When Alptraum returned to the Mages Guild, he was met with an olfactory assault before he even got inside. One of the big doors was open, and a stiff, foul smelling breeze was blowing out from it. The guards didn't look too well off from having to stand next to it either. It reminded Alptraum a bit of the few times Hexen tried to cook something, but the smell was less earthy and more chemical in this case. But there was a lot of sulfur to the stink.

"Dagh, what the hell is that?" Alptraum barks and immediately clamps his hand over his nose in annoyance. "What did you people do?"

"It came up from down below," one the guards managers to answer. "I think something exploded. But probably not someone."

"Probably the naga. She is always doing something gross," Alptraum sighs and still keeps covering his nose. "Can I come in and check?"

"If you're willing to risk it," the guard says. "I don't think the stink is sticky."

The source of the breeze is soon encountered, the white Jupani Air Mage, Gusty. He appears to be actively drawing the air up from down below to direct out the main door. He does this with.. and folding hand fan. It must be enchanted through for the wind it produces.

"What did you do?" Alptraum asks the air mage, and arches his brow too. He's also still covering his nose. "What did you do?"

The Mage stops chanting for a moment to say, "I'm just trying to save our sinuses, Rostre did something."

"Are you sure you didn't do it?" Alptraum peers, then shakes his head. "I guess I'll go see her then. Oy." Shaking his head, he heads down further.

The stink does get stronger with depth, and every door has been closed along the way. Alptraum doesn't encounter anyone else before reaching Rostre's lab. The door is ajar, but not fully open.

So, Alptraum kicks the door open. "What in dagh's name did you do?" he shouts, irritated.

Rostre turns from her workbench to look at Alptraum. Her eyes look milky from her nicitating membranes, and she also has white spots across her snout, throat and face. "Ah, Alptraum," she hisses. "I have it!" she claims, and holds out a round-belied vial of goo.

"What? A horrible stink? Discovering how to become blind? Trying to evacuate the tower singlehandedly?" Alptraum asks.

"Thosssse are jussst bonussess," the serpect claims. "Thiss will detect the Curse Threads."

"When brought close to a linked victim, it will glow," Rostre claims. "The brighter the glow, the closer it is to the connection point."

"There's a small problem with how it smells though. No one will want to use it," Alptraum points out, "And you really better clean your face and eyes before they burn."

"There'sss a smell?" Rostre asks. "Perhapss it was from the explosssive distillation process."

"There is a horrible smell, yes. You're lucky they haven't decided to burn the tower down," Alptraum comments. "But, at least that should help figure out how people are attached. I should probably take it to Mt. Rephath first, since those are the most unknown."

"I probably shouldn't know where the victimss are," Rostre notes. "I hope I haven't caused issuess with the holding cell, but it iss deeper down."

"Stuff rises, so that shouldn't have been affected. What is this about not knowing where they are? Doesn't that need to be brought close to them? How would that happen if you don't go to them?" Alptraum asks.

"Well.. they should be someplace sssecure," Rostre says. "And I asssumed you would use the detector."

"Then why does it matter what you know?" Alptraum asks. "I don't understand the problem."

"If you aren't going, then no, I don't?" Alptraum says, even more confused. "If I'm going and I'm the one using it, I really don't understand why it matters what you know."

"Well.. the prisoner is a Mind Mage," Rostre whispers. "Not that my mind is weak, but I haven't practiced defending againssst probess that might give away ssecrets."

Alptraum rubs his head. "Again, not what I meant. You said it needed to e brought near the victims. I just ... you know what, nevermind," Alptraum gives up and goes back to another topic. "You should clean your face."

"Oh, yesss, I will do that," the Naga says, setting the vial down on the workbench (next to the smoking remains of a bowl) and heads into the back room to wash up.

Alptraum takes the chance to move closer to look at the vial. He also dares to try and sniff the vial..

The vial itself doesn't stink, and has a tight stopper on it. Inside is swirling silvery goo that.. encased as it is.. looks a bit like a liquid pearl.

"She got one of the mages to pleasure themselves into a vial," Alptraum says with a sigh. "Gross."

Of course, Alptraum himself has left some of that fluid in Rostre's care himself. So it might be in the mix.

"What in Dagh's name is wrong with me?" Alptraum wonders as he peers at the vial. "Why did I even give her that? Gods, I'm such a moron."

"What?" Rostre asks, as she emerges again, still holding a towel. She does seem to freckled anymore.

"Nothing. So, how do I use this? Just wave it around someone and take notes on when it glows?" Alptraum asks.

"Yess, but wave it slowly," Rostre says. "Too much turbulence might make it.. weird."

"Ssss," Rostre hisses. "Weird in that it might try to esscape the vial. There iss a bit of ectoplasm in there that might try to take the form of a ssslug."

"Ectoplasssm likes to take on a sshape," Rostre says. Then smiles to Alptraum and says, "A little bit. Ssso it should work besst for you."

"Quality ingredientsss matter, and Spirit Magic isss strengthened by sssympathetic influences," Rostre explains. "Alsso, so it would be better at reacting to magic that could cause death."

"I'll allow that excuse for being gross," Alptraum concedes. "How long will it, well, last?"

"It should lassst for a few dayss if it iss kept calm and unstoppered," Rostre says. "The more excited it gets, the more sssluggish it becomes."

"Unstoppered? Shouldn't the stopper remain on?" Alptraum asks. "And that short? I guess it needs to be used soon."

"Keep it sstoppered," Rostre agrees. "I can put it into a dormant sstate until you need it, but once outside of thiss room it will begin to lose potency. Unless you can manage a sympathetic recharge."

"Okay, so I could leave it here and that would be fine?" Alptraum asks. "I don't know what you mean by sympathetic recharging? I'm not a mage."

"All right. Do you know if I'm needed here now for anything or if i should go deal with this now?" Alptraum asks

"Well, if you found out more about the Needle, you might want to tell Cyprian," Rostre suggests. "He should be with the prisssoner."

"So, you're saying I should go tell Cyprian what I know about the needle first, then? It's hardly anything; Gorphat didn't know of it, but was pissed to hear about it," Alptraum notes. "So, relatively useless, but hey, it at least eliminates an avenue."

"Well, the prisssoner iss hiss ressponsibility, so knowing ass much as posssible, if it is 'I couldn't find out for ssure' is probably going to help him," the Naga notes. "He iss very sstressed about all of it."

"Him? Stressed? That I don't believe at all. He's in control of everything," Alptraum notes and shrugs. "Well, off to see him, then," he adds as he heads back off and away from the smell, sort of.

It's back up a bit to a junction, then down deeper to the anti-magic holding cell observation room. There are a few mages present besides Cyprian, who is the only one standing. There's the Jupani Air Mage, Gusty, and an Eeee Shadow Mage that Alptraum doesn't recognize.

"We should compare notes sometime," Alptraum comments to the unrecognized Shadow Mage, and even siddles up to him and wraps his shadow cloak around him, then waggles his brow.

It takes the Eeee a moment to realize what's happened, since they were in the middle of muttering something. The the Eeee blinks and nearly jumps at noticing Alptraum. There's a squeak. "What?" the Eeee asks, sounding feminine despite having close-cropped hair.

"You're a shadow mage, I manipulate living shadow itself," Alptraum purrs into the Eeee's ear, and the shadow cloak undulates. "That means we have something in common, no?"

"We do?" the mage asks. She has violet eyes, which are rare in Eeee (and in general, but seem to crop up in mages). "I can't do that.." she notes, wiggling her fingers at the undulating shadow.

"Oh, I can do a lot more than this," Alptraum purrs, and the shadow sinks into the other Eeee's wings to demonstrate. How a wing membrane can feel like it's being licked on the inside is anyone's guess, but... "Aren't you ... curious?"

"How are you.. uh.." the mage starts to say, then bites her lip and just stands very still. She doesn't seem very Babelite, or else might have a behavioral quirk which seems common to mages. "I don't recognize you," she finally admits in a whisper.

"Alptraum Reisender. The legendary Barsunala of Babel," Alptraum coos, and then licks the poor mage's ear. "You know, the demigod son of the Goddess of Death."

"Mage Hush," the Shadow Mage clarifies. "Me. I'm Hush. I.. specialize in.. silence," she adds.

"Ah, and here I thought you were telling me to shut up," Alptraum teases. "I don't make you nervous, do I?"

"Yes?" the Mage offers. "I'm.. not from around here," she says apologetically. "I work at the government tower, mostly."

"You're one of my kind, and therefore under my preview, 'from around here' or not", Alptraum continues to tease. He does at least step back, though he's holding her hand still. He he also withdraws the shadow, and then runs a claw lightly along the back of her hand, and draws the weird 'Barsunala' sign in the fur, though he also ends up 'dying' the fur white in the process (temporarily!) to mark her. He cannot resist making someone nervous and weird.

"Yer married now, Hushy," Gusty claims, having finished whatever it was he was muttering about when Alptraum arrived.

"Nooo," she says, eyes wide. "No no no.. I can't be. I haven't paid off my education yet.." she babbles.

"Oh relax, I'm just messing with you," Alptraum says and 'wipes' the mark away from her hand. (Granted he's also secretly moving it to right over her hoohoo, but she'll find THAT later. "I really am the Barsunala though. I'm here to see Cyprian, but I wanted to say hello to you too, since you're new. I guess they didn't warn you about me."

"That would ruin the fun," Gusty claims, while Hush just shakes her head. "I'm all about not listening to.. new, or much of anything," Hush says. "I make sure nobody else can listen in on things. Or in this case.. uh.. say anything."

Alptraum makes a shadow puppet (full sized!) of himself that mimics him exactly. "I am serious when I say I manipulate shadow some," Alptraum quips. "Nice to meet you." He sticks out his hand, and so does the shadow version.

"Oh.. uh.. Is that your familiar?" Hush asks, and offers the hand that wasn't previously marked.

"Nope an actual extension of myself," Alptraum explains as the shadow seems to melt right back into his body. "I am probably unique."

"So.. does your normal shadow go away when you make things from it?" Hush asks. The room is dimly lit by lamps, so it's not like there are any really good shadows being cast.

"Nope, it's hard to explain really, other than I ate a shadow dragon," Alptraum tries to explain, then shrugs. "What brings you here?"

Hush points at the slit that Cyprian is staring through (and chanting) into the room with the prisoner in it. "I have to keep the silence enchantment going, so that the prisoner can't cast spells.. inside his sound-proof helmet."

"Has he been trying to? You know the simpler solution to that is to just cut his larynx..." Alptraum offers.

"Well.. I assume they want him to talk at some later time," Hush winces. Nope, not from Babel.

"Oh, well in that case I could just remove his ability to speak for a while," Alptraum offers. "I can flesh mold."

Hush just gets a confused look on her face. "I don't think there's mold in there," she then says.

"No no, I mean I can change him. For example, I could turn him into a hog," Alptraum explains more.

"But aren't hogs big dangerous animals that eat people?" Hush asks, wide-eyed again.

"What about a tree?" Hush asks. "I know that can be done. Also a statue. I mean, it can be reversed. Not easily but.."

"I'm not prepared to allow Life Magic to be used upon him," Cyprian notes, coming out of his own spellworking. "He's a Mage of Life and Mind, and may have things set to trigger should either type of magic be used on him."

"Ah, but I am not quite life magic. I'm sort of out of all of your definitions," Alptraum points out. "Also, glad to see you back with us. I was so disappointed when you didn't run into my arms when I came in."

"I had keep up the dispel enchantment for mind magic," Cyprian says. His eyes look a bit bloodshot. "Gusty here is keeping the air pressure in there as low as is safe, to make sure Pancrazio cannot maintain full consciousness. We haven't seen any sympathetic reactions in the two.. hostages.. we have available to us, so it's the best we can do right now."

"So, you can't make the date with Gorphat I arranged for you, then," Alptraum says and frowns.

"She thinks you have a nice butt," Alptraum says. "Also, that she's never heard of anything called 'Gorphat's Needle, but is mad that someone is using it in Her name."

"Hmmm," Cyprian ponders, tapping his chin. "Did she suggest a way to safely arrange for that?"

"Well, I just use my powers to draw him into Magog's hell for an interview," Alptraum offers. "Since I do operate outside of traditional mage roles, she implied I could walk past your wards in this case."

"That won't physically move him though will it?" Cyprian asks, looking through the viewing slit. "We're supposed to keep him intact."

"It will split him, spiritually speaking. Physically, he will remain as he is," Alptraum explains. "You can come with me if you wish."

"That might be best," Cyprian says. "It does not sound as if it will be pleasant, however."

"Gods no, it'll be awful," Alptraum confirms. "How stalward is your sense of smell?"

"I never had reason to test it to destruction, if that's what you mean," Cyprian says. "Is it a spiritual sort of odor?"

"Never having been exposed to it, I probably couldn't say how strongly it will effect me," Cyprian says. "But I should be able to mentally filter it out. Hopefully."

"Mmmmm. Betcha can't," Alptraum admits, "But you'll survive. Anyone else want to go?"

"I need to watch that old Pan-crazy-o doesn't stir," Gusty claims for an excuse.

"Should.. somebody watch Mage Cyprian?" Hush asks. "Or do you two just need to sit down first?" She doesn't seem willing to volunteer to go along.

"Only those part of the Babelite faith would likely be welcome," Cyprian claims.

"Well, it could be part of inducting her," Alptraum offers, "But I understand you wishing to spare her. So be it."

"I do want to sit down though," Cyprian says, and makes use of one of the padded stools.

"I do too, and I promise I won't sit in your lap," Alptraum says. He goes and sits near a wall on the floor, and leans on it.

"We'll all return, do not worry. The worst that could happen is Gorphat marries Cyprian," Alptraum promises.

Alptraum closes his eyes and just starts to breathe deeply. His focus turns to Cyprian, and then towards the Mage in the cell adjacent, trying to find him through a more dreamy path, in a world between worlds. It's finding them first, their minds, their 'trace'. Then it's moving them to an in-between, the space between waking and sleep. The twilight of the mind. Unfortunately this time it will be decorated in putrid flesh and rot; Magog's realm.

Gorphat's Hell; The Way of All Flesh
This huge cavern is piled to the ceiling with corpses - and not just any corpses, but those dead by horrible disease. Bodies that are bloated, deformed or covered in tumors and ulcers. The fermenting bodies sometimes squirm a bit, as if still possessed of some bit of life. The sounds of munching, slurping and cracking come from deeper within the maze created by the mounts of rotting flesh.

Cyprian falls to his knees when they arrive. Whether from the shock of transition, the odor, or because Gorphat and Sunala are also present is unknown.

Alptraum moves to catch Cyprian. "I did warn you," he says as he tries desperately to NOT breathe through his nose.

Their is another figure that remains upright though, the Royal Mage. He does bow slightly towards the two goddesses though.

"I am humbled before the Kindly Ones," Cyprian says, choking only slightly and keeping his head down.

"Don't bother with false worship," Alptraum remarks to the standing mage. He lets poor Cyprian remain down. "You are here to face trial and to answer for your actions," he tells the Royal Mage.

"We recognize your obeisance, Avenger," Sunala and Gorphat say in unison, though in very different voices. Sunala is in her full aspect here, looking much older than Srinala does. And both of them seem taller as well. "You may rise."

As Cyprian gets back to his feet without slipping in the gore, the Royal Mage turns to Alptraum. "Oh, I was not worshipping," he claims. "I put a lot of effort into manifesting them with the Dream Ritual, after all. But if they do not remember me, I am Caradoc Pancrazio, loyal servant to the Sabaoth and the High Princess after him, and thus to Babel."

"And now you get to face them, unfettered by your attempts to control them," Alptraum points out. "I assume you know who I am."

"The correct Barsunala, rather than the false one," Pancrazio says. "Even then the Yodh conspired against their own High Priest, the Sabaoth. Nothing that I or any other citizen of Babel did at the behest of the Sabaoth or High Princess was a crime. To not obey them, however, would be a crime against Babel."

"You committed crimes against the Guild," Cyprian says. "Forbidden rituals and sacrifices."

"Actually, it would not, because you were following Amenlichli ultimately, the enemy of all living," Alptraum corrects, "If you want to get technical. You were worshipping the demon cat of Aztepa."

"For one who claims to only be a servant, your name betrays you," Sunala adds. "All tongues are known to Death, and while your name is split between different languages, it still means 'love of great power' in the end. You have perverted the order of life and death, which is a crime against both Myself and Gorphat."

"I knew only the Sabaoth and High Princess, not the demon goddess you claim I served," Pancrazio tells Alptraum, but does smirk slightly at Sunala's accusation.

"Dronnel, the Sabbaoth, was corrupted by Amenlichi, the wielder of the Shadow of Amena. You'd like her; she wanted power and domination, and killed entire civilizations, including her own, to become prettymuch the Goddess of Undeath. She played the Sabaoth as a puppet; his orders were hers," Alptraum explains. "It's how she was able to corrupt Babel and our Goddesses over time. She cannot 'die' so can play the 'long con', so to speak, and did. You were just her tool too."

"Nearly every forbidden zone is the result of Her and Her war with the living," Alptraum adds.

"So you strike now at my religion?" the mage claims, "For I am of the Dronnelite faith. The Lord of the Sky sacrificed himself for our benefit, and his Daughters exist to make us stronger and guide us in the ways of the gods. So that we might be as gods to the lesser races."

"I don't think that last bit is officially part of the Cult of Dronnel," Cyprian points out.

"I strike at the perversion of it, not at the origin. The original Dronnell was a good man, before he was warped. And you helped betray him," Alptraum points out.

"Again, I am accused of things beyond my knowledge," Pancrazio claims. "I do not have the wisdom and knowledge of the Barsunala. I believed what I was raised to believe, and I served my King and then Queen in their own efforts at godhood."

"There are several competing creation myths," Cyprian concedes. "But the architecture of the Dream Ritual follows the main create myth, not that of the Dronnelites," he notes.

"Because that is what the majority of Babel adhered to, along with the Sabaoth and High Princess," Pancrazio says. "I was not the sole architect of the Grand Ritual, after all. And there were plenty of other Mages who saw fit to contribute, despite being from outside of Babel."

"Ah, so now you plead ignorance?" Alptraum asks. "That is no defense. All I have learned you could have as well with some effort. The old city where the secrets of 'eternal life' were taken from to keep what was left of Dronnell 'alive' all these centuries was ... an Aztepa city. Ruled over by Amenlichli's will. She 'gave' you the arts and artifacts your group used. You never once thought to question them?" Alptraum comments, then waves his hand a bit.

"Oh, we questioned, but perhaps came to the conclusion that they were either divine, ancient, or alien," Pancrazio says. "Their origins are as myth-shrouded as our own beliefs. They were tools that performed miracles. And miracles are to be attributed to the Kindly Ones."

"Ancient, yes, and predates the current Mage Guild organizational which in itself was the fallout from the Olympian war. anyway, speaking of those; the Needle of Gorphat. Gorphat Herself I believe takes issue with that one, using a tool not Hers, in Her name," he says and then steps back a bit. "But I cannot speak for Her; she is here and can address her feelings on that directly." He bows his head slightly to Gorphat. "Goddess," he intones.

"The Mages Guild and the Coalition of Babel have branded you a criminal and a murderer," Cyprian says. "Regardless of whether you believed you were following the will of the gods, the Sabaoth, or a fly on the wall, you have attacked the Yodhrephath and attempted to aid an enemy of Babel known as the General. Those are crimes, and you knew they were crimes when you committed to them.

"I do indeed," Gorphat says. "You will tell us the nature of its use in regards to the people you have 'connected' to with it."

"You would defy Me?" Gorphat asks angrily, and seems to get bigger and darker in reflection of her mood.

"He believes himself above you, Goddess," Alptraum replies, calmly, "Since he had some minor part in helping you take corporeal form for the first time in centuries."

"Well, what is it you can do to me?" Pancrazio asks. "I am already kept prisoner, on the very edge of death. If you afflict me, then that will surely push me too far, and Cyprian will be derived of his prisoner, but at that point you will learn of what the Needle was used for. Too late for it to matter, of course. Now, the Gorphat I remember would not hesitate to sacrifice others to get what she wants. Sacrifice was an important part of the old religion, wasn't it? There is power in sacrifice." That latter comment seems aimed at Cyprian.

"And what is to prevent us from simply severing these strange connections?" Sunala asks. "Because the ones connected to would die? I might have something to say about that."

"It is certainly a gamble on my part, isn't it?" Pancrazio says. He gestures, and many ropes of flesh-and-leather seem to sprout from his body and fade into the distance.

"Except I have taught Gorphat, my Mother Sunala, and the others that there are ways, perhaps longer, but bring better results. As an example, Gorphat now has more willing worshipers than ever, because she learned. She grew. She surpassed bindings of the old stories. So, yes, the old Gorphat would have sacrificed anyone; but she learned more wisdom once I shattered the chains you tried to bind them with. Yes, wisdom, the true source of all power, and in it, has grown beyond the simple form you tried to make of Her."

"If they then have grown so far beyond the Lore, then they will have no problem breaking these particular ties," Pancrazio says. "They are not, strictly speaking, formed of a hundred Eeee skins, but they are made of my flesh and that of others."

"Oh, and I don't have to kill you either. There are far worse things that can be done to you that would keep you very much alive, and utterly impotent," Alptraum comments, and shrugs. "A raging old wizard, unable to do anything, to anyone, ever again. Pointed at, mocked, laughed at, powerless, pointless."

"I am already rendered powerless, Barsunala," Pancrazio points out. "I cannot speak, nor hear, nor see, nor move, nor taste. I am kept in a prison of my own body. Utterly defenseless."

"He is not your Creator. He used magic to give your essence form, and with that form, bind you to his will. He was the forger of a new set of chains for the sisters," Alptraum explains, "Link by link, with his compatriots."

"The Ritual of Seven Wounds was not completed," Sunala claims. "Only Inala succumbed to the control. I refused to participate."

"And that, dear Mage, is a mercy to what I could make of you," Alptraum comments simply. "You think you are so wise, old, and immune. You are in a mercy right now. I have parleyed with creatures so far beyond what you believe yourself to be it is laughable. I know far worse punishments and prisons you could be in."

"The Ritual meant to elevate the High Princess to Godhood," Cyprian notes, and looks to Alptraum. "This has gotten complicated."

"This isn't that, however," Cyprian claims. "That ritual was the removal of Vael's organs by the Seven to release themselves from his bonds. If that was the case, then cutting out parts of Pancrazio would only free the hostages of their bonds. Which makes no sense here. But, they are all part of a ritual, that much is certain. One which can be powered by their sacrifice.. or perhaps by Pancrazio's"

"I am so tempted to just hand him over to Kaira," Alptraum mutters. "And let him live in an echo for a time."

"He probably shares some of their organs too, Cyprian. It's a bi-directional link. They have part of him, he has part of them. One gestalt entity linked together by threads," Alptraum suggests to Cyprian.

"So if something happens to either side, it triggers a cascade effect among the links," he adds.

"I don't think anything we do to his spirit is going to have an effect on the ritual," Cyprian suggests. "He is Life and Mind, so any Spirit influence would have had to be handled by an artefact or a Spirit Mage. We know the spirit traps in the hostages are diversions."

"I don't think Pancrazio is the ritual anchor," Cyprian says. "It must be one of the others."

"I'm not suggesting affecting the ritual, I'm suggesting giving him over to eternal hells until he simply tells us what we need to know," Alptraum remarks, then shrugs some. "And no, he likely is not. I'd wager on the vartan. The most robust of them all. Hardest to kill, sturdy, and who would ever suspect a vartan, with all their fears of magic, would be a ritual center.""

"I'm not familiar with all of them," Cyprian says. "We shouldn't discuss it further in front of him though."

"Mind Mages aren't invited into card games, as a general rule," Cyprian says. "I think it is safe to say that Pancrazio is the trigger though. He wouldn't risk any of the others just dying or being killed setting it all off. I want to isolate those links, and make sure we have them all accounted for."

"I ask because in gambling, what a person doesn't say, their movements, twitches, even blinks, can provide information," Alptraum says, "It's learning to read someone's mind without magic, basically. I knew the pompous mage here wouldn't tell us anything. I also knew he'd be disrespectful to the Goddesses since he feels himself above them, simply because he played a minor part in empowering their essence to manifest. He feels he created them; and he did not. He helped, poorly I might add, to feed power into them. It's kind of sad, really. He's so smug that he cannot even see how utterly he failed. In everything. The Sabbaoth is dead, permanently. His attempts to enslave the believe of Babel, failed. His invasion of the city, failed. Recovery of the General's body parts; failed. He's so utterly clueless to how much his long life has been a string of failures I find it incredibly amusing."

"I suppose it depends on if those failures were his actual goals to begin with," Cyprian says. "He's like Thath. A man who can think and plot in knots, always hiding what he's really doing. I don't think like that. Mages generally don't. And I don't know anyone who thinks like that."

"People who are involved with Babelite politics and survive - and thrive - for decades at it might as well be from Abaddon," Cyprian claims. "And I do not have a access to the Prime Minister for something like this."

"Besides, he could have altered his own memories, buried sub-personas or any manner of Mind Magery to hide things from himself even."

"I do. But what I meant was I do some of that too," Alptraum says and just sighs. "Or do you really think I'm the goofy dork I seem to be?"

"I prefer to think of you as someone approachable who doesn't plan decades in advance and have a list of people to get rid of that are in the way of said plan," Cyprian says.

"You don't think of people as things or game pieces, in other words," Cypran tells Alptraum.

"I don't plan to get rid of people, I plan ways to make them my allies and friends," Alptraum notes.

"Him though, when he looks at someone it's like he's figuring out which parts of them are most useful to him," Cyprian says of Pancrazio. "That's what the Royal Mages were like. Everyone is just spare parts or ritual components."

"Fair enough, I suppose. And if we aren't going to get much more out of him, I may as well cut this short," Alptraum says, then turns and bows deeply to Gorphat and Sunala. "I apologize for taking your important time for this," he says.

The Sisters look unhappy. "None of us can offer advice here," Sunala admits. "We may be selfish and a bit amoral towards others, but we are not evil. We cannot offer any insight as a result."

"These are, alas, mortal issues. They are behaviors I am grateful you do not have," Alptraum says, "You are, as ever, glorious."

Gorphat smiles though, and winks at Cyprian, while Sunala continues to scowl (but that is her most popular expression anyway).

Alptraum actually reaches out and touches Sunala's hand. "Mother," he says, softly. He turns back to the other two. Well, I guess I shall return the old fool to his cell, and you to your body before the other mages burn me at the stake." he tells Cyprian.

Cyprian bravely returns Gorphat's smile, then turns to Alptraum and says, "Yes, let's please go back.."

It isn't long before Cyprian and Alptraum are aware of the observation cell again. Cyprian looks very unstable, and a bit nauseous.

Alptraum, meanwhile, looks just fine. "Hey, Hush," he sing-sings, "Ever want to go on a date with a supernatural being?"

"I've never been on a date with a natural one," Hush claims, and looks worriedly at Cyprian.

Cyprian does stabilize himself, and takes a deep breath. "That was horrible," he admits.

"I did warn you," Alptraum points out to Cyprian. "I deal with stuff like that all the time."

"That sounds.. disturbing," Cyprian says, and then yawns widely. "I haven't slept in a day. I'm going to go do that, nightmares be damned."

"Mind Magic works on waking minds, you're thinking of Dream Magic," Cyprian notes, and tries to stand up.

"I could send you into a controlled dream, then. Want a dream with numerous amorous unicorns?" Alptraum asks.

"I think I will need restful sleep, not something that will further wear me out," Cyprian says. "But thank you for the strange offer."

"Okay, I won't send the shrine maiden to keep you warm, either," Alptraum promises.

"I'm hungry," Hush notes. "I'm going to the cafeteria." She looks at Alptraum and Cyprian, as if assuming at least one of them is going the same way.

Alptraum just shakes his head. "In the end, I'll just be some footnote in a book: weirdo, please ignore," he comments. "I can go too, but I'm a vampire. I'd have to eat you."

"I was born here, but grew up there, and yes, I am a vampire," Alptraum clarifies.

"I'm from Chronotopia originally," Hush claims. "My family had to leave though when I showed signs of magic potential. They don't allow mages there, except their priests. So I guess we were neighbors."

"Hopefully, my tribe of gypsies never swindled your parents, then," Alptraum admits.

"I don't remember meeting any gypsies," Hush notes. "You can watch me eat though if you like. I don't know if that counts as a date for supernatural beings."

Alptraum shrugs. "No idea, but I should go and give Cyprian a break; I know I try his patience," he admits and heads towards the door.

Mages Guild Cafeteria
Once a dining hall, the cafeteria hasn't changed much. Instead of long tables there are scattered smaller ones, and buffet tables of various live and cold edibles. Hot food is available from the kitchen, although there are some enchanted tureens for hot beverages and soups. Since mages work all hours, especially in Babel where half the city is active at any given time, the selection of food tends to cover all meal options.

"I don't know if it's day or night or morning or evening," Hush admits as she and Alptraum arrive. "I don't know if they serve blood-based dishes. Are there such things?" she asks. There are a few mages scattered about, each keeping to themselves except for some novices clustered near one of the large fireplaces. Alptraum can spot Summer Forest at one of the tables, engrossed in a book that she's cribbing notes from while she munches on a small loaf of bread.

"Don't mistake the book for food, Summer," Alptraum calls over to the doe. His attention is right back to Hush after, though. "Of course there are blood-based dishes, from porridge, to sausages. Clotting is a problem, though," he explains and shrugs a bit. "As for the time, it's ... midday, I think. I lose track too."

"Lunch then," Hush says. "But I missed breakfast.. who is your friend?" she asks.

"The Earth Mage? That's Summer. I figured you'd have met her by now. She's social and likes bats," Alptraum claims.

"I haven't had much chance to mingle," Hush says, and starts assembling a sandwich from cold meat, what is probably an egg dish and what might be a pate made from bugs."

"The pages are specially treated to taste bad," Summer calls back. This gets a some annoyed looks from the others trying eat on their own.

"Haven't had time, or didn't want to because we're all weirdos?" Alptraum asks, amused. He then calls back, asking as a joke, "Are they also spicy so you won't use them as bathroom paper?"

"That's a good idea," Summer says, and waves for Alptraum and his friend to join her.

"Oh oh, look out, you'll have to meet someone," Alptraum teases Hush. "And then it's the parties ... and waking up with fur paint and a nose ring..."

"What, really?" Hush asks, clutching her sandwich. "Is she one of those Earth Mages that makes drugs?"

"No, she just has an odd fascination with fungus. She once even snogged one," Alptraum jokes as he pushes her over towards Summer.

"You must be Mage Hush," Summer says, clearing some space. She has a lot of books open that she stacks up.

"Summer, hush, Hush, Summer," Alptraum introduces. He then has to pause and think about that. "That sounds like the title of a slightly amorous novel," he admits, then piruettes around, pulls out a chair for Hush using one foot, then his own, then flops his butt into it.

"I don't think we've met before," Hush says. Summer gestures with her chunk of bread. It has a strong smell of onions. "Small guild, you hear everything if you grow food for people."

Summer licks her nose. "Most of us are stuck in the tower most of the time," she explains.

"I hardly ever get to come back to the guild," Hush says. "I'm guessing you don't stay here?" she asks Alptraum.

"And yet still manage to have amazing adventures full of strange and wondrous creatures," Alptraum tacks on. "Also weird and gross ones."

"No, I couldn't. There are factions of the guild, not here mind you, that would prefer to see me vivisected," Alptraum comments as he leans back a bit. "So I live in the space between, the shadows. The dark recesses and hidden places. Basically, I'm a hobo."

"He lives with the Yodh, I think," Summer says. "He gets to visit all the temples, and take people with him that would normally be banned."

"Mmmm, actually, I really don't have a home in Babel. I sort of move around between places," Alptraum admits.

"Where do you keep your clothes then?" Hush asks while nibbling on her sandwich. "I always have to take a clean set with me when I go to work."

"Well, I don't have many clothes, and I can make my own if I really need to. Though I do have some stashed here and there about," Alptraum answers after some thought. "See? I'm a hobo."

"My special talent, breaking all notions of what a demigod is! A hobo is just a city gypsy, really," Alptraum says. "Though, if I have to be less silly about it, I have to be careful to not show too much favoritism to any one group or things get ... well, Babelite Eeee get jealous."

"So, is that why were aren't supposed to talk about you outside of guild hall?" Summer asks.

Hush blinks. "Nobody told me that.. but then my whole job is about not talking about things."

"Partially, I imagine," Alptraum admits. "I'm ... complicated to deal with. I represent something quite different than Babel typically is, but I also have traditional roles people expect, so it's a line that has to be walked carefully. I really am a strange creature, all joking aside about it. Probably unique."

"But you don't have to follow the.. uh.. the Lore right?" Summer asks. "Because I doubt it would have let you do all this stuff otherwise."

"I don't have to follow anything I don't want to," Alptraum confirms. "Right now, for example, I could find a potato and put it on you as a hat if I wanted to."

"And you could tell people that yes, it's a tuber," Alptraum jokes, and grins fangily. "And which one of you will be my meal?"

"Hush should be, so you can tell which of us tastes better," Summer says, although her ears betray the joking. Hush blinks and asks, "But.. won't that kill me? I don't have a lot of blood."

"No, it won't kill you," Alptraum says and rolls his eyes. "You're already a ghoul, er girl." he jokes.

"The.. which ones are they?" Hush asks, squeezing her sandwich. "It it because I'm a virgin or something? Vampires can smell that, right?"

"They grow vines and make statues and grow stuff that messes with your head worse than a Mind or Dream Mage can," Hush claims. "Tentacles are just vines with muscles, aren't they?"

Alptraum snaps his fingers. "I know, Summer should corrupt you. She will advance to the next level," he claims.

"You mean watch you use them on Summer?" Hush asks. Summer giggles. "I am not the corrupting type, you know. I'm cute and soft."

"Oh please, Miss I'm a Spring Goddess, please help me bloom," Alptraum comments to Summer as he gives here the side-eye. "Shall I tell that dream in detail...?"

"Well, didn't I make a good Spring Goddess?" Summer asks. "I think it was because of the tree in there."

"And then there is Trilby and the Pirates. You're all so repressed," Alptraum laments.

"We need our energy for magic," Hush claims. "At least I think I do. It's so exhausting sometimes."

"Piffle," Alptraum remarks. "Also, Summer will probably tell you I like to cause trouble."

"She's an Earth Mage though, they like trouble," Hush insists. "And.. playing in the dirt and talking to trees.."

"I don't like trouble," Hush claims. "That's.. how I got assigned here, I think."

Alptraum peers at Hush. "I could probably find a Barinala to break you in, if you want," he offers.

"That sounds like trouble," Hush says. "I'm not against having fun, so long as it isn't too dangerous or distracting." She then leans forward to confide, "Sometimes I even drink a glass of wine."

Alptraum ooos. "It is trouble. Fun trouble, though," Alptraum claims. "Or maybe you prefer girls? That's common amongst our kind."

"Well, you should drink a glass of wine and let Alptraum drink it through you," Summer suggests.

"Or, I could let you two talk more and go hunt for evil mage bits," Alptraum offers.

"Those had bits of Dronnell in them," Alptraum corrects. "Dronnell was sort of the founder of 'modern' Babel. Really, he was a corrupted puppet and did horrible things," he explains to Hush.

"You think Cyprian is weird?" Alptraum inquires. "I thought all lady Eeee lusted after him."

"Maybe for women who don't know Mind Mages that well," Hush claims. "Or are trouble, like Earth Mages."

"You're a fun guy," Summer claims. "And not my supervisor. Master Cyprian is.. kind of dull. And I don't lust, exactly."

"Plus, I do suppose he has that human girl he likes, anyway," Alptraum comments, then looks at Hush. "So, you'd probably have to shave yourself to get his attention."

Alptraum snickers. "I'm not sure she qualifies as a girlfriend, exactly, but yes, he knows one," Alptraum explains and shrugs.

"I bet Hush would really enjoy meeting Rostre," Summer suggests, and hides her amusement by eating more bread.

"I'm weirder than all of you, though," Alptraum concedes. "And neither of you have yet agreed to be my meal."

"If you want to properly belong in Babel, you need to let a demigod drink some of your blood," Summer claims.

"Ah, so this is so I will be weird like everyone else here then, and fit in better," Hush says.

"Not the act, but the who," Alptraum says, "You are now one of the weird mages that deals with me."

"Right," Alptraum remarks rather dryly. "And yes, I'm teasing, I don't have to gnaw on any one."

"Cat-dragon," Alptraum explains and shrugs. "Lust, rage, need, topped with a side of silly."

"That seems appropriate," Hush says. "Do different types of mages taste different because of their magic affinities?"

"Seems appropriate," Summer says, and finishes her bread. "I need to review my notes and gather ingredients for my crazy mind-altering drugs."

"No, it's a surprise," Summer claims, smiles, and gathers up her books and notes.

"For whom," Summer corrects. "For you! I promised you a wild experience, didn't I?"

Alptraum shrugs. "You're all weird," he comments. "Maybe I should introduce you to the sisters so they can make you a proper Eeee," he teases.

"What does that mean?" Hush asks, once Summer has left. Then she bites her sandwich.

"Less prudish," Alptraum answers simply, then pats his lap. "Come here, meal..."

"And nobody will stare?" Hush asks nervously. "I can put up a shadow veil and they won't notice."

"I.. don't know what's appropriate here," Hush admits. "I didn't know any vampires on Caroban. I don't think I did. I might have." She stuffs the rest of her sandwich into her mouth, making her cheeks puff out a bit, then quickly moves to sit in Alptraum's lap. She's very light.

"You can put up the veil if you want. You need to relax," Alptraum notes, then licks her neck.

"Then relax," Alptraum comments, again, and licks, again. Jaws then open and close around her the point where her neck and shoulder meet. The fangs prick lightly to give her some warning ... then he tightens his jaw and fully bites down and the fangs sink right in. What starts likely as a sharp sort of sticking pain fades to a dull throb, then an oddly enjoyable, yet extremely strange sort of sensation with the sucking starts.

Hush squeaks, but softly. She apparently isn't used to making noises. Her wings spread out a bit, but she does relax at least some after bite.

Alptraum continues, though he does make it 'worse' by also letting shadow flow into her and ken her. So, not only can she feel sucking, she feels like she's being licked all over, on the inside.

That is harder to stay calm through, and she starts to squirm. "Is that.. anti.. coagulant.." she murmurs.

Alptraum can't exactly talk, so he tries silent-sign just in case she knows it. "Not exactly," he signs. He also further doesn't help by focusing that odd licking feeling to right between her legs.

It doesn't feel like she's ever had any kind of physical trauma in her life, or else she heals very well. No sign of old bruises or broken bones. She still seems a bit frail though, but that could be from youth and having to maintain long spells.

Alptraum also doesn't torment her too long with that, at least. The frailty bothers him, but then city Eeee are frail. He's used to being, well, not.

She's very quiet. Until her stomach rumbles from eating too fast and she seems to come out of a trance. "Hmmm?" she goes.

Alptraum continues for a bit longer, then withdraws, and licks her neck, though it's more shadow than saliva as he's healing/closing the punctures as he withdraws.

"That made me a little dizzy," Hush says. She hasn't noticed the novices by the fireplace looking at them in silence. Alptraum recognizes Rostre's apprentice at least, and one that might have been one of Cyprian's.

The novices break into giggles, but Rostre's gets up and goes the to kitchen, then returns with a cup of steaming liquid. "She should drink this," she tells Alptraum. "When I get dizzy from Rostre's fumes it clears my head."

Alptraum smirks. "Dare I ask what the rumors are about me here?" he asks the novice and takes the cup for Hush, and then holds it to her lips.

"Rumors?" the apprentice asks. "I dunno, do you want to start one? I mean, I know what I've seen, and you seem to like most people."

Alptraum nods. "Well, I do like most people. I'm just curious what stories are told about me, I suppose."

"That would be rude," the girl insists. "And we couldn't watch the surprise on people's faces when they actually meet you either. But mainly we just share what we've seen, like how you work with Cyprian and Trilby and Rostre and even take Summer out sometimes. They never talk about what you all get up to though. So it's probably secret. Unless you want to tell me about it all?" she asks with a grin.

Alptraum chuckles. "No," he says and flicks her nose. "You're too young for such things."

"Like you weren't up to mischief at my age?" she asks, crossing her arms. Hush begins to really start gulping down her drink.

Alptraum smirks. "I was up to plenty, and you're still too young to hear about them," he counters.

"We don't get to have any fun here, so stories are all we have," the girl claims. "And long baths to get the stink off. I worry my clothes with burst into flame sometimes.."

"That can be exciting. Or if all your pelt falls out," Alptraum notes. "You could join Gorphat's temple."

"I'm not allowed to leave the Guild Hall," she claims. "Without a chaperone. And I'm certainly not going out with Rostre!"

"Because she's crazy, and has no sense of smell," the apprentice claims. "Who knows where she would go?"

"That's part of the fun. YOu get to have an adventure," Alptraum points out. "Being safe all the time is boring."

"What if she's out.. grave robbing though?" the girl asks, and shudders a little.

"Oh, she's horribly embarrassing. It's still fun," Alptraum claims and rolls his eyes. "Kids, so worried about being embarrassed."

"Being embarrassed is embarrassing," the girl points out. "Don't let this one drink any more of the special brew. It's thrice-brewed Mateh with an ounce of honey in it. If she drinks another one she may have a heart attack."

"All right, I won't. Though I must get going. I do have to go deal with some stuff out of the tower now. So, she'll be on her own soon," Alptraum claims, then pats Hush's butt to get her to stand.

She practically jumps up. "When can I have more of that?" she asks. "I'm ready for my next shift already."

"A week," Alptraum claims, "Come on, you." He grabs her hand and starts pulling her towards the exit.