy we are granted in return. I think the tree is just.. there."
"No, it isn't. It's the source of a curse I've been tracking. And this action is what is fueling it," Alptraum tells the Acolyte. This time he clears his throat, loud enough to hopefully get the woman's attention.
The old woman turns a stern (and blind) gaze towards Alptraum. "No men allowed," she rasps. And the uses her cane to prod one of the acolytes who stopped to look towards Alptraum as well.
"I'm not a man, I'm the Barsunala," Alptraum notes, voice quiet and firm. The room might also be feeling just a little colder and more oppressive too, given his aura is boiling a bit internally. How much do they really know about that tree? Do they know, or are they just pawns now?
"Ah, the rabble-rouser," Gerezad grumbles, and taps her cane three times on the flagstones of the courtyard. "That's it for you lot for today. Go eat, I'm tired of hearing your stomachs complain." With that the Acolytes rise up and quickly file past Alptraum into the temple.
"I don't often ask for respect, and I rarely interfere at the temple, but i would appreciate it if you did not use derogatory names to refer to me," Alptraum says, quietly and then pauses to rub his forehead. "I am here on business; this is not personal against you. Yet, anyway. But if you want to make it personal, so be it. I am here to correct a violation of the tenants of protecting the dead for Sunala, and if you stand in my way, then I'll have to assume you are against her and will be dealt with accordingly."
"Eh? What are you babbling about violations?" the old woman asks, hands stacked over the top of her cane. "Just what do you think is going on here?"
"This tree. It's part of a curse created by the Sabbaoth. It's sole purpose is to fuel a ritual that binds the souls of any woman that displeased him or failed him so that it cannot go to the sea, and so that it withers and is forgotten, along with making all those who knew the women in life forgotten," Alptraum explains simply, and coldly. "This tree and your prayers around it, fuel to deny souls of the dead from Sunala and the sea. You are playing the part in a very old ritual and curse. Can you not feel the tree? It may look petrified and inactive, but it is not."
"It's a sink," Gerezad claims. "Every Temple has one for training. It finds those with divine gifts.. and siphons off the power they raise, since they don't know how to wield it yet. All Yodh are brought up this way, except for the Yodhblakat and Yodhgorphat."
"It is a tap; it's drawing off your powers to fuel the curse. I walked the space in-between; I have walked the world this curse fuels. You may be using it for a sink, but its true purpose is far worse," Alptraum corrects, firmly. "Where, pray tell did it come from, hmm? Records lost to time, perhaps? Or do you know exactly where, and that would have been the Tower and the Sabbaoth."
"It's part of the Temple, which is eternal," Gerezad claims. "The power returns to Sunala through it. As those at the other temples return to their goddesses."
"It does no such thing," Alptraum notes, darkly. "I'm here to destroy it."
The cane comes up, and points in Alptraum's general direction, "Destroy it? It is part of the Temple! A divine artifact of Sunala herself! You can't just destroy it! Only Sunala has that authority."
"Who do you think you are talking to?" Alptraum asks. "Do you think I'm some nothing off the streets? I was born of her. I've walked the Sea. I've stepped between the worlds of the living and the dead. I have put up with numerous insults and disrespect from the Yodhsunala for years. I've endured abuse to even attempts on my existence from those pro-ported to be my sisters. My patience is wearing very thin with this, and with many of you. You want me to be a monster like many of you are? Very well, you get your wish." And with that Alptraum pushes out the shadow and aura, encircling the room as well as himself. His voice also grows more hollow and raspy as he says, "Fine, I'll shed the kindness, the compassion, and become simply a tool for ending."
"I am Yodhsunala, I will not waver in my faith or my duties," Gerezad recites, and she does have a magical presence. "Nor my adherence to the Lore. You are not my Goddess. You should not be acting against Her. Please do not do this thing, Barsunala, not behind Sunala's back."
I'm not acting against her," Alptraum says darkly and wraps shadow tendrils about the woman now to try and siphon off any spirit or life magic she may try to summon to her. Much like he did with the mage back in the tower to prevent him from using it. "You have no idea of the atrocities I have seen, or endured. You have shown no respect to Sunala's own son; instead belittling him with insults and names. How can you dare to claim you don't waver in your faith or duties when you can't even bother with at least being willing to speak to her own damn son and hear him out? Give me one reason I shouldn't rend your soul and body right here and now."
"Because you are acting without her blessing," Gerezad says, starting to weaken. "That makes me question you. I've no proof of anything you say, or that you are who you claim. You do not seem like the Barsunala I've heard about. This is Sunala's Temple, we are her Daughters, and this is the Lore. Until this is sorted out, the prayer practice will not take place here. That is what you want, isn't it? To stop the power flowing to this dead tree?"
"What have you heard? That's I'm a weak male who's far too kind and compassionate? Foolish in his actions and naive? The one who was so stupid as to have nearly sacrificed himself to save a Yodhsunala who just tried to harm him? The one who many of you, if not all, have made clear you hate?" Alptraum asks, "Do you know what it feels like to have your own family, other than your Mother, hate you? I rarely come to the temple because outside of Sunala Herself, it was made well known to me I was not particularly welcome here."
"I've heard that you are gentler and kinder," Gerezad says. "And that you want things to be different. You have the Avatar's ear, or some sort of influence. All I know is that things are changing, and I'm too old for that. Now you claim that my entire life has been a blasphemy! Why isn't the High Priestess here, or the Avatar, to order me to stop? Are you going to do this to all of the other Temples, without leave of their Goddesses? And expect them to just let you?"
"I could kill them all," Alptraum growls, "Wipe this city clean of all of it and all of you. There are many that would want me to do exactly that; and have asked that be the change I make. It would be easy, with all I know now and those I could call upon." The shadow wrapping the woman tightens and starts sinking into her, then abruptly releases her and withdraws from the room, back into Alptraum as quickly as it came. "But I'm just a weak male who can't let go that must be something worth saving in spite of it all. I'm stuck between trying to save my sisters who hate me, and undo the horrors the Sabbaoth and Amenlichli seeded here for centuries. And in the end, I know not a single one of you will say thank you. But then, how many people have ever thanked you? Genuinely? You can probably count it out on one hand. It's easy to get lost in one's own pain and not see that in another."
"I believe the dead thank us," Gerezad gasps, and falls to her knees, clutching her staff. "I am old, and I do what I have been trained to do. There will be others like me, in the temples that still stand. If Sunala says the trees must be destroyed, Her Sisters will follow along. If you do it yourself, you will loose favor. We have been forced to deal with so much change in the last few years, we are a bit defensive. Some of this is turned against you, I'm certain. A fear that we have been, and still are being manipulated somehow."
"You were; the threads run deep and I keep finding new ones," Alptraum says as he goes over to steady the older Eeee; and even share some life energy back with her to make up for what was taken. "This last one was particularly personal to me, and it angers me for how long it has been going on," he admits. "But, there may be other options than destruction. It only took nearly shredding an old woman to think of it. I am sorry," he apologizes. Then to prove it, he tries to use the shadow more constructively with her; namely try to see if he can guide it and what life energy he may hold to give the old woman something back; her sight, if he can heal her eyes.
It's not a simple thing, as the nerves have decayed. Being Eeee, she doesn't necessarily suffer from the blindness, she's just very, very old. She could be Thath's grandmother.
Alptraum tries anyway; if it's one thing he knows in detail physically; it's Eeee.
"My head is throbbing," she notes. "I didn't know my heart could still beat like this. At least she wasn't always blind, so the repairs will still connect to places that know how to see. "Hallucinating now too. Maybe I just need to sit down for a bit.."
"No, what you are feeling I am doing," Alptraum notes. "My apology to a woman I have wronged. Please don't panic."
"So I'm finally dying then?" she asks. "Took long enough! I don't know if my retirement keeps getting put off because I'm good at what I do or bad at what I do. I've never questioned Sunala about that."
"No, you're not dying. I'm just fixing your eyes," Alptraum notes.
"Do they look disturbing?" Gerezad asks. "Acolytes need to learn to face anything, especially old people. I suppose I'll have to scare them some other way, or claim I've been faking it. But I know the power for this has to come from someplace. You aren't worshipped, after all. So who or what is ultimately paying for this gift?"
"Myself. It comes from me, and costs me ultimately. I have ways to replenish myself, so don't worry about it," Alptraum notes.
"Should be saving it for those with more life to begin with," the old woman grumbles, but starts to blink. The 'boiled' appearance of her eyes begins to fade. Her restored eyes aren't exactly pretty, just a sort of muddy brown-black with yellowed sclera. "Ugh, I can see," she says, and turns to look up at Alptraum.
"Sorry that your first sight is me," Alptraum admits. "And don't worry about what I used for what. Maybe this was residue from when I stopped the royal Mages from casting a spell by absorbing it. So, think of it as giving a Royal Mage a rude gesture."
"Eh, don't know anything about mages, Royal or otherwise," she says. "I thought you would be fatter, with the deep voice."
"Fatter? That's oddly specific," Alptraum notes. "I'm just physically big."
"I was at the funeral of an opera singer," she explains. "They say he had a deep voice. And he was fat."
"Feeling any better? I should let you get back to teaching," Alptraum notes.
"Better, and no prayer practice until things are.. resolved," Gerezad says and stands up on her own. "Ugh.. forgot how to see and not get dizzy. Will get used to it. Are you going to see the Avatar or the High Priestess now?"
"Maybe. I need to see if the idea I thought of would even work, first. Mainly circumventing the curse feed and it's siphon into feeding back to what it was purported to be for in the first place. That would be as effective as destroying it, without damaging your Lore and position," Alptraum notes. "I just have no idea how to do that, but I know those who would know."
"What.. other Yodh?" the elder asks.
"Not ... exactly. I know experts in curses and siphon spells. They're just ... not really alive per se, and I'll have to go on a worldwalk to talk to them," Alptraum says and shrugs a little. "Plus i should probably go since I've likely scared every acolyte in a three mile radius."
"You didn't walk through their quarters or the bath getting here, did you?" Gerezad asks, her voice taking a harsh tone again.
"No, why would I? It's more I just saturated this place in anger and doom," Alptraum notes, "Worse than it usually is."
"I'll tell them to use blessed scrub-brushes to get it out," the old bat claims, bobbing her chin. "They'll believe it."
Alptraum just shakes his head. He gets up and looks back at that tree. He makes a few steps towards it to better see if there are any marks on it, and even echo-pings it to see if there is echo-writing on it; shapes cared to produce 'letters' in sound when pinged.
There doesn't appear to be anything there, other than the petrified wood. But it is a tree, and presumably there are roots.
"Why douldn't you have something I could have written down for review?" Alptraum complains at the tree. Giving up, he bows to Gerezad and then heads slowly back the way he came.
The original guide is still there at the next intersection, hugging herself. "Do.. do we need to collect the body?" she asks nervously when Alptraum reaches her.
"She isn't dead. Were you spying?" Alptraum inquires. "Are you scared?"
"She.. you didn't come to retire her?" the girl asks. "We thought all high-level Yodhsunala got retired by the Barsunala. I'm n-not afraid!" She tries to stand up taller, which isn't much, given her age. "I'm too young and healthy to retire," she claims.
"No, I didn't come for her. There's a matter I need to deal with and other than a minor disagreement, she's fine. Better than when I came, in fact," Alptraum notes and shrugs. "Am I really that scary?" he asks.
"You're the Barsunala, and you're a man," the acolyte points out. "You deal with the dead, and.. you're a man." She whispers that last part, as if worried saying it aloud will cause the roof to fall in.
"And why is being a man scary?" Alptraum has to ask and crouches down. "You deal with the dead too."
"But not.. to the same degree," the girl says, trying not to shrink away. "You still deal with them afterwards. We just have to make sure they die properly, and the bodies are prepared, and.. some of us will become full priestesses.."
"It's not that different afterwards as if they were alive. Well, in terms of having all the usual issues people have about stuff," Alptraum says and shrugs a little. "Anyway, I am sorry if I scared you or any of your friends."
"Being dead isn't peaceful?" the girl gasps. "I'm braver then they are, is all. I kept you from wandering into our bunk room even."
"Why would that be a problem? I am not going to do anything to any of you," Alptraum points out.
"It would be embarrassing," the girl claims. "The minor barsunala aren't even allowed to be in this part of the temple. Oh.. do you need me to lead you out?"
"If you want to," Alptraum says and gets back up.
This time the acolyte has a bit of a swagger, especially when they pass the other acolytes that are peeking out from doorways or from behind columns. At least until they leave that section of the temple, and it's into the part where acolytes aren't supposed to be. "In return for this, I expect you to come for me personally when I retire," the girl says.
Alptraum arches his brow slightly. "Don't get arrogant, please," he requests. "And I will keep that in mind."
The girl then smiles big before running back into the acolyte wards.
Alptraum rolls his eyes. "Kids," he mutters. "Now I think I'll go jump off the side of the mountain."
"Barsunala," the familiar voice of High Priestess Sukara calls, as the Yodhsunala approaches. "Can I help you with anything?"
"Possibly, or we may be at odds," Alptraum admits. "The old petrified tree; while it may be a focus for Sunala, it unfortunately has another purpose that goes against her. It's acting as a focus-point for an old Sabbaoth curse designed to trap the souls of anyone that displeased him, for complete obliteration outside of Sunala's hands. Did you know that?"
Sukara blinks at this. "That is not exactly a topic for a hallway discussion," the High Priestess says after recovering for a moment. "Would you come to my office?"
"That depends, are there guards there waiting to try and kill me?" Alptraum asks in all seriousness. It wouldn't be the first time a Yodh has tried to kill him.
"You think I'd just have guards waiting to do that?" the High Priestess asks. "I'm an assassin, you realize. But Yodhsunala do not kill Yodhsunala. I want to hear more about this.. thing.. you've uncovered, but not out where anyone can overhear."
"I'm not Yodhsunala," Alptraum points out, "And I have had Yodhsunala assassins try to kill me. But as you ask, I will come to your office."
"Things were messy a few years back," Sukara notes, and hurries Alptraum to her office, which also seems to double as the records room from the amount of scrolls and bound tomes filling shelves. She doesn't bother setting at her desk, but immediately goes to the shelves. "Now, please give me all the details you can," she says with her back to him.
"I know it is one of the sources as I recognize its aura. I know its aura because I have been in the world it powers, where it collects the souls of any woman who disappointed the Sabbaoth. Most are wives that failed to give him a son. So, he killed them and imprisoned their souls there to rot away, while also erasing their memories in those that knew them," Alptraum explains. "They're turned into withering glowing trees in that place, and if reverted, are crucified arm and wing."
"More detail about the spell," Sukara amends. "How long has it been in effect, for example."
"If I had to guess, centuries. It is a long-running ritual and is being maintained, possibly unwittingly, by the various Temples," Alptraum notes. "The fact it not only drains away their souls, but that it can effect the entire city to wipe their memory is disturbing. It also holds the souls of many of the Sabbaoth's female descendants."
"Why would he.. oh, daughters," Sukara says, and finds what she's looking for: a rather heavy looking bound volume. She heaves it onto her desk and opens it. "The Yodhinala might have all the birth records and genealogies, but we have the death records," she notes. "No spell can erase these," she claims and starts at the beginning. "The Sabaoth did have daughters.. I know I've seen it," she mutters.
"The spell might erase them, it seems quite ... complete," Alptraum notes. "So don't assume that."
"That's just it," Sukara claims, "If these weren't erased, they will provide a date," She then points to an entry. "Sassarazadze, daughter of the Sabaoth, died 764 RTR, aged 39, in childbirth."
"I am talking children, not adults. That was an adult," Alptraum notes and shrugs a little. "And isn't that name ... used more recently as well?"
"Names get reused over the course of four thousand years," Sukara points out. "But, this shows that the Sabaoth had a daughter that was not killed. She was married off to one of the noble families.. hmm. That family was later killed in a coup attempt. After that, there are no records of daughters, only of wives. And he did have a son from the same wife. This was before the trend of one wife, one child.."
"Then the spell likely started sometime around then," Alptraum notes. "Why the interest on when it started? I am more concerned with stopping it."
"Old spells are powerful," Sukara explains. "They aren't like torches you can just extinguish. Especially something that can curse spirits and the living. There will be a record of it somewhere. The Yodhzakaro are not known for rituals to affect memory, so it must be from outside of the Yodh somehow..."
"Likely tied to Amenlichli or something related," Alptraum suggests helpfully. "It's likely older than the current mage guild."
"The Royal Mages were always cheaters, using artifacts and such," Sukara agrees, nodding. "Rituals and spells can't run forever just from being powered up, but enchantments can. There's something that is the focus, which maintains it all."
"Well, it is related to that tree. The echo of the spell I can feel vibrating from it," Alptraum notes. "I wish I could explain it better, but I an not a mage and have no formal training in anything."
"The tree.. the practice tree?" Sukara asks. "That.. makes sense, if you needed to power something without revealing what it was. And that means the focus should be in proximity, so still in the city and not wherever the Palace was sent to."
"The fact that if they're at every Temple would mean it encircles the city too," Alptraum points out. "And yes, the practice tree. I almost killed Gerezad over it."
"Hmm? Oh, she's still alive?" Sukara asks, and gives a shudder. "She was old when I as an acolyte. If this is being done than an artifact, the Yodhbarada or Yodhzakaro might know about it. Or a surviving Royal Mage. But most of there magical treasures were seized by the Coalition."
"I'm aware of the latter, I've already visited and collected one; but it's unrelated to this," Alptraum notes and shrugs a little. "And yes, she's still alive. I also gave her, her vision back.. As for who might know, none of those I particularly want to talk to."
"This is so old, that it may be nobody knows," Sukara says. "But! You say you can sense it? The focus shouldn't be that different. And you seem friendly with the mages too."
"I am. They promised to quit trying to kill me for a while," Alptraum says dryly. "So, that's something. I thought about asking Nekara to examine the tree to see if she can infer anything from it I cannot as she has some formal training, and being a woman won't get grief just going in there."
"I can assign her to examine it, without telling her why," Sukara says.
"That's fine. But ... I'm curious why you wouldn't tell her," Alptraum notes. "Do you not trust her?"
"Because you don't want to get false results," Sukara claims. "Send her in expecting to find something and she probably will, whether it is there or not."
"Fair enough," Alptraum agrees. "Should I also talk to Sunala directly about this?"
"I can't advise you on family matters," Sukara claims. "If you need to convince the Kindly Ones to do something though, that would probably be the way."
"This is more than a family matter," Alptraum points out. "You speak with her daily, do you not?"
"My relationship with Her is different," Sukara notes. "I do what she tells me to, and does not ask my advice about things."
"You do not simply talk?" Alptraum asks. "Why is it that no high priestess just talks to their Goddess? I went on chocolate treasure hunt with Blakat! How can you understand anyone if you don't talk to them?"
"Chocolate.. treasure hunt?" Sukara asks, sounding a little concerned. "You are able to talk to her, and her companion can, but the Yodh are bound by the Lore. We can't just chat about the weather."
"You could, you choose not to," Alptraum reminds. "And yes, chocolate treasure hunt. There were pirates. It was a little strange," he has to admit. "I've taken Barada to a carnival once too."
"I am not you, clearly," Sukara points out. "I see Sunala as a Death incarnate, and I will do nothing to alter that perception. She is the most important goddess of all. The most powerful. The most fearsome."
"And makes a good cup of tea," Alptraum adds and rubs his face. "I've sat and talked with a demon that literally turns people inside out and makes them slaves. Talking to Sunala is normal in comparison. I wish any of you could understand what it's like, or what you're missing by constraining yourself like such. But, I'm not here to argue this point. i just want to stop the old spell."
"Are you going to visit Her?" Sukara asks.
"I should, but I'm afraid to. Not because she's Death Incarnate. That doesn't scare me. It's disappointing her, or upsetting her; that scares me. Because she looks sad, and it hurts," Alptraum admits.
"Then you should do it, because avoiding it definitely will make her sad," Sukara advises. "Not saying you need to discuss this issue. You can talk about the weather."
"Why would it make Her sad?" Alptraum has to ask. "Does she even mention me?"
"She asks for news of you," Sukara admits. "She is probably concerned."
Alptraum peers. "I thought you didn't discuss things with her about Family," he points out.
"I do not," Sukara says. "But she asks me things."
"And you do not answer?" Alptraum asks.
"Of course I answer," Sukara says, bristling a bit.
"But I do not offer rumors or gossip," she clarifies.
"Given most of them about me are likely insulting or crude, probably a good idea," Alptraum admits.
"There is not much verified information about your activities," Sukra points out.
"Which is why much of it is likely insulting or crude," Alptraum points out, then shrugs. "If I learn anything more about the old spell, I will let you know. I just ask to please not use that tree for now for anything; I don't want to keep bolstering it."
"Moving the prayer practice to another shrine is simple enough," Sukara agrees. "Is that the only power source for the ritual that you know of?"
"The primary one, but there are suggestions that there are others at each temple, so I will have to check," Alptraum notes. "So, it looks like I'll have to visit them all. Ah well, not the first time."
"The other Temples are in ruins, besides Mt. Rephath," Sukara notes. "But, I don't know that the decimated Yodh aren't training new members."
"Just because they're in ruins doesn't mean they aren't in effect. If the item still stands, it's hard to say if it wasn't also still doing something. So, best to be sure about it and verify," Alptraum says as he rubs the back of his neck slowly. "I also want to ask, am I welcome here? It's hard to tell; the Yodh here tense up any time I show up."
"You are the Barsunala," Sukara says. "Only a very select few interact with the Avatar, and there is no protocol for how to act towards you. And yes, there are still those who do not approve of incarnations and avatars, and think it might be a trick or something else."
"What do you think? And don't worry, whatever answer you give is just between us," Alptraum says. "I have a hard time coming here. I do feel rather unwelcome."
"My dealings with Sunala are very formal, but I know that she treats her companion and retainers differently," Sukara says. "That suits me, because I prefer the comfort of formality. Partly for myself, partly because I hope it reminds her of her station. I think I've tried to be formal with you as well. You are part of her.. inner circle, I suppose. But I can only guess at your relationship, based on things she asks. I still have to run this place, and perform the sacred duties, after all. I prefer minimal disruption. And.. I would hope you would seek me out first before others I'm in charge of. It does frankly threaten me a bit to be left out of such things."
"Your position in the hierarchy has not been made clear," she adds. "That could be another source of confusion for the rank-and-file."
"I thought you did not wish to be bothered by me, so I have spared you my presence as much as I could," Alptraum notes as he interlaces his fingers and frowns a bit. "I try to avoid standing in anyone's way here, and to work on things behind the curtain, so to speak. I also tend to be intentionally informal as to be more approachable by anyone. I don't want people to be afraid of me, nor not trust me. Fear doesn't give you long term allies, nor any real peace. Much of the state of the city is the result of trying to rule by fear and favor, at least in my opinion."
"The issue is with certain traditions, though they are obscure ones," Sukara says. "In ritual, the Barsunala is a behind-the-curtain figure, invoked in funerary rites and of course with the srinalas. That wasn't always the case, however. There are roles that are more.. well, based on the Barsunala being a physical person. By some, you are my husband, for instance. But those have their origins with the Sabaoth - who once claimed the title of Barsunala, before simply granting divine privileges to himself directly. So I have been reluctant to bring those old ways to light, given the circumstances. But I think it safest for you to fall into the role of saint, which seems more suited to you. The problem there is that the role doesn't really define how the lower Yodh should treat you, so much as your relationship with normal people."
"So, am I your husband?" Alptraum inquires and leans slightly against the wall. "Or would you prefer it if i left and did not return? What would you ask of me?"
"I would ask: where do you want to fit in with the Yodhsunala?" Sukara asks. "And I'm twice your age. I wouldn't know what to do with a husband even if I had time to do it."
"I do not think you are twice my age. I'm probably older than you think I am," Alptraum points out. "As for where I fit, I don't know. I've tried to be respectful and stay out of your way as much as I can. This is the first time I've come to the temple to actively stop something since I returned to the city."
"And the tree incident," Sukara reminds. "We still haven't fixed the hole in the roof. But you do need to come here on occasion, so it would be nice to just have some set of rules that can be handed down to the Yodh so they know how to behave, and thus will be comforted."
"The tree was not intentional; an unexpected result in parlay with monsters in the Forbidden Zone," Alptraum points out. "I would have avoided it if i knew it was going to happen." He shrugs a little, noting, "Right now I'm trying to forge a future for Babel, and all of you. Were it not for me, you would have all been wiped out by now. I've even been asked since I've been back in the city to kill all of you. I haven't. The one thing I would ask is to not be insulted or made fun of. That, I admit, gets to me; given all the crap I've buffered on behalf of all of you. No insults, help if I ask for it. I don't want or expect bowing or other such nonsense."
"I would amend that to asking help of me or the Avatar if it isn't something trivial, like directions," Sukara says. "If they see you looking lost, is it fine for a Yodh to approach and ask if you need help?"
"Or should they just fetch me?" Sukara asks.
"Asking if I need help is fine," Alptraum replies. "I thought that would be fairly obvious, but I'm used to me. Or would you prefer to be the only person that interacted with me?"
"You'll have to use your judgment on whether a request is going to be over the head of any given Yodhsunala," Sukara says, "But when in doubt, ask them to fetch me. Not bring you to me, fetch me." She holds up a long finger on that point. "I come to you. That must be consistent."
"Why is that?" Alptraum asks. "I don't see the symbolism you are trying to convey."
"You do not have an official place in the hierarchy of authority, however you are the Barsunala. I am the High Priestess. I serve the divine. The divine is not brought to me seeking audience. This will make it clear what your importance is, and also make it clear that those who have doubts will be going against my authority, which they must respect."
"Ah, then that makes sense," Alptraum agrees and nods. "I hope that helps lessen the problems I have caused."
"The problem was not with you, but with the lack of rules regarding you," Sukara says, and sighs. "I am grateful that Sunala does not wish go shopping or meet with pilgrims or anything. She limits her contacts with the Yodh and others through me so far. And I bring her what others request of her. Middle management is burdensome."
"I could take her shopping if need be," Alptraum offers.
Sukara twitches at that prospect. "It was bad enough when the Yodhsunala were trying to kill you to 'prove' you weren't the Barsunala. I don't need anyone else thinking they could 'kill death' only for Sunala to wipe out half the city because she's bound to the reactions of a young girl."
"And you don't fear I could wipe out half the city for similar reactions?" Alptraum has to ask, brow arched.
"The Barsunala is not Death," Sukara points out. "He is the Psychopomp. His role comes after Death. Please don't go around performing mass-killings."
"At least, not any that do not have a good religious justification," she adds.
"So, you do believe I'm capable of it," Alptraum notes. "Interesting."
"We are the Yodhsunala," Sukara says. "We've killed a lot of people. But supernatural affairs or dealing with demonic forces are not things we handle, aside from the occasional exorcism. And even those usually ended up in death."
She then gestures to.. a blank wall. "But out there, right now, is an encampment of Yodhrinala. A few years ago, we would have executed them on sight."
"You've killed, but not a lot at once, by yourself," Alptraum points out. "And I am very likely capable of it; I've just never tried. I would also prefer it if you didn't harm them; they're just trying to help people."
"Sunala has coopted Rinala's role," Sukara says. "You'd be surprised.. or maybe you wouldn't.. how angry that made certain Yodh at her spotted friend."
"Her spotted friend should also be left alone. She is very important; and not just because she is Sunala's friend," Alptraum points out. "Harming her would earn the wrath of quite a few Goddesses, Angels, and Demons."
"Tell that to tradition-bound assassins that question the validity of a living embodiment of Death," Sukara says. "Wait, actually, I've already done that. Which is why all of Sunala's retainers are counter-assassins whose loyalty I am certain of."
"I could change their ... views, if you want. What words don't fix, demons that turn you inside out do," Alptraum comments, perhaps a bit darkly.
"I'd rather they come around properly, through faith," Sukara says. "I don't want my Sisters to suffer or die because of doubt. Nor do I want Sunala to have to perform a miracle to prove herself. Her miracles are usually terminal, after all. That is what stands Sunala out from the other Kindly Ones: her actions cannot be duplicated with mundane magic."
"All right. Well, the offer stands if need be," Alptraum says and stands. "Do you have anything you wish to ask of me?"
"What's going on out there?" Sukara asks. "We aren't the Yodhbarada, after all. We only get rumors and deathbed confessions, neither of which are reliable. Is Babel preparing for another war?"
"The Royal Mages are preparing an assault to claim something. What, I am not sure; but it may be a weapon capable of killing a God. Said item has been handed over to me for safekeeping," Alptraum explains. "The Yodhrephath have one of the Royal Mages caught. Well, three, squished into one. I brought him in. He has been interrogated, and a chest he carried is being examined."
Sukara has gray fur, but it seems to go a little grayer. "A weapon? There's only one god in Babel you could use a physical weapon on."
"It's not quite a physical one, and it's a threat to any immortal. It's a weapon made of compressed time, if you can even imagine that. It supposedly removes them from existence by unmaking them and all their threads through time. It can't be easily wielded either. I'm not sure if they found a way or not," Alptraum further explains.
"This is something they already had but was locked away?" Sukara asks, leaning in slightly. "I know the Coalition confiscated almost everything they had, and the Mages fled for their lives on the night of purge."
"Probably because none of them could wield it," Alptraum points out. "No one has yet been able to draw it. Well, save one person that only I know and have access to. But that doesn't mean they haven't since figured out a way on their own, given Amenlickli is advising them and she's thousands of years old.""
"That.. is another point I'm not clear on," Sukara admits. "The General and Amenlichtli. Is the General a puppet, or rebelling against her, or is it all just a charade and the situation is something else entirely? Because if the General is rebelling against Amenlichtli, then having a weapon to destroy her would be a goal. But, Amenlichtli would want it to use against Sunala, whether the General was rebelling or not. Or does one want it so the other can't get it? Or is the General just a distraction?" Apparently the High Priestess has a paranoid imagination.
"It could be any and all of those. Right now I'm working off what I know and actively preventing what I can. Worst case if I need to get rid of the weapon, I use it on myself. It's got one use, and after that ... pfft, it's gone," Alptraum claims.
"Can't be used on a hog?" Sukara asks. "We have plenty of those now. I have no idea what hogs are even for."
"I'm not sure if it requires being used on someone relatively powerful to fully use up. But maybe? If it's going to be used, though, I'd prefer it be on a monster; of which I qualify," Alptraum notes.
"I'm fairly certain being willing to use it on yourself means you aren't a monster," Sukara notes. "But.. that has done nothing to allay my worries. Sunala would be very upset by such a course of action, you know."
"If it meant protecting her, though," Alptraum points out, "The choice is easy."
"That would seem the opposite, since you are a better protector," Sukara says, and rubs her temples. "Are you going to tell her about any of this?"
"Better than a temple full of armed assassins?" Alptraum points out. "And no, I didn't intend to tell her everything so she does not worry."
"I shouldn't have asked," Sukara admits. "But I'll find a way to deal with it without having to lie if she asks me about it."
"You just don't provide any details unless specifically asked. It's not lying then," Alptraum points out. "And it surprises me, you seem to be worried about me."
"You are the Barsunala, and shouldn't be killable," Sukara notes. "So it would be bad on all levels if you got killed. Personal, political and religious. Please avoid it."
"Well, nothing is safe to a weapon that erases someone's existence," Alptraum points out. "It goes beyond just being killed."
"Avoid the mundane methods as well please," Sukara says. "There are better targets for such a weapon. I can come up with a list if you want, just give me a day."
"I have plenty of my own," Alptraum says. "All I can do is try, but I am dealing with unheard of things and complicated situations. Is there anything more you wish to ask of me, or shall I leave you to your duties?"
"Candied crickets," the High Priestess says. "Bring candied crickets the next time you visit."
"That is an odd request. Why?" Alptraum asks.
"Srinala likes them," Sukara says. "According to the spotted one. She's the only one who calls her Srinala."
Alptraum ahs, "For her. Well, I can hardly refuse that request. I will do so."
"That's all I can think of," Sukara says. Then she dips a quill into her ink pot and scrawls some notes. "I'll have Nekara examine the tree, and switch the practice to.. the new tree. Is that going to be problematical as well?"
"I don't think so," Alptraum notes. "It's not bound to that ritual anyway, or any others at this point I am aware of.
"
"Will you be going to see Sunala now?" the High Priestess asks. "It's nearly tea time for her. She doesn't deal with Temple matters during her tea time."
"I was, yes. Is this a bad time, then?" Alptraum asks. "I am sort of a Temple matter."
"You are not a Temple matter, you are a family matter," Sukara says. "Plus you can bring in the tea service."
"Ah, so you want me to be a butler," Alptraum comments with a chuckle. "I see how it is."
"I think it will be a pleasant surprise for her," Sukara claims. "It will also let you use the secret entrance, since the tea is prepared within her apartments by the retainers."
"Sneaky and nice dressing, there," Alptraum comments. "You are a true politician."
"I'm not that cut-throat," Sukara claims in defense. "Besides, you are supposedly able to stay hidden. If anything happens to me, I want to make sure you know the way into Sunala's chambers. I only know of it because they used to be my chambers, and sometimes you want a way to sneak out."
"All right, all right," Alptraum says and holds up his hands, "Lets go."
"Follow me, then," Sukara says, and gets up from her desk to head into the stacks of books and scrolls. The Yodh sure do like to keep their records, it seems. At least the ones that aren't crazy. They reach a dead-end soon enough (the office/archive isn't /that/ big), and it's a bit cramped. "Here," she says, indicating a very dusty book about grave-soil maintenance, according to the symbols on the spine.
"You used probably the most dull book in the collection as the key?" Alptraum has to ask, brow arched a bit. "Though, it's trapped isn't it? Poison needles? Pit opens up to spikes? Rain of Eeeps?"
She takes the book and leafs through it, explaining, "This is a very old book, copied many times by people who were very bored with their job." She stops at a random page, and points to some doodles in the margins. They seem to depict some sort of angry Lapi doing battle with a giant snail.
"Is this from Sylvaania? We have both Lapis and giant snails," Alptraum points out.
She flips through more pages, revealing rabbits riding snails, having tea with snails, and mating with snails. "Maybe it was," Sukara admits. "Are there also giant snails there? I assume the snails just represented penises."
"Giant snails, walking houses, giant bunnies. If it's weird, Sylvania has it," Alptraum ticks off. "It had me, after all."
"But only one of you," Sukara points out. "Hardly a trend." She then points down to the floor. Since the place is naturally dim (Eeee not being big on excessive indoor lighting) it takes a moment to notice the stone tiles have very subtle animal shapes in them. And these are animal in the Sylvanian sense as well - not many outside of that land would recognize an actually rabbit.
"Ah, so the code is in the doodles," Alptraum comments. "In what order, though?"
"That is the trick," Sukara explains. "The code is indecipherable, because there isn't one. It's a false trail. Stand facing the wall, and put your weight on the rabbit that's also facing the wall. Then push with both hands on the center stone."
"The other floor tiles have animals that appear in the margins of other books here," she notes.
"Ah, the make it simple because people will look for the complex approach," Alptraum comments as he faces the wall, shifts his weight, then pushes. "I do have to wonder if this wasn't your secret love nest for nubile young men."
"Do you think I could complete with a Yodhinala?" Sukara says. Once his weight is on the bunny, Alptraum feels a slight give to the stone he's pushing against, and is rewarded with a very subtle 'click' from somewhere nearby.
"Do I think you could? Yes, I do think you could," Alptraum comments as he dusts off his hands after the click. "Attractiveness is as much attitude and personality as it is looks. I've known a few Yodhinala, and honestly? They're not pretty."
"What, you think I would be a woman to die for?" Sukara asks.. with a perfectly straight face. "Now, follow me to where the secret door you just unlatched actually is."
"No, you're a woman to live for," Alptraum comments with an equally straight face, then follows.
The end up in the High Priestess's private toilet. Unlike the rest of the office-archive, it's paneled in wood, and one of the side panels is loose. "There is a ladder beyond this, which leads down to a narrow passage that meets up in the servant's toilet in my former suites."
"This is a crappy secret passage," Alptraum remarks a bit dryly as he moves the panel more to expose the ladder. "I'll get going, then."
"There's more.." Sukara says before Alptraum can leave.
Alptraum looks back. "What now?" he asks.
"At the far ladder, there will be a whistle on a string," the High Priestess notes. "You must blow on it in this order: three long, two short, two long, one short, then five long. You won't be able to hear the whistle, it is too high even for Eeee, but there is an item in the apartment that will respond to it. Just keep repeating the pattern until someone opens the secret door for you."
"And I need to do this why, exactly? Is it just to get the door open? Disable something? This is overly complicated," Alptraum points out.
"The door can only be opened from inside the apartment," Sukara explains. "A retainer will open it."
"All right. Now, is there anything else on top of this?" Alptraum asks to be sure.
"Yes," Sukara says. "There is a pass phrase as well: Sukara is to die for."
Alptraum blinks. "You're kidding me, aren't you?" he asks.
"Do I look like I am a kidder?" Sukara asks. "That is what you must say when asked."
"You could be. The best can always keep a straight face," Alptraum counters. "Why isn't it Sunala is to die for?"
"That would be disrespectful," Sukara points out. "It is a given and needs not be stated."
"Okay. So, I can go now? Or is there even more after that?" Alptraum has to ask.
"That is all," Sukara assures him.
"I'll see you later, then," Alptraum says as he slips into the passage and heads down the latter, slowly. "I feel like this is an elaborate joke," he mutters to himself.
The passage is indeed a narrow one, and probably next to whatever ancient waste system the Temple possesses. But it has the advantage of being straight at least. And it ends in another ladder instead of a bottomless pit.
Alptraum follows the next latter, then, and will keep going until he reaches a place that has a whistle.
That ladder ends, and the whistle is there hanging from a hook in the wall. The opposite side from that is wood, not stone. But it feels like there's a curse on it as well for anyone that might try to force through it.
"She didn't mention that part," Alptraum remarks a bit dryly, before fetching the whistle. Then it's going through the sound sequence: three long, two short, two long, one short, then five long whistle blows. He pauses after this for a period longer than any of the long whistle blows, then repeats it.
It takes three cycles before the panel moves. There's no warning click or any other sound to herald it. An older Eeee woman is on the opposite side, holding a crossbow and looking expectantly at Alptraum.
Alptraum rubs his forehead. "Sukara is to die for," he says, trying to not sound sarcastic about it.
"Hmm," the woman grunts, and lowers the crossbow. "You're the first to use the it-isn't-me whistle code," she notes.
"There's more than one code?" Alptraum asks, "Why? Wouldn't it just be simpler to have a 'kill me now' code instead to give out?"
"There are several codes," the woman says, stepping back so Alptraum can come into the.. well, it's another toilet, but a little nicer than the one in the office.
"Alptraum steps out and closes the panel behind himself. "Scandalous, you have a man in the toilet with you," he remarks dryly.
"You are the Barsunala, and I am sixty-three years old," the woman notes. "So I do not think it matters. I am curious as to why Sukara sent you through the back end instead the main entry though?"
"To cause less of a stir, I imagine," Alptraum suggests. "And plus I am not generally liked at the Temple as it is."
"That is it? No other reason?" the matron asks suspiciously. "The High Priestess always has a reason. Why would she care about you not being liked? The Yodhsunala are not known for liking things after all."
"Maybe as a surprise to Sunala, as she suggested I bring her the tea," Alptraum adds and shrugs a little.
"That is better," the woman says, and then chides, "You shouldn't shrug, it is kin to slouching. Yodhsunala do not shrug or slouch. Did you bring any candy with you? Yodhsunala also do not bring candy, unfortunately."
"No, I did not bring any candy. I'm also male, and therefore not a Yodh, and as such the rules don't apply to me," Alptraum points out.
"The Temple has barsunala guards you know," then puts a finger to her lips. "The toilet is soundproofed, but be quiet if you do not wish to ruin the surprise." Then she gestures to follow as she opens the door to leave.
"But none like me," Alptraum points out and then goes quiet so as to not break the surprise. Though given Sunala might sense him anyway ... who knows?
The tea is already ready when they get to the small kitchen. The High Priestess does not live in luxury, and things are pretty ascetic - except for the tea service, which is made of gold-trimmed black ceramic, with the Grave symbol on everything, in the spoon handles. It must have been a gift. The retainer in the kitchen remains quiet when they arrive. She isn't old like the first one, and reminds Alptraum a bit of Reed in that she seems to be very lean an 'long'. Even lounging she looks very dangerous, as if her first glance, no matter how friendly, was searching you for vulnerable points.
Alptraum wiggles fingers and makes a kissy-face at the younger one on the way to the tea set. He collects it upon its tray and then looks questioningly to the older one again for an indication of which direction to go with it.
The younger one raises her eyebrows in confusion. She may have never seen such a display before! The older one gestures for him to follow again, and leads the way down a short hall. She knocks one on a sliding panel, and then slides it open for Alptraum. There's a small room beyond, with a few candles lit for the benefit of Daughter-of-Shadows. Both she and Srinala are sitting at a cafe-style table and wearing dresses instead of robes. The not-really-a-cheetah goes wide-eyed at Alptraum, and Srinala turns a moment later to smile blindly at him. "Alptraum!" she chirps.
Alptraum sashays his butt at the younger one as he leaves, and otherwise remains quiet. Once he's in the room, he starts to 'sneak' only to have it foiled as fast as he expected. "I simply cannot sneak up on or surprise you," he mock-complains as he carries over the tea set and carefully sets it down on a nearby table. "I was in the Temple dealing with some matters and thought I should come say hello as it has been a long time since I've been by. I'm sorry about that.
"Have you been terrorizing my Yodh?" Srinala asks, head tilted in a I'm-not-really-chiding-if-you-are sort of expression.
"Only a couple of them," Alptraum admits as he pours tea into two cups. "Any sugar for either of you?" he asks Daughter-Of-Shadows and Srinala. "I hope you are both reasonably well?"
"Pouncer is getting rickets," Srinala claims, causing the other girl to look exasperated. "And I want plenty of sugar if you are serving it, Alptraum. Nanny barely lets me have any."
"Just cream," Pouncer (aka Daughter-of-Shadows) says quietly.
"Rickets?" Alptraum has to ask of Pouncer, "Explain?" As for the requests, he goes about making them; just a bit of cream in Pouncer's tea. Srinala's tea gets more sugar; not enough that it's sugar with a side of tea, but probably not too far off. "Why don't you just order her to give you more? They have to listen to you after all."
"No, they have to listen to Sunala, who does not take sugar in her tea, preferring it bitter," Srinala claims.
"I just said that I miss fruit," Pouncer says in barely a whisper. "Not that I have a vitamin deficiency."
Alptraum sort of shakes his head at that. "Why don't you come shopping with me sometime, then?" he asks of Pouncer. "I'm sure we could get you some. And we could get you crickets, which are probably better than rickets."
"Mmmm, crickets," Srinala goes.
"Wouldn't I be recognized?" Pouncer asks. "I'd worry about leaving Srinala alone."
"Being recognized is easy enough to deal with, but the latter, that I understand. And Sukara would have kittens if I took both of you out," Alptraum admits.
"I will be fine for a day," Srinala claims. "I will not decide to start doing.. bad things. It was hard enough to sentence those... people... for what they did. Only Sunala can think about that and not be upset."
Alptraum probably breaks some rule when he sits down, then picks up and puts Srinala in his lap and holds her, while serving her tea. "It was easy for me because I saw firsthand what they had done. Their punishment was still kinder than what they did to some," he notes, quietly. "Sometimes, people really are beyond saving."
"I'm too grownup to be sitting in your lap," Srinala complains, but Pouncer just tries not to laugh at the situation. She hides this by holding up her tea cup even though she isn't drinking from it. "How have you been, Alptraum?" she asks from behind it.
"Mmmm, up and down in many ways. I've come closer to doing things I swore I'd never do; and become a bit less hopeful," Alptraum admits honestly. "But I manage on, somehow."
"But you're the symbol of hope for Babel," Srinala says. "Did you want some tea?"
"Who gives hope to hope, though?" Alptraum points out, "And I would, but there's a little girl in my lap and I'm going to comb her hair. Anyway, it's hard to feel hopeful when everyone around you is disappointing. Even Mave, whom I thought I was getting through to ... just nothing."
"People have to want to change, even if they don't know it," Pouncer says softly. "Srinala wanted to change, so Sunala did."
"Sunala broadened her perspective," Srinala counters to her friend.
Alptraum starts claw-combing out Srinala's hair for a bit. "When there are people you want to save and change, but refuse, that is incredibly hard. What good am I if I can't even help those who claim to be a friend?" he points out.
"Well, I don't know the situation," Pouncer says. "So I don't think I can comment on it. I tried to save someone once. I think it worked out."
"Very funny," Srinala says.
Alptraum starts braiding Srinala's hair. "I don't know if I've ever saved anyone. And I even almost killed a Yodhsunala here trying to undo a curse the Sabbaoth started and used the temples for," he admits.
"There a curse on the temple?" Pouncer asks, nearly spilling her tea. Srinala is better at keeping calm, and doesn't stop sipping.
"Not on, at. Fueled by. The prayer tree used for the acolytes actually fuel an old ritual spell that takes any soul of someone that displeased the Sabbaoth and binds them into a tree, and eats away at them as it erases all memories of them from the people that knew them. It's pretty horrible," he explains, quietly. "I was going to destroy the tree here, but the Yodhsunala wouldn't let me. Also insulted me, but that's another matter entirely. I was mad enough I came close to going on a murder rampage to wipe them all out."
Srinala is quiet, but it's Sunala that says, "Why would you do that to my Daughters? Did the curse drive you to anger? Tell me more of this curse and prayer tree."
"Because the curse also holds one of the spirits related to my own existence," Alptraum explains, "And I couldn't stand letting that continue, and for all the other people unjustly denied going to the sea to rot away, forgotten. And when I did try to speak with the one at the tree regarding it, she was dismissive, and called me by insulting names. Many of the Yodhsunala have either openly insulted me, or tried to harm me, to even try to kill me, even though I've protected them. It almost pushed me over the breaking point. But I didn't, she's fine, and the tree will no longer be prayed at for now, which means it at least won't have as much power fueling it until I can uncover more about it."
"The Sabaoth has been gone for a long time," Pouncer says (given her age, it really has been a long time for her). "I don't know how magic and curses work though. But it must be Spirit Magic right? Not a miracle if Sunala doesn't know about it."
"It's a very old spell, and is probably tied to some artifact and not directly to Sunala at all. It's just using the power of the Yodhsunala trainees a subtle source of power to it," Alptraum says, "Basically stealing power right under all the Goddess' watch."
"That can't be allowed," Sunala claims.
"I know and I'm working on the matter," Alptraum says. "It will be handled. I am just explaining what happened earlier."
"A magical object is the cause?" Pouncer asks. "Someone must know about it then. It's not like you can just bury them or something."
"Maybe. But I need more information and it's likely every Temple has one of these sinks, since it can affect the memories of the people within the city," Alptraum notes as he continues braiding. "And these are things you shouldn't have to worry about."
"I shouldn't have to worry about them because they shouldn't be," Sunala claims. "But I seem to be unaware of just my Daughters train themselves. I will consult with In-.. with Rephath. She still has active Daughters."
"I will handle this, please," Alptraum requests. "I need to."
"Mind that the Yodh can be prideful," Sunala advises, and then.. she's gone, and it's Srinala in his lap sipping overly sweetened tea.
Which means Sunala, for a short time, had pigtail braids. "I should go, I am ruining your time to have fun together," Alptraum says.
"You have to come back," Srinala says, turning to 'look' at Alptraum with her blind eyes. "I worry about you."
"Why? I am not a very happy or fun person to be around," Alptraum admits, "I don't want you to be unhappy or upset or hurt by me."
"Then don't make me worry and come visit more often," Srinala says.
"The Yodhsunala are all dour all the time," Pouncer notes. "They never smile."
"I'm not sure I smile all that much," Alptraum says, "But i can try to come more often."
"Come more often, and you'll be cheerier," Srinala promises. "Pouncer can dance for you and you'll laugh for an hour."
"Hey-y," the other girl complains.
"If she were older, I might flirt. I like spotcats, admittedly. But ... she's too young and that would just be weird," Alptraum claims.
"I'm an adult," Pouncer says defensively, as only a 15-to-16 year old can. "I came all the way to Babel by myself to find Srinala, and that was years ago."
"I'm twice your age," Alptraum points out. "And jaded and weird."
"You can still tell me I'm pretty," Pouncer says. "I won't mind."
"It would make me feel like the creepy uncle," Alptraum admits.
"When it comes to creepy relatives, I think I have you all beat," Pouncer claims instead. "But that's fine if you think I'm homely and have the wrong kind of feet.."
"It's nothing like that at all," Alptraum says and shakes his head with a sigh. "I want to keep you away from your creepy relatives and I don't want to hurt you in any way."
"I'm just messing with you," Pouncer admits and grins. "Nobody here has a sense of humor."
"Good, I won't torment you with my spottycat disguise, then," Alptraum counters and sticks out his tongue.
Pouncer seems shocked when Alptraum dares to show his tongue to her. Since she can't match an Eeee in that sense, she has to reply by sticking out her shorter tongue, crossing her eyes and waggling her ears.
Alptraum counters with an impressive display of Eeee ear semaphore, then rolls his eyes. "Anyway, I am sorry for the troubles I seem to cause here," he says.
"You don't cause trouble," Srinala insists. Pouncer also pouts, saying, "I thought your tongue would be silver."
"The Yodhsunala seem to think I cause trouble," Alptraum notes. As for the other comment, that just gets an odd look and him saying, "Why would my tongue me silver?"
"I just assumed, with all the poetic 'death is seductive and silver-tongued' notions.. that I must have overheard at some point," Pouncer claims.
"The Yodhsunala think anyone who isn't dead causes trouble," Srinala insists with a sigh. "They really don't care much for dealing with living people."
"And yet you lead them," Alptraum points out. To Pouncer he has to ask, "You consider me seductive?"
"Goddesses don't lead," Srinala claims. "People do what they ask to appease them."
"I dunno, can you be?" Pouncer asks, almost in challenge. "I mean, you're kind of old."
"Says the one who got them to leave the Yodhrinala alone," Alptraum points out. "That was leading."
Alptraum arches his brow. "I can, but you're far too young to understand or appreciate it," he remarks dryly.
"That was expanding Sunala's dominion," Srinala claims. "They don't expect me to guide them. I have to tell them to do something, they won't come and ask or offer to do something."
"I'm very mature for my age," Pouncer insists, sitting up straighter. "What was that earlier about tormenting me with a 'spotty-cat' disguise anyway?"
"I can change form, and I have a savanite form, is all," Alptraum comments and shrugs, "And anyone who says they're mature for their age tend to not be..."
"Are you mature for your age?" Pouncer asks. "What else can you change into then?"
"No, I'm weird for my age," Alptraum remarks, "And lots of things. Anyway..." He rubs his neck and asks Srinala, "Are you happy?
Now it's Srinala's turn to almost shrug, but she stops herself. "In times like these, yes, I'm pretty happy. When I'm Sunala I don't really feel things like that. I feel proud, and.. angry sometimes. Like any little challenge to me is something that needs to be squashed. Time doesn't seem to mean anything either."
"Do you know what is going to happen to Mave?" Alptraum asks.
"She's a Yodhinala," Srinala says. "But I think it's Rinala that has a claim on her. Because I'm also partly Rinala. But I can't tell fates."
"Do you mean that, or are you trying to spare me?" Alptraum asks.
"I don't know the future, not even Barada does," Srinala admits. "I just know there's something special about her."
"It's.. I think it's a Nala thing," Srinala concludes. "Not really Rinala."
"Likely. It all ties together after all," Alptraum agrees. "But I was told to talk to you, so I did."
"Well.. did you have a special request of Sunala about Mave?" Srinala asks.
"Who is Mave?" Pouncer mutters.
"It's hard to make a request without knowing what is going to happen," Alptraum points out, "And I don't want to make requests of you if I can avoid it. I don't want to feel like I'm using you." To Pouncer, Alptraum explains simply, "A old whore that once tried to kill me, and now pretends to work for me."
Pouncer covers her mouth with her hands and her eyes go wide. Apparently some words actually do shock her.
Alptraum does have to wonder which words shocked her, though.
"You shouldn't call people that," Pouncer finally admonishes Alptraum.
"What? Old?" Alptraum asks.
The mature-for-her-age girl shakes her head vigorously. "The one after that!"
"Whore? She calls herself that," Alptraum points out. "Yodhinala; that is basically what they were."
"They're priestesses," Pouncer says. "You wouldn't call a Yodhsunala an.. uh.. undertaker!"
"Actually, I might," Alptraum admits.
"Just because the Yodh are horrible doesn't mean you should call them out on it," Pouncer claims. This causes Srinala to snort.
"Why not?" Alptraum asks, "They insult me all the time. Fair's fair."
"Do they insult you in front of the laity though?" Pouncer asks. "It's just that people look up to you, and if they hear you use words like that, it could shake them up. Especially if they try to use them in the wrong company. I didn't think anything much of Babelite religion, you know. It wasn't my religion. I tried to bring Srinala to it before.. before Sunala showed up. It's.." She throws her hands up and makes chaotic gestures.
"She tries very hard to be respectful," Srinala explains. "I think it frustrates her greatly."
"I say it in front of you as you are my friends and family before anything else. I don't try to hide anything here," Alptraum explains, "However, outside I am not the one who starts the insults; they do that well enough on their own without me doing anything at all. In any event, I am aware of my audience." To Sunala he notes, "I've tried to be respectful too, and that's usually when they start in on insulting me. I only have so much patience for it."
"Who is insulting you? Is it the old guard or the lower ranks?" Srinala asks, with a touch of Sunala to her tone.
"Mostly the old guard," Alptraum notes. "My point is, I am part of this religion too, they may not like me, but they shouldn't insult me to my face. Or at least if they do, they shouldn't be surprised if there is a response from me for it. Generally if people are nice to me, or at least cordial I am the same, and usually kinder. But, my patience has worn a bit thin on the insults and opinion that I should just suck it up and bear it. Why should I? I'm the one out there risking my life, limb, and sanity for them."
"Anyway, I didn't come here to debate on this or whine about it. It's more just one of the reasons I don't come to the Temple very often, even though I'm supposed to belong here," Alptraum adds.
"Those sort are very stuck on protocol and appearance," Srinala notes, with a bit of exasperation. "Ask Sukara to give you some proper vestments. A lot of the old Yodh have never left the temple, and all they seem to know is that the Yodh are not feared and respected as they used to be. They don't seem to accept there are new forms of respect. They probably see you and think you are purposely trying to provoke them just because of how you dress. It is something that I've had to deal with, and they allow even less leeway with me."
"I actually have better relationships with the Yodhrepath, the Yodhblakat, Yodhbarada, and so on than I do here," Alptraum tries to explain. "Then to rub salt into the wound, after the insult me to the point I actually do something; suddenly I'm not the kind Barsunala they heard so much about. There's kind, and there's 'doormat'. I'm tired of being the latter. Dealing with the General and Amenlichli is likely to end in my obliteration; I don't see any of them volunteering for that duty."
"Or being tortured horribly while in disguise to ferret out violators. The people that you condemned to hell did really horrible things to me, over a very long time," Alptraum adds and runs his hands through his hair. "I have sacrificed a lot for all of Babel, and this temple. I'm not asking for a statue, or people praying at my feet. I just want people to stop sneering, or making backhanded comments about me every single time I visit here."
"Being old is not an excuse for being unpleasant to someone," Alptraum ends with.
"I'll put out a proclamation that you are to be treated with proper respect," Srinala says. "It may lead to the old guard just avoiding you altogether unless they have to. I just need to find something in the Lore to make it clear. They're all about the Lore, you know. They expect me to follow it, but it's so convoluted I can probably find something in it to justify anything at all. They don't actually know about what you do. Most of that is all secret."
Alptraum waves his hand. "I don't want to make anything here worse or harder for you. So, you don't need to do that," he says. "I'm just explaining myself and how I feel. And also trying to get Pouncer to understand why I say what I do sometimes."
"I was just shocked you'd describe someone like that," Pouncer says, slouching a bit. "I have no idea what Babel is really like beyond the Yodhsunala."
"She describes herself like that, and rejected any of my attempts to help her," ALptraum says. "I've sort of given up."
"Most of them seem to think Daughter-of-Shadows is my slave.. or pet," Srinala claims. "And that I just indulge her for some sort of personal amusement. Because that sort of thing is in the Lore."
"That's silly. She would be a lousy pet," Alptraum remarks. "And probably a worse slave..."
"You can't force someone to accept help.. or realize they need help," Pouncer says, and looks to Srinala. "I've tried, but sometimes I just have to hope for small compromises that build up over time."
"Now I'm imagining you in a gallesian maid outfit, or an Abu Dhabian harem girl outfit," Alptraum admits to Pouncer. "Harem girl would be rather cute, really."
"What's a harem girl?" Pouncer asks.. and reaches up to pat her hair.
"A scantily clad girl in silks and jewelry that's part of a gorup of similarly dressed girls, that tend to a man ... or some cases, another woman, in all ways," Alptraum explains.
Pouncer sticks her tongue out in a feline expression of 'no thanks'. "I don't think I have the body for something like that, and I'm terrible with chores. People would think I'm a mutant Savanite."
"How do you know you don't have a body for that?" Alptraum points out. "You live here."
"Did you just insult my body?" Srinala asks. Although she's always on the verge of emaciation.
"Not at all," Alptraum says, "I'm just saying that the libido of anyone at this temple is quite dead. So no way to judge," Alptraum explains.
"I didn't get proper nutrition as a child," Pouncer claims. "Wait.. what do you mean libido? Harem girls are a.. sex thing?" She actually whispers the last part.
"Quite often, yes," Alptraum says. "I've been part of a harem before. It's odd, but it can be amusing."
"Is there anything else I could be dressed up as?" Pouncer asks. "What is there even to do out in Babel that isn't horrifying?"
"I could change you," Alptraum jokes, "Maybe a naga..."
"With magic?" Pouncer asks, eyes wide.
"Well, it's less gruesome than shaving you," Alptraum quips.
"Would she still have spots?" Srinala asks, finding amusement in it.
"Some naga do," Alptraum notes.
"I don't know, I'm uncomfortable enough in my own skin," Pouncer says. "How would I get out of here as a Naga? I mean, if you were going to make me look inconspicuous, wouldn't an Eeee be better?"
"Yes, but that is terribly boring," Alptraum claims, then hugs Pouncer. "Don't ever change, eh? You're adorably innocent."
"Ahhh! What does that mean? Will Babelites want to eat me?" Pouncer squeaks.. and flails a bit.
"No, they'll want to steal you and keep you as a pet," Alptraum claims. "Or eat you ... in nice ways."
"There is no nice way to eat someone," Pouncer says and shudders. "Trust me."
"If you were older, I would show you," Alptraum notes.
"I'm not that mature," Pouncer admits. "I mean.. I haven't held hands yet."
"Aha! So you did know what I meant," Alptraum declares.
Pouncer immediately covers her face with her hands. "No! I just assumed it was a sex thing when you talked about me being older!" she insists.
"Is she always like this?" Alptraum asks of Srinala.
"I don't think the Yodhsunala would know," Srinala claims.
"Anyway, I am sorry for upsetting both of you. I should not drop my burdens upon you," Alptraum says as he stands up. "And I should be going."
"When will you come back?" Srinala asks. "We could plan something with more notice."
"I don't know," Alptraum admits. "Do you really want me to visit again? I don't think Pouncer does."
"What? I like having you visit," Pouncer says. "Nobody else visits with us!"
Alptraum leans over to Pouncer ... and promptly licks her nose. "Maybe I'll show you my ... spottyform sometime," he teases.
"Is it a harem spotty?" Pouncer asks, and licks her nose reflexively.
"Sometimes," Alptraum admits.
"That should be educational then," Pouncer claims, and smiles.
"In what way?" Alptraum has to ask. "Are you going fox sex now?"
"Sex? No, you said harem people do chores and stuff," Pouncer claims innocently. "And probably dance and sing and tell stories and play games then. Or cook. Maybe bake. Can you bake things?"
"I'm a vampire," Alptraum points out. "Why would I have learned to cook?"
"I just want a cookie," Pouncer says. "Even those terrible Temple Scout ones I used to sell. Or cake. Or bread. Everything is bugs. And sometimes ham, oddly enough."
"I could be a hog," Alptraum suggests and then ruffles her head. "I'll try to get you some cookies."
"And candied crickets," Srinala requests.
"Sukara already suggested that, Alptraum comments. "I will."
"And ask her for vestments, remember," Srinala prompts.
"So long as it isn't a thong," Alptraum says.
"The Yodh don't have underwear, I think," Srinala notes. "I can't see everything with these eyes. Just the important things."
"I ... am not going to comment on that," Alptraum admits, right before he picks Srinala up completely and hugs her, including burying his face in her neck a little.
And she hugs right back, even flapping the strips of her wing vanes a bit. "You have to take care of yourself, I don't want to meet you next in the Sea."
"Unless it's just a visit. I'll try to not get hurt," Alptraum claims as he sets Srinala back down, then kisses her forehead. "They may pledge fealty to you, I actually do love you," he murmurs her and rises.
"I'm not the most lovable of goddesses," Srinala admits. "Even if I am one of the cutest."
"Wait, do I get a kiss on the forehead too?" Pouncer asks.
"You are very lovable," Alptraum notes and taps Srinala's nose. Alptraum's reply to Pouncer is to lean in, and lick her from the tip of her nose up to between her ears.
"Hey, you don't have the right tongue for that," Pouncer points out, but doesn't complains. Kittens get groomed that way after all.
Alptraum smirks, and kisses her right on the lips instead.
"Hey, only my little sister does that," Pouncer points out, but does smirk. "The kiss of death?"
"Do you feel dead?" Alptraum asks.
"No more than usual," Pouncer claims. "But if I were dead, would I be able to tell?"
"Yes," Alptraum says. "Now behave yourself. No dirty spottycat thoughts. I have to go."
"I don't read those Lore stories," Pouncer promises.
Alptraum arches his eyebrow. "Do I have to search your books?" he asks.
"They're Babelite books," Srinala notes. "If she's going to be here she may as well learn how to read. All we have are books of Sunala Lore of course."
"I'mm bring some books on Sylvania Ghost Stories and other such stuff next time too, then," Alptraum says as he heads back towards the secret panel.
Sukara hadn't told him about any signals for the other end of the passage.. but the door to the privy in Sukara's office actually has a latch on Alptraum's side of the door. But no way to know if someone is on the other side using the toilet.
Alptraum is smart enough to knock first.
There's no answer, so probably not anyone there.
"Toilet demon," Alptraum calls through the door, just to be sure.
The door seems to be made of thistlebark, or else has some sort of warding on it that prevents direct detection of anyone on the other side. Sukara is probably paranoid. But nobody answers to the announcement either.
So, Alptraum tries to open it now. Hey, he gave two warnings. Any half-naked women only have themselves to blame.
The stall is empty.
Out Alptraum goes and then back into the office area. "I'm back," he calls out, "Sunala says I need vestments so that the older Yodh quit insulting me."
"Did she say what kind?" the voice of the High Priestess asks from across the maze of bookshelves.
"No, just that I need to look more official so the older ones don't see me as poking fun at them or the like," Alptraum says as he tries to find Sukara now.
"Ah, I hadn't thought of that, but it will help to go along with the new rules," Sukara says. "Wait here while I get Yodhsunala Zaffrella."
"Unusual name," Alptraum notes. "I promise I won't reorder your books while you are gone."
It's a long enough wait for Alptraum to get bored of reading book spines, but eventually Sukara returns with an ancient Eeee. Zaffrella might be Gerezad's grandmother. She's hunched over, her wings look withered and her ears droop. She's also blind, and it isn't clear if the droop is actually just from the weight of her robes. "Mmmm...mmmm," she goes with each movement.
"I've met mountains younger than her," Alptraum quietly comments, one brow arched. Why are they all so old?
"Sister Zaffrella is out historian," Sukara explains. "She keeps the Lore of the Yodhsunala themselves. Our funerary rites, dress, and so on. Especially ceremonies.."
"Huh?" the crone rasps when Alptraum makes his quiet comment, and laboriously holds a horn to ear. "Wuzza?"
"She's old enough to be a ceremony," Alptraum has to admit. "I do not know if I have ever met an Eeee this old before."
"THIS IS THE BARSUNALA, ZAFFY," Sukara speaks firmly into the horn. "HE NEEDS VESTMENTS. DO WE HAVE ANYTHING FROM OLD CEREMONIES RELATED TO THE BARSUNALA?"
Alptraum thinks the Yodhsunala are doing this to torment him. Even Sukara has it in for him.
"Ooooo," Zaffrella coos, and bobs her head a bit. Then she holds her other spindly hand up, fingers spread and sort of.. feels around the general direction of Alptraum's face. "Has he got the silver?" she croaks.
"YES, HIS EYES ARE SILVER," Sukara confirms.
Alptraum leans in so she can touch, but hopefully not poke him in the eyes.
She eventually finds his nose, and makes it as far as patting his cheek. "And the mark? On his chest?" the old woman asks next. To that Sukara just looks to Alptraum. "Do you have a mark on your chest?"
"I have a scar on my chest from an injury that healed, but that shouldn't relate," Alptraum claims and even pulls his shirt down at the collar to demonstrate.
"YES ZAFFY, HE HAS A WHITE SCAR ON HIS CHEST," Sukara relates, and Zaffrella pulls her hand back and seems to suck on her fingers in... excitement. They come back out surprisingly dry. She reaches out again, and says, "The hand. The soul gripping hand..." She makes disturbing 'let me touch it' gestures with her fingers.
"Now you're just messing with me," Alptraum remarks and gives Sukara a really strange look. He does hold out his right hand, but really feels like he's being pranked horribly right now.
Zaffrella touches it.. and then (to Alptraum) she's a young, beautiful woman in ceremonial robes, with soft blue eyes. And he's holding her hand, which has a silver chain wrapped around it than joins up to an elaborate obsidian and silver-filigreed gauntlet on his right forearm. It only lasts for a moment though.
This just leaves Alptraum blinking. Man, if he and Hexen had such pranks back when they were younger, it could have been entertaining! Who is this woman?
The crone coos again and bobs her head, more like a bird than an Eeee. "Oh yes.. Yes.. The Ritual of the Barsunala creating a Srinala, so clear in my mind. Store-room seventeen, twelve row, shelf five, the black-ironwood box."
"I'll summon an acolyte to fetch it," Sukara says, and then leaves Alptraum with the rickety old woman.
Alptraum has to wonder since when did a Srinala get created? That sounds rather creepy and wrong. But so is the old woman. "Who are you, exactly?" Alptraum has to ask, loudly. "You appeared like a young woman a minute ago."
"You remember me? From then?" Zaffrella asks. "I was young. Mebbe.. uh.. a hundred years? Seems like it. Ninety-ish. Last time we summoned you."
"I saw you; you had blue eyes. You summoned me? Why?" Alptraum has to ask.
"There must always be a Srinala," Zaffrella claims. "If one can no longer be maintained, and another is not found, the Barsunala is summoned. He is made an offering, and in return a girl that would merely be stillborn will become a Srinala. I was the offering, last time."
"The offering?" Alptraum has to ask. "What sort of offering? To bed for the child?"
"Yes," Zaffrella says, smiling toothlessly. "And then you would leave the chosen barsunala, and soon a Srinala would be born. Not to me, but.. somewhere... and she would be brought here."
"I would not think you would forget me," the old woman says coyly.
Alptraum ahhhhs. "It's been a while and I am always busy," he claims. "Many pass in a year, much less a century."
"But I've been alive so long," Zaffrella says. "This is your gift, is it not?"
The door opens and Sukara appears, carrying a heavy looking box (for all that it isn't that big, but ironwood is dense). "I should have had her carry it in, privacy be damned," she mutters as she sets it on her desk.
Alptraum isn't sure what to say here, but he decides to be tactful and say, "Yes." As for Sukara, he comments, "That does look really heavy. I'm impressed."
"Impressed by the carrying capacity of older women?" Sukara asks. "By that measure, Zaffy could move this mountain."
The ancient woman sniffs the air, and turns towards the box. "That is the one," she declares, pointing not quite at it. Then she makes a 'shooing' motion to Sukara, who purses her lips but apparently is willing to indulge someone over twice her age. Maybe three times.
"You're not old," Alptraum tells Sukara. "And you want to be impressed, watch a woman carry and bear triplets; that is impressive strength."
"We don't delivery babies here," Sukara notes.
"No, but it does not negate my point," Alptraum notes.
Zaffrella returns her hearing horn to the hook on her belt, and runs her fingers shakily across the box before opening it. Inside are folded clothes, the topmost piece appearing to be silver zolk. "Ah, baldric on top, yes," the old woman mutters. "I remember folding it." She lifts that out, then asks Sukara, "Hold this please, High Priestess." And so Sukara does as the crone dips back into the box.
Alptraum glances at Sukara and whispers, "This is really strange. Even odder is I've seen her when she was younger; she had blue eyes."
The next garment is black, and isn't obvious as to what it's for. Once unfolded, Zaffy holds it up and it looks a bit like a gypsy blouse - or somewhat in that vein. The sleeves are loose, the chest is mostly exposed and it has a billowy quality to it. Instead of laces across the front, it has fine silver chains.
It doesn't look at all like something a Yodh would wear. It's not even a robe!
Alptraum is back to thinking that the Yodh are pranking him. A gypsy shirt? Really? His ears splay.
"Put it on, you should be big enough," Zaffy says, shaking the garment vaguely towards Alptraum. Sukara is also giving it an odd look. "HOW OLD IS THIS CEREMONY AGAIN?" she practically shouts into Zaffrella's ear. "Older than time!" she rasps back.
Alptraum looks at Sukara. "I feel like I'm being pranked," he admits to her and sighs. But, he does remove the current shirt he's wearing and puts the other one on instead. At least the chains don't snag and pull anything as he wrestles it on.
It feels disturbingly familiar. The next thing to come out of the box are a pair of pants. Aside from being the same black material, they don't see out of the ordinary except for the Grave symbol stitched in silver on either hip. "Good as the day they were made," Zaffrella claims.
Sukara turns around to give Alptraum privacy, assuming he'll change into them.
Alptraum accepts it and gives Sukara another look. "And I thought there was no humor here," he says. He stops himself from shrugging, then drops his current pants and switches to those then!
These also fit nicely. When Sukara turns back around, Zaffrella takes the baldric from her and holds it out so that it unfolds. It looks like a Y that spreads out at the tops to form shoulders, and then extends down into a sort of loincloth. It's all silver, except for black embroidery. There's a different symbol over the left breast though: the Spirit.
"Well, it has style," Alptraum has to admit to Sukara. "But not a style I would have expected from here; nor the symbol," he admits. "Isn't this a mage symbol?"
"How should I know? It's the symbol of the Barsunala," Zaffrella claims. It's a Babelite symbol, at least. She's already getting the next bit out of the box. It's a silver cord. "This goes 'round the waist, to cinch everything together."
Alptraum takes it and cinches it; rope belts are common in Sylvania after all, and tying it in a decorative sort of knot is pretty easy for him; it looks like braided chain when he's done.
There's one last thing in the box. It looks like a net festooned with glass and silver. "Hold it out, the soul grabbing hand," Zaffrella beckons.
Alptraum holds out his right hand, and hopes there is no iron in that anywhere! That would be bad, and painful.
The metal is actual silver, apparently. It takes some time to fit all over the odd chitiny form of his hand and forearm, but eventually it all just seems to fit into place. The silver accents bring out the shape, which can be hard to see in dim light after all, while the obsidian pieces make it shinier. "There.." Zaffrella coos.
Alptraum wiggles his fingers experimentally. "I feel ... weird," he admits to Sukara, ears still splayed out. "This is really all lore accurate?"
"Well, insofar as we create the Lore," Sukara admits. "But it was officially part of an actual ceremony."
"You don't look like a Yodh, but.. you don't look.. casual.. either," Sukara adds.
"Robes are for priests and priestesses, to make them all the same before their gods," Zaffrella claims. "Gods won't dress like that!"
"Truth be told, I keep expecting someone to come out and declare it all a prank and laugh at me," Alptraum admits, ears still sort of splayed out. "I wore clothing like this back in Sylvania. Not this fancy, but certainly in this sort of style. Do you understand at all what I mean? I don't mean any disrespect at all, but it's just very odd for a ceremony here."
"They're the clothes the Barsunala wears," Zaffrella insists. "Of course you'd wear them somewhere else, because you're the Barsunala."
Alptraum looks at Sukara ... sort of heplessly.
"It makes as much sense as anything else," Sukara claims. "You just don't recall all of the Barsunala memories. Or it's all just a coincidence."
Alptraum holds up his hands. "All right. I'll just ... go with that," he admits, giving in to the weirdness.
"It could probably use a cloak or something more.." Sukara says, and rolls a hand as she tries to come with the proper term. "Imposing," she decides.
Alptraum considers that a bit, then nods. "I could see that," he admits. "I appreciate this; but am I allowed to keep this and take it off temple grounds?" he asks.
"If you're going to wear it when you visit, you'll need to take it with you," Sukara reasons.
"You should wear it always," Zeffrella claims. "Except when it is inconvenient."
"I don't want to damage it. It's an artifact in itself given how old it is," Alptraum points out. "Anyway ... thank you?" he offers a bit hesitantly. "I have taken far too much of your time as it is and should leave you to your duties."
"I am glad to have met you again," Zaffrella says. "It reminded me of my youth."
"Do you want the box?" Sukara asks Alptraum. "You can put your old clothes in it for now."
"Sure, thank you," Alptraum agrees, not wanting to look weak in front of Sukara. She carried it after all. So, he collects his clothes, folds them roughly and fast, then drops them into the box.
"If anyone asks about the box when you leave, tell them it's full of damned souls," Sukara advises, sounding serious.
"Better than a bag of faces," Alptraum counters. He closes up the box and hefts it up to leave.
"I'll make sure Zaffrella gets back to her room safely," Sukara says, lest the old crone demand that Alptraum escort her himself. "Good luck with the other temples, Barsunala."
"Thank you, High Priestess," Alptraum intones a bit seriously. Then he's out the door before the old woman can grab his butt. He needs all the help he can get. Always more to do. Oof.