Willow awoke still feeling a bit exhausted, but Mr. Bright was completely passed out. He did look happy in his sleep though. Since the Aeonian wasn't likely to wake up anytime soon, the mare was able slip off of him and clean up a little before getting dressed. She still felt a bit wobbly in her belly, but there weren't any physical signs of her ordeal in Inala's garden.

There were two guards outside of Mr. Bright's quarters when Willow was let out. The second one explains, "I'm to escort you to the High Priestess." For a Yodhrephath this one seemed less 'beefy' than usual, and actually had some feminine curves. She wasn't even wearing armor.

Willow looks the guard up and down. "You are new?" she asks, "You do not appear to be as ... trained as the others."

"I'm not technically Yodhrephath," the woman says, and gestures for Willow to follow her. "I'm just Yodh-adjacent. A specialist."

"In what?" Willow inquires. "You don't look like a torturer and that is what I would expect the specialists here to be."

"Well, it is.. hmm," the woman ponders as she leads Willow. "You're an Aeonian. You can purify poisons with your horn, right? But you aren't casting a spell like a mage would, or praying like a Yodh would. I'm assuming you aren't a mage or a Yodh for this. But I can do certain things naturally without being a mage or a priestess. I think the mage term is 'sport'. I have a magical ability that can't be used like a mage can use magic, and I can't learn magic."

"And your ability is which?" Willow inquires, now curious. "I've not heard of any Eeee like that before."

"I can see spells," the woman claims. "If they're created with magic. To me they look a bit like knots of colored string. If I study it long enough, I can usually figure out which bits connect to other bits and where to pull on it to unravel it. The Yodhrephath hire me to examine stuff they think is suspicious. And protect me from the Mages Guild if needed."

"Have the mages guild caused you any problems? And now I wonder what you see when you look at me," Willow admits, brow arched and well, a little worried.

"A very tall, black Aeonian mare," the woman says. "The Guild doesn't bother the Yodhrephath or Yodhsunala. And when I'm not doing my special work, I'm a cook here at the temple."

"And no spells or other oddities when you look at me?" Willow inquires. "That seems ... odd."

"Why would it seem odd?" the woman asks. "Like I said, I can see mage spells if I concentrate. I can't just see things at a glance. Do you have a spell on you that isn't your natural magic?"

"Well, no, but I would have thought i would appear odd, as we are naturally very magical, is all," Willow points out.

"I've never seen an Aeonian before, so in that sense you look odd," the woman says, as they pass a checkpoint and enter into the main part of the temple. Koldesh's office isn't far. "I don't know what to make you for lunch. You like bugs, right?"

"No, not really. We're vegetarians. We eat plants. But you do not need to worry about me," Willow says, "I won't be here that long."

"Though from time to time I have been known to eat Eeeee women," willow adds oddly, and gives the woman a sidelong glance. "What is your name, by the by?"

"I'm Zazzie," the Eeee replies. "And I don't know how to prepare vegetables. But Eeee women aren't vegetables either. So I'm guessing you're a vegetarian that gets bouts of binge protein cravings but you still want something that's crisp and crackly?"

"No, I was making a joke. You must be Yodh after all, no sense of humor," Willow comments a bit dryly. "This temple is only second to the Temple of Sunala in terms of lacking any forms of humor."

"Yodhrephath Shanna does shadow puppets and makes funny voices while she makes them," Zazzie claims in defense. The main office is empty when they arrive, but the side door soon opens and Koldesh strides in. "Ah, I was wondering when you'd show up," she says.

"Who? Me or her?" Willow asks. "I'm a black unicorn, I'm bad luck. I always show up when least expected."

"In Babel, it would be good luck that is least expected," Koldesh claims, and sits at her desk. There's a shallow pox on it covered with a cloth. "If she hasn't introduced herself yet, this is Willow," Koldesh says to Zazzie. "And this is Zazzie," she says to Willow. "And I'm Koldesh. Please have seats."

Willow pulls out a chair for Zazzie first, then for herself and settles down in it. "I was the bait that helped capture the pirates that also provided these," she explains to Zazzie.

Zazzie sits, slouches a bit and crosses her legs. "Ah, right, the chest. It was from pirates? Pirates?" she asks. "It was like a tangled fishing net of stuff. Alarms, a curse, and something that I think was meant to trace scrying attempts. I hate the ones that throb like that. And in purple too. That is my least favorite color to see in a spell."

"Purple to me usually means insanity," Willow comments offhand. "Not exactly my favorite either. And yes, Pirates, though they got them from some of the former Royal Mages. Yes, unfortunately some still live. You want a real headache, you could look in depth at the one in chains..."

"Eeeeh, I prefer not to mess with mages, especially professionally nasty ones," Zazzie claims.

Taking the cloth off of the box and setting it aside, Koldesh reveals three glass plates about the size an Eeee hand and card shaped, a 'blob' of regular looking Rughrat wool, and three small black rocks. "Is this everything you found, Zazzie?" Koldesh asks.

This means Zazzie has to get up and lean over a bit. "Yes. I didn't see anything attached to them, other than the packing material which was just old rags."

"May I?" Willow requests and gestures towards the glass plates. "Pick them up and examine them, that is."

"Well, that's why you've been invited," Koldesh says, and gestures to the items.

Willow picks on one of the stones, then one of the plates. The stone she sets on the table before her. The plate she holds, then picks up the wool. She peers at it for a bit, looking for dust or other dark material. Then, she just starts rubbing the glass plate with the wool.

The plate seems like clear crystal - much clearer than glass. But it picks up a static charge just as easily when rubbed with the wool. The fine hairs on Willow's hand can feel it. The charge itself doesn't seem bring out any change in the material though.

Willow holds the charged place slowly closer to the dark stone to see if it reacts at all.

Once it is within an inch of the stone, a faint blue tracing appears very briefly before the charge jumps to the stone. It looks like a bunch of circles and other shapes, but was too dim and transient to get a good look at. "I'll snuff the lights," Koldesh says, getting up to extinguish the rooms lanterns. It doesn't have any windows to shutter, at least.

"Also get me some paper to put between the stone and the plate," Willow requests. "I want to see if I can insulate it from jumping like that..." She also starts rubbing the crystal plate again with the wool.

While the room darkens, a piece of parchment is produced, which Zazzie holds over the stone while Willow recharges the plate.

Willow spends a bit longer rubbing this time before she slowly lowers the plate towards the covered stone. "I'm good at turning anything on," she jokes as she does so.

The darkness and the extra long charge help. The lines are still dim, and only seem to glow in the spot directly over the magnetite. They might be a map, but there are spots where the lines seems to fade out and lose connection. There are also times where a line might 'jump' to one side or the other depending on the angle to the stone.

Willow gets out the other three stones and stacks them together to see if they don't have to angle the plate so much. She also rubs the glass plate some more before trying to hold it over again. "Can one of you try to copy these lines while I get them to show?" she asks.

"I can try," Koldesh says, getting her quill and a fresh page ready. The Eeee may have a better view of the faint traceries. But they're dense, and the charge only lasts so long before it has to be built back up. But having all three stones does allow for more of the plate to illuminate at once. But even Willow notices some oddness in the way the lines often fail to connect. It takes some time to get a reasonable sketch done. Koldesh is not an artist.

"Right, that's plate one. Now lets do plate two," Willow says and pulls out plate two. She gives that one a vigorous rubbing before holding it over the stones. "The broken lines, I wonder if they represent where stairs are," she suggests, "and this is a three-dimensional map of levels..."

This plate seems to react the same, except the results are in yellow and do not look like a map. Instead of lines or shapes there are odd patches of cross-hatching, which seem to have different depths, orientations, intersection angles and sizes. "I can't copy that," Koldesh notes.

Willow sets that plate aside and tries the third one to see what pattern it reveals.

The third is more like the first, except that it glows in green instead of blue. It's subtle difference. It also has a more complicated layout than the first one, with lines more tightly packed and also showing apparent depth. If it has fade-out spots they are hard to make out in the confusion.

Willow stacks the three plates together and rubs them as one piece using the wool. "I wonder if they combine with color and the patterns to reveal something specific. It's a guess, but, maybe," she explains to the pair.

"How do we know which order they go in?" Zazzie asks. Since the charge is only on the surface, the middle plate should get barely any, but all three light up when placed over the stones. And they look.. garbled. There are colors that weren't present before, oddly shifting depth effects and patterns that look cloudy. The charge doesn't last very long though, running out faster than any of the previous single-plate tests.

"We try all possible orders," Willow suggests and goes about doing that to see if anything useful comes from it.

It takes a several different shuffles and alignments (thankfully the things aren't circles or squares - rectangles are a lot more obvious about alignment), but in the end the reward is something that seems to both extend past the bottom and rise above the top of the sandwich. It is definitely a map, and there's even a highlighted route. The size and layering of it (which includes some large open spaces) must be of a section of the Tower of Babel. But there's no legend to indicate which end of the route is which, but the end that rests near the center of the map is probably the destination. An accidental shift reveals that moving the top plate (which was the blue one originally) moves the whole map as well, so that it can be panned. That reveals an entry somewhere on the outer slope - which is covered with later construction now.

"Well now, there we go. Any chance you can copy this down to some degree?" Willow asks as she keeps re-charging the surfaces and restoring the map over and over to get a really good look at it. "This gives us a destination; I wonder what is at that central point they want so bad. And I bet that outer access can probably still be found; or close enough to a surface to be exposed relatively quickly."

"It would be in one of the royal villas I think, from the apparent height," Zazzie suggests. "But.. who was this supposed to be delivered to?"

"Koldesh, also do me a favor and ping the plates?" Willow requests, "It wouldn't surprise me if these also reacted to vocal pings of Eeee."

"I can't sketch something that's floating in the air like that," Koldesh grumbles, as her quill scrapes across a page.

"How many royal folk lived in the tower?" Willow asks. "And here is a time a Yodhinala would be handy, they train in arts, don't they?"

The two Eeee trying pinging and screeching at it in turn, until there's a loud knock on the door and the guard pokes her head in. "Is.. is everything alright in here?"

After dismissing the guard, Koldesh says, "I don't know how many lived there, but it was used by the Sabaoth and the nobles for various events, and some religious ceremonies. There must be someone left who knows about it."

"I suppose he would know of any secrets like that," Koldesh agrees. "Or at least know that there were secret passages the nobles used. And, presumably, the Royal Mages. Weren't they doing things in the Tower to do with the big dream thing a while back? I do know they handled certain things there, like the Sabaoth's immortality treatments and processing pirates."

"So if the Royal Mages had a headquarters or laboratories, that's where they'd probably be?" Zazzie asks.

"Did they? Not something I am particularly knowledgeable about. Now, the next big question is, can I take these with me, or do they need to remain here? I can hand them off to the Barsunala, whom I know can arrange a meeting with Thath," Willow says as she peers at the crystal plates curiously. "And I wish I had a lemon and some bits of metal, might be able to keep these things shocky longer."

"Lemons and metal?" Zazzie asks. "Can't you use your horn or something? I thought it was magic at first because it was.. well.. glowing colored lines, which would confuse me.. so I assume this is magic isn't it?"

"I'd feel better having them delivered someplace, or else having the Barsunala pick them up in person," Koldesh claims.

"Nah, static," Willow says and shrugs. "Haven't you ever shuffled on a rug and poked someone before?"

Zazzie looks down at her splayed, hand-like feet. "Shuffled? No, I don't usually come across rugs often enough to consider doing that."

"Rubbing glass can also make it do that, which is why I reasoned the wool was for fondling the glass and making it zappy," the Unicorn further explains. She then gestures to the rocks, adding, "And these are magnets! You can also get sappy with those and stick stuff, so figured they must interact somehow. And thus, do you see ... by combining knowledge of juvenile pranks, I have unmasked the villainous plan."

"Chitin blades against fur will cause it too," Koldesh claims. "If both are dry. Or if you fluff up a Fnerf and aren't being careful."

"How would an Aeonian know about juvenile pranks?" Zazzie then asks. "You're a million years old or something, aren't you?"

"I can suggest to the Barsunala to just come see you, if you prefer," Willow offers. To Zazzie she explains, "I've been a babysitter before."

"It would be better if he came and got them, yes," Koldesh says. "He's supposed to come and handle the mages anyway."

"Something like that," Willow admits to Zazzie. "And all right, I'll let him know to come then. He doesn't eat bugs either, by the way," she says to Koldesh, with the last bit being an aside to Zazzie.

"Does he eat girls then?" she asks. Koldesh raises her eyebrows at this and gives Willow a pointed look, made all the more sinister by there just being one candle lit on the desk at the moment.

"You'd have to ask him," Willow says and shrugs, then looks at Koldesh with sort of a 'What?' look.

"Well.. I should go see to the mages that I've kept waiting in another chamber, because I'm the High Priestess and I have to seem too busy and important to deal with them immediately," Koldesh says. She then takes the plates, wool and rocks to put them back in the box, along with her sketches.

"Well, I will, certainly," Zazzie says. "I need to see if my herbs have been tended in my absence." She then gets up and bows to Koldesh, nods to Willow, and makes for the door.

"How are our guests doing?" Koldesh asks Willow. "Besides the one that doesn't fit in his cell?"

"Mmm, reasonably well all things considered. None seem suicidal or particularly upset. Mostly bored, I suspect. The guards can be a bit grouchy but that's not too surprising," Willow explains. "Better than I would do in imprisonment."

"So not hearing voices or getting any murderous impulses?" Koldesh asks. "The whole situation has me on edge. I know the Guild Mages aren't our enemy, and I trust the Avenger, but Guild Mages also worked with the Royal Mages."

"None that they divulged to me," Willow says and nods as she rises now too. "The mages coming here weren't any of those, and I know they consider Babel their home too. I consider them trustworthy, for what it is worth."

"So long as they deal with any of their fellows who step outside that circle of trust," Koldesh says, and rubs her face as she also rises. "I assume the Barsunala will be by soon?" she asks.

Tree of Vengeance
The walls of the courtyard are high and solid, save for a single archway connecting back into the main temple. Even the top has been domed-over with petrified thorn branches. The dangerous canopy still lets in enough light to show the tree however. Its leaves are red, while the bark is gray where it isn't stained darker, and the branches are sturdy. At first glance, it looks like it is growing spikes from the trunk and branches, but these have been added, along with the many dangling ropes, some of which are decaying with age.

After the Mages split forces, with the Anti-Scrying Corps and others escorting Sprocket to a secure transport, there only three left behind to gather at the suspect Tree. Cyprian, Rostre and Summer - and a fourth that is reluctant to make eye contact with any of them: Wynona Windcaller.

The final member of the small cabal is Alptraum, the Barsunala. And a tea service.

"You're among friends, Yodhrephath Windcaller, don't be so shy," Alptraum comments as he shifts his clothing some; it always feels off when there have been major changes to his mass recently, and ends up feeling a bit weird.

"I'm a rogue mage," Wynona notes quietly to Alptraum, while Rostre circles the tree.

"No one cares here," Alptraum replies quietly to Wynona. "You'd be more noticed if you were a rouge mage, instead of a rogue one."

That makes Wynona blush. While Cyprian can obviously overhear things, he remains quiet and focused on Rostre. Summer seems a bit reluctant to approach the tree.

"There, now you're a rouge rogue," Alptraum teases and elbows Wynona a little. "The tree really gets its point across doesn't it? A real stickler for ritual."

"I haven't been here in awhile," Wynona notes. "This is probably my second time.. and only time actually inside the courtyard. Courtyard. I suppose that's more literal in this case. It reminds me of the old School of Earth on Rephidim in some ways."

"It hasn't been used in quite a while, or so I was told. Not a pleasant-looking tree, but that's not too surprising," Alptraum comments. "Can you sense anything at all from it?"

"I don't know if there's anything above the regular background magic," Wynona says. "But I'm terrible with non-elemental magic when it comes to sensing anything. There's definitely no Air, Water or Fire involved. Earth is.. fuzzy. But that's probably just me, because I've always avoided plants as much as I could." She taps her nose, and says, "Allergies."

"You are quite fuzzy, yes," Alptraum agrees. "Cyprian, what is your take on it?"

"Horrific," Cyprian says. "Earth magic does allow for shaping plants quite dramatically, but this would have been done over centuries due to religious devotion and.. intent. Even if the ceremonies have stopped, I do not know if it would revert to a normal tree over time."

"Too much blood," Summer says, shaking a bit. "You shouldn't feed trees blood. I remember the stories about the Pearl, where they said that trees became carnivorous or would actively hunt and strangle people."

"Fair observation. It was used to punish, and it shows. Do you feel anything from it now at all? A consciousness? Anger? The desire to knit socks? Anything at all?" Alptraum asks as he peers at the tree a bit more.

Cyprian frowns. "There is a lot of mental anguish layered up in here like sediment," he says. "Nothing conscious, just impressions of.. dying. Sometimes slowly and painfully. I don't know if anyone else would notice it without my experience."

"I could likely detect spiritual residue from it, and other impressions, but not what you note," Alptraum says and nods. "I know it's not comfortable being in here, but it is a necessity at this time."

"Lotssss of spirit resssidue," Rostre suddenly says, swaying her head back and forth and flicking her tongue. "Ritual bloodletting createsss carnoran. Thisss spot isss very potent for Spirit Magic. We mussst slither carefully."

"In other words, I should avoid trying anything here and leave it to the professionals," Alptraum remarks as he does at least try to sense various aspects, though mainly aura and spirit, his forte as it were from the shadow dragon and the like.

There is a bit of aura about the tree, but it seems to be reacting to Rostre as she continues to circle it and softly mutter.

"What she is probably saying is that you will need to be on guard," Cyprian tells Alptraum. "During the ritual, Rostre will not be able to react to any spirit manifestations that may crop up, and the rest of us are not much use against specters."

"You're exiting the tree, Rostre," Alptraum comments as he focuses in on that specifically. "Its aspects are quivering."

"That's a bit ominous," Wynona says. "I haven't heard anything about this spot being haunted.."

"Well, if the sink was active, it should have been transferring that energy," Cyprian notes.

"These trees, there are ones at every Temple, acted as energy sinks to send magical power to some unknown location. It's used to sustain rituals put in place by the Sabbaoth; rather nasty ones I should note," Alptraum explains to Wynona. "Something I uncovered recently. We've been trying to figure out where it was going."

"I daresay using your blood would be dangerous, yes," Cyprian says. "We have Summer if we need a donor." The Cervani does doesn't seem to be disturbed by that statement.

Wynona doesn't say anything for a while. "Yes, use her blood please," she finally mutters.

Alptraum puts his arm around Wynona's shoulders. "Yes, you're only what, twice her age at the most," he jokes and grins at Wynona.

"I like older women," Alptraum jokes and then lightly bites her ear. "Relax already, I said we're all friends here."

"Chalk," Rostre calls, holding out a hand. Summer snaps out of whatever she was thinking about and hurries over while reaching into the supply sack.

"I'm saving myself," Cyprian claims, as Rostre begins marking the walls of the courtyard with odd symbols. Although some of them seem almost familiar to Alptraum, as they resemble the sort of wards and charms against evil spirits that decorated the gypsy wagons (and plenty of other structures in Sylvania).

Alptraum slips his arm off Wynona and actually pays more attention. "Wards. Huh, I'm not a mage and I still recognize those symbols; I've seen many variations on that theme," he comments and folds his arms.

"I'm not familiar with them myself," Cyprian admits. "This is the first time I've seen them going up on a wall and not part of a circle."

"Ssspirits are sssuperstitious," Rostre claims as she keeps drawing the ancient symbols.

"It's more interesting to me that I've seen these in Sylvania, used by gyspies. A few of them anyway. Common threads, even without standard training," Alptraum further explains. He then proceeds to try and explain the ones he recognizes, and what they supposedly meant in Sylvania, from what he can remember.

The serpent then instructs Summer to set candles under each of the symbols, as she rummages through her supplies. "Chains.. chainssss.. I know I packed chainss.."

"So.. did they work?" Wynona asks Alptraum. "I can't imagine it depended on spirits believing they worked.. but, if they're spirits of people that were raised to believe they worked.. uh.."

"They worked," Alptraum agrees. "They kept zombies at bay, as well as banshees."

"Well, let's hope that holds true here for both cases then," Wynona says, as Rostre continues to set up her ritual. At the moment she's wrapping a paper chain around the tree, weaving it between the thorns. It looks like the sort made as a party decoration.

"Don't worry, you're plenty safe here, and you're a tough and butch Yodhrephath," Alptraum reminds.

"Tougher than that little chippy," Wynona mutters, sneaking a glare at Summer as she skips about setting things out for Rostre. This time there aren't any strings to avoid disturbing things, and the mages draw directly onto the stone tiles surrounding the tree. The pattern looks odd, with wavy edges, until it becomes clear that there is an inner and an outer pattern with a lane for Rostre to slither between them.

Alptraum leans over and whispers to Wynona while watching the ritual be traced out, "Why are you so grumpy? You're wound tighter than a Chronotopian clock."

"Because.. I never got much respect as a Mage," Wynona mumbles. "And even less as a woman. So that girl is just getting to me, and she doesn't even realize it. And I remember when I was that innocent. But never that disrespectful. Not that I wasn't flirted with or anything back then."

"Just so you know, you're here because I asked specifically for you," Alptraum whispers to Wynona. "All teasing aside, I trust and respect you, and wanted you to bear witness as both a mage and a Yodhrepath. If you really do not wish to be here, though, you can go. They won't do anything to endanger the Temple."

"No, I'm their only mage," Wynona says. "I need to be here and let the High Priestess know what happens."

All of the candles that Summer had laid out suddenly spark, give out loud pops and burst into flame. Or at least the wicks do.

Rostre then begins her circuit of the tree, shaking a phallus at it every so often that sprays out bits of blood (or rehydrated carnoran to be technical).

Wynona watches and then squints. "Alptraum.. Mage Rostre is a Naga, isn't she?" she whispers, switching to Babelite.

"All right, I just wanted you to be aware, that even if I am teasing you, I have the utmost respect for you and your skills," Alptraum notes quietly, "For what it is worth." His focus has to shift back now from the popping and his eyes narrow. "Okay, is the giant fake bloody penis really necessary?" he finally has to ask. Then he nods a yes in reply to Wynona. "But she's an odd one, why?" he asks in Babelite.

"She looks like she has.. breasts," Wynona whispers, as if she's saying something lewd.

"She does. I gave them to her," Alptraum replies and shrugs a little. "She wanted them."

"Why did you have a pair of breasts to give her?" Wynona then asks, looking confused.

"I can augment and change someone's physical form," Alptraum explains. "I could, for example, make you male, or turn you pink."

"I've already been pink," Wynona claims. "Is that some sort of Life Magic then?"

"I don't know what that is," Wynona says, and then squeaks in alarm when she glances back toward Rostre.

"I could even turn you into a naga if you want," Alptraum offers and then has to look back at Rostre.

The thorns of the Tree of Vengeance are shaking, and blood is oozing out of their sockets. It's not quite real blood though, but some sort of spirit manifestation. Rostre continues her chant as she follows her circle.

"It's a manifestation, not real. No need to worry. Besides, bleeding trees are a dozen for a shekel in Sylvania. Great for parties," Alptraum comments.

The thorns keep vibrating until the break free. They stretch out, with little handles held by spectral, boneless arms that just keep growing and growing.

"Well, that's new," Alptraum admits. He steps forward towards the tree and its thorny growths. He stops at a safeish distance and extends his own hand towards the tree, and then focuses inward on himself and to the Barsunala link and his own abilities to deal with spirits; to contain them, or entrap them, if he must.

The weaving thorn-blades do avoid Alptraum, but still keep extending out in the other directions. Even the smaller thorns on the thinner branches have small, thin arms holding them.

"You will not threaten anyone here," Alptraum pronounces, in both his normal voice, as well as a hollow raspy overtone. "Withdraw."

The tree's aura is ugly and angry. But it's hard to tell if there's any sort of intelligence behind it.. or just emotion, like Cyprian was sensing. The arms aren't all identical either, with most starting to look like Eeee arms. But Rostre is nearly to the far side, and the arms there are moving away from Alptraum and towards her. Unlike other spirits Alptraum has had to deal with, this one isn't seeking him out to be released.

Alptraum tries to extend his presence and produce a sort of 'shell' around the tree of himself, in a spiritual sense. It's ... like extending shadow, just applied to himself and the aura feeling instead of something more physical like shadow flesh. A wall so that the anger cannot get to, and harm anyone here.

The 'knives' begin to flail about, but stop reaching towards anyone. It's a close thing through, as the thorns lash just a few feet from Rostre, well over the inner magic circle. Alptraum can feel the strikes though, as if they were slashing at his wings - if not exactly painful.

Alptraum curls his fingers closed as sort of a visual reference to a more mental attempt to pull the shell inward, and make the thorns stay within the inner wall. "Striking me will gain you naught, I feel each blow of anger, and I shrug them off. I am the barrier, and the gatekeeper. I am the escort. You reside in my domain, and will obey my will," he continues on, disturbingly formal with the sort of dual-tone speaking continuing. Pity Koldesh isn't here to actually see Alptraum being what he's supposed to be, instead of the laid-back jerk he plays at.

The spirit still struggles. It's more clearly an amalgamation now instead of a coherent entity. Each 'arm' seems like a separate spirit, or rather fragment of a victim, held inside the tree for all this time. When they get forced back closer, some of them even start attacking each other. And when a thorn 'blade' cuts through an arm, it dissipates and drops the thorn it was holding.

"What are you wanting to do, Rostre?" Alptraum asks without his gaze not leaving the tree. "Are these necessary, or should I try to force them to the sea?"

Rostre is still chanting, and doesn't seem to have noticed the violent ghost-limbs. "Prevent interruptionsss please," she pauses to answer before going right back to her chanting.

Alptraum turns his hand upright. "Your anger is understandable, though some of you likely deserved your fate. I commend you all to the sea, where your anger can wash away in its tides, and so that you find rest," Alptraum intones. His hand twists as if opening a lock to allow the fragments through a doorway, to cascade down into some unseen 'sea' beyond. His brow furrows as he concentrates, focusing himself as a strong wind, an unrelenting force to push these fragments to the beyond.

To everyone else, it looks like the arms begin dropping from the tree like overripe fruit, and sink into the soil between the roots. There's also a rain-like tympani as thorns large and small fall to the ground.

"Commended to rest," Alptraum says as the arms and thorns fall, then he sighs. "And now none of you can look at me the same, I imagine."

"So you're an exorcist too?" Wynona asks, breathing a sigh of release when the manifestations vanish.

"Yes, bit I imagine at least two of you don't feel brave enough anymore to tease me back and treat me like a person," Alptraum points out.

"You aren't as stuffy as a typical Spirit Mage though," Wynona says. "Or as creepy."

"You only say that because you co-opted me into one of your fantasies. Nothing could be quite as weird as that was," Alptraum admits.

"At least they weren't full spirits," Wynona says. "Not.. ghost pirates. Or whomever they executed here."

"I fought ghost pirates alongside Blakat inside an intestine cave once, to claim their cache of candy coins," Alptraum admits, then rubs his forehead.

The candles sputter and go out. "I'm finished," Rostre says, and then immediately curls up and falls asleep.

"But ... you didn't tell us anything," Alptraum says and looks mildly frustrated.

"She needs to digest the results," Summer claims. "Like before. She's just slow about it."

"Or she just wants a nap," Alptraum comments and shakes his head. "Sorry for dragging you here, Yodhrephath Windcaller, without being able to give you any useful information," he apologizes.

"If the trace is weak, it can take awhile," Wynona says. "I once fell asleep trying to trace wind currents." She then yawns. "I'll watch until things are cleaned up," she notes. "Are you going to stay until she wakes up?" she asks Alptraum.

"Yes, I promised the High Priestess I would ensure the mages caused no issues, so I should remain," Alptraum says.

"I promise to demonstrate with you what Rephath asked of me," Alptraum offers Wynona, and then smiles the sort of smile that spells certain doom for the intended recipient. "That is, if you are curious about Her asks."

"Demonstrate?" Wynona asks, as she gets the attention of the attendant just inside the entry arch. "Is it a special ceremony or prayer for a blessing?" The attendant hurries off to fetch fresh tea.

Summer is still wiping away the chalk symbols from the walls, and swaying her hips as she swirls the rag for whatever reason. She might be softly humming something, but if so it's little more than a slight buzz to Alptraum's hearing - which means it's very soft.

"No, and it's not something you'd like, honestly. You're too innocent," Alptraum admits and shrugs a little. "I really shouldn't torment you so. He flicks his eads over more and focuses on Summer a bit to see if he can make out what she's singing to herself."

It seems to be just random humming, as if she's trying to go for an actual tune. The tempo is what remains consistent, and matches the sweeping and swaying motions. She actually stops once she finishes the area she's cleaning, then starts again on the next spot. Alptraum isn't sensing any magic that might suggest it was some sort of cantrip.

"What are you singing?" Alptraum finally has to ask. To Wyonona, he then comments as an aside, "Rephath had me tie her up and spank her."

Wynona pauses. "That isn't an official punishment that I'm aware of," she notes. "I don't think the Yodhrephath punish naughty children."

"Hmm?" Summer goes pausing to look at Alptraum. "I only since in a choir. I'm just humming. It makes tasks like this go faster, and I can't dance to it, which is important." Her ears go up just like Wynona's do, only the Eeee is the one who blushes. "Wait.. some people get aroused by humming, or listening to humming, or.. maybe I missed something? I tend to not pay attention to conversations I'm not a part of," Summer says.

"You missed something. I was talking to Wynona about spanking," Alptraum explains.

"Oh!" the doe says, and nods. "That makes much more sense then," she says, and then goes back to humming, swaying and cleaning. This time her tail twitches though.

"Why is your tail twitching," Alptraum now has to ask. HE also tries to feel out her aura, just because it might tell him even if she does not.

"Why would that make more sense?" the flustered Air Mage asks, and returns her to spot near Alptraum.

"I don't know?" Summer says, turning to look at where it pokes out of her pants. "Probably because I'm thinking about spanking now. It's hard to focus on two things at once. Or really it isn't, but my tail probably reacts because I'm not otherwise doing anything with it. It isn't really used in dancing or.. much of anything else."

"What, do you like spanking?" Alptraum now asks as his right brow arches up. He looks to Wynona and asks, "Are all mages insane?"

"I'd have to spend more time around normal people to answer that," Wynona claims. "Normal people don't usually hire mages though."

"I've never had to spank anyone," Summer notes. "I never considered it might be arousing. I wonder if that holds true for boxing then, or other activities where you hit things."

"For some, probably. Blakat gets off on hitting people," Alptraum points out, then shrugs again. "Of course if you want to find out if you do, Wynona might be willing to spank you."

"I am most certainly not willing to spank an adult, and certainly not a mage," Wynona claims, and wipes at her nose. "I'm just here to make sure you clean everything up properly."

Wynona looks to Alptraum, and asks, "Drain the tree? Do you know what she's talking about?"

"I can probably drain the tree myself," Alptraum comments as he heads towards it. "And you need to relax and try stuff once in a while, Windcaller. You'd be happier."

"What are you gonna try?" Summer asks, managing to wipe and look over her shoulder at the same time.

"Don't make me spank you for lying," Alptraum comments to Wynona. As for the tree, he sets his hand on it and tries to see if he can feel spirit magic in it."

It feels odd, now that the 'activity' has subsided - or else it may be cowed by Alptraum at this point. There's still spirit energy there, but it feels off. Not quite undead, but some sort of dead-spirit, if a dead thing could still have a spirit. It's also unfocused and spread throughout the tree.

Unsure of how exactly to do it, he fight tries to use the Barsunala aspect for moving spirits to try and move the energy out of the tree and hin front of those gathered. Why? He doesn't want to try and absorb anything he can't identify."

"I was going to try communing with it," Summer explains. "It's important to know how a tree is responding to its soil and environment."

The spirt is.. stretchy. It seems rooted though, unwilling to be pulled free. This time it really feels unlike a typical spirit, and more like thick sap.

"There's spirit magic in the tree that doesn't want to move. I'm not sure it's safe to commune with, though," Alptraum explains as he curls his fingers and rotates his hand as a visual way to represent trying to be more forceful in extracting the spirit.

"Oh, you probably shouldn't try to pull it out then, that could damage the tree!" the doe claims. "How is it on the ground, near the roots?"

Alptraum relaxes his 'grip' and tries to focus on the roots instead. "I don't particularly care if the tree dies; it's from a very evil man," Alptraum comments and shrugs, "But as you like."

Further out, where the roots spread, the spirit presence is much fainter. Especially where the roots branch out under the soil, as if the thinner parts carry less of it.

"It's down there, but fainter than the core," Alptraum says and steps back. "If you want to make out with the tree, Summer, feel free. I know how much your kind likes stuff wood."

"I'm not going to eat the tree," the doe claims, and finishes the washing of the walls. That still leaves the protective double circle on the paving stones, which she doesn't disturb as she comes over to the tree's bed and kneels down with hands digging into the soil.

"I could never understand talking to plants," Cyprian comments from his vantage point near the archway. "There's no mind in there."

"Probably, yes," Summer answers after a moment of thought. "Trees aren't good at eating living things, so it would likely be very awkward."

"I've met plants that will talk back," Alptraum comments to Cyprian. "The dryads near the Pantsu river in Sylvania, for example."

"Then there were the trees that tried to get me to commit suicide in the Disenchanted Forest," Alptraum adds.

"Sylvania, I take it?" Cyprian asks. "It must be something the soil of that realm. How could a tree influence someone to suicidal thoughts?"

"Plants communicate in lots of ways," Summer claims even as she seems to be in a trance. "They release chemicals. Some communicate distress, others are forms of attack or deception." After that, she starts sing-song chanting. It follows a similar cadence to her humming, but she doesn't wiggle her butt to it.

"Want me to spank you while she's busy?" Alptraum asks Wynona. "Or you?" he adds and looks to Cyprian.

"Only my father ever did that," Cyprian points out. "I did not enjoy it then."

"Alptraaaaaum," Wynona whines. "Can't you give me useful advice about.." and here her voice drops to an Eeee-whisper, "getting Captain Karada to invite me to have dinner with him?"

The fresh tea arrives then, and the attendant removes the old (now cold) teapot from the service.

Cyprian pours some tea, and looks interested in what advice Alptraum may render.

Alptraum arches his brow, knowing Cyprian could probably hear that too. "Tell him you have some matters to talk with him about, and be sure to do it around a mealtime," he replies in a whisper to Wynona. "It's a good reason to have a meal with someone and not appear suspicious."

"Oh.. that seems.. normal," Wynona admits, looking thoughtful. "Oh.. but then I have to have matters to talk to him about, won't I?"

Cyprian hmms. "I must now question all of the times someone has done that to me," he mutters.

"I'm sure you can find something," Alptraum points our. "Examples, changes to the ship that would make your effectiveness higher. Aside from hem going naked."

"Nudity would not make me more effective," Wynona squeaks. "I can't even do public speaking using that mental trick; I have to imagine everyone with bags on their heads instead. But.. it has to be something real to discuss and not.. that I just wanted to have dinner with him? I've never had a non-professional conversation with him!"

"You could ask him to give you a performance review," Cyprian suggests. "Explain your insecurities and how they eat at you in the absence of actual feedback."

"You use it as a pretense. It could even be something relatively trivial. Wanting to ask him for advice on how you could be more effective for them as a whole on a patrol. Which is basically what Cyprian just suggested too," Alptraum says.

"So.. make it personal on a professional level?" Wynona asks, and bites her lip while tapping the tips of her index fingers together.

"Quite. That way there's no real pressure for it to be more and things can flow more naturally," Alptraum says. "And really, the Avenger is a better person to advise you, he reads minds after all. I just cart dead people around."

Alptraum goes to get some tea for himself. After filling a cup, he takes a very long and quiet drink.

"Yes but I assumed women had tried to get close to you before," Wynona tells Alptraum. "It seems risky, but does sound like the best approach."

"Really? You think women have interest in me? Hah, no, none have ever actually approached me on their own accord," Alptraum coughs out after snorting some tea from that comment.

"Prettymuch," Alptraum says and shrugs. "I'm forward I suppose, but few, if any every approach me in that way."

"Well, of course, it would be.. obvious.. but.." the Air Mage starts, then sort of trails off. "Well, maybe it wouldn't be obvious. And I can't just assume that anyone who is being nice to me is flirting."

"I imagine that such things are rather subtle among Alptraum's community," Cyprian suggests. He clearly hasn't spent time with many gypsies.

"Come to think of it, men don't hit on me either," Alptraum comments. "And I mention that because Yodhrepath probably hit on you and you don't know it."

"What?" Wynona starts. "They treat me.. mostly like mages used to treat me. I'm physically as tough as I'm likely to get, but that still doesn't measure up against women who've been training since childhood. There might have been some.. suggestive noises.. from the airship sailors since. I'm not a skinny nothing like I used to be."

"I'm sure some of the Yodhrephath treat you well," Alptraum notes, and shrugs, "But I don't know, I'm not here day to day."

"And I could make you a lot stronger and more muscular; like the other Yodh, if you really want it," Alptraum offers.

"I don't really help with the temple stuff," Wynona says. "I'm only here when the airship is docked. I.. don't want to be like them that way, really. Just more confident and not so easily pushed around or made a victim. I think I've managed that much."

"Then why were you bothered when you said you wouldn't be strong like them," Alptraum points out. "You really need to decide what you want and be honest about it."

"I won't be physically strong like that, which puts me at a disadvantage when doing actual Yodhrephath stuff like fighting," Wynona explains. "But I can ride a Ptera or Rakhtor now and defend myself. I'm on active duty more than most Yodhrephath, and I have an important function. But I still feel.. intimidated, or clumsy, around the Yodhrephath. But being on the ship helps a lot."

"I could deal with feeling physically intimidated, as I said. Offer stands if you ever want it," Alptraum remarks and then shrugs his shoulders a little.

"Thanks for the offer but the whole point of my doing this was that I would be the one doing it, if that makes sense," Wynona says. "I honestly don't think I want to be on equal terms with the other Yodhrephath, because I don't want to fight like they do. I only have to impress myself. I'm working on that still."

"As you like. I guess I find it a bit frustrating that you're bringing it up, and I offer to help and you turn it down. It's sort of like you want to have something to complain about or feel inferior about," Alptraum says and shrugs again, then goes to get more tea.

"Yeah, that's probably it in a nutshell," Wynona sighs. "I always dwell on things like that. It's one of the flaws I need to work on. Being with actual Guild Mages again dredges stuff up. No offense, Mage Cyprian."

"None taken," Cyprian says. "I wasn't involved in the Zaharinee incidents, but you were exonerated. I don't think you should have been imprisoned while the investigation was going on though."

"The mages guild tried to kill me multiple times. Not surprised they would imprison someone, regardless. For me, I was just on a list of eliminate," Alptraum remarks dryly and sips from his cup again.

"Yeah, the Caroban Watch has a lot of bad elements," Wynona says. "And they can conscript any available mage to help them hunt someone down. But they were also infiltrated by Royal Mage sympathizers, which.. got me in the position I was in before joining the Yodhrephath. I was even more disillusioned with them than I had been before."

"Give people power and eventually most will abuse it. Give them absolute authority, and it's even worse," Alptraum comments, then looks over to Summer. "Will it take much longer?" he asks.

"Hmm?" Summer responds, and looks up. "Oh.. are you done with the tea? I need that pot."

"No, your examination of the tree," Alptraum comments. He grabs any remaining glasses to drain the rest of the tea into, then carries the pot over to Summer.

"It's corrupted," Summer explains, as she gets up and takes the pot by the handle. "It's the blood. It's just hanging around in there, probably because of that something extra that's not a tree inside. So, I think I can get it out. And into the tea pot."

"Oh. If it was blood, well, I can just suck it out. I'm a vampire," Alptraum jokes.

"Ooo, this is sort of like vampirism, but if the vampire only sucked the blood of people who had been tortured to death or were otherwise very cross," Summer says. "The spirit so bad it makes the blood toxic. Does that ever happen?"

"Yes, it's possible," Alptraum admits, "Common in undead, honestly. Would taste awful."

"Ewwww, I hadn't even considered the idea of zombie blood," the doe says, and shakes her free hand as if she had dipped it into something nasty. "Definitely need to get rid of it. So, can you do for me what you did for Rostre?"

"Oh, the one where you keep the tree from stabbing me while I work!" Summer elaborates. "Why, what other things have you done for her? Did any of them involve dancing?"

"And yes, I can watch for the tree trying to kill you," Alptraum adds. "That's much less personal."

"Thanks, the killing me thing is more important," Summer says, and then produces a stone knife from inside her robes. She starts stabbing at one of the knots where a thorn emerges, really trying to gouge through the bark.

"The symbolism of stabbing into the base of a protruding bit is a bit disturbing," Alptraum comments to Cyprian.

"Bloodletting from an infection site would seem fairly straightforward, I should think," Cyprian notes. "I'm sure there's nothing more to it."

"Oh, this tree is part Eeee, but it was arms that came out of these knots," Summer says. "It's not like I'm going after buds."

"Well.. bad sap.." the doe claims. After getting through the bark, she uses the thorn to hang the teapot, so that it can catch whatever comes out of the hole.

"Even bad sap can be spread on bread," Cyprian claims. "Old Babelite proverb about making do with what you have. Or what is leftover."

With her pot positioned, Summer sits down at the base of the tree and starts to chant again. It's clearer now why she didn't erase the circles on the floor: there's still some charge left in them that she's taking advantage of.

Alptraum moves his focus now back to the tree, making sure that if so much as twitches, he can shield the doe.

"Now I'm craving pancakes," Wynona complains. "With syrup, which is made from sap I think. Or molasses. I miss pancakes."

The tree is.. actually starting to twitch. Almost like there's a strong wind. It starts at the twigs, and moves inward. It even makes cracking and groaning sounds.

Alptraum extends his hand and closes his fist as he tries to bring back the shell he had before, to hold back anything from reaching the doe.

So far nothing is reaching out from the tree, or at least isn't pushing back against Alptraum's grip yet. The sap begins to trickle out of the hole Summer dug, and then it starts to pour - actually quite a lot like black blood instead of sap. It smells like the blood that pools at the bottom of a corpse.

Wynona brings her wings up and around herself, hunkering down so that only her eyes and ears seem visible.

"I was going to say ... if this smell is too much for either of you ... wow," Alptraum admits; he hasn't covered his nose. But then he did grow up in a land of swamp and death.

The larger branches are moving now, and the trunk is beginning to twist as well. They're slow, but the thorns seem to be vibrating. The ones on the upper branches are shrinking, but those on the trunk are starting to extend.

Alptraum clenches his fist. "No, no poking the mages, that's frowned upon," he remarks as his brow furrows and even his toes grip into the ground. His focus is now all on the spirit-barrier he held around the tree, trying to make sure none of the thorns can push through it.

One of the larger thorns actually falls out, leaving behind a pit of angry, seething spirit energy. Another one comes loose higher up, but the higher ones are smaller. Neither fall near Summer though. Bits of bark are also peeling away, held momentarily by the bloody sap before falling and dragging a streamer behind them.

"Maybe you should turn around, Windcaller," Alptraum suggests, eyes narrow, teeth bared, and fist clenched. "That is one mad tree and the remnants need to ... to the Sea with you, and oblivion." He tries to re-open that waterfall, the gateway that drains out to the Sea he is connected to.

The streamers of sap begins to evaporate into black mist under Alptraum's renewed effort, and black vapor begins to billow out of knots and other areas of bark. The sounds that accompany this are not the straining of wood, but screams as they might sound if slowed down to a hundredth normal speed. More bark begins to fall, raining down mostly harmlessly. A few of the large thorns burst into green flame, similar to the flames the Yodhgorphat would use to 'cleanse' areas of contamination.

"Yee, one very unhappy tree," Alptraum comments, holding his ground; he even takes a couple steps forward. "Not something you want at a party..."

The upper branches seem thorn-free now, and some on the thicker branches are visibly being drawn back into their knots. The tea pot is about to overflow, which will probably be noticed by Summer if it happens, since she's nearly under it. Where the thorns have vanished, the wooden thrashing has stopped. The trunk is beginning to bulge around the level of the drain hole though, as if all of the fluids have been squeezed towards that region.

"I have a feeling that knot is about to pop like a gigantic pimple and bathe Summer in goo," Alptraum says to the room and quickly shuffles to the right to hopefully be out of the way.

"Wait.. it's going to what?" Wynona asks, and then shuffles to the side as well.

Sure enough the hole begins to gush, overflowing the teapot. It does hit the doe, but there's a lot of black smoke before whatever is left makes it through Alptraum's barrier. The ground is also shaking a bit, as the roots may be twitching now. The teapot finally falls as well, but not from the overflow: the thorn it was hung on has shrunken too much. Some of the leaves begin bursting into flame as well, but burn out before they can reach the ground. It almost looks pretty, like a swam of very large green fireflies. But soon the leaves are exhausted and the last chunks of contaminated bark fall away. What's left is a denuded tree with long strips bare of bark.

"Told you," Alptraum asides to Wynona. His hand is still clenched, and he's keeping most of his focus on the barrier he's holding around the tree to try and keep everyone safe from the Tree-Tantrum. "I can safely say this is a first for me."

"Squeezing goo out of a tree trunk is certainly not a common occurrence," Cyprian agrees. Poor Summer is drenched into the sticky stuff, but doesn't seem to have noticed yet as she continues her spell. But there's no longer any pressure against Alptraum's barrier, and the sap has stopped flowing.

Alptraum's hand slowly relaxes, then he lowers it when it seems like the tree isn't going to attack again. "She is going to need a bath, and she'll probably smell like that for a week anyway," he laments.

"I've never seen a bath here," Wynona says. "I don't know if the temple has any." Which shows that Alptraum knows more about the private parts of the temple than Wynona does.

"Where is it?" Wynona asks. "She probably needs to be soaked just go get her robes unstuck from her at this point."

"It must be for the higher ranks," Wynona says, daring to sniff the air. "How do you know about it?"

"Because Koldesh allowed me to use it once," Alptraum notes and gives Wynona a look. "I'm one of the higher ranks, you know."

"Oh.. right, I forgot you were the Barsunala for a moment," Wynona says. "Or rather, that you're part of the Babelite religion as a result."

"Ewwww..." Summer says, coming out of her trance and holder her arms out to try and flick away some of the sap.

"Well, you were rather close," Alptraum notes to Summer, "Surely you're used to goo, though." His attention switches back to Wynona and he comments, "Not that I generally care, just noting it as why I was allowed to use it."

"You'll have to ask Koldesh to use one," Alptraum says. "Or ... er ... well, there might be another way but I really don't want to."

"A big bucket of soapy water?" the doe asks, still in her spread out I-don't-want-to-touch-myself pose.

"No, this," Alptraum says, and sighs. He extends his right hand again and with disturbing speed, engulfs the doe with hundreds of writhing shadow-tendrils, turning her into some sort of demented, shiny, mummy. Feeling defeated, he tries to use the shadow to extractconsumeremove the goo. Which means he'll probably taste it.

It tastes disturbingly sweet, along with a bit saltiness that's probably from Summer herself. There isn't any foulness - that was burnt away by the barrier he had set up. There's also a component that might best be described as waxy, or at least what Alptraum imagines wax might taste like. The sweetness isn't exactly pleasant though: it's not like honey or sugar.

"Bleh," Alptraum mutters as he carefully strips away all the goo he can before drawing the shadow tentacles back. "Yes, I'm a living tentacle monster," he admits, "And I think I might throw up."

"At least it hadn't soaked into anyplace I haven't washed," the doe claims, still uncertain about moving or lowering her arms. "Did it actually go into your stomach? There.. there wasn't still blood in there was there?"

"No, it was just disgustingly sweet. Like a putrid meed," Alptraum admits as he walks over to a wall, then leans back on it and slides down until he's sitting. Legs drawn up, he buries his face between his knees and just rests until the sensations of the taste pass.

Eventually Summer makes her way over, still moving as if she feels sticky, and pats Alptraum on the shoulder. "Thanks for watching over me. And for the.. bath. It was very memorable."

"No, it doesn't go into my stomach, but I still get to taste it," Alptraum explains and then looks up. "I'll be fine, I'm just trying not to vomit. It's not as bad as eating solid food, but it's close."

"Do you want some salt? I should have a little salt-lick in my supply bag," Summer offers.

"No, I already got to taste your salt," Alptraum admits. "I'll be fine in a few. I may have broken Windcaller, though."

"I'm fine!" Wynona claims, still wrapped in her wings. "Pancakes.. think of the pancakes.." she mutters to herself.

"You don't sound fine, and I didn't even give you a full body lick," Alptraum retorts, then groans.

"I'm sure that was much more efficient than a bath would have been," Cyprian notes.

"I still want a bath," Summer claims. "But.. the tree should recover now, and not be a source of angry ghost vibes anymore."

"You'll have to petition Koldesh to use the bath here. She'll probably allow it since you helped but that's just my opinion. Windcaller, can you try to summon her here?" Alptraum asks.

"Summon the High Priestess?" Wynona asks. "Uh.. sure, I can probably do that. You still need to clean up those ritual circles though!" She then heads back through the archway into the temple.

"Ugh, why were you sssso noisy," Rostre says as she stirs, her head rising up from her coils.

"One of you needs to clean the circles," Alptraum says and rests his head again. "I don't want to move at the moment, I still feel nauseous."

"I'll do it, of course," Summer says, and is soon on her hands and needs, humming tunelessly while she scrubs away the chalk.

"I admire her energy," Cyprian notes, before turning to Rostre. "Do have the results already?"

"About time you woke up, Rostre," Alptraum comments from the floor. "Did you learn anything useful?"

"Eassssier the sssecond time," Rostre claims and stretches. Then she points back towards the city, and down at an angle. "Definitely in the Tower, below ground level," she says.

"Could Dronnell actually be buried there?" Alptraum asks. "Does it seem like it is going to a tomb?"

"I haven't been to any Babelite tombsss," Rostre notes. "Something isss there though that hasss a link to Dronnel though. I will be able to pinpoint it better with a third test, unlesss there are plans that reveal the layout of the Tower."

"We have sort of a map, but it sounds like a third test would be a good idea anyway," Alptraum says, "I'd like to be very sure. When I'm not going to barf a pot of tea, I can probably show you the map we do have."

"All right, so map, and then the third test to be absolutely sure," Alptraum agrees. "I just need a little rest first."

"No, I can't leave, I am required to remain here with you. I promised Koldesh," Alptraum explains and waves his hand. "Just continue on, I'll just .... sit here."

Cyprian actually helps with the cleanup, which looks odd. He isn't the type to easily picture down on hands and knees with a damp cloth. Rostre is still a bit sluggish though, so isn't much help. It's Cyprian that recovers the teapot. "The kitchen staff will not be happy with us," he notes. By the time things have been cleaned up, Wynona returns with Koldesh, who immediately covers her nose. "Smells like a corpse-flower salad in here," the High Priestess comments.

"Almost what it was. The tree exploded, sort of. I stopped most of the goo, but the smell will take a while," Alptraum explains. "And yes, I'm fine, thank you. Just nauseous from having to eat that goo," he adds with more of an annoyed grumble.

"You want something strong enough to kill the aftertaste then?" Koldesh asks. "And little doe, you smell the worst of all."

"Carry the doe?" Alptraum asks, "She's the one that needs a bath. As for how much, better than I was a few minutes ago."

"I meant carry you," Koldesh replies. "The girl seems to be getting along fine. But you're all for the bath and laundry. Even you Windcaller."

"I doubt they want to bathe with me, but you can carry me if you want to," Alptraum offers. "I've always wondered how it would feel to be carried off."

So Koldesh scoops Alptraum up in her arms, and sort of cradles him rather than tossing him over her shoulder. "Everyone follow me," she says, and heads out of the atrium.

"Sexy," Alptraum mutters and wraps his arms around her neck and buries his face there too. The movement is just enough to hide the forced suppression of the tea that just tried to come back up. Barfing on the High Priestess is likely not going to be terribly endearing, so it's a good thing he stopped it just in time. And gives him some time to appreciate how muscular she actually is, it may be bleed from other forms he's had, but ... a strong partner is a nice thing...

Being carried like a child was a novel experience for Alptraum. It was very comfortable, for one thing. It also meant he wasn't having to dodge a slightly wobbly Rostre. When he finally set down next to the bathing pool, Koldesh gave each member of the group an authoritative glare, and said, "Right, you all stink of death. Leave your clothes in that basket so they can be laundered, then get into the pool and wash thoroughly. There's soap in that white bucket. Only use the red ones for dowsing and rinsing off."

"Yes, Mom," Alptraum remarks a bit dryly as he starts to disrobe. At least he's not nauseous anymore! Bit by bit he tosses his clothing into the basket, then after a couple hops, he cannon-balls himself right into the pool!

Summer is the next one in, as she was the goopiest. Rostre takes up a lot of space and sloshes the water, while Cyprian barely causes a ripple. Last is Wynona, who has her wings wrapped around like a towel. "I didn't even get splashed with tree-blood," she grumbles.

"We need one of these at the Guild Hall," Rostre declares, forming a scaly island in the center.

"Embarrassed?" Alptraum asks Wynona and splashes her a little with the water. "You don't have anything I haven't seen before."

"This somehow feels worse than after the Lalee-Papu incident," Wynona squeaks. "I wasn't awake when I lost my clothes for that, and I wasn't surrounded by naked people."

Alptraum swims closer to Wynona. "You're surrounded by naked people all the time, they just have clothing draped on," he points out, grinning.

"It's less apparent here than it was at the Temple of Inala though," Wynona claims. "I don't need to scrub, I didn't get any on me."

Cyprian has found the soap, and is scrubbing the top of Summer's head. Having hard, fairly insensitive fingers probably makes scrubbing yourself a hazard.

I'll scrub you," Alptraum offers. "When's the last time you had your back and wings washed?"

"Me? I.. do a dry wash.. on the airship.." Wynona squeaks, trying to pull her head down into her wing-cocoon. "I haven't had a bath in.. a while."

"Yes, scrub her back," Koldesh interrupts. "Then she can get yours. The sooner you're all clean the sooner I can change the water out. So I can get that horse washed."

Alptraum rolls his eyes. He makes his way lazily through the water over to the soap bucket and grabs some. It's them back to Wynona, where he lathers up his hands and then grabs the top of her head and one ear. "Well, it's time you got one, then," he notes.

"Don't get it in my eyes!" Wynona pleads. Her hair definitely could use some conditioner. Apparently it's the sort that defies the efforts of brushing.

"Oh relax, or I'll bite you," Alptraum tells her. Then he's off to scrubbing her down and lathering her up to look like a dandelion gone to weed. "You are way too tense and nervous, no wonder you're all gray," he jokes.

"I'm not always nervous," Wynona claims. She's still 'lean' compared to other Yodhrephath, but she's got a lot more muscle definition than the typical mage. "Only when I'm embarrassed. Or feel threatened. You know I've gone up against other mages in.. well, not combat exactly, but I've out magicked them. Nobody ever remembers the heroic stuff though. It never overshadows my screw-ups."

Alptraum also starts to cheat, by using shadow tentacles to gather soap and get under Wynona's wings to scrub her all over, even if she refuses to lower them. "I'm aware, which is why I find this behavior silly. You're among friends, and no one will hurt you here. Or am I really that scary?" he asks.

"EeeeeEeeee!" Wynona squeals as the shadow goes to work. "N-no, I'm just shy!" she blurts. "Can you feel through those.. pseudo-thingies? They're a bit cold!"

"I can some, yes," Alptraum agrees as he continues the scrubbing without so much as a pause. He then spins her around and looks at her, and tries to get her to look up in his eyes. "I will not harm you, nor will I try to have my way with you," he says calmly.

Wynona definitely looks up. "I know that, but.. that doesn't make it easier," she claims. "I'm not good at relaxing. What if the Captain finds out? I.. don't know if he'd care or not, actually. Which also worries me! I think I want him to care. But he's also Babelite."

"Finds out you had to bathe after a disgusting magical mis-adventure? I don't think he'd care," Alptraum remarks wand rolls his eyes, and continues scrubbing. "I'm only helping because you were just curling up into a ball."

"And Cyprian and.. uh.. that Earth Mage girl.. have no qualms at all," Wynona points out. "And Rostre can probably just shed her skin. But.. I wish she'd cover up with something. I feel out of my league."

"In terms of what?" Alptraum asks as he finally lets go ... so he can get a red bucket and rinse Wynona's head off.

After she sputters a bit, with just her nose sticking out of the wet hair covering her face, Wynona says, "They look girly. Especially the Naga. The doe is too cute."

"And you do not look girly?" Alptraum asks as he brushes her hair out of the way. "You look like a girl to me."

"It's not that, it's.." Wynona says, as she tries to think of something to sum up all of her anxieties. "So, I always wanted to be liked for my skill. Because I figured the rest of the stuff wasn't important. I'm a mage, so it's not like I thought about romance before. It's something new and scary. I didn't deal with all this when I was a teenager like everyone else."

"Neither did I," Alptraum points out. "I had terrible luck when I was younger. Anyway, you're cleaned off now," he says, then moves away so he can work on lathering himself up, including his hair.

"Thank you," Wynona says. "Oh, I'm supposed to get your back. I've never washed anyone's back before."

"You don't have to, I can get my own. I don't want you to freak out any more," Alptraum notes, then uses the shadow tendrils to try and scrub his own back.

"Koldesh told me to though," Wynona says, "I can do the shoulders and hair if you want. You've got long hair."

"If you want to. I don't want to cause you any more stress; I know I just caused a lot," Alptraum notes, and shrugs.

"You didn't cause it, I just generate it internally," Wynona claims, and lathers up her hands before soaping up Alptraum's hair. At least she doesn't pull on it, and seems to be focusing on doing it right. But that means she's sluicing it from an inch out from his head down to the tips, in small bunches.

"You can touch me, you know," Alptraum notes. "People don't just drop dead form touching me. Usually."

"Oh, I'm just not use to doing this when I can access the full strand," Wynona apologizes, and tries scrubbing Alptraum's scalp as well. This is familiar to her at least. "Your hair is better behaved than mine," she notes.

"You should grow your hair out longer, Master Cyprian," Summer notes, where she washes the tall Eeee's back. Although his expression remains neutral through it.

"One of the few highlights of being me, I suppose?" Alptraum quips as he works on sudzing up his front and such since the back is being taken care of. "Why should he?" Alptraum ends up asking Summer. "Have a thing for guys with long hair?"

"It would look better for standing on top of ruins, backlit by the Procession as it blows in the wind," Summer explains in detail. "Maybe with lightning in the background."

"Brooding on architecture isn't all that," Alptraum comments. "I've done it. No one cares. What works in romance novels ... not so much in real life."

"That's where I've seen that!" Wynona blurts. "Those weird romance novel covers. The really lurid looking ones."

"It's a classical theme in art," Summer claims. "There aren't enough interesting portraits in the Guild Hall."

"You want a lurid one? Try 'The Sylvanian Heresy' sometime," Alptraum offers. "Some crazy scientist read that one so many times she wore the pages thin. And don't even ask about how she decorated her bedroom."

"There aren't any portraits in the Guild Hall," Cyprian notes. He then looks to Alptraum and asks, "Was it about seductive zombies?"

"And vampires, and an undead slug," Alptraum tries to remember. "I only skimmed it when I was stuck in that castle for a night. People have weird fantasies."

"Wait.. a castle?" Wynona asks. "What sort of castle has romance novels?" Wynona asks, and washes behind Alptraum's ears.

"The ones owned by mad scientists and deformed skreeks," Alptraum explains, then lightly swats at Wynona with his wet ears.

"A member of the Promethean society," Alptraum answers. "Like a mage, only crazier."

"But not a witch or hedge wizard," Rotre points out. "They study nature and its laws. Well, the normal ones do. I don't know what drives some crazy. Not my field. You'd have to ask Cyprian."

"I imagine, as with any scholarly endeavor, they are driven mad trying to raise the funds for their research," Cyprian offers.

"I've met three. The one that collected romance novels, one that collects lightning, and one that collects bones and lives in a giant bone throne," Alptraum explains. "And oh, yes, Countess Rosalind Draco. She was a member before she had to return home and rule."

"Oh, I think I've met her," Wynona says. "Well, not formally, but it was at some event or other. She was.. rather upset with the Marquis."

"Wow, you actually know heads of state?" Summer asks, but it isn't clear who she's addressing.

"I'm ... engaged to her," Alptraum admits. "And yes, she is mad at him; because they killed her first husband by luring him out for a diplomatic meeting, then beheading him."

Wynona's stops washing Alptraum's hair for a moment. "Oh, right, that's what she was saying.." she says. "The Boomer fell soon after so.. I suppose I didn't remember things clearly."

"Who goes around beheading people?" Summer asks in shock. "Oh, the Marquis of Gallis? Don't they all end up getting beheaded too?"

"Why would you remember? It wasn't important to you at the time, just a conversation among many," Alptraum points out. "Well, if he doessn't get turned into a hog first. That's Rosalind's preferred way of dealing with those of Gallis that try to bother her lands."

"How do you turn someone into a hog?" Summer asks, and possibly digs in a little too much on Cyprian's back the way he stiffens. "I mean aside from the obvious way of feeding them to one."

"Hogs don't eat people," Wynona says. "I'm pretty sure they don't, at least. I've only seen the little ones though. Yiffles."

"Magic. Rosalind is extremely powerful in magic, and her birthright and position gives her access to considerable extra reserves," Alptraum says, "And Sylvanian hogs absolutely eat people."

"I was never that keen on bacon anyway," Wynona says, as if now swearing off of pork products entirely.

"Wow, they must be huge," Summer says. "So what happens after she turns people into hogs?"

"I'm not sure that is something you should be wondering about, Miss Forest," Cyprian notes.

"What is wrong with you?" Wynona asks Summer, actually turning to look at her. "Are all Earth Mages so morbid?"

"Actually I'm interested in the sort of fertilizer you can make out of dragon dung," Summer claims. "And the color could affect the sort of bile it produces."

"I'm not morbid," Wynona claims. "I help fight pirates. And.." She trails off, getting flustered.

"I had Wynona locked up once," Koldesh says from where she leans against the wall. "Rephath's orders. To keep her out of trouble."

"What sort of trouble would she get into?" Alptraum has to ask. "And did she enjoy being locked up?"

"She did not enjoy it," Koldesh says. "We were trying to lure her friend in, and it worked. Rephath got.. what she wanted. Windcaller was let free. I'm sure she doesn't hold a grudge. I'm pretty sure grudges against Rephath aren't allowed."

"I do not hold a grudge," Wynona says, and sounds sincere. "I owe Rephath for rescuing me."

"I don't know, I think they're allowed. I can ask her sometime," Alptraum comments and shrugs.

"Grudges are pointless," Summer claims. "I had a grudge against.. someone.. when I was younger. I think it had to do with a piece of cake, maybe? I don't quite remember."

"I hold plenty, but then I deal with some really nasty folks," Alptraum remarks, then fills the red bucket and dumps it over his head to rinse off.

"If we mammals are all clean now, I suppose we have to scrub Rostre," Cyprian notes, not looking pleased about it. There a lot of Rostre after all.

"Why do I have to scrub her? I gave her boobs," Alptraum points out and sighs. "Come along Yodhrephath Wallflower," he comments to Wynona and gestures for her to follow.

"I could whip up a zephyr to.." Wynona starts to offer, then bites it off. "Actually I should save that for drying."

"Then you get to scrub them," Cyprian notes. "Someone wake up her up." The Naga is apparently dozing, her nose kept above water thanks to her floatation devices.

"Does soap work on scales?" Wynona asks, as the Naga snorts and nearly sucks Alptraum's finger in deeper. Then she's looming upwards. "Guh?" she goes.

Alptraum pulls his finger back. "Good, you're awake. Bath time," Alptraum declares, then starts rubbing the naga down with soap.

"Eh? I get to give you all a bath?" the groggy Naga asks, and then starts to coil around everyone with her tail to pull them in. "That smells funny," she then claims of the soap. Although it's probably more tasting than smelling for her. She doesn't mind the odors of her lab after all.

"No, we're bathing you! Hold still you giant oddball," Alptraum complains as he struggles with the snake.

Struggling with a serpent just makes her hug more, but at least with her arms this time. "Wait.. what? It's waaarrm let me just soak it up more," she babbles. "It's not time for to shed yet."

"Quick, scrub her while she's distracted!" Alptraum tells the others and flails.

The only one to really respond to that request is Summer, is tries to hang onto Rostre's back with one hand and scrub with the other. The two other Eeee are busy trying to free themselves from the Naga's tail.

"This is ridiculous!" Alptraum declares and stars using shadow to try and immobilize the naga! From the inside.

"Glorb?" Rostre responds, and looks confused. But this seems to wake her up, as she looks more and more.. thoughtful. "Interessssting," she finally says.

"Being moved like thisss," Rostre says. She actually relaxes, making it easier to get her to release the others. "Fassscinating."

"Don't be weird," Alptraum admonishes as he pulls shadow back once the others are generally free. "You're creeping me out."

"Weird? I am perfectly normal," Rostre claims, and crosses her arms under breasts. She lets her tongue loll out for longer then necessary before pulling it back in as well. "Soap isss foul, how do you tolerate it?"

"If you lick it, it is. Don't do that," Alptraum points out and now tries to work on soaping the serpent up more. "The sooner you let us finish, the sooner it is over."

"I'm not licking it," Rostre claims. "I do not lick thingsss." Her tongue flickers out and back in as she says it though. But she does stand still. "What do I need to do?"

"I can do that," Rostre claims, and then spreads her arms out as well. "Explain to more about thisss ritual," she says. Cyprian and Wynona move in, taking on those arms.

"It's not a ritual, it's just to make you not stink," Alptraum explains and sighs. "It's to get clean from the horrible smell the tree made."

"Well, you smell with your nosesss, sssso it may be different," Rostre concedes.

"Quite," Alptraum agrees while lathering up her chest and head. "So ... just put up with this and it will be over quickly."

Summer has climbed up enough to get to Rostre's head, which causes the Naga to get an odd(er) expression. "I can actually feel the fingersss."

Wynona still looks away as she works, seeming to focus more on the Naga's talons. "So much chalk build up," the Eeee notes.

"All headss are hard," Rostre claims. "It isss to keep the spirit from leaking out."

"A slug's head is not hard. Nor is a worms," Alptraum points out. "Must you always be contrary?"

"They are not known for being ssspirited," Rostre points out. "That isss why they are so ssslow all the time," she claims. It's hard for Naga to grin.

"Keep it up and I'll stick soap in your nose," Alptraum threatens as he waves a bar at the naga's nostrils.

"I am not answering that. You are impossible," Alptraum growls and bounces the soap bar off her nose. He suds up a bit more, then goes to get a rinsing bucket.

At least she smells like herself now, even if she probably 'tastes' funny. "My fingers are sore," Wynona complains. "We needed a wire brush."

"The School of Chaos held a seminar on them at one time," Cyprian tells Alptraum. "There were not many survivors."

"I don't know," Cyprian says. "I did not attend. Such things are usually rather pedantic and bogged down in minutia. And there is a bit of Chaos involved. Never try the concessions at a seminar put on by Chaos."

"It sounds entertaining," Alptraum admits as he unceremoniously dumps a bucket over Rostre's head.

"Oh, I'm sure it was entertaining, until the pun-dueling began," Cyprian claims.

"And with that, I think everyone is clean," Alptraum says as he quickly moves away from Rostre in case she tries to grab him.

"Are you ssssure you don't need to rub them more?" Rostre asks Alptraum. Wynona covers her ears.

"So, if we're ready to get out, I can work on a spell to dry us off," Wynona offers.

"Is it safe?" Alptraum has to ask as he climbs out of the pool and grabs a towel for himself.

"Well, you were just exposed to a bunch of weird magic and embarrassment," Alptraum points out to Wynona.

So Wynona takes one of the towels and.. turn her back to everyone before using it. "It's just that it could take a few towels for the Naga," she claims.

"No one here is going to laugh at you, Windcaller," Alptraum points out. "I'm nothing to look at either."

"I'm not looking to confirm that," Wynona claims. "Got to.. maintain some mystery!" The water level goes down significantly once Rostre heaves herself out.

"Your clothes should be ready soon," Koldesh says. "We're very good at getting out bloodstains."

"It was either Wynona, or Summer, then. I'll just have to turn both into hogs," Alptraum remarks and sighs.

"Well, at least she's used to having hooves," Alptraum growls, though not terribly threateningly.

"What?" Summer asks. "Oh right! I forgot! You need to be more broody and stand on architecture at night in the wind!"

"Noooo," Summer says, still hiding behind Rostre. "It was only a swat! You're supposed to just swat me back!"

"I will. The when, though ... remains to be seen," Alptraum laughs. "All right, well, I think everything is done here. so .. clothing and we can all go home."

"And I can wash down my new roommate," Koldesh says. "Clothes in the nest room. Deer-girl's robes may not be spotless, but they'll be less stinky and sticky."

"Are you really moving that horse in with you? If you sleep with him, be careful. They're ... large," Alptraum warns Koldesh as he heads in the direction of the next room.

The is a servant who doesn't seem to be an acolyte waiting with the laundry. It's not entirely dry or folded.

"Probably. I'm sure Wynona here would share a room with you if needed," Alptraum suggests.

His clothes are there, just a bit wrinkly but still the same color they started out as. They also smell a bit chemically. The Yodhrephath must use some sort of special bleach.

"Ah, much better than that ssssoap ssssmell," Rostre says as she gets her poncho back on.

Alptraum pulls on his clothing and sighs, glad this day will be done soon; the mages are like herding children. "We just need to examine one more tree, and corss-reference with the map we have and we'll know exactly where things are, I hope," he comments.

"Either one at Mount Blakat, or Mount Gorphat, most likely. Maybe Mount Sunala. I'll have to see who is most amenable," Alptraum says

"At least those temples aren't abandoned," Cyprian says. "Although I couldn't say which would be best."

"Do you have a preference, regardless of which would be best?" Alptraum has to ask.

"The Temple of Gorphat," Cyprian offers. "They have the most accommodating reputation at the moment."

"We've already used Inala's tree," Cyprian says. "If the old rivalries still hold, using Gorphat's for the final reveal will increase our statue with her."

"Do you really want to poke at that rivalry?" Alptraum asks and sighs. "I will see who is most amenable to it. No promises."

"I leave it to your discretion," Cyprian agrees. "You're the one with the.. ah.. connections."

"Unfortunately true," Alptraum agrees. "I can introduce you to them though if you wish to take over the role..."

"I have my hands full wrangling the mages, I don't think I could handle the Yodh as well," Cyprian admits.

"I can't either. Not sure you would be any worse," Alptraum quips! "The Yodh all hate me too."

"No, not particularly," Alptraum comments as he finishes dressing. "And did Windcaller pass out, or is she waiting for all of us to leave before dressing?"

"Well, I'm having the horse come through soon, so if you were squeamish about some Eeee men, you'll want to hurry back to your duty," Koldesh warns.

Alptraum holds up his arm and points to his forearm to describe things for Wynona.

"I've worked on airships, in very tight spaces and where you do not want the crew to know you are changing," Wynona points out.

"No, the Vigilant Eye is crewed by actual sailors, with just a few Yodh for skirmishing," Wynona says. "The Yodhrephath don't know how to manage an airship, after all."

"Just request to quarter with the Captain for more privacy then," Alptraum suggests.

"He'd just give me his cabin and take mind," Wynona claims, and tries to de-wrinkle her robe by patting at it.

"That's enough teasing my weather witch," Koldesh says, patting Alptraum on the shoulder. "You can't exceed my quota. Anything else you need from me, Barsunala?"

"Hmmm, those aren't really offered at out Temple," Koldesh notes, rubbing her jaw. "We've got stuff that can knock you out so you get a really good sleep though."

"Not at the moment," Koldesh says. "The 'patient' has been safely smuggled out to the Guild Tower, so you'll probably want to deal with that soon."

Alptraum looks disappointed. "Ah, well, right. I'll go handle that, then. Thank you for your patience and tolerance of our oddities. As promised, no harm to the Temple," he says and bows.

Koldesh gives Alptraum a hug as well. "You can always just stay if you like, since you are my husband," she says.

There's a bit of silence from the mages, before Cyprian coughs, and says, "We will prepare the patient in the meantime, now that we have a better idea of what to expect," he says.

"Right, thank you," Alptraum says, sounding befuddled, confused, and probably a little embarrassed. "And Rostre, don't ear Summer."

"Husband?" Wynona asks, then just shakes her head. "That's.. higher-up Yodh stuff."

"It's ... weird religion stuff," Alptraum says and shrugs some. "Along with her putting me in a dress, or something."

"I'll report back to the ship then!" Wynona says hastily and makes her exit, hopefully not trying to imagine Alptraum in a dress.

"She really needs to work on not being embarrassed," Alptraum comments as she watches Wynona flee.

"Playing dressss up is fun," Rostre claims, before Cyprian tugs on her elbow. "We must retrieve your supplies and be on our way as well," he reminds her.

Alptraum also swats Summer on the butt when she passes close by. "That's for the towel earlier," he comments. "Oink oink." He laughs, then says to Koldesh, "I'll help you sort out the sleeping arrangements for the Rhian, since this is my fault.."

"I've had my things moved already," Koldesh says. "But you can help me settle into the new room if you like."

"All right. I'm sure that should be safe enough," Alptraum agrees as he follows Koldesh out.