Mages' Guild Hall of Babel
A pale reflection of the splendour of the old Guild Hall or the relocated College on Caroban, this tower is nonetheless an ancient, weathered and well-kept monument to the long-lasting traditions of magic on Sinai. It is far from symmetrical, having countless smaller towers, balconies and bridges sprouting out here and there, but here and there, there are attempts at order, as things are often arranged in groups of four, with repeated motifs of the traditional four elements: fire, water, earth and sky. In an attempt at union of the four, the typical room has wide open windows, hanging burning braziers, burbling fountains, and intricate and time-worn stone-work, often depicting fanciful and actual creatures associated with each element, arranged in sets of four.

The guards standing at the main landing entry a mixed pair. The first is a lightly armored Eeee, while the second is a more heavily armored young Fnerf, who is either new or nervous, as he starts to call out, "Who goes" before the other one cuts him off abruptly with, "Hush, that's the Barsunala. Just open the door for him."

And in a flash, Alptraum is right up next to the Fnerf. He leans in and whispers, "Yes, yes, you should always welcome Death into your home, don't you know?" And punctuates it by licking the Fnerf's ear.

This causes the young foxtaur to drop his halberd and yelp. The other guard sighs, and asks, "Please don't do that, sir. If he jumped over the edge in panic the paperwork would weigh more than I do."

And then the senior guard knocks on the door in an off-cadence series and the door unlatches and is opened quickly from the other side. "I'll have to teach the special knock you know," he tells Alptraum.

"I'm a perfectly harmless guest. I don't know why people seem to think I'm so scary," Alptraum laments at the Fnerf's reaction. He boops the new guard's nose and then looks at the other guard. "There's a special knock? It doesn't involve knocking boots, does it?"

The one opening the door is a Cervani doe dressed in Sphere of Earth robes, with a Journeyman's rank cord over her shoulder. She seems a bit out of breath from the effort. "No, just a knock to let them know it's you, sir," the Eeee guard notes.

Alptraum rolls his eyes. "I don't come here that often," he notes and pats the Cervani's shoulder.

"So," the doe asks, after she's caught her breath, "when you touch someone do you know when they're going to die?" She doesn't seem particularly upset by the idea, or else she's still worn out from pulling the door open. "Sorry if that's a dumb question, but I'm new here," she apologizes.

"No, not really. Not unless I try, and I'd rather not know. Saves on awkward questions, like that one," Alptraum notes and now boops her nose. "How is it you knew me? Have we met here before?"

"No, we haven't met," the doe notes. "But I've met the memory-scrambled patient, and learned of your involvement. Not a lot about it, just that 'It was such a serious condition that the Son of Death had to be there to make sure nobody died during the procedure' sort of explanation. And that just raised so many other questions."

"Did it? Like what? Now I'm curious what's said about me," Alptraum comments and puts a hand on his hip. He's grinning, too.

"Oh, I'm supposed to take you somewhere, aren't I?" the doe then realizes. "Do you know where? But the other stuff was just how you aren't like the Kindly Ones and you have really nice hair and a romantic accent. Like... well I don't know how to describe your accent actually. Nobody really described it to me beyond 'romantic' or 'dark' which honestly aren't very useful, you know? So I had entirely the wrong idea about what you sounded like! For some reason I imagined a sort of raspy lisp, which.. I'm not sure is something that can exist. Nobody said your voice would be deep. For an Eeee, I mean. But the Eeee around here aren't as chatty about you. I guess because of religion?"

"No idea on that, I have to admit. Maybe I creep them out," Alptraum says with a small shrug of his shoulders. "I need to speak to both Rostre and Cyprian, actually. Whichever is currently available is a goodplace to start." There's this sort of pregnant pause, then he has to ask, "How is a lisp romantic?"

"I've never heard a lisp," the doe admits. "I thought it had a lot of rolling consonants or something." She then looks thoughtful for a moment, and says, "I'll take you to Mage Cyprian then because I know where his office is. I'm Summer Forrest, by the way," she says, pronouncing it 'for-REST'. She also holds out her hand. "And before you make fun of my name know that I have friends named Autumn Breeze and Spring Meadow, and only one of those wasn't their birth name."

"Do you have a sister named Spring Harvest?" Alptraum has to ask and takes hold of her hand even if it wasn't what she intended. "My name means Nightmare, so who am I to make fun of someone's name?"

"Spring Forrest is my older sister," Summer claims, and sort of shakes her hand in Alptraum's. "Nightmare is a pretty cool name though. I can think of at least five guys I went to school with wishing for a name like that. I've heard odder names." Then she starts heading toward Cyprian's office, whether Alptraum releases her hand or not.

Alptraum doesn't, perhaps to make things just a little more awkward. "I'm impressed," he admits, "Most people are nervous around me. You don't seem to care at all."

It does slow her down a bit, but she doesn't seem to mind. "I've had some very strange friends," she notes. "But I guess I don't have a reason to be nervous around you? I mean, this is Babel, so honestly I'm probably nervous around everyone, especially since one of my friends made a big mess and I can't mention her while I'm here, but I compensate by being very friendly and chatty."

"Who was that?" Alptraum has to ask, even though he doesn't expect much of an answer.

"It wassss.... someone I'm not supposed to mention," Summer says, turning to wag a finger at Alptraum. This also causes her to lead him right past the door to Cyprian's office, which causes her to pause a few steps later and look lost.

"If you can't tell someone near the grave, who can you tell?" Alptraum points out, grinning. "I could just pick your brain apart ..."

"Not until the second date," Summer claims, then spots the door behind them. That makes her blush. "Ah, it's back this way. Oh.. but first.." She then takes Alptraum's left hand (which involves facing him and crossing her arms) and holds it for a bit while closing her eyes."

"What are you doing?" Alptraum has to ask as his hands are shuffled about. He doesn't stop it or otherwise try to prevent it. He's genuinely curious what she's doing.

Whatever it is, it isn't magic. A moment later she opens her eyes and explains, "I don't have a lot of sensitivity in my fingers, so it takes time for me to feel temperatures. And your right hand is definitely colder than your left hand. Wait.." She checks how her arms are crossed, and goes on. "Yes.. right to right, left to left. Your right hand is cooler than mine, but your left hand is warmer. Nobody every mentioned that about you. Eeee don't have particularly furry palms, so the lack of fur on what shouldn't make that big of a difference."

"Have you looked at my right hand?" Alptraum has to ask, brow arching. "And yes, I'm aware it's cooler than my left; has been for a while. Is that important to you for some reason...?"

"It just stood out, once I noticed it," Summer claims. "I was told about your hand, but I once accidentally grew.. uh.. a tree.. on my forearm so I figured it wasn't that different."

"Why did you grow a tree on your arm?" Alptraum has to ask? "Have you got a ... thing for dryads? Like things a little wooden?"

"I forgot to wash my hands thoroughly before performing a rooting spell with some seeds," Summer admits, without sounding even a bit embarrassed about it. Which means it may be a common hazard in her line of magic, somehow. "So.. do I need to announce you? I haven't spoken to Mage Cyprian since I first arrived, so I don't know if remembers me. Oh.. he's a Mind Mage. Of course he'll remember!" She lets go of Alptraum left hand so she knock on the office door.

"He knows me, and probably regrets it," Alptraum says and nods. While she knocks, though ... he can't resist and starts to mess with the cervani's ears ... by playing with their tips!

The flip around as a result, and she turns to give him an actually surprised look. "Nobody ever does that! It's always the tail! But you're actually tall enough.."

The door opens, and Cyprian notes, "You're not the usual one," to Summer. He then gives Alptraum a nod, and says, "Please come in, Barsunala."

"Really? Ears. Eeee are ears, it's a thing with us. No other Eeee have tried that?" Alptraum has to ask, sounding a little surprised by that. At the other Eeee's arrival, he does let go of her hand finally and nods to Cyprian, saying, "As you like."

"So ears are like butts to Eeee?" Summer ponders, before Cyprian closes the door behind Alptraum. "She is a chatty one, I hope you weren't bothered by her," the Eeee says. "Have you come about Adalric? We've tried to make inquiries with the Temple of Rephath about the other Cervani they have, in case it turns out to be his father."

"She's fine, and nice. I didn't mind the chatting at all," Alptraum notes as he moves a little further into the room and sits down into one of the chairs. "I'm actually here for a completely different reason. And yes, that means yet another problem. This one has to do with a centuries-old ritual on the entire city, set up by the Sabbaoth. One he used to punish women by erasing their memories." He pauses there for a moment, then goes into a lot more detail, explaining the creepy trees, the memories being eaten away, and even to how they're powered by anchors in the Temples.

Cyprian has his head forward, the fingers of his right hand seeming to prop it up by the end. "And just how many other surprises did he leave behind," he sighs. Then he sits up straight again, and says, "There shouldn't be Mind Magic that can do that. But I also don't know what sort of magic is being pumped into it to keep it going. We've seen that powerful rituals can be maintained through sacrifice, but the Temples aren't doing that.. anymore. There was a time they would accept living sacrifices though. They each had something they got out of it. We need to know what sort of energy is involved if we're going to try and trace it."

"Well, I know how it feels, though that's not terribly helpful," Alptraum admits and sighs, "And it probably involves spirit magic some ... but how could the memory removal not involve mind magic?"

"It's not exactly memory magic from the sound of it," Cyprian says, and taps the fingers of his right hand on the top of his desk. "There's no way to isolate all of the people who knew someone. This involves people who care or have a strong bond with the person. So that could be Spirit Magic, if you subscribe to some of the more esoteric interpretations of it. And since actual spirits are involved, I'd think it needs at least some sort of spirit component."

"I'm also surprised your guild hasn't felt this before. It must be very low-level to have not been felt by someone," Alptraum remarks. His eyes close and he rubs just above them as if he has a headache. "One would think that at this point why bother undoing an old spell set by a dead man, though, right? It's not like he can add anyone new. But, it's something I have to do, as it's personal to me."

"It could be part of a larger ritual with farther reaching effects," Cyprian notes. "These are not the sort of thing one lets lie and hopes they just go away. There are few reasons for it to go unnoticed though. The simplest is proximity. If it is buried, for instance. A Mage needs to be attuned to a region to sense such things, and usually only within their specialization. If it was Earth Magic, for instance, it would be impossible to locate since almost every building in Babel has Earth enchantments saturating them. Which brings up another possibility, that it is masked by the presence of stronger magics."

"The other issue is that the Sea of Souls isn't exactly a location," Cyprian notes, and rubs at his chin in thought.

"Well, it uses trees as their focus," Alptraum points out. "Each one takes on aspects of the Temples they are planted in. And yes, it doesn't have a specific location. It is fluid. Pun intended."

"There will be more than trees," Cyprian claims. "I'm certain of it. I'll need to examine a Temple though, which is.. problematical, of course."

"Is it?" Alptraum asks and steeples his fingers. "It's not like you know anyone that has both authority, and mostly unfettered access to most of the temples. Where would you ever find someone like that?"

"And they would just let you bring along a bunch of Mages who want to inspect their altars and such?" Cyprian asks. "We should focus on the ruined ones. Inala, Zakaro, Barada. I don't know if the Yodhblakat would care, but finding Mages willing to go there would be difficult."

Alptraum rolls his eyes. "I could manage any of them, but I happen to know for a fact the one at the Temple of Inala is open for your examination. I already cleared it with the remnants of the order," he says. "I do try to think a little ahead."

Cyprian has a moment of silence. "Because it the Temple of Inala, I was tempted to make a joke about hearing 'thinking with my little head' but I'm terrible at jokes," he admits. "Is it the same as at the Temple of Sunala?"

"The temple of Sunala would be more problematic, but could be arranged. Both are trees, though, and feel the same," Alptraum explains, "So one is hopefully enough, and there are less cranky women to deal with at the Temple of Inala."

"That remains to be seen," Cyprian notes. "As we will probably need to bring our own."

"What? You know cranky women?" Alptraum has to ask. "I thought they were mainly weird."

"Mages are notoriously cranky when they have to climb a thousand steps," Cyprian claims.

"Well, the simple solution is you'll just have to carry them up," Alptraum concludes. "You can handle that, right? You're a stout fellow."

"You need me to come along?" Cyprian asks. "You know it will be Rostre that goes in the end. I cannot carry her and riding her would be uncouth."

"You're a stout fellow," Alptraum repeats, "I am sure you could ride her in a dignified way. In fact, I want to see that." He grins.

"In time you might see anything if you are patient," Cyprian claims without promising anything. "Rostre is in her dungeon, as usual, and undoubtedly has theories about divine magic that come from never having experienced a miracle first hand."

"You could ride me, instead," Alptraum suggests with a completely straight face.

"And you're passing me off to Her Squirmness, I see," he adds and splays out his ears.

"I suppose if I were there it would reign in her.. whatever it is that Nagas have that makes them invade others' personal space," Cyprian admits. "If she does agree to go, do not tell her I will accompany you. It might sour her on the outing."

Alptraum chuckles and gets up. "Noted, the lizard is less unpleasant than I am," he remarks with a grin. "I'll go talk to Rostre."

"I ... suppose it does," Alptraum has to concede. "Sorry for the bother today. I know where Rostre is, so you don't need to escort me, nor does anyone else here. I know you're all busy."

"About that other Cervani.. could you approach the Yodhrephath about it?" Cyprian requests.

"I can try. I'm not sure when I'll get back there, but hopefully soon," Alptraum agrees. "If they do have him do you want him brought here?"

"If it can be done discreetly, yes," Cyprian says. "We don't know the risk of leaving them as they are, if they're all hosting these dangerous spirits in them."

"There were a lot of them. It's going to be a lot of effort to undo it all," Alptraum says and sighs, "And you'll likely need me to help."

"There's the risk of letting their whereabouts be known as well, but.. the alternative is performing the extractions there in the Temple of Rephath," Cyprian notes. "And we have no idea of the Royal Mage's timetable."

"Doing it these seems a lot more dangerous. So, here is best," Alptraum notes, "Perhaps if we had a detector to test if they were infected first before bringing them here it would solve issues if it's only a few of them."

"Hmm," Cyprian responds, and leans back in his chair. "Normally we can only detect enchantments on objects, but it is certainly worth looking into. The results of the temple investigation may give us a means of creating such a thing that you could use in the other Temples."

"Well, given who I am, I'm a good test subject for such a thing aren't I?" Alptraum points out and grins.

"I'm not sure about that, since your blend of Spirit, Shadow and Life seems to be unique, and not properly a blending either," Cyprian replies seriously. "Still, it would be worth seeing of a multi-Sphere detection artefact could actually respond to you."

Alptraum frowns. "Are you calling me a freak?" he asks, sounding hurt. Ears fplay out flat again, too.

"I'm calling you something that cannot be broken down and fit into boxes with specific labels," Cyprian notes. "You are a demigod, so there's nothing traditional about your abilities. I personally do not thing they are a mix of other, familiar magical disciplines, but something more primal and ancient."

"How very diplomatic of you to say," Alptraum says with a bow and grins. "And I really should go see Rostre and quit wasting your time with my silliness."

"Let me know when you wish to go to the temple," Cyprian says. "I need to look up a few things in preparation.. which I will start immediately."

"Your secret stash of Temple of Inala licensed pornography?" Alptraum has to ask innocently.

Alptraum rubs his face. "I just ... I still don't understand you," he admits. "You don't take any bait at all."

"I've dealt with master baiters in my youth," Cyprian claims with a perfectly straight face.

Alptraum sticks out his tongue. "That was awful. I'm leaving," he comments and heads right for the door.

Summer is still standing the hallway outside, and smiles brightly to Alptraum. "Hello again, Nightmare," she says. "I wasn't sure what I was supposed to do and nobody came by to ask so I just waited. I have a lot of spare time."

Alptraum blinks a few times. "Are you stalking me?" he asks the doe jokingly. "I'm off to see Rostre now. I do know where it is, but you're welcome to tag along."

The doe actually giggles. "That's the first joke I've heard here!" she claims. "Thanks for inviting me along, it lets me look busy. Stalking. Because I'm probably the only Earth Mage in Babel that specializing in growing plants instead of holding up buildings. How'd you know?"

"An inspired guess," Alptraum remarks a bit dryly. "Come along then. You can tell me about your friend who got in trouble." He grins widely, and then saunters off.

"Oh we all got in trouble," Summer claims. "Just not Babel trouble. Probably because of the giant pumpkin incident... sssss. Incidents." Given her height, Summer is probably older than Tulani, but probably younger than himself. "You'd think they'd make more of an effort at lighting these narrow staircases, but maybe that's just me."

"Eeee. We don't need light to get around. We can see by sound," Alptraum reminds. "Granted, the non-Eeee have a bit of a problem with it." Down they go now, down, down, down. "So, do you know Rostre?"

"This is the first I've heard of her. I didn't know anyone was down here," Summer claims. "There's plenty of room on the upper levels."

"Naga. Spirit Mage. Smells like feet and moldy cheese," Alptraum tries to explain.

"Oh, not related to Mage Stink.. err.. Mage Qing I hope," the doe says, covering her muzzle. "He thought we dropped a ripe melon on his head! Well, his hat. We were completely innocent, too!"

"Were you now? Somehow I don't quite believe you," Alptraum admits. "And are you trying to flirt with me...?

"Stories about being accused for fruit-based assault count as flirting?" the doe asks. "Is that a thing in Babel? I thought everyone was more into insect protein that fruit here."

"Well, you're following me," Alptraum points out, "And I'm a vampire, so fruit doesn't interest me."

"You're a vampire?" Summer asks, and sort of squints in the dim light. "What about really juicy fruit?"

"Yes, I'm a vampire. I can suck on that and it won't make me puke, if that's what you're asking?" Alptraum asks and shakes his head a little.

"I figured vampires would go for tomatoes," Summer says. "So, giant pumpkins aren't fruit. There was some disagreement on that, because of the seeds on the inside, but squash is very distinct from fruit. And we had to hollow them out so we could live in them of course. The seeds were really big too. Some of the others tried coming up with games you could play with them, but there were just too many."

"Given the size, couldn't you have sold them as surfing boards on the Gigi coast? It could be a new export," Alptraum remarks a little dryly. "And are you making fun of me now?"

"I just met you, why would I make fun of you?" the doe asks. "They were only plate sized," she explains making vaguely circular motions with her hands. "We were all in a hurry with the move to Caroban, and.. well.. there just wasn't anything there. So the Earth Mages that weren't building things had to grow things. And when we got tired of staying in tents, someone challenged us to grow a pumpkin as big as a bungalow. And then.. it just ended up being a lot of bungalows. We used the guts for fertilizer mostly, but hadn't thought at the time about how to deal with the pumpkins once the dormitories were ready.."

"Everyone makes fun of me eventually," Alptraum claims as he continues down more and more, and wonders just how deep she was. Ugh. "You could have made armor out of the seeds then. Or just dry them out and use them as plates," Alptraum points out.

"We had to get rid of them because of a swarm of migrating creens," Summer claims. "But the husks.. we had to use magic to keep them from rotting, and once the dorms were ready we just didn't want to hassle with that, and.. it's a sky island. It has edges. We did ask if would could roll them off when were over a mountain, so we could see them hit, but they Council said no to that pretty abruptly. I'm starting to smell something Spirit Snakey Magey, are we close?"

"I think we are. If there are any explosions, random zombies, or skreeks with a lisp, pay it no mind," Alptraum comments and shrugs a little. "So, what exactly did you end up doing with them? I would have rolled them off anyway, of course."

"We rolled them off, of course," Summer echoes. "Over the ocean. We.. didn't think they'd float. I mean they were getting squidgy by then, and I guess that made elastic enough to not explode when they hit. I mean, they broke up, but in big chunks that floated. I think some them actually washed up in a few places."

"How much trouble did you get into? And was your Avatar of Inala friend a part of this?" Alptraum asks innocently.

"But apparently magically-grown giant pumpkin rind is bad for fish, or so the fishermen claimed," Summer says. "Oh, she'd left on a job for the Emir by then, it was a pretty big deal since we'd been sort of keeping to ourselves while we built Caroban.. hey, you tricked me!"

"I'm a demigod, it's what we do?" Alptraum tries to claim and grin. "And don't worry, I won't tell anyone."

"I wasn't there for that avatar business, but I know Cyprian was," Summer says. The smell is strongest now, and there's light leaking from beneath one of the heavy doors so they're probably at their destination.

Alptraum heads over and knocks on the door. "Spiritual Inspector! Bring out our undead for inspection," he bellows through the door. Then back to Summer, he says, "I wasn't there physically, but I saw it."

The door flies open and a monster is behind it. She's got a huge bare skull for a head with feathers glued to it, and a necklace of smaller, varied skulls across her scaly breasts, and smoke flowing from her nostrils. "Alptraum?" Rostre asks. There's a thud from behind him as Summer faints.

"You broke her," Alptraum grumbles at Rostre. He's seen worse than the skull, so it doesn't even phase him! The Eeee sighs and goes to the doe and tries to coax her back to life. Gentle shaking, then tickling if need be.

"No Springer, I didn't take the last honey roll.." Summer mutters, then snaps awake and yelps. "Zombie! Zombie Naga! We gotta escape!" she informs Alptraum.

"Oh, I forgot.." Rostre says and takes off the macabre mask. The nostrils still smoke though. "She's a bit high-strung, isn't she?" she asks Alptraum.

"Not really? A little chatty, but nice. Hey, lets carry her in and put her on one of your exam tables before she wakes up..." Alptraum suggests and picks the doe up quickly. "Mwahahahah, she can wake up wearing this mask..."

At least she doesn't weigh much. "I'm awake. I'm positive I'm awake," she keeps muttering. "No, no, I'm not awake. This isn't happening. It's one of Blythe's dream pranks.."

Alptraum hurries her inside and places the doe on one of the exam tables that isn't too cluttered. "Quick, give me that mask," he requests and makes grabby motions at the naga...

"But what?" Alptraum asks as he tries to see if he can fit it on the doe's head.

The mask is certainly big enough to cover her head, which is smaller than Rostre's. But Summer starts to make odd noises after she's had it on for a short while.

"The incense," Rostre explains. "It's for Naga, not sure what it will do to a mammal. I should probably get a bucket ready though.."

"Fair enough," Alptraum agrees as he fits the mask on the doe carefully. Then he leans down and says into one of her ears, "Arize my thrall! Be born again serve me in unwavering obedience as my demon!"

The eye-holes don't quite line up, since the skull has a much wider spread. Summer at least raises her arms up, and pats her hands against Alptraum until she finds his cheeks. Which she tries to mold like clay. "Ahhhhh," she goes. "Oooo. Pancake bubble man, is that you? I missed how we would play.."

Rostre returns with a bucket, and just watches for a moment. "Well, she hasn't lost motor control," she comments. "That's probably a good sign."

Alptraum looks disappointed. "I was hoping she would freak out more," he complaints and pouts for a moment. He rubs hide forehead for a moment and then goes to take the mask back off. "My jokes never work."

The does eyes are even more dilated than usual for a Cervani, and they seem to be rolling about a bit. "When did you get a face?" she asks. "I need some cheese to clean my ears.."

"I broke her," Alptraum says as he sets the mask away from the doe, and then rubs his face some more. "Is there any antidote?" he asks Rostre.

"Here, hold this in place.." Rostre says, holding the bucket under the doe's mouth.

Alptraum holds the bucket under the doe's mouth. He has a bad feeling this cure is like Hexen's super super headache-b-gone hangover fix. This is going to explode...

Using one hand, Rostre pries up open the deer's mouth, and then sticks a long, thick finger down her throat with the other one. The doe 'glurks' and vomits immediately, with the Naga yanking her finger back just in time. "See? Miracle cure!

"You must be related to Hexen," Alptraum sighs as he turns away from this. Vampires vomit enough, but it doesn't mean he likes it!

"Since she breathed it in, the vomiting is mainly just to get her out of the haze," Rostre says as Summer pukes. It smells like a rancid salad. But it doesn't last long. "Ooooooo," the doe moans.

And neither does Alptraum. He hurries away with the bucket at arm's length to go put it in the farthest corner of the room! "I am never doing that again," he complains as he returns looking almost green himself.

"That wasn't so baaaad," Summer claims after coughing a few times. "Just wasn't expecting it.. uh.. hey, was that a skull?"

"No, just a mask," Rostre claims, taking the very really upper skull of a Naga out of sight. Then removing the necklace of skulls as well.

"Yes, that must be it," Rostre claims, and slithers off for a moment, only to return wearing a poncho. "So, what brings you by, Alptraum?" she asks cheerfully.

"Not butt bones. I have an issue with a magical ritual that blankets the city. It was placed by the Sabbaoth himself, and designed to punish any woman that displeased him," Alptraum explains and then goes into detail, repeating everything he told to Cyprian.

Rostre immediately goes to her Big Book Of Forbidden Things. "That doesn't sound like anything I've read about before," she notes. "But.. if it's theurgy and not sorcery... which are two completely different things, no matter what Guild doctrine says.."

"Well, I can show you one of the anchors at the Temple of Inala for you to get a better idea," Alptraum offers.

"The Temple?" Rostre perks up, and actually coils around Alptraum. "Just.. you and me?" she asks.

"But what if I get excited?" Rostre asks. "This is big, Alptraum! Really big! Not only I could prove that theurgy is a valid distinction from sorcery, but it could be the key to all sorts of mysteries!"

"You would get so excited you would coil a guy?" Alptraum has to ask, brow arched a bit. "Or is that an excuse...?"

"Nobody has ever had a chance to study this sort of thing," Rostre explains, putting her arms around Alptraum's shoulders. "These are wizards and witches, they were organized, devout priestesses. Even the Olympians can't really say that. Nobody knows how the Yodh perform their miracles. Not really. It can't just be 'Spirit Magic' or something, because they can have so many different effects!"

"Look, I can't have you desecrating it either. I promised the remaining followers it wouldn't be. You have to promise," ALptraum insists and crosses his arms.

"What.. I would never desecrate.. wait, what counts as desecration, exactly?" Rostre asks. "Be specific!"

"Damaging anything. Taking anything. Doing anything their rules at the temple would not have permitted," Alptraum ticks off. "It must be a non-destructive exam."

"Spirit Magic doesn't need physical contact," Rostre insists. "I just need to be able to.. find the channels. The drains."

"No drilling," Alptraum says and crosses his arms. "But, as long as you're gentle, you are allowed to examine it."

"I can fix the tree," Summer offers, sitting up now. "It sounded like Earth Magic with the garden and all."

"I'm not sure I want it fixed, but you are welcome to come too if you think you can help," Alptraum offers. "No puking, though."

"I thought kyootcumbers were used for different things by women," Alptraum jokes.

"There is kyootcumber juice, salsa, this... other thing that's supposed to be a dessert," Summer starts to rattle off.

"I don't suppose there are any Yodhinala that could actually pray while I was monitoring them?" Rostre asks Alptraum.

"Well ... it could be arranged. Maybe. They don't exactly advertise anymore," Alptraum notes.

"I never got to see any," Rostre notes. "I heard they could sing and dance and play music and make your cares melt away. At least that's what Gusty said."

"They also engaged in some of the most perverse sex acts the world had ever seen," Alptraum adds.

"Hmmm," Rostre ponders, and releases Alptraum to grab up one of her notebooks. "Were they ritualized acts, would you say?" she asks.

"Well, that could also be a source of theurgy," Rostre notes. "Sorcery doesn't really seem to depend on ritual that isn't directly addressing the spirit being drawn upon, and witchcraft.. seems to be the opposite of sorcery somehow, from what I've read. But theurgy - the granting of power from a deity - just hasn't been studied at all. Not since the days of Old Olympia, and they've since slid into Magery anyway."

"Is that what I am, then? A Theugist?" Alptraum inquires, now curious. A little, anyway.

"Hmm, I don't think so, because theurgy relies on an external deity," Rostre points out. "You don't quite qualify as a sorcerer either.. nor as a demonically possessed hybrid." She circles around Alptraum now, tongue flicking.

"There are just things we don't understand," Rostre claims. "You've just got a lot of weird things in a symbiotic balance of some kind."

"Until I'm killed," Alptraum points out. "Maybe that means the world will end or something."

"Or you'd change into something else!" Rostre says. "I need to pack a few things before we go!"

"I'm not entire clear on the death thing," Summer interjects. "Does Sunala actually kill you, or does she represent the concept of Death? I mean, death just happens without Her intervention, right?"

"She represents the concept and caretaker. She tends to those who have passed. She represents the inevitable end of things in many aspects. She may also visit death upon those that transgress many rules and divine decrees," Alptraum explains and shrugs a bit. "She also likes her tea bitter."

"A caretaker," Summer echoes, looking thoughtful. "That doesn't sound bad. I mean, I know Spirit Mages, and having someone to protect your spirit from being used against its will is comforting, I think. What's wrong with bitter tea? I like bitter tea. Especially with some licorice added."

"Bitter tea is ... bitter. Bitter does not describe pleasant things," Alptraum remarks and glances over at the doe. "But overall, the Sunala I know is a kind person; if at times a bit formal."

"Well, a god should be formal, right?" Summer counters. "Unless it's a Chaos God, but I don't think there are any of those. They'd never show up to work. Well, there's the Olympian one I guess. I can never remember all of their names though. Have you ever met any Olympian gods?"

"Zakaro isn't very formal; she's just weird," Alptraum comments. "I've met them all, you know. I even went on an adventure with Blakat. We fought pirates and won candy coins. And yes, I've met Olympian Gods. Nala, for example."

"Nala? She's a Gigi goddess, I'm pretty sure," Summer says, then looks uncertain despite her claim. "Does she have Khatta feet or Kattha feet? The Olympian ones all have Kattha feet."

"I didn't look at her feet. And Nala dates back to the Olympian times, actually. Also the creator of the Light of Nala. Which I have, but don't tell anyone," Alptraum ticks off on his fingers. "She was really nice."

"I'm guessing Khatta feet, because of the surfing," Summer says. And then leans over to look at Alptraum's feet.

"What? Haven't you seen Eeee feet before?" Alptraum has to ask, then lifts one and wiggles the long toes.

"Not up close," Summer admits. "Earth Magic doesn't attract a lot of winged sorts for some reason. But wow do the Saskanarian Eeee pay well! You'd think they'd be really keen to become Earth Mages, but I've never seen one. Can you scratch your own back with your foot?"

"We're talking about feet. There isn't much of interest about them," Alptraum calls back ... then has to give Summer a really odd look. "I can, but that's a rather strange question. Saskanarian Eeee also aren't that different, except no separate hands, and their have the pointy noses."

"How? You have no toes," Alptraum has to point out as his brow arches up a little. "That doesn't make any sense."

"Feet? Feet are fascinating!" the Naga calls back. "Have you every actually thought about how you can stand up on those things without falling over? It defies reason! And a whole extra set of limbs that you can't do much with.. unless you're an Eeee, but then you're walking on your hands, technically. Korvs at least look balanced.."

"You are hardly a judge of fascinating! You wanted boobs!" Alptraum retorts, "You're just odd, you know. As for walking upright, it's easy."

"Of course I have toes," Summer says, and raises a slender Cervani leg up like a dancer. "I have four toes," she claims. She sort of barely wiggles the two that make up the hoof. There are two little nubs behind them. "I can hold things with them! Just not necessarily pick things up or let things go."

"Those don't count as toes," Alptraum claims, "And given I've been a unicorn before, I should know."

"How could you be a unicorn?" Summer asks. "It is some Son of Death thing where you can live someone's life when they die? Or.. wait, Aeonians don't die. Well.. I'm sure they can. But.. not naturally. Or is it a spirit channeling thing? You're sort of a spirit medium aren't you? I mean officially?"

"I am, yes. I can also change shape," Alptraum explains and shrugs a little. "I've been just about everything, I think. At least anything worth being."

"It gets me attention!" Rostre says. "And with the right rigging, gives me a place to hold my drink while keeping my hands free. Mind you, I had to reuse some of my tubing for a straw.."

The doe does an elegant pirouette. "We are the best at dancing ballet," she claims. "And our men have antlers. So you can tell a lot just by looking at them! And we're just all around graceful and elegant."

"How do horns tell you anything about someone? It just means their head is deformed," Alptraum claims, "And it makes doorways annoying."

"Age, health and status," the doe rattles off. "Strength too. A nice rack is just.. attractive."

"They give you something hold onto during sex too, if you're doing it right," Summer calls back.

"Then what do you hold on with?" Alptraum has to ask. "And how do you know so much? Aren't mages more or less celibate?"

"Cervani generally aren't," Summer says, not answering the first question. "Even though Magic can produce a pleasant sensation, it's not as intense for my kind, on average. And it also depends on the type of magic involved. But Cervani mages usually have families and children."

f"Ah, so you have a husband and children, then?" Alptraum asks. "And you came here?"

"What? Nooo," Summer says, waving her hands. "But the Dean of the School of Mind is a Cervani, and he has a daughter who's also a Mage," she explains. "I mean, Cervani bucks are brimming with male fluids and stuff. That's what makes the antlers grow. That's gotta put a lot of pressure on their brains."

"That's the silliest thing I've ever heard," Alptraum says and rubs his face again, "It doesn't work that way."

"Says the man without antlers," Summer says. "The boy up in the infirmary would probably agree with me. Bucks need to have sex so that their brains aren't crushed."

"That's just what they tell you to get it," Alptraum points out. "Are you twelve years old? Do you still believe that?"

"Well, nobody has claimed it to my face in awhile," Summer admits. "It made sense at the time. I just haven't thought about it much in the past few years. On Caroban, nobody every really seemed interesting in me that way. Just for my bubbly personality, intelligence, and baking skills."

"Uh ... huh. So, you just ride your staff, then?" Alptraum jokes. "Or keep a lapi around?"

"My Lapi friend from college was more interested in my Lapi roommate," Summer says, then looks thoughtful again. She actually furrows her brow with the effort. "I don't think I've ever actually done any intimate stuff. Oh... Xander had that stuff that suppresses rut. I remember now!"

"No, he was a Fire Mage," Summer explains. "My roommate was a Lapi doe. They.. well, they were very pally but I don't think anything much went on between them. I'm not sure, but Fire Mages might explode or something if they're over-stimulated. While we Earth Mages, and also Water Mages, are very serene and.." She pauses and tries to find the right word. "Oh, grounded."

"That ... that's a really bad joke. Who was the doe and why didn't they hook up? Surely it wasn't because of what he was learning, that's silly," Alptruam points out and shakes his head a little.

Rostre finally returns from the other chamber wearing her Spirit Mage robes (although they're more of a poncho for Nagas) and a wide brimmed white hat as well the ties below her jaw with a string. She's got sash-belt that seems stuff with books and other supplies.

"Oh, Spring Meadow just didn't see him that way," Summer explains. "Lapi does and bucks can be just friends after all. Plus he would prank her by exploding her butt."

"Well, that is a way to engage carnally without getting someone pregnant," Alptraum explains, "And I hear people learn to enjoy it that way too."

Summer stares blankly at Alptraum. "Magic," she finally says. "He would snap his fingers under her tail and cause a loud pop."

"Oh, actual explosions, not just taking her from behind that way," Alptraum explains and shrugs a little. "Live in Babel long enough and you'll try it."

"I can't cause explosions with Earth Magic," Summer points out, clearly misunderstanding. "I can do a trick where I pull a flower from behind someone's ear though."

"Not what I mean. What I mean is a guy can enter you from you're bum instead of the other way, and no risk of pregnancy," Altpraum explains rather bluntly.

"That would be very musky," Summer claims. "And I can't imagine it being very fun for the doe."

"When sssexually aroused, people become a lot lessss picky about such things," Rostre claims. "I am ready to embark! Unless we need to bring an offering of some sssort?"

"I've known women that like being taken that way," Alptraum notes and shrugs again, "It still stimulates! Just differently. As for an offering, no, i don't think so. Just don't damage the place. Maybe help restore it a little. Nothing else."

"It's not a problem if I'm a virgin right?" Summer asks. "Because I'm pretty sure that I am."

"Pretty bad condition, and no, being a virgin doesn't matter. Your kind were sacrified there, so to speak," Alptraum claims.

"I never understood that tradition either," Summer says. "Oh, can we stop at my room to pick up some things?"

"Sure, we can wait until you pick up whatever you need," Alptraum agrees and nods. "Just don't take too long about it."

"Just follow me then," Summer says. Then she steps into the hallway and looks both ways. "Which way did we come?" she then asks.

"Back this way," Alptraum says and gestures for her and Rostre to follow. He can at least lead them back up to the main level!

It is hard to find Summer's room once they reach the main level. She actually has a fairly well appointed one, despite having only a skylight instead of windows. Still, she's got a lot of potted plants and ferns. As for picking things up.. she just grabs a shoulder bag that looks like it was pre-loaded. "I have my stuff," she declares. Then looks around in a brief sort of panic before calming down again. "Ready to go!"

"Wait, that's it? That's all you need to grad, looking surprised," Alptraum has to ask. "Were you already planning on going somewhere? What's in the bag?"

"Oh, I just forgot if I'd taken down my laundry or not," Summer claims, and gestures to an empty clothesline that has a vine climbing along it already. "I never unpacked my supplies, since the garden in the tower already has everything I'd need."

"What sort of clothing were you worried about? Did you have something skimpy up?" Alptraum has to ask. "But, if that's everything, we can get going.""

"All underwear is exciting," Alptraum claims. "Even Naga underwear," he adds and looks over to Rostre, then grins and winks. "Anyway, off to the Temple of Inala. It has seen far better days."

This entails taking another exit lower down, but Rostre knows the way. The door guards outside on the bridge don't question them, but that could also be because Cyprian is already there waiting for them. "Shall we?" he asks.

"Indeed. We shall," Alptraum agrees and motions onward. It'll be a long walk, but he can handle it; he's not some city Eeee!

It is indeed quite a trek. Summer actually had a filled canteen in her bag though, at least. There were also several rest stations along the switch-back Pilgrims Path up Mt. Inala, which Summer appreciated but Rostre did not. "I must keep moving please," she would complain, as the afternoon began to wane.

"Why must you keep moving?" Alptraum has to ask. "And at this rate you may have to stay the night."

"I need to keep moving to stay warm," Rostre notes. "This path is very exposed, and the wind is chill." It's not that cool, but then again Eeee tend towards high body temperatures in Babel. "It is not much further," Cyprian promises.

Alptraum looks at Cyprian. He knows that's not quite true, but doesn't say anything. "Well, onward and upward," Alptraum decrees and heads further up the path.

At least Summer's chatter diminishes with altitude. As awesome as Cervani allegedly are, endurance may not be one of their great attributes. But she doesn't complain. The sun is just kissing the spires of Babel when they reach the top, and Summer lets out a forlorn sounding bleat at the sight of the former gardens that circled the temple.

"I told you the place has seen better days. It was ransaked and burned," Alptraum says, "The Priestess' here weren't the best ... but it still hurts to see it like this." He sighs and waves, "Now we're almost there."

There's a lot of crackling as Rostre slithers across the dried up grass, but she's in a hurry to get indoors, even if most of the indoors is without a roof. The Temple didn't really have a lot of walls to begin with, being mostly columns and archways with gauze and lace curtains dividing areas to create a dreamlike air to the place. Most of the pillars still stand, but some are scorched. The path to the central tree doesn't pass by the mosaic wall that holds the secret entrance to the bunker, but Alptraum is still aware of Tulani shadowing them. Mave is ahead, waiting for their arrival, but not yet visible.

"So ... I should probably warn you. One of the remaining Yodhinala will be meeting us here," Alptraum finally admits. "She's ... she can be trying, but please humor her if she gets cranky."

"I don't blame her," Rostre says, gesturing to the destruction. "This must have been a palace before."

"She ... was also one of the former High Priestesses," Alptraum admits. "And tried to kill me. But she got better."

There isn't really anything left of the old comforts, save for the occasional toppled and broken statue, or a pile of glass that might have been something shiny and prized. The tree, when they come upon it, is more of a testament to what was lost. Mave is there, and has not made herself up to represent what was lost. She wears a rather plain Eeee wrap-around cloak, and even has a veil over her upper face. She's still got the figure of a Yodhinala though, and the bearing. "Welcome to the Temple of Inala," she greets, and nods first to Alptraum, saying, "Barsunala," and then to Cyprian, "and Avenger." She looks to the other two mages and seems to wait for introductions.

"This is Summer and Rostre. Mages of Earth and Spirit. They're here to examine the rituals left behind by the Sabbaoth. I have instructed them that no further damage should be done to anything here. They have agreed to these terms and will treat this place with respect. I think Summer even wants to help restore some of the plants."

The Earth Mage is staring at the tree and crying, so she may not even have noticed the introduction. Rostre bows deeply, and promises, "I will endeavor not to disssturb anything. Any feelings of distressss could overwhelm the traces of residual energy."

"Cyprian, if you would like to speak with or entertain the Priestess, you are welcome to try," Alptraum offers.

Cyprian approaches Mave, who actually offers her hand, so he takes it and kisses the back of her wrist. "I assure that nothing blasphemous will occur."

While Rostre begins unpacking her supplies, Summer asks Mave, "Can I touch it please?" Rostre hisses, "If you do, no magic! Not yet."

Alptraum is actually surprised Cyprian took him up on that offer! But he tries to cover it up by speaking to the two mages, "Well, I will let you get to your work and stay out of your way. Take as long as you need, and be careful."

Mave actually smiles to the doe and nods. "Alptraum," Rostre replies, "Can you help keep me warm? I cannot have a fire in here. But not too warm, asss I need to keep my focus."

"Warm how, then?" Alptraum has to ask. "I don't really have ways to do that! I'm not a living blanket."

"Jusst rub my lower body," the Naga instructs. "That isss a safe from of warming, and easssy to regulate," she explains as she produces spools of differently colored string from her pouches.

"All right, I can try to do that," Alptraum agrees. He heads behind the large snake and looks at her huge ... tail. Giving there's no chairs here, he sits right on her tail and starts to rub along it slowly, with hands and wing.

Rostre doesn't say much as Alptraum works, as she's busy looking at the layout of the chamber, the tree (which is being hugged by Summer) and the debris. She's taking little stone figures out of her pouches as well, and seems to be weighing each one in her left hand.

"Are you okay, Summer?" Alptraum asks after a short glance back at the doe. Then it's right back to rubbing snake. At least they're mostly smooth to rub as long as you only go one way.

Luckily Rostre isn't molting, or the rubbing could get very weird. "I'm.. do you know what this is?" Summer asks Alptraum, still holding onto the tree.

"A tree that doesn't exist," Summer claims. "I know, because I've seen one before, back in school. It's the result of magic acting on a seed and changing it completely."

"Well, it's telling of the origins of it," Summer claims. "And how it could be used to channel one kind of magic into another kind."

"Is that why it makes you sad? Or why you're hugging it?" Alptraum has to ask. "I have to admit it looks really weird," he adds, while running a Naga's long butt.

"I need your assssistance, Summer," Rostre says, which tears the doe away from the tree. "No, I was crying because.. I don't know why," she claims. After gingerly making her way through the ruined garden, she and Rostre engage in what is probably a discussion of magical mathematics. Geometry to be specific, with the Naga gesticulating as she rattles off strange terms.

Cyprian comes over and explains to Alptraum, "Normally a ritual would require a magic circle traditionally drawn in chalk, and several focuses - usually candles. They can't do that here."

"Because it would damage things? If you need a spirit magic source, you have one. Me," Alptraum points out and looks up. "I can probably act as a battery. For a while, anyway."

"Ah, that may be necessary," Cyprian notes. "This is forensic magic. The little figures Rostre has should be charged with energy.. but she probably didn't have time to actually do so. She may need to use blood, which is also tricky, since none can be spilled on the ground."

"Understood. Also, i should warn that using me as a battery could be dangerous to me. Drain a spirit too low and what happens? Well, imagine that, but worse," Alptraum notes. "But if it is needed, I'll allow it."

"We do not need much," Rostre claims. "Too much would be bad. We cannot know the exact sort of magic that happened here. I mussst assssume it is close to the original Spirit Magic, if such is what is created by prayer. Our modern form isss not entirely compatible. You are a ssource which might be better here, if cannot have Inala Herssself aid us."

Alptraum looks to Mave. "Well, I or she could appeal to Inala for help ... but my blood may be easier to use," he admits. "I'm okay with using it."

"Here," Rostre says, twisting her upper body to hand one of the figures to Alptraum. It's made of black stone, and seems fairly primitive - a barrel-shaped lower body, what might be hands held together with arms pinned to its sides, and a featureless flat face. But the top is a sort of crown made by the intersection of several deep notches, with a small pit at the very center.

Alptraum takes the figure and peers at it. "Blood in the top, then?" Alptraum asks in clarification. While he waits for the reply, he uses a fang to prick the tip of one of his fingers and get a little blood to bead up on it.

"One drop only," Rostre says with a nod. "I have tested the potency of your fluidsss before. That should be plenty."

"You're better off not knowing," Alptraum tells Cyprian, then focuses on the task at hand. Namely squeezing that one drop of blood into the top of the figure's head. "No using this to control me, either."

"It doesssn't work that way," Rostre replies. "Thisss isn't witchcraft or sympathetic magic. I could not sssummon your spirit from a single drop of blood." She then holds her scaly hand out for the figure, but already has another one waiting in her other hand.

Alptraum swaps the figure out for the empty one and does the exact same thing. One drop of blood. "How do you know it doesn't work that way with me?" Alptraum points out.

"If it doesss, it would not matter," Rostre claims. "Because I am not a witch, and this ritual will use up the energies." The first figure is handed to Summer, who makes use of her 'Cervani grace' to gingerly make her way to a spot on the far side of the chamber, where she carefully set the figurine down on a bit of fallen masonry. This repeats a few times, until nearly a dozen of the figures are primed and set around the chamber, all without Rostre moving any closer inside.

Which leaves Alptraum sucking on a now very sore finger. "MMMMcle?" he asks of Cyprian. Didn't Cyprian say there couldn't be a circle?

"A different kind of circle," Cyprian explains, inferring what Alptraum meant to ask. It's up to Summer again, this time using the spools of thread. While Rostre beings to chant, the doe uses the thread to connect the figures, using the notches in the tops to hold the thing strands. Red for the outside not-quite circle, then different colors for connecting up pairs of them so that the lines lay across the scene like a growing spiders web. All without disturbing anything. Summer even pulled up her robes a bit and re-tied them so nothing would touch the ground.

"That is ... really impressive," Alptraum has to admit, feeling like a clown at the circus again, pretending to be things he is not.

Alptraum also gets off Rostre's tail for now and stretches a little bit, then looks to Mave.

Summer finishes connecting things, and takes over Alptraum's spot and rubbing duty. Mave's aura is.. calm. As she were meditating, even while she stands and watches. She did Alptraum how to channel Life Magic, so it stands to reason that she can do more than just mix up potions. But she's not giving off any sort of magical signal as the ritual officially begins.

Alptraum moves over to be a little closer to Mave. "Are you all right?" he asks her very quietly.

"I'm not sure," Mave says. "I am trying to be. How old do you think the tree is, Alptraum? As far as I know, it has always been here."

"Five or six hundred years, at minimum," Alptraum replies after some thought. "Probably older. What are you feeling, right now, that makes you unsure?"

Mave's eyes may be shrouded by the veil, but her jaw is visible. She seems to be chewing on her words, before saying, "It never felt like Inala. Is that an odd thing to admit?"

"The tree? No, it is not. It may be similar, but it wouldn't be, and its purpose was different," Alptraum notes. "Is that what bothers you?"

"No, it's.." Mave says, and chews on her words some more. "Inala is our mother. You remember what it was like to be held by your mother.. the one who raised you, don't you? The tree was like that, but also not as.. visceral. The garden was always in bloom, but the tree never produced fruit or nuts or pollen or flowers. It did not reproduce. So.. it was like a mother but not. I suppose it is what a grandmother might feel like. But the Yodhinala never really had grandmothers. Did you know your mother's mother among the gypsies?"

"No, I did not. She had died long before I was taken in. Killed while on the road in a zombie attack," Alptraum admits. "I've never known any kin beyond my immediate."

"The same is true for Tulani, I believe," Mave says. "So I can't be sure if what I feel is correct."

Now Alptraum begins to sense something. The ritual is still going on, and there's no rise in spirit magic from the circle, beyond the sense of his own blood - but the tree is beginning to show an aura.

"The tree is reacting," Alptraum says as his focus quickly shifts to it. I feel and see it ... glow?"

Mave doesn't respond. And Rostre's voice seems to fade. Everything seems to take on a shimmery silver tone, as if seen through Barsunala-vision overlayed on top of the normal view of things. But it also seems like time has stopped for everyone but Alptraum. The aura of the tree is also taking on more of a form now.

"This is ... unexpected. Is it because my blood was used?" Alptraum wonders. He approaches this aura-tree now, avoiding stepping on the circle in the process through delicate dance-work.

The aura seems to step out to meet him, suddenly taking on the form of an Eeee. It's a bit androgynous, with skin make of white bark, wings of branches and hair and vanes of golden leaves. It's face if friendly, but also looks carved an unmoving, save for the eyes. They're knots of wood, but take on the aura-glow. It moves oddly. With each step hair-like roots grow from its feet into the soil, only to be snapped off when that foot needs to move again. But one foot is always planted to the ground. It doesn't look like it can move very fast or far though. It can hold out its hand though, palm upward, towards Alptraum.

"Hello? Who, or what are you?" Alptraum asks of this odd tree-Eeee," Alptraum asks as he looks from its face to its hand, then back. His brow furrows, unsure if touching it is a very good idea ... but he holds up his left hand, though, palm upward, in mimic.

The odd being continues to smile. It takes some effort to look down at Alptraum's hand, and more slightly jerky motion to offer its other hand as well. "Come," it says in a voice like the stirring of leaves in a breeze. "See."

Alptraum takes the other offered hand. "All right," he agrees. "Do you even know who I am?"

"You are you," the dryad says. "You are now. I am then." And suddenly it is daytime, and the temple is very different. The architecture is the same, but the rest is unfamiliar. The garden is not filled with flowers, but with more practical looking herbs. And the Yodh that are present are dressed far too modestly. A woman in the robes of a Yodhrinala stands before a man who is clearly a soldier, even though he isn't wearing armor or carrying weapons. His exposed arms carry some nasty looking scars, as does his face, but there are also patches of fur that don't match. "Lord Dronnel, you should not be making pilgrimage so soon. You need to finish your recovery," the priestess tells him.

"That's Dronnel? That's horrible. He looks .... awful. What happened to him?" Alptraum wonders, and moves closer to get a better look at him. He's also ... surprised to see this was once Rinala's temple? Here?

"You all made me your Sabaoth to fight your war, but my duties do not end with it," the man says, his voice marred by what is probably a throat injury. "The Sages of the Tower have made me into a quilt, but I will hold together long enough. They also made this." He produces a cylinder, and unscrews it from the base. Lifting the top away reveals a tiny white sapling with golden buds. "They say they made it from me, or that I am part of it. I have one for each Temple, so that even after Rinala grants me a new life, I can find my way back, and so you will not forget me."

"We will never forget you," the priestess says, taking the sapling. "We will keep you in our prayers always, and when you are gone we will honor you through the tree this becomes."

There's another figure present that seems to stand out. She's tall for an Eeee woman, with black fur and black hair. She wears something like a toga instead of robes. Her arms are crossed as she watches, and each wrist seems to be held in silver cuff, with several links of silver chain dangling down from then. They sound like chimes when she shifts around, instead of the rattling of chains.

"This tree was to honor the original Sabbaoth, before he fell to darkness? He was used by them, too? I would be furious," Alptraum mutters to himself. "So these trees are part of his soul then." He rubs over his face slowly, then turns his gaze to the other Eeee. "Rinala?" he asks in her direction. It's unlikely any could hear him, this is the past. But, maybe.

The dark woman turns her head and looks straight at Alptraum. Her eyes are silver, just like his. "Yes, my son?" she asks.

Alptraum blinks. "You can see me?" he asks, surprised by this! He figured she was just part of the 'past scene'. He blinks, repeatedly. "I ... don't know what to say."

"All this. This tree. In time it is used to fuel a special hell to punish women, instead of just being linked to a man who at one time did save Babel," Alptraum admits and gestures around. "I want to destroy it to eliminate his hell, but is there anything of this man worth saving? He was good once, right?"

"He is what Babel needed," Rinala says, coming over to Alptraum.. and immediately putting her palm to his chest, right over his scar. "Diphath and the Corrupted Ones could only be defeated by Babel united. We had to give our strength to a Sabaoth, to rally them and lead them. What do the Sisters know of conflict, after all? I know the burden upon you has been great as a result. The sea is filled from those who fell, and you must carry them to their new lives. But you don't remember, do you? You speak of things.." She pauses, then says, "I'm not there in your life, am I? I don't feel myself. Not quite. But there's something. I will see you again, I think. The enemy is returned, isn't it?"

"No, you are not. The Sisters are broken. You are outlawed, but that is slowly falling now. Babel is. Has. Rotted. A city of depravity, betrayal, and death," Alptraum explains with a sigh. "Amena, Amenlichli, Dipath, whatever name she goes by, is back. She's been active in Babel for a very long time, and is responsible for all of it. She even claimed Dronnel in the end, and made him into a monster," Alptraum explains, sounding a little tired and broken by it all. "Even this tree, which may have once meant hope .. was just used to torture any woman who wouldn't give Dronnel a new body to inhabit."

"Do not blame the tree then," Rinala urges. "It contains the essence of the hero, not what he became. But, the key is in what it contains.. what part of him was merged with it."

"What part? How do I undo what it fuels without undoing the hero?" Alptraum asks, quietly. He also randomly says, "You and I have the same eyes."

"Of course we do," Rinala says. "You have my eyes. I do not know what part of him is bound to the tree. The Sages of the Tower can do amazing things.. if not always reliably. But the Corrupted Ones supposedly came from the Tower as well. You will figure it out, I am sure. You aren't alone."

"No, I brought in mages of Spirit, Earth and Mind to help. They are more skilled in these things than I am," Alptraum admits, "I'm good with monsters and souls. Not so much with the complex arcane." He breathes out slowly, then says, "I can't believe I'm actually seeing you; talking to you. I only know you as Sunala and Inala, sort of a split of .... you. I think."

"My daughters, along with Gephesa," Rinala says, and then adds, "And another, I think. Nala perhaps? The whole family. Grandmother, mother, daughters and son."

"Nala is a feline, though," Alptraum notes, "So much mess, so much loss. So much forgotten. And dealing with Amena this time may cost the son his existence."

"Do not let that happen," Rinala says. "The relationships between gods are always messy, but you are my legacy. No matter what the Lore may claim in your days. The Lore isn't everything. Some bonds are stronger."

"Only so much is within my power. And she has to stop, and this time for good. I can't let her threaten our people anymore. Too many have died, or worse, because of her," Alptraum notes, his voice a bit sad, along with wilted ears. "There are days seeing what we've become hurts more than I can explain."

"They have become representations of all that is vice. They have become reflections of their people," Alptraum explains. "I'm trying to save them. To save everything. But so often I do feel alone in it."

"The people do not wish to be saved?" Rinala asks. "They hold no hope of salvation?"

"I don't know. I am sure some do. Others ... just to get whatever they want. When you live long in darkness, you can forget what light even looks like," Alptraum waxes.

"Remind them," Rinala advices. "Show them the Light. Unity is what Amena has always feared. It is her greatest weakness, because she only understands selfishness. Dronnel used that to defeat her. But.. there is always a way in for her, at the personal level. If unity is her bane, then fear is her strength. Fear of dying, fear of poverty, fear of pain. Fear of life."

"Can one person really do it? Dronnel had all of you and Babel. I have ... me and a small group of weird people," Alptraum admits. "I'm no hero."

"He was just a soldier at first," Rinala claims. "Unity is what matters. Inspiration and hope, even forgiveness. If someone thinks they cannot be forgiven, then why would they strive to progress? You know someone like that, don't you? They chose to abandon who they were. For others, the need is to know that they can progress, no matter where they started. That is hope."

"All I can do is try. I've heard heroes are just people who got lucky most of the time, or were too stupid to give up," Alptraum remarks a bit cynically. "Was Dronnel already dying here? Is this what started the whole body-shifting?"

"His wounds were severe," Rinala says. "It was our power that sustained him, until the Sages began to work on him. They grafted new flesh, replaced organs. I don't know what else they may have done. Or what effect it had on his mind."

"What exactly did he fight to end up so badly damaged? What sort of monster was it she used?" Alptraum has to ask.

"The Corrupted Ones where.. abominations," Rinala says. "Not quite people, but not quite beasts. They must have been in pain, to be so savage. Diphath harnessed their madness somehow. Some.. may not have even been alive. Sometimes they were contagious. They nearly took Dronnel down. But despite the chaos of battle, he found Diphath and destroyed her vessel."

"One of my priestesses," Rinala admits, looking pained. "The battle took place on the mount which now bears Dronnel's name."

"One of yours? How did that happen?" Alptraum asks, sounding horrified. "I've never been to that mountain."

"It happened by force," Rinala claims. "She was kidnapped and driven insane. Even changed physically. Diphath's presence warps both mind and body. Or at least it seemed so, as she would only subsist on fresh blood. Diphath and I are shadows, you could say, of Nala and Amena. Their conflict is our conflict. Reincarnation versus unmortality."

"I believe you. I've seen things Dipath ... Amena has done. Her old cities. The wars, the deaths," Alptraum says and shakes his head. "I didn't even grow up in Babel. Not this version of me anyway. I grew up in a land that Amena has permanently scarred too. I saw all the horrors and undead firsthand."

"You always were exposed to the darkest parts of people, along with the brightest," Rinala says, and actually gives Alptraum a hug. "I try to make it easier for you by tipping the balance towards light as much as I can. But it sounds as if you haven't been seeing enough of it in people."

"Unfortunately true. There are times it can all feel hopeless," Alptraum admits, quietly. "But I manage on, somehow."

"Amena knows this, I'm sure," Rinala says as she steps back, but still holds Alptraum's shoulders. "Her own goals have always weakened her enemies as well. A result of the difference between her and Nala's modes of existence - Amena can take her time. She is a slow disease with occasional infectious outbreaks. While Nala just.. loses herself in a new life over and over."

"And I do not know where Nala even is now. I have the Light. Well, a friend has the Light; I cannot carry it," Alptraum notes and sighs, then has to rub over his face a little. "Does it ever get to a point where it's no longer worth it to fight?"

"It's not about fighting," Rinala says. "It's about living. Life is a struggle. And we need challenges. I will fight as best I can, even though I know that I will be lost in time." She then smiles and holds Alptraum's cheeks. "But you will go on. I tried to compromise. To remain a goddess but still have a part of me in the mortal cycle. Maybe I've been split up into different goddesses, or re-imagined. That is part of what it means to be a goddess. Our greatest strength and weakness. But you will always have a place, so long as there is life and death and birth. So, defeat Amina in all her forms. You are the only one she can't defeat, without turning the whole world into the undead."

Alptraum shakes his head a little. "I wish you wouldn't be forgotten. Too many good things are; and often replaced by worse things," he says and ends up looking down a little. "I am doing what I can and I will continue to do so. But sometimes it just feels overwhelming."

"I'm sorry I'm not there for you," Rinala says. "But I'm never really gone. That doesn't happen to gods and goddesses. We may get shuffled or split or merged, but we're still there. Part of Nala is in me, after all. I'm sure you can find me if you look hard enough. But whoever comes after me will help you, I'm sure."

"The Yodhrinala were, and many still are, afraid of me," Alptraum notes sadly. "But I do have some friends, some allies, and help from unusual places."

"Why are my Yodh afraid of you?" Rinala asks, as if she were asking, "Which girl made fun of you? I'll set her straight!"

"Because I represent part of the group that hunted and executed them. In my time, you are outlawed," Alptraum explains, sadly. "I've never harmed a Yodhrinala, but because of the association, I do make them nervous."

"I see," Rinala says a bit coldly. "And this was Sunala's doing, or just her Yodh?"

"Her Yodh, I believe. Though I do not know for certain. Sunala herself has put a stop to that now that she has an Avatar," Alptraum notes.

"An Avatar?" Rinala asks, looking skeptical. "How is that even possible? Death can't be alive. It was.. something that was always an issue. But as I said, we are not masters of our fate as deities. All because people wanted to focus on details instead of the whole."

"Yes, an Avatar, a Srinala who is also quite kind and gentle. She and I have both helped each other," Alptraum explains. "She's ... a lot like you, truth be told. And her best friend is ... Amenlichli's only living descendant. A kind girl too."

Here Rinala has to pause. "An Avatar and a potential Avatar together," she says. "Does she know she's in Amenlichtli's line of descent?"

"So, they bonded," Rinala says, a rather Inala-ish smile playing on her lips. "Amena can't get to her. But she's next to Amena's greatest prize as well, the Avatar of Death. It must be very frustrating."

"I don't know if Amenlichli can get to her or not. The process for them becoming the Avatar isn't well known," Alptraum explains. "I hope she never had to endure that fate."

"And I do not know what it would mean if Amena lost her line, assuming this child does not have children," Rinala says. "Is it a chain that binds her, or a tool she needs to progress. She has found surrogates in the past, but they have been temporary things."

"I don't know. Much of her story is lost to history and I think she prefers it that way.

"Yes, she and Amena aren't like the rest of the deities," Rinala says. "They aren't beholden to the Lore. And while I can't say where the seeds for the rest of us came from, we were still influenced by them."

"That limits us and strengthens her," Alptraum laments. "I suspect her biggest weakness is likely well-guarded on her island home, as no one can go there."

"I think the has another weakness," Rinala says, and leans forward. "Reach. She isn't like us. She does not gain strength through worship. The world is not overrun by the dead. That may be why she needs her Avatar. A lens to focus her power through, as we gods can act through our worshipers. Otherwise she is forced to create her lesser avatars, through means I do not know. And then somehow retain control of them."

"Well, she used black hearts for some of that, through the Shadow of Amena. But I took that ability away from her," Alptraum notes.

"Undead remains of a creature called a shadow dragon. I have its power now, which lets me heal and manipulate living matter," Alptraum explains. "Nothing undead related to it with me."

"So these pieces could be used to create powerful undead, which could then be used to create or control others?" Rinala asks. "Does it have a weakness?"

"Iron. Iron burns it. It also now burns me, so it's my weakness too," Alptraum admits.

"Iron?" Rinala asks, looking irritated. "You can't bless iron. It is a vile material. But at least it is rare. But mortals could wield it if they had enough."

"It's less rare than it used to be. And yes, it's quite vile," Alptraum agrees and shudders. "The Light of Nala itself is useful against her as well."

"So she really did split herself away from her power," Rinala says. "I never understood that. Our power comes from belief, after all. How could one separate that from us?"

"I don't know at all. But she was a living mortal being once, and decided to remake herself into a twisted God," Alptraum points out. "She's even tried to bribe me, once or twice."

"Nala did?" Rinala asks, getting that I'll do something bad to her tone again. "What did she try to bribe you with? And to do what for her?" she demands.

"No, Amena did. Nala did not," Alptraum clarifies. "Nala was kind to me and just asked me to help."

"Oh," Rinala says, calming down. "What did Amena want from you then? I can't imagine she had anything to offer you."

"To quit challenging her, and she'd let me live out my life ... and just wait until i'm gone to continue," Alptraum answers.

"She may be under some time pressure then," Rinala speculates. "You are a threat to her, after all. You always have been. And you say you've stolen her weapon as well."

"I also have one that can kill her. But it could also kill me, you, or any God or other creature for that matter. It undoes time," Alptraum explains.

"That seems impossible," Rinala says. "Who could make something like that? But.. if it can kill Amena once and for all, I can accept it. But you would need to find her to use it, wouldn't you?"

Alptraum nods. "I would, and there in lies the challenge too. I probably will eventually have to go to her island, as I imagine that is where her anchor really is," Alptraum says and sighs. "But that's a way's off. Right now it's fixing Babel and trying to redeem our people a little."

"I believe you can do it," Rinala says. "You are the one who takes them to new life, after all."

"I can try. I'm flawed as anyone," Alptraum admits. "But at least I am trying; that's more than most."

"Your flaws are the same as theirs," Rinala claims. "They can relate to you far more than they can to us. And maybe even to one another. By overcoming them you show them what they could be."

"You have to be crazy to believe in a lot of things," Rinala claims, and winks. "So long as they don't start worshipping a goddess of craziness, at least."

"That's Blakat. She likes to go on treasure hunts involving candy coins," Alptraum explains. "And she made me go with her."

"Are you still joking, my son?" Rinala has to ask. "Treasure hunts? Candy coins? Where there pirates?"

"Did you have fun?" the goddess asks in a motherly tone that seem half shaming and half 'looking for a bright side'.

"A little. It was a better outlet for her than killing people," Alptraum points out.

"I am seeing a trend in the warping of the Sisters," Rinala sighs. "I only hope it can be sorted out somehow."

"They're all awful in their own special way. The least awful is probably Barada, but she's a blackmailer, so," Alptraum says and shrugs a little.

"Hmm. I can't do anything about it from my end, alas," Rinala says. "The Lore and all. And I may not remember any of this. Or I may just be an echo. The ghosts of gods are fairly lively after all."

"I ... I really don't know. You have to exist somehow for me to be able to talk to you now. Maybe all I've been doing is what brought you back now?" Alptraum suggests.

"You are the bridge," Rinala says. "You bring the past to the future. Death to Life. You are in the right place, and have the right ability."

"So dragons are real too?" Rinala asks. She giving a 'pull the other one' look now. "Not just Nagas that got too big for their own good?"

"Yes, they are. One is my secretary," Alptraum notes. "And not just a naga, no. An actual dragon. With a dragon ego."

"And does she collect princesses too?" Rinala has to ask. "Or is she just not the ambitious sort?"

"Well, that seems admirable, so long as she isn't doing it for sport or sexual gratification," Rinala says, and the gives Alptraum a worried look. "Tell me there are some normal women in your life, at least?"

"Well ... define normal? I have a former prostitute, a Yodhbarada as a servant, a former pirate sailor, airship Sphynx, a crazy Naga ... and a vampire queen and ruler of Draco county," Alptraum ticks off. "And a Yodhgorphatm and a couple Yodhblakat."

"Tell me about the prostitute and the queen and then explain to me what a Sphynx is," Rinala lists off, in order of importance.

"The prostitute is Mave, the former High Priestess of Inala. The queen is Countess Draco, ruler of Draco County, whom I, er, will have a family with. A Sphynx is a cat-vartan thing," Alptraum summarizes.

"A cat with a beak?" Rinala asks. "A High Priestess of Inala? Now, is she a Countess or a Queen and what do you mean you're having a family?" She seems most excited about the last one of course.

"A cat with wings, not a beak. And yes, a High Priestess of Inala. And lastly, Countess, though I think of her as a queen, and she certainly has the demeanor of one," Alptraum explains. "And I mean exactly what I said, she's pregnant, with our children."

This time the smile was really big. "That's wonderful!" Rinala says, and hugs Alptraum again. "I always love it when you have children! Is she with you in Babel though?"

"No, she's on the other side of the world, far from Babel," Alptraum explains, blinking a lot at the hug. "She has to protect her lands and deal with all the matters there."

"You need to get back to her then," Rinala says. "Crush Amena's latest monster as soon as you can."

"Raising an army in Babel is not easy, I know," Rinala says. "Nobody wants to fight when they can't understand the threat." Babel must have been very different back then.

Alptraum nods. "Well, is there any more wisdom you can impart about Dronnel, or what is in the tree? Or how to make the tree not do what it is currently doing?" he asks. "And was Dronnel ever decent at all?"

"He was the most decent man we knew, a hero we could invest our power in," Rinala says. "But he was still a man, and flawed. But he did what we needed him to do... and we did not expect him to survive it."

"But the trees have a piece of him, and that does create a sympathetic link," she says.

"The pieces may be specific to us," Rinala suggests. "If you can collect them, that may be enough. But they must connect to something that shares affinity with him. That will be the focus."

"To you as now, not what you became?" Alptraum clarifies. "I do have a mage that specializes in this sort of thing; she recognized the tree immediately."

"A unique tree, created by powerful magic. There's a ritual of some sort involved in their creation; she's seen it before," Alptraum explains. "Only once, though."

"But these were created by the Sages.." Rinala says, but looks uncertain. "I don't understand magic," she admits.

"Different titles, similar techniques," Alptraum notes. "I'll ask her, she should be able to find it."

"Well, I hope I was able to help you understand the origins of the trees," Rinala says. "And it is always good to see you."

"You did, and I hope this won't be the last time I see you," Alptraum admits, and dares to hug tight. "Thank you."

Rinala hugs back just as tight. She's as tall as Alptraum, which makes things easier. "Do good, and love your children," she tells him.

"I was talking to Rinala," Alptraum says as he lets go. "I know more about the trees now. Each one has a part of Dronnel embedded in it. That's part of the magic that created it. IT was the Goddess' gift back to him for his sacrifices in the last battle with Diphath."

"Dronnel fought for the Sisters against Diphath?" Mave asks, looking surprised. "I thought you just dozed off during that terribly long ritual." It's certainly darker than when they started.

"No, I plane-walked to the land of the Gods, so to speak. And yes, I spoke with Rinala," Alptraum explains. "I saw Dronnel there; he was a mess of scars."

"We know he was a great warrior, but.. the rest seems lost to time," Mave notes. Then whispers, "The Avenger is looking at us."

"The ritual is completed," Cyprian notes. "However.." he then gestures to the pile of coils that is Rostre. "Mage Rostre has shut down for the evening." Summer is going about collecting the threads and weights from the ritual 'circle'.

"Then how are we going to get her home?" Alptraum asks as he looks at the inert snake," And did any of you learn anything from your ritual. I did."

"I'm sure she will tell us the results when she wakes up in the morning," Cyprian says. "I merely watched for any mental phenomena from the tree. Rostre is clearly staying the night."

"Are both of you also staying the night?" Alptraum asks. "Did you detect anything?"

"Alas, I am not used to dealing with such low levels of magic, so if something was stirred, it may well have been below the threshold that I could detect it," Cyprian says. "And I do not think it wise to leave Rostre here unattended, nor to risk Mage Forrest slipping on the way down the path."

"Mave, is there anything we can do to make their stay more comfortable? A tent? Some bedding? A small clay oven?" Alptraum asks.

"I can keep the Avenger warm," Mave offers. "But I can also procure some bedding."

"Cyprian, do you wish Mave to keep you warm? She is good at it," Alptraum notes.

"I will fetch some blankets," Mave says, raising her hood once more and managing to vanish into the maze of columns.

"Standing for several hours is not the same as hanging," Cyprian claims. "My feet were not made for this. And I assume the Lady lives here in this.. ruin?"

Summer finishes packing away the ritual implements into Rostre's saddlebags, and sits on a stone bench facing the garden.

"She lives where she lives. It is for her to say, not me," Alptraum says vaguely and waves his hands a little.

"This temple holds many mysteries still," Cyprian claims. He then turns to Summer, and tells the doe, "So you had best not wander, and remain close to Rostre."

"Oh, I don't plan to leave this tree unless I absolutely have to," Summer promises.

"Why do you like that tree so much?" Alptraum asks, "And can you find the embedded EEee part in it?

"There's an Eeee in there?" Summer asks. "Like a skeleton?" She seems a bit shocked at the thought.

"Some physical part of him. It was grafted into the tree when it was a sapling long ago by the Sages of Babel," Alptraum tries to explain. "What part ... I have no idea. All the trees should have them."

"Just.. some part?" Summer asks. "Of him? Is there.. anything more? I've never heard of anything like that. Well.. no, I doubt it's that. Those trees don't grow after all."

"Yes, some part. He was a patchwork mess, so it could be a toe, or a testticle for all I know," Alptraum admits.

"Well.. I don't think it works like that," Summer says, furrowing her brow. "You can't stick a piece of meat to a tree. It's not like grafting branches with magic. The closest is a very complicated Earth Magic spell that can turn a person into a tree and then back again. For medical purposes. I can see if something like that was done though.. I think."

"Dealing with spirits, mainly. I can move them, destroy undead things, and various stuff like that. I can also invade dreams with them," Alptraum ticks off.

"Hmmm, so nothing specifically that lets you look for body parts then," the young mage says, still focused on the tree. "I'll need permission from the priestess before I can try anything," she then notes.

Mave returns with several blankets, which she immediately hands off to Alptraum. "Yes, she can do her tree magic," she says, having overheard from a distance.

"What was it like meeting Rinala?" Mave asks Alptraum while the spell is being worked.

"She looked a lot like me; same eyes at least. And very kind," Alptraum says. "A little sad, perhaps, with what has happened to Babel, and that she cannot be in my life in any active way."

"Mmmm," Mave says. "She is nice, yes," she agrees, while watching the doe fondle a tree.

"I would say like a caring grandmother, but I don't know if that's right, nor do I know you would even know what that means," Alptraum admits as he too watches Summer.

This spell doesn't need as much time as Rostre's, since it's not worried about preserving any traces of old magic. After a few minutes she stops and opens her eyes, looking a bit blank for a moment. Then she starts all over again with (presumably) the same chanting.

"A mother's mother, you mean?" Mave asks Alptraum once it's clear that the deer isn't going to say anything yet.

"They can be very wise, and also very stubborn," Cyprian says. "Often manipulative and judgmental when it suits them. They are formidable. They also know how to prepare your favorite foods."

Mave raises and eyebrow but doesn't comment, since she's one of his choices, with Tulani being the other.

"I'm sure a grandmother would have gotten around that," Cyprian claims, and then Summer stops again and finally takes her hands away from the tree. She looks up into its branches and the Procession beyond and seems lost in thought.

"Well.. yes and no," Summer says, finally looking to the others. "I was wrong the first time," she explains. "I thought it was created with magic, but.. it wasn't. At least, I can't tell. It's really old. Way older than a tree this size should be. I need to go deeper than just a basic communion to figure this out."

"Magic was involved in its creation, somehow. But I don't know what," Alptraum admits. "Maybe get some sleep and try again in the morning?"

"Sleep?" the doe asks. "Oh! Yes, it's night now." She only then seems to notice the blankets and makeshift tent.

"We'll leave you two along," Mave tells Alptraum. "I want to show the Avenger something." She then takes Cyprian's arm and leads him off, without any resistance.

Alptraum waves to the tent to emphasize. He's about to tell Mave something, then watches them leave. "I wasn't planning to sleep here tonight," he admits and sighs.

Alptraum stares at the doe for a moment. "You are so sheltered," he remarks dryly. "I sleep lots of places, it just depends on where I am at the time.")

"Well, you're here," Summer points out. She's actually wear an odd combination of a dress and shorts. It almost looks like the overalls that farmers wear in Sylvania. Just frillier. "Are you going to sleep with me, or do you do your demigod duties at night?"

Alptraum ends up shrugging slightly. "I'll sleep here, you win," he concedes and heads over to the tent. HE doesn't really have any other clothes with him, so he just crawls in dressed as he is and flops down!

Summer keeps going until she's down to just some underpants, then crawls into the tent and just sort of curls up against Alptraum.

"Don't do anything weird to me, okay?" Alptraum requests. "No growing flowers out of my ears, or fondling, or trying to milk me, ro..."

"Flowers don't work like that," Summer claims, but does have to sit up and look at Alptraum oddly at the list. "Milk you? You can't milk males you know," she points out.

Alptraum sits up and stares at her. While he does, he focuses on growing a pair or breasts right there on par with what Mave has. Then he pulls his shirt up to flash her. Why? Because she deserves to be messed with. "Milkable," Alptraum insists, just to see how she reacts to that.

"Hey.. how come yours are bigger than mine?" Summer complains. "That's just not fair! You probably have softer fur too. Like all of my roommates!" She then flops onto her back again covers her head with her robe.

Alptraum grabs one of her hands and puts it on one of the aforementioned breasts. May as go all the way. "Judge for yourself," he insists!

"Aaaagh!" Summer complains, muffled as her voice may be. "They are softer. As much as I can tell, anyway. It's not my fault I've got short, moderately coarse fur! But I'm not flat!" she insists. "Springer just looks curvier because she is short!"

Alptraum lets go of her hand. "I'm also messing with you. I grew these just now, I don't normally have them," he claims and lets his shirt back down, but leaves the breasts there because it's easier to leave than push them back down for the time being.

"Is that how Mage Rostre got them?" Summer asks, still from behind her folded robe.

"Yes, because she's odd," Alptraum comments and flops back down onto the makeshift bed.

"There's nothing wrong with mine," Summer claims a moment later. "Perfectly normal for a Cervani my age." Then there's a definite yawn, and the robe is removed so she can use it as a pillow before curling up again.

"No, there isn't. You're normal, everyone around you is just weird. Get some rest, it'll; be better in the morning," Alptraum says as he yawns himself. "Goodnight. And remember, no milking."