Once Alptraum's team (and unconscious captive) made it to the door of the room he'd first entered through, he heard something move. This close to the crystal intrusions his aura sense was a bit scrambled, but they had not effect on his ears. And he doesn't recall there being anything in that chamber that made a clicking noise. If Vala heard anything she doesn't react, and Syfil's ears aren't much larger than those of a human.
"I hear something," Alptraum whispers. His ears start flicking and twisting as he tries to identify the source of the sound, since he can't rely on any other senses.
Click click click. It's moving around, but the cadence isn't that of a single person, though it does sound a bit like claws on the floor.
Alptraum gestures for the others to halt, and then he's off, slinking forward to try and move closer to the source of the sound.
It's coming from inside the 'brick' room for certain, and there are more sounds of movement. But before he can get to the slightly open door, the sound stops. Now there's breathing instead.
Alptraum pulses the room with an extremely high-frequency to map out the room with sound instead of eyesight, in case the thing is somehow cloaked.
Something reacts to the ping, as there's a growl and something hits the door, trying to push it open from the inside.
Alptraum shoves at the door to keep it open and to knock back whatever is pushing at it!
"Sounds like an animal?" Vala asks. It's a big animal, or else there's more than one. But now that it's more active, Alptraum can tell it's a grok. Either one really big one or two smaller ones.
"Probably Yodhrephath," Alptraum comments. "Hey, if it's Yodhrepath out there, it's Alptraum in here. Call off your beasts."
There's a sharp whistle, although it seems distant, and the pressure on the door stops.
Alptraum pushes at the door to open it the rest of the way. "Yep, it was theme. But ... I recommend you stay back a little, just in case," Alptraum tells the others, then tries to enter the main room. He's wary, though, just in case.
There are two hunting groks in the room, sitting to either side of the crawlway that winds through the crystal structures to the outside. He seems to have their undivided attention, although without eyes it's always hard to tell with groks. There's no Yodhrephath in the room though, so she's probably at the other end of the cramped tunnel.
Alptraum grins at them. "Hey there," he says to them, "You're pretty things, aren't you? Come visit me sometime." He winks at them. Why? Who knows? He's a weirdo. "All clear, come along with the prisoner, please," he calls back to his companions.
There's still some growling when Vala enters, but almost no reaction at all to Syfil. Vala smiles toothily and rumbles back at the groks. "What are these? War beasts?" she asks. "They could use some markings."
"Hunting beasts called groks," Alptraum explains. "They're very loyal creatures. I've been one. It's an interesting experience, both being four-legged, and having their senses."
The elf dares to pat one on its smooth head. "Pretty," she notes. "Cool to the touch. Good for night work, where heat can give away your position."
"I hear more than one person," a voice calls out, the twists of the crawlway distorting it some.
"Indeed. They are incredibly stealthy hunters," Alptraum says. Calling down the hallway, he says, "Just my summons helping me. You can come meet them if you want. We have one prisoner."
"Can the prisoner make it out on their own?" the Yodh calls back.
"Nope, completely out. I can carry them, though," Alptraum calls back.
"I can send one of the groks back with a harness and they can drag the prisoner out," the Yodh responds. "Unless you're certain they won't wake up and fight you in the tunnel."
"They lost a lot of blood; it's unlikely they'd wake up. So, harness would help," Alptraum calls back, then shrugs a bit to his 'partners'.
There's a quick whistle, and one of the grok leaves through the crawlway. "So what is a Yodhrephath?" Vala asks while they await the groks return.
"Well, Priestess of Vengeance," Alptraum tries to explain. "They are sort of the dealers of justice. Usually the extremely violent kind."
"Sounds like a fun group!" Vala says without a trace of irony.
The sound of claws and heralds the return of the grok, this time with a leather harness that has extra belts and leather cuffs hanging off of it. Hunting grok gear, for dragging back the prey.
Alptraum crouches and motions for the grok to come to him. "Vala, bring that prisoner over here and I'll get her hooked up to be pulled out," he explains while keeping his eyes on the four-legged beast.
The unconscious mage is laid out on the floor. "Any way to bind her wings?" Vala asks.
"There should be something in the straps to do it; there is flying prey too," Alptraum comments as he goes about untangling the harness first, then binding up the mage's arms and legs with the straps before checking what's left for the wings.
Among the gear is a net, ideal for binding up wings. Syfil helps with that, being more familiar with restraints apparently.
"Enjoy bondage, do you?" Alptraum jokes to Syfil, then grins at her.
"I learned this as a child," Syfil claims. Soon the mage is a bat-burrito of sorts, with her arms being the only thing not secured against her body and strapped together like her legs.
"Pfft, there go my kinky dreams of being seduced and enslaved by you," Alptraum jokes to Syfil as he checks over the strapping a few more times, then nods. "All right, prisoner is secure. It's a very young mage, the only survivor of the invasion party. I'd like Cyprian to interrogate her," he calls out.
There are three sharp whistles and the grok begins to drag the captive back down the crawlway. "I'm not going to fit through there," Vala notes. It would certainly be a squeeze, but it may also be that Vala is claustrophobic.
"I know. I figure it is probably time I dismiss you back into your respective echoes now," Alptraum apologizes. "Keeping ou here is a drain on me, but I can manage it ... but not so much fitting you through the hole. I am sorry."
"Well, next time you'll know to take us someplace with room to stretch," Vala says, grinning.
"On a rack?" Alptraum asks.
"Is that a riding beast?" Vala asks, while Syfil smirks.
"Torture device," Alptraum clarified.
"That could still be fun," Vala notes.
"With the right person, it probably is," Alptraum claims and smirks too. He thumbs towards the elf. "She knows."
"I'm sure she knows all sorts of interesting games," Vala concedes. "Is there some special procedure for sending us back?"
"Well, you two have to make mad passionate love before me," Alptraum claims with a straight face. For all of a second or two. "Nah, there's nothing special. I just need to ping Kaira and reverse the link to send you back."
"She has to do whatever you bid her, doesn't she?" Vala asks with a cruel grin.
"Eeeeeeh, sort of. I don't have full control of her. Why?" Alptraum asks.
"Just curious," the drackshasi claims. At least she doesn't try to feign innocence.
"I think you had something in mind, though. What was it?" Alptraum asks.
"I haven't decided yet," Vala claims. "Just the idea of it, and games Syfil might know."
Alptraum smirks. "She'd get revenge on me, you know," he points out.
"I don't see how that is my problem though," Vala points out, still grinning.
"I can make it your problem," Alptraum points out with a grin right back.
"Maybe you should summon her before Vala digs her grave any deeper," Syfil suggests.
Alptraum rolls his eyes. "Hey, lizard-lips, it's time to send back the demon twins here," he remarks both outwardly and inwardly, then even taps his hand.
Kaira's head appears, and asks, "Were they useful?"
"Extremely. Also nice to look at," Alptraum claims.
"Alright, just recover your energy from them and they'll return here," the dragon notes.
"Really?" Alptraum asks, then grins. He turns around, grabs Syfil and pulls her in for one heck of a snog, with heavy sucking ... spiritually speaking.
The elf 'mmffs' and snogs back. "That's how you suck?" Kaira comments. "You should use the shadow to eat them or do your vampire thing.. just try to resist kenning them."
The snog starts involving shadow, to eat her, then! In a fun, slow, weird-squirmy way!
Of course Syfil would be into it.. and gropes Alptraum the whole time. Getting the energy back feels nice as well, but when the elf suddenly fades away it comes as a shock.
That leaves Alptraum blinking. "Whoo! Your turn decorated one," he taunts Vala next and waggles his brow slowly. "One of these days I should come in and get all decorated like you are."
"If any of the runesmiths are left," Vala says. She's not so easily snogged, being taller than Alptraum.
"Oh sure, take the fun out of it," Alptraum sulks and pokes Vala for that. Then he solves the hight problm by grabbing her and sipping her back...
She's not light, either. Drakshasir are dense, unlike Eeee, so it takes some effort. It doesn't help much when Vala puts her arms around his neck either. She's has a lot more energy tied up in her than Syfil did.
And some of Vala's tattoos light up as well, resisting the drain.
So it's a lot of snogging, and groping, and then the tentacle folding, and and squirming into her past her ring 'seals'....
It's still fun, despite the effort. And the way she tongue wrestles as if it were a combat sport. But at least she starts to get lighter the more he drains her.
And on the draining goes ... and the fondling, and Alptraum realizing when it's almost over he's going to be turned on, with no outlet. He's such an idiot.
Vala seems to understand this, and so fondles right back, making sure to leave an impression even when she becomes insubstantial. Alptraum feels very charged up once she's gone too, and since a lot of that is Inala energy it makes things a bit harder. At the disappearance of the two other scents, the remaining grok just grunts. "I've got the mage," the Yodh outside calls.
"I'll be out in as moment, I had to de-summon my minions," Alptraum claims, then eyes the grok. "I don't suppose you're a girl..." he asks with a worrying sort of tone in his voice.
The beast gives out a honk of sorts, and then heads down the crawlway now that there are no further intruders.
"Get a hold of yourself, you shouldn't bonk a grok in a cave. Not on the first date," Alptraum mutters and shakes his head. Then it's his turn to crawl out through the tunnel.
At the far end, Alptraum emerges to find Yodhrephath Scar, the beastmaster. She's still got her mask on, even though the scar it once hid is gone now after Alptraum fixed it. "I expected you to be covered in blood," she notes. "Did you run into any problems? Should this entry be sealed off?"
"A few problems, yes. They tried to set some traps, then the big guy with them was armored and tough. A vampire. Plus the bug-headed guy was a bit nasty," Alptraum summarizes and sighs. "As for the entry, yes, it should be sealed off to discourage any further attempts. What happened in the city while I was in there?"
"There have been a few more incidents, according to the last report I received," Scar explains. "More attacks on our shipping escorts, as expected, and some attempts to get into the Coalition Tower and to cause an incident at the Wound memorial."
"Not unexpected. Were there many casualties?" Alptraum asks next, pausing a moment to rub a bit at the back of his neck.
"I don't know," Scar replies. "I tracked a group to this point, so I've been out of touch."
"What happened to them?" Alptraum asks. "Did you see them, or was it just by scent?"
"Well, I tracked them to here, sent in the groks, and then you showed up," Scar explains. "So apparently you've already met them."
"Ah, them, yes. They were the important raiding party," Alptraum remarks and nods. "So, shall we get out of here? Or do you need to do more patrolling?"
"I just need to seal this entrance," Scar says. "We don't want to be here for that. I can't call on a miracle because of the Sifran crystal, so I have to use the back-up."
"The backup? What's the backup?" Alptraum has to ask.
"Dangerous chemicals," Scar says, and takes a pouch off of her belt. "Stuff you don't want to be near."
"Well, then lets do it and get out of here then," Alptraum says and starts quickly moving away from the passage.
The groks follow, dragging the captive behind, while Scar fiddles with her pouch before throwing it into the crawlway. It's not easy getting out of the tangle of debris that was hiding the entry in the first place, but by the time they're clear the groks are howling because of the nasty odor that's following them.
"Ugh, that reeks," Alptraum complains and covers his own nose. He also hurries up his pace, and wonders why he's walking. I guess it would be rude to just fly off.
Scar waits outside with the groks. "It takes awhile," she says apologetically. "But it will be safe to check again in a few moments, once the stink has passed."
"My nose will never forgive you," Alptraum mutters while holding his nose in discomfort. He almost tries to pet a grok with a free hand, but then remembers he likes having hands.
"How is your captive doing?" Scar asks. "You should take her to the Temple if she's not about to die. Otherwise the Mages may be best."
"The mages would be best, she lost a lot of blood. Plus, Cyprian can examine her for control spells and the like. She seemed rather young to be part of the group," Alptraum answers and looks back at the bound Eeee now that she's outside.
The groks stop whining, meaning that the stench has receded. "I'm going to check that the passage is sealed now," Scar says. "Just give me a moment, unless you want to see me on my hands and knees."
"Well, it is a good look for you, and I wonder if the groks see it often," Alptraum jokes and grins. "I'll come."
Back through the tangle, and then Scar does indeed get on her hands and knees to crawl a bit into the passage, but only as far as her hips (such as they are). "Looks sealed," she reports. "Expanding glue laced with horrib venom. Should keep things from passing through in either direction now."
Alptraum does pat her butt when he gets the chance. "Good, that should be that then. The only other way in I know of is incredibly toxic," Alptraum says with a nod. "Lets get the mage to the Mages Tower."
Once she's out, Scar returns the butt-pat. "I'll call one of the air patrol," she says, and rummages through a different pouch as the return to the outer edge of the Tower. There she lights a small pot that gives off a plume of blue smoke.
Alptraum follows along and then waits as Scar does the signaling. He also uses the time to check over the unconscious captive to make sure she's still alive.
Her pulse is faint, but it's there. Before long a rakhtor-riding Yodhrephath lands nearby. "Caught a live one?" she calls out.
"Nope, grew her from fungus in the cave, fertilized be the corpses of my enemies!" Alptraum calls out with a grin. "Yes, I caught a live one. She needs to be taken to the Mage's tower."
"Strap her behind my saddle," the armored woman says, dismounting to help with the task. "She doesn't look like a Royal Mage," the Yodh notes.
"No, she doesn't. That's why I want the Mages to examine her. She might be an enthralled captive," Alptraum agrees as he unhooked the harness enough (as in off the groks) so he can lift the woman up to strap onto the saddle instead.
Once she's secured, the Yodh asks, "Mage's Tower? And are you riding with or following?"
"I can follow, less weight on your mount," Alptraum answers. "So, after you."
The giant avian takes flight, and Scar waves to Alptraum. "I'll be checking around the Wound for any more troublemakers," she calls.
Alptraum salutes Scar. "Be careful," he says, then to the groks, "You look after her!" With that, he's back into the skies and winging it after the large bird-thing.
The route is not a straight one, probably in case there are snipers in the towers. It also means flying high, which is a bit of a strain on Eeee wings, but then it's mostly gliding the rest of the way down towards the Guild Tower and it's landing ledge. Alptraum arrives just as the Yodh is starting to unstrap the captive.
"Are you coming with me, or do I handle it from here?" Alptraum asks the Yodhgorphat as he goes to help unstrap the captive from the mount. "I don't know what your current standing with the Guild is."
"I have to get back on patrol," the Yodh notes, handing the captive over to Alptraum. "You're our liaison with the Mages Guild, unless you need me to help with anything?"
"No, no need," Alptraum says as he hefts the bound Eeee so he can carry her in. "Thank you for the assist. Good luck in hunting."
"We'll catch them all, Rephath is on our side," the woman says as she mounts back up. "Blakat too," she adds before flying off.
"Or get drunk and have a party," Alptraum mutters under his breath once she departs, and then grins. "Come on, time to get you poked," he tells the unconscious captive. Onward he now goes, lugging the 'dead weight' to the entryway and to find the guards.
The guards already have the door open, and there's a Rhian mage waiting on the threshold. "Wait there," she calls out as she comes towards Alptraum. "I need to run a check first."
"I ... I won't make a bad joke," Alptraum promises and waits for the check to be made.
The woman juggles through a handful of various wants, talismans and other artifacts, all hung from a loop like keys. She also mutters as she uses each of them, watching for reactions or whatever else they're supposed to do as they're waved over the unconscious Eeee. "Can't be too careful, already had one.. incident.." she explains.
"What was the incident?" Alptraum has to ask. "Did someone explode?"
"Some sort of death curse," the mage replies. "Affected the first mage to touch the captive. Was.. uh.. well, luckily there was a Life Mage on the spot."
"I've already touched her a bunch of times," Alptraum points out. "And I'm still alive."
"Yes, but aren't you immune to that sort of thing?" the mage asks. After all of the magical thingamabobs have been used, she takes a deep breath and touches the Eeee's cheek. When nothing melts, she seems satisfied. "Alright, do you know the way to the infirmary?" she asks.
"I probably am," Alptraum has to concede, then shrug some. "And yes, I do. I've been yelled at by the staff there a few times. I think they don't like seeing me coming," he admits. "So, I guess take her there? Can you tell Cyprian she'll be in there and should be checked."
"I'll let him know, he's still interrogating the other one," she says, and waves Alptraum through, even though she's right behind him on the way inside.
On Alptraum goes then, into the tower and into the maze of corridors towards the infirmary ultimately. "Which other one? Mr. Many Parts?" he finally asks.
"One who attacked the Coalition Tower," the mare says. "One of the Big Ones, I think."
"Today? Interesting," Alptraum comments.
"All of the attacks seem to have happened at once," the mage notes. "No idea which are serious and which are distractions."
"This one was caught as part of the infiltration party that got into the tower base," Alptraum notes. "Has this tower been attacked?"
"Not yet," the woman says, with a bit of a whicker to her voice. "I don't think they were expecting us to be involved at all."
"You're still a risk, though. Be on alert," Alptraum notes and has to shift his 'cargo' a bit, it's a long walk!
The infirmary seems primed to expect trouble. At least in that any regular patients have been moved out, and Mage Trilby has several glowing spells held ready, and her subordinates are also prepared. And skittish. At least the Khatta novice is. He looks likes his tail is permanently poofed. "Alptraum," Trilby says by way of greeting. "Bringing us a victim or a villain?"
"Could be both. I caught her as part of the raiding crew of the tower, but she seems ... not a royal mage. I'm not sure what she is, someone controlled, or a true zealot," Alptraum explains as he carries her to an empty bed and puts her down, right with a long sigh of relief.
"Was she using any actual magic?" Trilby asks as one of her attendants works to unbind the Eeee, while another works to strap down anything that comes unbound to the bed itself. A third tries to take the woman's pulse through all of that.
"She has some sort of suggestively shaped snake wand she was using to hold back an ally of mine," Alptraum answers. "She lost a lot of blood. I stabilized her so she could be examined."
"Suggestive snake?" Trilby asks. "Not.. Rostre?"
"No, just a snake shaped wand, that could keep a lonely mage company on cold nights," Alptraum quips.
"What did it do? How'd she loose so much blood and.." Trilby pauses, as if collecting her thoughts. "So she didn't cast any spells? Nothing held that maybe went off when she lost consciousness?"
"Nothing held that went off. She lost blood because she was cut by an ally of mine skilled in cutting people so they bleed out. I patched her up," Alptraum explains.
"You know some dangerous people then," Trilby says. "One of the Yodhsunala?" she asks as she inspects the woman for any other visible wounds. "Cut away the clothes, don't touch any wet bits," she informs her assistants. "Plenty of non-magical ways to poison blood. I hate to think they'd be using people as traps, but we know what they've done to others."
"No, a soul I made manifest of a people dedicated to horrors," Alptraum answers and shrugs a little. "My usual. And as I pointed out to the other made, I did touch her a lot and I didn't die."
"Well, we never tested you for susceptibility to poisons," Trilby notes, checking the captive for any odd marks or stitches as the clothing is cut away.. carefully. The attendants are using heavy gloves, as if expecting nasty surprises.
"So far, nothing to suggest anything implanted surgically," the mouse mutters, and another assistant tries to write that down. "Didn't do anything before losing consciousness.. used a device instead of a spell.. relatively young." She looks to Alptraum again, and asks, "What about the others in her group?"
"Well, I guess I'll wait over here then," Alptraum says and moves out of the way a bit. "The others were holding spells, or weird monster things. And the one guy that was some sort of life magic bomb to animate body parts."
"Eh?" Trilby asks. "Expendables and consumables? Well.. that's horrible. I'm not sure if it's because they're desperate or if it's just how they've always done things. But that means this one is probably an expendable. Will see if she knows anything once we get her stable and conscious."
Alptraum nods. "It's why I didn't kill her. She didn't seem like she really fit. The others I soul-burned," Alptraum explains while gesturing a little with his hands.
"That sounds.. unpleasant," Trilby says. "Cyprian has one of the more magey mages in interrogation right now."
"It is unpleasant. They incinerate from the inside out, slowly, as thousands of tiny hands tear them apart," Alptraum explains further, probably a little too much.
"I've had spicy meals that felt like that," Trilby claims, trying to lighten the topic a bit. "Did any of them have anything really nasty on them?"
"Spells? Well, one had an acid trap. Another was armored in iron. There was some thistlebark, and I know they set up spirit wards, so they were guarding against me," Alptraum ticks off.
"That is worrying," Trilby says as she feels up the patient's breasts to make sure they aren't hiding anything. "Unless they really wanted that group to succeed. I haven't heard all that's going on out there."
"Why is it worrying? That they expected me?" Alptraum inquires. "Also, that was strangely alluring."
"Well, yes, it's worrying," Trilby claims, and looks at Alptraum. "Do I need to check you for any hidden surprises? But.. if they were willing to go that far, then the stuff they've prepared against mere mortals can be even worse. Did you already turn over this ones suggestive Naga artifact?"
"I er, ... " Alptraum funbles as he starts checking over himself, and finds he's still carrying the wand stuck in his sash just under his wings in the back. "Ah, right, here it is. Every lonely mages evening friend..."
Trilby doesn't take it, but examines it. "Doesn't look very suggestive to me, unless bared cobra fangs are some sort of fetish?" she comments. "Probably a Life Magic paralytic effect, but you can never tell with these things. The Royal Mages supposedly went out of their way to gather ancient, obscure tools like this rather than make their own."
"So, they were lazy...." Alptraum muses. "Good for us!"
"And hey, fangs are sexy!" Alptraum points out and smiles fangily!
"Well, these things were also very powerful," Trilby notes. "So.. not like we could make them today. They're from a 'lost age' of magic or something." Trilby examines the bared fangs. "Well.. when they're connected to the right mouth, yes."
"Ah, yes, the Olympian days. I could ask NAla about that probably," Alptraum muses and rubs his chin. "She was part of them."
Trilby's assistants begin carefully cutting away the captured mage's clothing - at the least the parts that aren't glued to her fur with dried blood. "Be careful," Trilby instructs, and turns back to Alptraum. "We can't just worry about things being hidden in their clothes," she explains.
"You do realize who you are talking to, yes? I can look for spirit-like traps and such," Alptraum points out and taps her right on her nosetip.
"Oh, right, part of their mind-control stuff," Trilby says, bobbing her head. "Should probably do that too. Mainly we're worried about surgically implanted artifacts."
"I'd spot those if they radiate any of a few types of magic," Alptraum comments just before moving close to the prone mage and peering down at her. Soom he's not looking at her so much through his eyes, as all his other senses, from aura, to even subtle shifts into seeing the more spirit-side of things.
She's barely there, given how weak she's become, but then there are the treatments being applied, which create 'warmer' zones of color, especially when they hook up something to her arm. There are areas that might be old injuries, or new ones. But there isn't anything lurking in her like the suicide spirits found in the memory-wiped captives. But there could still be other things. "Hey, can you use that shadow of yours to feel around for things inside of people?" Trilby asks.
"Yes, it can," Alptraum says a bit absently in tone. "I don't see any obvious spirit traps; mostly some old wounds that healed. Doesn't mean there isn't something else, just that I don't see some things that have shown up before."
"Old wounds are suspicious, especially skeletal ones," Trilby says. "No signs of pregnancy though?"
"There's no separate spirit I can detect, no," Alptraum admits. Her rolls his right hand a bit, then places it upon her belly. As he breathes out, so does the shadow. It sinks/dives into her body to begin a more ... intimate, examination
There's something in there, about the size and shape of an egg, and it makes the shadow tingle. But it's not giving off any obvious magical energy.
"There's something in here," Alptraum remarks, "You might want to stand back." Then he's slowly wrapping the shadow around that egg-shape, curious.
The tingle might be from iron, but if so it's a very small amount. "Clear the room, I'll get the jar!" Trilby calls out and everyone drops what they're doing while the Skeek hurries to one of the supply cabinets.
Alptraum is grateful for where it is, it means there is a direct way out! Well, unless she's plugged somehow. So, now it's into a sort of weird blind manipulation of the shadow to try and push that object out through the cervix and birth canal.
It's tricky. Making part of the shadow solid enough to push while still being able to pass through the woman's flesh leads to some issues at first, but Alptraum eventually gets it into the final stretch. Trilby is there, spreading the woman's legs while also trying to maneuver a large ceramic jar into place. "If she wakes up an grabs me, don't let the jar drop!" the Skeek says. The jar is covered with lots of symbols on the inside, visible since they're glowing.
Alptraum has his tongue out a bit as he concentrates. At least he's rather familiar with this kind of anatomy at this point; so he knows how fast, or slow to go, and where clench points are. "I doubt she'll wake up, she's barely here to begin with," he remarks, just as the outer edges of her vulva start to bulge a bit from pressure within.
Some the black begins to protrude out, and it's not the shadow. It looks like a stone at first. Trilby gets the jar into position, so the thing is covered by it even as it's being pushed out. "Please work please work please work," she chants over and over.
"Anyone else finding this arousing?" Alptraum jokes. In spite of his flippant remark, he's actually quite focused on slowly pushing out that odd occupier into the jar. So much so where there is a sort of 'popping' sound from it exiting he nearly jumps.
"I'll consider it after this works," Trilby says, checking for a cord or string or anything else that's not now in the jar. The symbols inside glow brighter, and the lozenge-shaped thing seems to be floating suspended in the center. "I have no idea if this is working or not," Trilby says. "It's supposed to suppress chemical reactions, in case this is a non-magical sort of explosive. It's a weird trick someone figured out a while back.. not the jar, the explosive bit."
"I hope it works too, I'd rather not blow up today, it would be a mood killer," Alptraum quips then goes back to examining the mage in a bit more detail again.
While the 'egg' was the most obvious thing, there could be others hidden away somewhere in the woman's body. "It's not fair," Trilby says, as she carefully puts the lid on the jar. "I'm sure it was a smuggler who figured out the loophole, but I don't like to think about how it was figured out. But stuff that's normally very unstable on the surface can be made sorta stable so long as it's inside a living being, and was put there at an altitude where it is stable."
"How is it not fair?" Alptraum asks, "That you didn't figure it out?"
"It doesn't last though," Trilby explains. "Eventually the world notices and whatever it is goes off. It's not fair that people can be turned into time-bombs without even realizing it. They're usually pretty desperate I'd think to resort not just to smuggling, but smuggling something they don't know is going to kill them."
"Or they're made to against their will. Or secretly," Alptraum points out. "The black market is hardly one to care about such niceties as asking."
"Maybe if she succeeded they would have removed it," Trilby says, then thinks on that. "Or that they were planning to escape via airship."
"Or she was just sacrificial They don't particularly seem to care about anyone outside of their small group," Alptraum notes a bit grimly.
"No.. but they'd need to have done this somewhere safe," Trilby says, and chews on her whiskers. "Like a small sky-island. Nobody goes to the small ones, since they're barely habitable."
Alptraum withdraws the shadow. "I don't feel anything else, thankfully," he says. "Why a small island and not just an anchored airship? Any gas bag doesn't need power to just float there."
"Because you can't track an island," Trilby says. "Or shoot one down. Well, you can track one, sort-of, if you have a magical beacon on it, like Caroban does. But they're very careful about who gets the compasses that point to it."
"So, you think they've got some island hideout, then?" Alptraum asks. "Well, if she lives, she might be able to tell us."
"She probably won't have compass, or know where one is," Trilby says, and starts calling her assistants back. "Maybe the one Cyprian has knows. He's apparently one of the recognized Royal Mages."
"How many were there? It's a bit sad I don't know but ... I don't," Alptraum admits and shrugs as he continues to look down at the prone mage-bat.
"Twelve at the top," Trilby says. "Just like the Mage Council has twelve. One for each discipline. But the Royal Mages were the best of the best in Ur, usually. Their own society separate from the Guild."
"Hardly best of the best! I wasn't on it!" Alptraum proclaims and puffs up his chest, then grins.
Trilby pokes Alptraum in the middle of his chest. "You aren't old and bureaucratic enough. I honestly have no idea how the heads of the Spheres are chosen."
Alptraum ooofs and clutches his chest! "You wound me!" he laments. "No one ever takes us supernatural beings seriously. Well, the Goddesses are, but not us lowly children. Woe."
"I'm sure the Spirit Mages on Caroban would love to have you over for tea," Trilby says a bit sarcastically. "I'd probably be in trouble for associating with 'a known spirit entity' related to religion."
"They'd love to dissect me," Alptraum remarks rather dryly. "They have tried before."
"Yeah, a lot depends on which group you run into," Trilby notes, looking down at the unconscious woman. "I would not want to run into her group myself."
"I do wonder, am I really so horrible to spend time with?" I thought I was rather fun and kind," Alptraum comments with a mock pout. "And yet, so many want to erase me."
"Things have been shaken up in the world of magic, so some are more determined to cling to comforting tradition than others," Trilby says.
"And.. well, there's a lot of risks we just don't take anymore," the Skeek adds.
"I thought I was rather comforting. Or was it creepy?" Alptraum muses and rubs his chin a bit. "The real scary ones are the High Priestesses, though. Especially the one who serves Gorphat."
"You do like to tease people I've noticed," Trilby points out. "I've never met any of the Yodh. I only get out of the tower in my dreams."
"What's wrong with teasing people?" Alptraum asks. "You enjoyed it."
"Well, nothing I suppose," Trilby says. "At least you don't play practical jokes. Unless giving Rostre.. ahem.. was a joke!"
"Now, she wanted huge boobs. I really have no idea why. I mean, sure, they're fun to have, but they can also be distracting," Alptraum mutters. "Ah well."
"They are, and nobody has ever claimed that I was distracting," Trilby says, and checks on the patient. "She should be awake in a few more hours, if she's going to wake at all."
"Yours aren't huge, though. I could fix that," Alptraum remarks. "And ... I could probably ensure she will wake. Maybe. But I'm a bit, well, low."
"Low?" Trilby asks. "Did you wear yourself out?"
"I summoned two demon-things to help me fight the mages in the undertower, yes," Alptraum explains. "I don't want to deplete myself too far, or my body might start 'being weird'."
"Being weird, and yet summoning demon things in your undertower isn't?" Trilby asks, look at Alptraum's crotch. "Or is undertower not a euphemism?"
"By undertower I mean under the tower of Babel, not my pants. IT's more likely if I get low I may lose things in my pants," Alptraum mutters.
"Incontinence happens to mages more often that you'd think, but when you consider rituals can last for hours..." Trilby says. "I've got a special tea that helps, but for the next few days you'll wish it hadn't."
"It's not that," Alptraum says, "I could end up a woman. I've spent a lot of time as one, now my body likes to revert to that."
"So you transfer the excess femininity to Rostre," Trilby guesses. "That makes a certain amount of sense."
"Hah, well, no. Anyway, I am a guy, I just have spent time as everything else, in between, and nothing too," Alptraum says and rolls his shoulders in a bit of a shrug.
"You have an unusual life, don't you?" Trilby says. "I don't think there's much more to do with this one but wait. I think the other one is being kept somewhere lower in the tower."
"I have a very unusual life. And i take it that's your polite way of asking me to leave, then?" Alptraum asks and chuckles some. "I can head out and leave you folks to your work."
"Go help Cyprian," Trilby says. "His captive probably has worse things embedded in them than maybe womb-booms."
"All right, I can do that. Down below you said?" Alptraum asks.
"Yes, away from any enchantments or sources of power the mage might try to draw on," Trilby says. "I heard that the Guild scoured the place when they took it over, but who knows if something we couldn't detect was secreted away. Babelites were apparently paranoid and treacherous, according to some."
"That's a fair assessment of some, yes," Alptraum concedes. He then rubs the top of Trilby's head vigorously before saying, "Seeya!" Then he's off to leave the room,and head down!
It's not hard to figure out the right path, since there are guards posted along it. "Can I help you?" the third one Alptraum passes asks.
"Yes, I'm looking for your soul repository, I'm hungry," Alptraum says with a completely straight face. "Failing that, I wish to find Mage Cyprian."
"Oh, Mage Cyprian is down in the dungeon," the guard says. "You aren't here to free, aid, or kill the prisoner are you?"
"No, I'm here to help Cyprian if he needs my help. I just delivered another prisoner upstairs," Alptraum says, amused the guard didn't react too much to his commentary.
"I didn't know there was a soul repository," the guard admits. "I've heard there's a secret smoking room though. Anyway, keeping going down. If smell something acrid, you're going the wrong way. Follow the scent of jasmine incense," the Jupani instructs. Of course he'd use scents as directional cues. "If you go more than fifty paces without seeing a guard, then something has probably gone wrong."
Alptraum salutes. "You are a gentleman," he declares with a grin, "Thank you." On Alptraum goes, down, and down, and knows if he smells something Acrid, well, that's Rostre's lab and the wrong way.
It helps that the guards have lanterns. Well, it helps the guards at least. And they seem to assume that since he wasn't stopped higher up, he must be authorized to be there. Alptraum certainly doesn't recognize most of them - so they may just been hired or stationed recently. None of them are Eeee, though, almost all Jupani so likely imported.
Alptraum does wonder if they're from the Rephidim Temple; they do seem to like Jupani. He also does blow a few a kiss as he passes, because, eh, why not? It'll at least make their days more amusing. The thought does cross his mind that they don't trust Babelites to not betray them, so hence, no Eeee.
Well, except for one Babelite. The guards at the door to the dungeon are less friendly.. or at least more suspicious. They're Khattas. "Who goes there?" the one on the left demands. They are about as deep voiced as the typical Eeee though.. but aren't carrying lanterns, so would have an advantage over anyone that didn't have good night vision, in case there were non-Eeee invaders.
"Alptraum, the Barsunala, here to see Mage Cyprian," Alptraum answers, sounding relatively unconcerned. "As I can no longer help with the prisoner upstairs, it was suggested I come here to help him."
"Wait here," the guard says. There's motion behind the door they guard, so someone must be relaying the message. A few moments pass, and a spy-hole slides open in the door. "He'll see them," a voice says, and then the door is pulled open. A few more felines armed with crossbows are in the chamber beyond, but they aren't being pointed at Alptraum.
"Tough crowd," Alptraum comments, then shrugs a bit and heads through the doorway to the chamber beyond.
The outer door is closed and barred before the inner one is open. Beyond that is.. Summer. "Oh, hi!" she says to Alptraum. "Follow me, I guess."
"Okay, so I didn't expect you to be down here. Let me guess, the prisoner needs to be potted in order to interrogate?" Alptraum quips with a fangy sort of grin. "I won't lose sight of your butt, no worries."
"I'm just here in case of Earth Magic attacks," the doe notes. "I've got a Dispel ready and waiting," she explains. "Which is why we're down so low, otherwise it might cause parts of the tower to collapse if I use it." She leads the way to a door that clearly isn't for a cell, and knocks on it. It's opened by Cyprian.
"Welcome," he says. He looks a bit haggard.
"You look awful," Alptraum remarks when face to face with Cyprian, "Not at all the handsome and alive mage we all love. I hear you have one of the actual royal mages down here."
"Yes," Cyprian says, gesturing for Alptraum to follow him into the room. It's dimly lit, and the Jupani dozing in the corner is wearing mage robes: Alptraum recognizes Mage Gusty of Air. The room is sparsely furnished, and there's a slot in one wall. "Welcome to the observation room."
"You're just observing him? Is he that dangerous?" Alptraum asks as he enters, then heads towards the slot in the wall so he can peer through.
The light on the side of the wall is dim, and in the center of the revealed room is a chair with a naked figure strapped down to it. Even the wings are bound. There's something like a box covering the man's head, and his exposed body shows a lot bulges that are either deformities or something else. The state of the body seems to imply a borderline elderly Eeee. "We're also waiting," Cyprian says. "Mage Pancrazio is a dual-sphere master, both Life and Mind."
"He looks like he's all sorts of trapped," Alptraum comments and peers more, trying to get more of an aura and spirit sense of the man. "He's very bumpy."
There's no aura reading at all, oddly. "He has a lot of enchantments, and probably embedded artifacts," Cyprian notes. "So we're waiting to see if he weakens. And if anyone is coming for him."
"He also has defenses, I cannot get a true 'read' of him at all from either his aura, or spiritform. At least from here," Alptraum comments as his head tilts just a bit to the side. "That's aggravating. It also means I couldn't yank him into an in-between place to safely interrogate him."
"I have not ruled out the chance that what we have is a puppet," Cyprian says. "So, we are starving him. The apparatus on his head blocks all sight and sound. We're fairly certain this will eventually trigger something, either a Life or Mind spell to keep him healthy and relatively sane. We don't have one of Carabon's anti-magic cells to put him in."
"I'd try to examine him through the shadow I control, but ... I'm concerned he would have some very unpleasant defenses to it, given I cannot sense him at all," Alptraum muses, one ear soon flicking a little too. "Could you fill the room with Sifrian Crystals to disrupt whatever it is he may be carrying?"
"That would probably do it, but such crystals are monumentally expensive, and those I know of in private hands are rather small," Cyprian notes. "We'd have to move him to the crystals. You likely are running up against his mind shield, much like my own, that is preventing you from getting a read on him. But that too will have to be recharged, unless he has some sort of enchantment or artifact maintaining it for him."
"OR as you say, it's a puppet and has no mind of its own," Alptraum comments, frowning. He taps a claw on the wall, pondering. "I wonder if I could summon a spirit to go in and examine him for us. I don't know if he could directly harm it in any real way other than just discoporating it."
"He shouldn't be able to do anything," Cyprian says. "What sort of spirit do you have in mind?"
"Well, any number of ones that are trapped in the prison I keep watch over," Alptraum remarks. "Their skills vary quite wildly. I know one has markings and decorations that in themselves are magical wards and defenses that might at least help identify what is in him."
"Hmm, we do not have any Mages familiar with artifact use," Cyprian notes. "It isn't the sort of thing the Collegia encourages. These spirits are familiar with them though?"
"Reasonably, yes. It was able to deal with some traps they tried to set in the lower tower rooms during our pursuit," Alptraum comments.
"Such could be useful then, if it's nature is foreign enough that they do not act like spirits created with Spirit Magic," Cyprian says.
Since most of what was used came from Inala's infusion, he hasn't tapped into his own reserves just yet (but some of the Inala power was meant for giving her bunnies).
"All right, I think I can manage to call one forth, and probably directly in that room as long as it isn't warded," Alptraum muses, then directs more inawrdly, "Hey, Kaira, I need the tattooed and pierced gal again... Vala, not one of my forms. Get her queued up if she's willing..."
"Sure, what do you want her for?" Kaira replies. "As in, how real does she need to be?"
"She needs to examine a prisoner that might be boobytrapped with all sorts of artifacts. We can't get close," Alptraum explains
"So probably not too real then, hold your right hand out, palm forward," Kaira instructs.
"I'm going to summon my inspector now into the room with the prisoner," Alptraum announces to Cyprian, before he goes and sticks his palm flat onto the viewing port.
Instead of the shadow, it looks like colored smoke is flowing out of Alptraum's palm through the slit. On the other side, it begins to fill out the shape of Vala, although the smoky appearance never completely fades, so she doesn't see entirely solid. "So.. I need to look this old guy over?" she asks through the slit.
"Please, Vala. He's extremely dangerous, and may have lots of hidden artifacts, or worse, about his person. I figured your own artifacts and markings might help identify parts for us," Alptraum explains.
"I've gotten the scent of the local magic now," the tall woman claims, and starts circling the chair. She seems to touch some of the obvious bulges with her finger, even though it's hard to tell due to the ghost-like state she's in. "Hmmm," Vala goes, and inspects more obvious lumps.
"In case you're wondering, my kind doesn't normally have bumps like that," Alptraum explains, lest she get weird ideas. He glances to Cyprian and the other mages to see if they're freaking out or not over this.
Cyprian tries to get close enough to see through the slot, which isn't easy. Eeee may be slender, but their wings make it hard to look over another's shoulder.
Alptraum moves out of the way so he can look.
"It's not like what I felt with the snake-wand," Vala says. "I think around half or more of these are decoys or bluffs, with just enough enchantment to raise suspicion." She keeps probing, this time reaching into the bound mage. Sometimes he actually jerks slightly, which may have been what Vala was actually testing for.
"That doesn't surprise me, at all. From what I've heard, they were devious and paranoid," Alptraum admits.
Vala rummages in the man's chest, and pulls something out. it looks like glowing golden threads, at least where she's holding them, like fine Zolk. "Interesting," she notes.
"HOld those out a little?" Alptraum asks, then lets Cyprian and others get a look. "Do any of you recognize what that is?"
"They look like threads," Cyprian observes. "Do they lead anywhere?"
Vala isolates on thread, and moves away from the mage, with the section in her fingers continuing to glow. "They lead outside of this chamber," she notes.
"Puppet?" Alptraum asks and looks at Cyprian questioningly. He then tries to focus various senses on the thread, and see if one of them would allow him to trace that thread.
They seem to echo with Life Magic. And feed into the man's heart. "What's in this direction?" Vala asks, standing at one corner of the room.
"Mt. Rephath, more or less," Cyprian says after a moment of thought.
"Are there any prisoners at Mount Rephath?" Alptraum asks, now worried.
"The others you brought back from the pirates," Cyprian says. "Are there any threads that lead into the tower, which would be the opposite wall?" he asks Vala.
The drakshasi returns the mage and tries to untangle the threads to see if any lead in different directions.
"Does that mean he can still exert control over those at Mt. Repath?" Alptraum asks, worried more. "What if he could make them explode? Or worse?"
"This is weird," Vala says. "I think these are still connected to pieces of this guy somehow," she explains, and does find two threads leading upwards into the tower.
"Pieces of this guy...?" Alptraum asks, "Er, what's up there, Cyprian? IT couldn't be the young mage I brought in, could it?"
"We didn't check for that," Cyprian growls. "I'm going to have Trilby scan the Cervani for foreign grafts."
"What would the grafts be for?" Alptraum asks Cyprian. "Can he use them to body-jump?"
Turning to Alptraum, Cyprian says, "This is one of the head Royal Mages, the ones responsible for maintaining the Sabaoth's immortality. And we know that involved transplanting pieces of the old Sabaoth into the new body. So, this could be just that, or a way to siphon life out of them.. or kill them. Each of those men can be a hostage, a battery or an escape."
Alptraum curses. "Can we cut the strings?" he then asks quite bluntly. Or rather, if it's sort of life and spirit, surely I could disrupt it."
"We can try with the two we actually have under our care," Cyprian says. "I want to know where the threads connect to them, that will tell us more about just what they're for. My suspicion is that they connect to parts of their brains though. They had memory suppression, which could be part of this, especially if there was brain surgery involved."
"And if there are more than just his connected," the Mind Mage growls. "If so.. we can use them to find the others."
"So, likely either secret spies, or an escape route," Alptraum growls, then actually punches the wall in irritation. "I should have detected that too, it's right in my, well, domain."
"They had those spirits in them as distractions," Cyprian suggests. "Something obvious to hide something subtle." He turns to the Life Mage on standby, and says, "Get to Trilby, tell her what's going on. Have her look for magical tissue grafts. Focus on heart and brain."
"Yes sir," the young Khatta salutes, and then runs out of the chamber.
"You, me and Rostre should examine them too," Cyprian says.
"This is probably how they escaped Babel the first time. Just ... hop to a new body," Alptraum growls. "And I agree."
"Want me to look for anything else?" Vala asks. "Most of these implants are decoys or power-storage, a few I can't be certain of. The stuff with his heart is a spell of some sort. I can't check his brain, I'm blocked by the box you have around his head."
"What are the few ones you're not sure of? Can you describe what you can of them?" Alptraum asks.
"Well, two of the bones in his right hand aren't bones," Vala explains. "They may be like that wand thing. There's something in his blood too, not sure what. It could be from one of the implants though, he's got one deep in his gut, not sure all of his organs are original so might be related."
"We'll need to get a blood sample, but I'd rather not risk it just yet," Cyprian says. "There used to be an old trick of creating poisonous blood. Poisonous to everyone but the person it belongs to."
"They probably are not. These guys are centuries old," Alptraum says, sighs, and rubs his forehead some.
"Want me to stop his heart to see if it starts up again?" Vala suggests.
"Poisonous blood would keep vampires away. Glad I didn't suggest biting him," Alptraum comments and sticks out his tongue.
"Probably not at this time. He might try body-jumping of we did that," Alptraum suggests, and looks t Cyprian for confirmation or rejection of his concerns.
"We aren't going to do anything to him just yet," Cyprian says. "We need to know just what these connections are for, and where they all go, and if they all have the same function."
Alptraum nods. "So, agreed for now to leave him be. I guess that's all you can check for us, for now," Alptraum apologizes. "Would you like me to recall you later to check more perhaps? Or is this too irritating?"
"I never got to put these skills to the test before," Vala replies. "It's fun! Will I get to dissect him later?"
Alptraum glances at Cyprian and arches his brow.
"There may be a line," Cyprian suggests. "There will likely be several overlapping sentences if we can bring him to trial."
"Just have Alptraum bring him back from the dead or something for each different death penalty," Vala suggests. "You can do that, right Alptraum?"
"Er, well, probably," Alptraum admits, looking a bit grim at that suggestion. "But it would be a violation of my Mother's rules."
"Just rebuild him when he's at the very brink of death," Vala says, and grins, ghostly teeth still looking sharp. "Is there a rule about preventing someone from dying?"
"Well ... no" Alptraum concedes, grudgingly. "We'll discuss it later."
"I'll keep you to that!" Vala says, and starts pouring back through the slot.
Alptraum holds out his hand and collects up the strage creature by 'devouring her'. When done, he says to Cyprian, "Sorry about that. I know a lot of not so nice creatures."
"She fits right in with Babelite tradition," Cyprian notes. An out of breath cat returns, wheezing and leaning against the doorframe. "So.. started.. exam.." he gasps out.
"Started? Or is there already a problem?" Alptraum asks Mr. Wheezy
"Started," the young mage explains after catching his breath. "It's a ritual, will take a bit.."
"We can try to find that thread at least," Cyprian suggests.
Alptraum nods and bows to Cyprian, "Lead the way, Mage with the nice butt," he quips and grins.
Cyprian manages to not sway his hips as he leaves. He's wearing his robes, so it's not like anything would show. At the first juncture he pauses, and looks towards the stinky route. "Should we get Rostre?" he asks. "She's studied up on Royal Mage artifacts."
"As much as we may regret it, yes. I'm ... raw power, not trained. While I can deal with many things, I do not know any subtleties, and thus I do appreciate your, and her, skills," Alptraum admits. "And her experience here would be helpful."
Cyprian gestures for Alptraum to lead the way, explaining, "She's usually happy to see you, and not to see me."
"Only because I indulge her weirdness," Alptraum admits and takes the lead. "I hope you enjoy the view back there," he comments, and grins over his shoulders. And he does sway his hips.
"Rostre will ogle more than enough for both of us," Cyprian notes. "Which is why I do not wear leather pants."
"Yet!
"Yet!" Alptraum declares. "You'd look good in them."
Rostre's apprentice is loitering outside the workshop, which usually means something foul is going on. She jerks to attention when she spots the pair approaching. "I had nothing to do with it!" she claims defensively. "Please don't expel me!"
Alptraum rubs his face for a bit. "We're here for help, not expulsion. Besides, I can't expel anyone, I don't even belong to the guild," Alptraum points out. "So, what did you do?"
"I didn't do anything!" the girl claims. "See?" she asks as she turns around in a circle. "None of it is on me! I wasn't even in the room and I'm not cleaning it up!"
Alptraum looks at Cyprian. "Do we even want to know?" he asks.
"We have to open the door at least," Cyprian says with a bit of a sigh.
Alptraum holds his nose, from past experience, then goes and opens the door.
The door meets some brief resistance before opening, and there's a lot of.. pink goo.. that drips down it and builds up against the leading edge. The lab beyond is covered in massive spatters of the stuff, some of which is jiggling a bit. Rostre is likewise covered, and having trouble keeping upright as her coils slip around in the stuff.
"What did YOU do, Rostre?" Alptraum demands. "Did your breasts explode?!"
"Oh, Alptraum," Rostre says, slipping around again as she tries to turn towards him. "No, but I've succeeded in manifesting ectoplasm that doesn't immediately turn to vapor!"
"And you wanted to do this why? Is this some sort of new kink?!" Alptraum demands.
"It could lead to spirits that are more physically present," Rostre notes. "Ones that could interact with objects! Think of the potential for spirit projection!"
"How long does it last?" Cyprian asks, staying outside.
"Almost fifteen minutes so far," Rostre says after consulting a large hourglass.
"Uhm, I am already able to summon a spirit that can interact, and even fight with me. I did it in the tower, and downstairs just a bit ago," Alptraum haltingly admits.
"Yes, but normal Spirit Mages can't do that," Rostre points out. "But, can you make yours in different flavors?"
"Why would I want to?" Alptraum asks. "I don't lick spirits."
"She wanted me to taste it!" the apprentice accuses from behind Cyprian.
"It could be a new dessert trend for Caroban's Enchanted Cuisine restaurant," Rostre claims. "Ghost Jelly! I think this batch tastes like pork. I can't taste anything of course so if you could give it a try?" she prompts Alptraum.
"I'm a vampire! How would I know what it tastes like? I don't know what most food taste like!" Alptraum insists.
"Really?" Rostre asks, looking as surprised as a Naga can probably manage, which involves putting her hands on her cheeks. "Blood doesn't have flavor? I thought everything had flavor!"
"Blood has flavor! It tastes like blood!" Alptraum retorts. "But I can't say blood takes like pork, I don't know what pork tastes like."
"It doesn't taste like blood," Cyprian claims.
"Cyprian!" Rostre exclaims. "Taste my goo!"
"No," is the reply. "We hoped to consult with you about a spell being used by a Royal Mage. It may have some similarity to the curse you recently helped Alptraum track."
Alptraum does dare to stick a finger in some of the goo, then lick that finger. What the dagh, he's curious now.
It tastes like.. pink goo. Now, Alptraum has had hog in Sylvania, in the 'dunk it in blood, spices, chew it up until the juice is gone and spit it into a bucket' manner, which probably still wasn't getting the same flavor someone else would have out of it.. but this isn't close to that. It's more like sugary mucous.
Alptraum spits! "Gah. It tastes like you snorted some sugar, then spit sugary boogers back into your mouth," Alptraum whines, then starts wiping at his tomgue.
"That's not good?" Rostre asks. "Isn't that what most children do? And.. what's this about a curse?"
"Our captured Royal Mage has some sort of spell connecting him to a group of people that have suffered memory suppression, and were captives of a Royal Mage for an extended period," Cyprian notes. "We do not know if the links are for draining life from them, killing them or using them as hosts in the event of the Mage's death."
"No, it is not good, at all! It was vile!" Alptraum tirades! "I've tasted better when ... er, heh." He stops that comment in time. He almost made a remark about giving a savanite male some, er, licking.
"Oooo!" Rostre says. "I should get my.. book.." she looks around at the goo-covered everything.
"Can't you make this mess dissolve faster?" Cyprian asks. Rostre looks stricken. "But.. well.. I suppose I can," she admits.
So Rostre beings chanting. Apparently whatever spell or ritual she came up with to create the stuff is still active, so things move quickly. Literally. The goo starts rolling and balling itself into blobs, the splattered bits sucking back into itself. With a wet, sloppy sucking sound of course.
"I'm not helping you clean it up, that's what apprentices are for," Alptraum claims.
"Gorphat would love you," Alptraum then remarks to Rostre.
"Animated snot," Cyprian mutters. "Maybe this could be used to get criminals to abandon hostages or surrender when they are barricaded behind a strong door.."
"It just might, at that," Alptraum has to agree with Cyprian. "And oh, I know Gorphat finds you handsome, by the way. Doesn't that just make you feel all warm and fuzzy?"
"I'm sure that is mostly due to reputation," Cyprian claims. "Most people find me creepy." The goo is now rolling around and aggregating into a large blob at the center of the room. There is a lot of it. One Rostre-weight from the look of it.
"Does she do any useful research?" Alptraum has to ask Cyprian now.
"Research Mages tend to be eccentric," Cyprian claims. He probably means eccentric compared to regular mages. "It's usually best to let them tinker in out of the way spots. Occasionally they will come up with some new sort of magic. But that's why the School of Fire's campus on Caroban is made entirely of cinderblock."
Alptraum snorts. "Okay, I'll concede," he admits and gestures a little with his hands. "I'm sure I appear eccentric, or downright crazy to most too."
"Nobody ever accused the Babelite Pantheon of being sane," Cyprian notes. "You seem well grounded to me, for the most part."
Almost all of the goo is in the blob now, which forms a depression at the top like a mouth and starts moaning, as the last remaining bits fly into it.
"Did you have to make it disturbing and noisy?" Alptraum asks of Rostre.
"Spirit seeks form," Rostre claims, her chanting apparently finished. A lot of goo is still on her, so the blob lumbers over to noisily suck it off. "So, this curse link is to someone inside the tower?" she asks while this happens.
"Our two Cervani patients," Cyprian replies, looking.. anywhere but at Rostre right now.
"Yes, there are these odd tethers to them and the royal mage held below. Cyprian believes it is linked to some grafts in their bodies, which is why it was only just found," Alptraum adds.
"Oh my, can that even be checked for?" Rostre asks. The last of the slime jumps from her to the blob, which then starts to vibrate ominously.
Alptraum moves behind Cyprian and the apprentice.
The blob begins vomiting pink smoke at an alarming rate and with a rude noise and odor. "There's my book!" Rostre says, ignoring the occurrence to fetch her big book of forbidden artifacts.
Alptraum backs up more. "It's probably going to explode again," he claims.
It's gone from parping to hissing. "What exactly do we know about the originating circumstances of the victims?" Rostre asks.
"They were likely captured in airship raids; they're former residents of Chronotopia," Alptraum explains.
"No injuries?" Rostre asks. "No recollection of what actually happened?"
"One of them was an alleged witness," Cyprian notes. "One of the Vartans, I believe?" he asks Alptraum.
"No recollection of what happened; their memories were wiped somewhat, and suppressed," Alptraum further explains.
"One of them was willingly working for them, yes," Alptraum confirms.
"Can we interview him?" Rostre asks, holding her book.
"That is up to the Yodhrephath," Cyprian claims.
"Yes, so not right now. We'd best check the people here, the two Cervani, first," Alptraum insists. "Can we get moving and away from that disturbing blob?"
"It isn't turning reddish-green, so should fizzle out safely," Rostre says, and fetches a robe. And then a small chest. "Can one of you carry my book for me?" she asks.
"Sure, I can," Alptraum agrees and goes to get the erstwhile book of doom.
The book is surprisingly heavy.. the covers are thick wood, possibly thistlebark because it makes Alptraum's hands itch.
"Ugh, this book is itchy. You asked a supernatural being to pick up a book made of thistlebark? Really?" Alptraum asks in annoyance.
"You aren't a spirit though," Rostre says. "Do you want to swap?" she asks, holding up her small chest.
"I'm partially spirit! This stuff bothers me. I'll be okay though, it gives me a reason to complain," Alptraum claims. "Cyprian can rub my hands for me later."
"I'm sure Trilby has an ointment," Cyprian notes, and starts back along the corridor.
"But it's more fun to have you rub them," Alptraum claims, and follows after.
"Watch your step!" Trilby squeaks loudly as the trio arrive at the infirmary. Apprentices are rushing around with their robes hiked up to avoid disturbing any of the lines of chalk, sand and what might be blood laid out in an elaborate pattern across the floor. At the center of it all stands Albrecht Hemstone (a.k.a Mr. Sprocket), being supported a bit by Summer Forest despite being at least twice her size. He does seem unsteady.. and also fast asleep. Various charms and crystals hang from his antlers, which also sport a few burning candles.
"Don't come in Rostre, you'll mess up the floor," the mouse in charge tells the Naga. "We don't have time to add any bridges for you. Alptraum, can be a power source by any chance? We need to give the ritual an initial kick if or it will be an hour or more to get started, and that with the charged up booster artifacts we've already got."
Alptraum considers. "I can probably provide something, though if you tax me and I die, I will haunt you," he remarks and rubs his firehead a bit. "What do you need?"
"Life Magic," Trilby says, and gestures for Cyprian to stand in a particular circle. "Just in case we have to kill the patient to break the connection.. and start him back up again. And can you or Rostre make this 'thread' thing visible so we can see where it leads?"
"Where do you need me to stand?" Alptraum asks as he tiptoees through the chalk. Well, over it, not through it, that would elicit yelling.
"See that black chalk circle next to the stag?" Trilby points. "Stand there, I'll bring you something too. For now just make sure the patient doesn't wake up or fall over."
Cyprian is busy chanting now, and is holding a small glass ball in his hands while he does so. Rostre is also chanting, but there's a lot of arm-waving involved as well. Alptraum can feel the spirit energy building: maybe the goo actually charged her up a bit.
Alptraum weaves his way over to the black circle and takes up his position. He's never done an official ritual before! So ... he feels a bit lost. But, holding up the cervani? That he can do!
Trilby soon makes her way over, carrying something cupped in her hands. At first it looks like a silver teacup, but the silver is moving. "Where is your energy center?" the mouse asks Alptraum.
Alptraum wiggles the fingers of his right hand at Trilby. "In spite of what most guys might claim instead, it's my hand," he admits.
"Alright, will the fingers do for a connection, or does it need to be the.. pearl?" Trilby asks.
"Just me touching it should be fine," Alptraum says, "I can link it via the shadow."
"Alright, dip something in this," she says, holding out the cup full of silver liquid. "But don't lick it."
"Why not?" Alptraum asks as he dips two of his fingers into the liquid. "Just you saying that makes me want to."
"It's mildly toxic," Trilby says. "Poisonous things can be oddly good conduits for Life Magic," she explains.
"Oh, that explains me! I'm mildly toxic..." Alptraum jokes as he keeps his fingers in the cup for now, and offers to hold it with his left hand if need be.
"Just let them soak a bit, unless you feel a burning sensation," Trilby says, her eyes darting around to monitor her assistants. "You've seen this thread thing, right? Describe it to me."
"Mmmm, well, it looks like a thread. It sort of had a purplish hue to it, thin. Like a spider silk thread," Alptraum tries to explain. "Taught, glistening if slightly damp with dew."
"I'll probably need by focusing spectacles then," the mage mutters. Then she says, "That should be long enough, let me see your fingers."
Alptraum withdraws is now wet fingers. "Not where I usually like to stick my fingers," he jokes, but does take care not to drip any of the liquid anywhere.
There's a silvery skin over them now, but it doesn't tingle or burn (but those are the less sensitive fingers anyway). "Hopefully Rostre can make the thread visible then. Knowing where it links to the patient will guide our next steps."
Alptraum wiggles his fingers. "Funky," he claims then nods. "If she can't, I can always try to summon my demon-creature-friend who can," the Eeee comments. "She's a bit big and scary, though."
"Everyone is big and scary to me," Trilby claims, and carefully carries the cup away. "I'll be right back. If you have any way of examining the patient now is the time to try it."
Alptraum turns his attention back to the patient, and lets himself sort of defocus. Or rather, fall to his other senses, of aura, nad that sort of odd Barsunala sight which shows the more spirit-side of someone/something in the room.
As things turn silvery, there are several shadows on the Cervani. A dark line across his chest, and another along his scalp, while the antlers are black. Summer, by contrast, doesn't have any dark spots on her.
"There are some odd dark lines on his body. Perhaps where he was cut. One across his chest, another on his head, along the scalp," Alptraum explains as his head cants a little to the side. "Think of it like a spirit dead-zone. I see the lack of him in those points. Unlike Summer, who glows like a giggly schoolgirl."
"Hmm, we already had to break down his magical resistance, but changes could have been done with it if artifacts were used," Trilby says. "We'll try to focus on his heart and brain."
Alptraum touches the cervani with his left hand and tries to sort of shadow-tendril explore into him at those 'dead' zones.
It isn't exactly scar tissue, but it's not far off. It just has a similar sense, if not texture. The chest one goes deep, and fractures and spreads like a tree-root, touching on smaller dead spots on his heart. The one on his scalp is shallower, and seems to touch very specific point deep within the man's brain.
"Something has definitely affected his heart, and there's something tunneled into his brain," Alptraum calls out. "I can feel the lack of match, which is how I am tracing it."
"Does anything feel foreign?" Trilby asks, after distributing drops of the silvery liquid to various points in the magic circle.
Alptraum doesn't try to remove or alter anything. He mainly just traces out the off spots with the shadow, to build a mental picture of its shape.
While the brain intrusion doesn't seem to end in anything noticeable, the heart ones do end in little blobs of darkness that feel different from the rest of the heart.
"The heart spots feel foreign, the one on the head ... sorry, I can't tell. Too small," Alptraum apologizes.
"Neither sounds good," Trilby says, and stands in her own circle while the apprentices continue chanting. "Alright, time for the Grand Diagnostic," she announces. "Cyprian, will you able to keep him from thinking bad thoughts?"
"I'll maintain the sleep paralysis," Cyprian replies.
"Rostre, can you light up the threads?" the mouse asks the serpent.
"I am 'goo' to go," Rostre replies.
"Alptraum, ready to improvise if something weird happens?" Trilby asks.
"I have to be, so yes," Alptraum confirms as he draws back the shadow and lets his senses return to normal to conserve energy as well as improve reaction time. "Ready anytime."
There is musical tone (from a tuning fork), and the circle begins to light up with energy. Pulses of light race along the lines to meet in the central circle where the Cervani and Summer stand, and then the light jumps and beings to crawl up the figure, looking like.. well, mice. The man twitches as the mice crawl under his skin. Alptraum can sense some of them moving around inside Albrecht and investigating his organs. This has some side-effects, besides the twitching. Summer stares at one of them for a bit, before finally blushing and looking upward towards the buck's face instead. Another glow, this one more spiritual in nature begins to surround his chest and head as well.
Alptraum has his hand out, and is letting what he holds sort of flow into the circle as it may need. Though, most of his attention is really on the Cervani and his reactions. Certain ones even get an amused smirk, but at least he resists suggesting Summer take care of that. It's good he has the spiritual probing to focus on to curb his sarcastic nature.
The energy around the chest and head definitely have a Rostre feel. And not just because it looks like the ectoplasm she was working with earlier. It flows around like a liquid, until it finds the thread and runs along it, dripping like a curtain beneath. The thread is definitely going to the dark line on the chest, and so connected to the man's heart in multiple places. The little magical mice are also beginning to investigate that organ. It's disturbing, especially when they start on the head. Two of the little light-mice lookout from within the buck's eyes, their noses and whiskers extending out past the closed eyelids.
"Anyone ever tell you all this is really disturbing? I mean, I deal with supernatural all the time, but this gives me the jeeblies," Alptraum remarks a bit distractedly. "Did you have to use mice and make it look like he's being eaten, sort of?"
"Every mage's magic is an extension of themselves," Trilby claims, but is otherwise concentrating. "The heart is the area of transplantation, the brain probe is probably from the application of the memory overlay," she recites in a squeaky monotone.
"Ssssympathetic link," Rostre then hisses, her torso weaving back and forth hypnotically. "Too fine for essssence transssmisssion though.."
"All the poking around isn't stirring up any hidden conditioning," Cyprian reports.
The mice are really crowding together in the heart now.
"Nothing to report on my end, other than the stirring of his loins," Alptraum quips. "It it's not for transmission, what is the value of the link? Just a kill switch?"
"Most likely," Trilby says. "Bits of critical nerves and blood vessels and at least one valve have been.. swapped. If the mage dies, so do those bits, and that means Albrecht dies. But.. the same would hold going in the other direction I'd think. That's a big risk for the Royal Mage. Unless that's why these men were held captive in a mountain fortress."
"I could probably replace/regrow his missing bits," Alptraum notes, "And basically destroy those foreign bits in the process. Since I could fashion it out of shrinking shadowflesh as things regrow. It would be very fiddly, but I think I could do it."
"Have you done it before?" Trilby asks.
"Would you just need something to copy?" Summer asks at almost the same instant.
"Having something to copy would make it easier. And yes, I've done a regrow before, though not on something critical, more on damaged/missing skin and faces," Alptraum explains.
"We'll need time to prepare," Trilby notes. "We should be able to get another Cervani.. we'll need to check his son for issues too. And the rest. They can't all be like this, or there wouldn't be any of the mage's original heart left."
"Summer could be the clone-donor," Alptraum notes, "It's not like a female's heart is different."
Cyprian notes, "They may not all involve hearts. The connections could be trivial, but just knowing they exist means we will have to expend time and resources to sort them out."
"Mine is smaller," Summer notes. "But other than that, they shouldn't be different.."
"I don't have any solution to that, the issue of checking all the connections," Alptraum admits, "Sorry." How he has to comment to Summer, "Well, if you want it bigger, I could turn you into a guy."
"We'll check the boy, since we have him," Trilby says. "But for now we can't risk killing the mage. No telling if he can still influence the hostages directly or not. We'll see what we can come up with to get around this in the meantime. Rostre, can you see if there's any reference in your Big Book of Babelite Tricks to something that could have done this?"
"Of course, although the catalog iss by no meanss comprehensive," Rostre says.
"What about me?" Alptraum asks. "I understand you might not feel comfortable letting a heretic such as me help much, but, I will if you want."
"If you can replace all the bits in one go with your abilities, I'm not going to say no," Trilby says. "We don't have to deal with this in small steps. Copy Summer's heart and whatever else you need. We'll check if the boy has any of this stuff too."
"All right, that I can prepare for outside of this circle," Alptraum says, "I may have enough of Summer already known I could do it, but best to make sure with this level of fiddling."
"Yes, it probably demands a full fiddling," Summer agrees.
"Pervert," Alptraum remarks. "YOu're right at home in Babel."
"Alright then," Trilby says, and claps her hands. This signals all the little phantom mice to exit the buck. They use whatever orifices are closest, so they stream out of the man's nose, ears, mouth and lower openings. Even the very narrow one, which makes him shudder some more.
Alptraum briefly wonders what that would have felt like, and then kind of wants to try it. Pervert, indeed. He shakes his head a bit and mutters. Talk about corrupted; not only naturally a girl by default now, he finds disturbing things arousing. What the hell happened to him?
As the ritual is shut down, the apprentices begin to slouch a bit from the effort, while Trilby just starts squeaking instructions at them again. "Don't miss any of the sand! I want the carnoran dried and scraped up for next time, that stuff is expensive!"
Rostre slithers over. "I can carry him to bed," she offers. "You'll be careful of his.. uh.. pride?" Summer asks, as the buck is still in a state of arousal.
The Naga blows out the candles on the antlers. "Hmm? Oh, that isssn't another horn?" she asks.
"I'm sure she could deal with that by nursing on it for a while," Alptraum suggests, lewdly.
"I'll lay him on hisss back," Rostre promises and hefts the big buck into her arms. "Oof.. what do you feed these men?" she asks, riding a bit low as a result.
"Flowers and morning dew," Summer claims.
"The souls of the children they got rid of," Alptraum offers, helpfully, and grins.
"Soulsss are very light," Rostre claims and she carries the man to his recovery room.
Summer stretches. "I never realized how hard it is to keep someone upright," she says. "So.. is this fiddling going to wear me out?" she asks Alptraum. "You don't have to take my heart out or anything, right?"
Alptraum siiighs. "I can't even get a reaction out of you all. Tough crowd," he complains. Summer then gets his attention and he answers, "Well, no. The simple way is to just ken you again. The long and involved way would involve various forms of bondage, and stimulation until you passed out. Then I'd just ken you anyway."
"We'd better go to my room then," Summer says. "That sounds like it could be tiring," she claims, all with an innocent, straight face.
"You realize I'm just going to ken you. Not all that other stuff," Alptraum counters and grins.
"Are you suuure?" Summer asks. "Either way, I want to grab something to eat on the way. The commissary has a good salad-salad sandwich."
"I can only eat someone," Alptraum laments. "Lets go," he agrees and goes to follow Summer to whereveer."
The commissary does indeed provide Summer with a salad-salad sandwich, and she points all the bits that she actually grew herself, and asks if Alptraum can have soup. "Tomato soup is red," she explains.
"I can eat soup. I just can't eat anything solid. Color really doesn't matter," Alptraum comments as he sits in a chair and watches Summer a little, and also out of the corners of his eyes to see if anyone is staring.
The mages having lunch either look exhausted or on edge. The Eeee in particular seem jittery, although some of the others look.. odd. One Khatta mage picks at some sort of roast bird and seems to be waging an internal argument that makes him seem angry one moment and nervous the next.
Summer does bring Alptraum a mug of soup. It smells spicy, but at least doesn't have chunks of anything in it. "I sometimes like to dip bread in it," the deer claims.
"Because you want a bit more dough?" Alptraum jokes, then swirls the mug a bit and sips.
"I'm the doe you've bit more," Summer counters.
"I'll come for all of you later," Alptraum remarks to the other mages, then grins. "And true, you are. And you like it. Weirdo," he quips and winks at her. "Though all joking aside, this situation with that mage worries me, a lot."
"It's worrying everyone," Summer says quietly. "I wasn't on Caroban or Rephidim during the big Dream Ritual, but it shook a lot of mages to their core. So many collaborated with the Royal Mages, covered up dark rituals and stuff. Some of that went very high up. There's still political fallout from it, and calls to shut down the remaining big campus in Nagai."
"So having one of those mages here seems to be upsetting people for a number of reasons," the doe explains. "And worries about accusations and other stuff maybe."
"Accusations of what?" Alptraum asks. "I mean, I'm here too, so they can hardly claim some sort of collusion."
"Some of the mages here are from the old Babel campus, before the Boomer," Summer whispers, although Eeee could overhear anyway. "So there's a worry the captive mage could just start naming innocent mages of being involved with the ritual, and ruin them or worse. Just to be vindictive. And there are probably a lot of others who would believe any accusations. There's still a lot of bad blood, and fear that the Guild presence here in Babel could be pulled out at any moment if there's another riot or hints of ties to the Royal Mages."
"And the statement of myself would hold no sway at all?" Alptraum asks, actually curious. "I'm a known enemy of them, and I'm working with you. I would think that would do something in quelling concerns of collusion again. And what I say, the various Temples will generally back or follow. So, you're not in as much risk as people may fear. At least from Babel folk. I'm on your side, and that does at least carry weight with the people."
"But would you know for sure?" Summer asks. "A lot of them probably did work with them as apprentices. That was a big deal, being able to apprentice for a Royal Mage back before the ritual. Doesn't mean they did anything bad, but they might have pretended not to notice things the Guild would frown on. There are so few mages left in the world, and there's a sentiment of 'we need to pull together for survival' at odds with 'we need to make examples of rule-breakers'. It's all a big mess. I'm mostly a garden and farm mage. Most Earth Mages are. We don't get involved in stuff like this. But Babel is literally built with Earth Magic. It's.. just a weird situation to be in."
"I could know for sure," Alptraum notes, "And s could Cyprian, for that matter. If it came down to it, between us, we could make for a formidable defense. Not that I have much love for a group that tried to kill me in Rephidim, but as you've shown me, you're all more diverse and accepting than I really knew. If it came to it, I would do what I could to protect all of you, even the ones jittering and muttering around us."
"We weren't that diverse or accepting before," Summer claims. "I mean.. before we unified on Caroban. I originally trained on Rephidim, which had a lot of every sort. But there was a still a bit of nationalism involved. Competition between the campuses equated to national competition. And when the wars broke out.. It was the first time mages were on the front lines, and it was bad. My own class was attacked on Rephidim.. by mages we knew, but held allegiance with the Nagai Empire. It was just.. bad. We lost nearly half our numbers."
"A whole city got destroyed down in Safar, even," the doe notes.
"I know all too well what it is like to be pulled between two sides," Alptraum remarks and nods, then takes a drink of his soup. "I can't say what will happen, or may happen. All I can say is I'm on your side. I'll defend you, for whatever that might be worth. The thing is with any sort of change, it is uncomfortable. It's hard. And you have to be willing to let things go, and open your mind. It's also not overnight." He shrugs again and nods. "Though not anything I say would Caroban hold in any high regard. But, it does hold some sway here, at least. And I can help you in Babel."
"Even the Watch on Caroban.. the magic police.. had Babelite sympathizers.. although it isn't clear if that wasn't also religious," Summer notes. "Even Cyprian held to the religion of the Seven Sisters. His approach really did turn out for the best though, in the end, so it's not like there isn't precedent for someone like you helping out."
"Respecting the beliefs of a people generally helps in dealing with them, yes," Alptraum remarks, probably a bit dryly. "Still, if you'd rather I stay out of it, I can do that too."
"That's not my choice to make," Summer says. "I'm not from around here, and am still pretty recent. But I know this much: if that Royal Mage had tried to use hostages in old Babel, it wouldn't have mattered. So they know that things have changed, and they can use that to their advantage."
"It is your say," Alptraum points out, "Because the only actual Babel mage I know is Cyprian. So, your opinion actually does matter. No pressure. But nice try on trying to get out of it."
"You've got your own sense of morality, so that's what you should follow," Summer says, but sounds unsure. "I'm not so sure of my own anymore. Everything is gray in Babel, it feels like. I used to think everyone could be taken as they appeared. If a friend was always nice and helpful, then that's what she must be really be.. so a sudden flash of cold calculation would be something I'd brush aside. But now I feel like that sometimes. I have to second guess everything, imagine if people are really hiding things. Even me. It's easier to be close to you than to the other mages here."
"So.. if you want my opinion, I'd rather you didn't get too involved and end up being like everyone else here," Summer says, looking at Alptraum, "because then I wouldn't be as comfortable around you."
"Everything is gray in Babel. There are no easy answers, nor quick fixes. The wounds run back many centuries. They cannot be mended with simple things," Alptraum notes, "And I suppose I have some advantage in dealing with others, as I can feel a bit of what they do, so I know at least on some level if something is off. And people are complicated. Everyone has different facets. I mean, I used to live as a pickpocket and a con-man," he points out, then ends up shrugging some. "As for my own morality, I've been called an idyllic fool more than once. I saved the life of a sailor once, you know. Fell off his airship. The others laughed and jeered. I dove off and saved him. I also blew any hope of keeping a low profile that I was supposed to be keeping. I was called an idiot for exposing myself for someone I didn't know, never knew, and probably wouldn't see again. And you know in some sense they were right. But, I know all people have lives, families, those that love them. All have hopes and dreams. Some I've even gotten to walk and see. So, stupid or not, I can't turn my back, even on people I don't know. As when you have the chance to see lives through others eyes, to live and experience moments, dreams, hopes .... It's hard to just write someone off as 'doesn't matter'. Everyone matters to someone. And every act can make a difference. What may seem like a ripple from a pebble dropped in a lake can still grow into a great wave given just the right circumstance. What if that sailor some day manages to make a delivery of medicine to some place dying of a plague, for example. That one act of a stranger saving him at no real reward to them, affected so many other lives later. So, you never really know what you do today could change tomorrow. You just have to have the courage to do it."
Summer nibbles on her sandwich in silence for a moment, then offers, "You should talk to Master Scravel. He used to be really high up in the Babelite Guild before.. it got eaten by the Boomer. He's always been here, and is seems like he's a hundred years old. He'll definitely have stronger opinions that I do."
"Species?" Alptraum inquires, curious. "And really, why would anyone that important talk to me. I'm just an idiot who's gotten lucky, eh?"
"Eeee, Earth Mage," Summer says. "Technically he's my supervisor, but I hardly ever see him. I don't think he ever leaves this tower anymore."
"Would he even want to talk to me?" Alptraum asks and swirls his mug lazily.
"I don't know," Summer admits. "I think he prays to Sunala though. I don't understand Babelite, but I know that name."
"I would think if he did, he would come to talk to me already since I've been here a lot. I mean, I'm sure people talk," Alptraum notes.
"He doesn't move that quickly," the doe notes. "He's ancient. I think Rostre brings him his meals, so I'm pretty sure he isn't secretly undead. I.. honestly try to avoid him as much as possible."
"Sounds like a fun guy. If I show up, he might die from fright," Alptraum points out.
"I'm not sure anything could kill him at this point," Summer says, and.. keeps a straight face about it. "At some point, even death may not want to deal with him."
"I doubt that," Alptraum says and shrugs some. "But now that you've mentioned him, your duty is to introduce me."
The does eyes go wide at that. "Alriiiight," she says. "Are you going to fiddle with me first though?"
"I suppose. Though I can't promise you won't end up ... unscarred," Alptraum teases. "You could use some body decoration."
"I just grew out of my spots," the doe claims, and flicks her ears.
"I'm talking metal rings, Miss Innocence," Alptraum teases, and grins.
"I can't work metal," Summer admits. "Not very good with minerals. I'm decent with wood though. I once made a sort of fancy filigree woody vine glove that went to my elbow, for a party."
Alptraum sighs. "I don't know if you're being deliberately obtuse, or just really that innocent," he laments.
The doe grins and flicks her ears. "Which do you find more interesting?" she asks.
"Pushing you to your limits, and corrupting you," Alptraum cackles and downs the rest of his mug. "And failing that, maybe getting you pregnant," he adds and waggles his brow. "Come on, Miss Fiddle With me..."