Despite Ariel Azale's assurance that they were "near" Babel, it appears to have been a very relative assessment. A nearby town that she had been hinging her hopes on to get airship transport on to Babel, to her surprise, is almost abandoned – and no air transport is forthcoming. So, it is necessary for Alptraum, Ariel, and her three hirelings (Spin, Claw and Striker) to press on by wing or foot (Ariel having no choice in the matter but to go by foot) in search of a remaining settlement.

Whatever has befallen Babel has had a ripple effect across the countryside, as many have packed up and moved to greener pastures to the south or west; several trading lanes that once flowed into Babel have slowed to a trickle at best, and towns that relied upon this trade for their livelihood have suffered for it. Still, what hasn't decreased is the incidence of supernatural disturbances – or the belief in such things – and Ariel and her entourage have been able to find employment along the way exorcising houses and chasing down will-o'-wisps and bogeybeasts for barter and room and board.

Along the way, Alptraum has managed to acquire a better set of clothes (to replace the coarse, scratchy fabric of the Aelfin-made attire he was wearing before), a crossbow more suited to an Eeee rather than Korv frame, a chitin dagger, and a dozen chitin-tipped bolts.

These are backwater places, and coin is hard to come by, so by way of currency, all he has at the moment is a carved ivory comb with intricate engravings representing some heavenly place, which he might be able to pawn off if need be. (All of his shekels – including the cursed treasure of Klaus Schmidt – were confiscated … along with the ghost as well, it seems, since Klaus hasn't shown up on any holidays since then.)

Although Alptraum is doing reasonably well given his circumstances, of his possessions he started this journey with, he now has only his keepsake pendant (which, fortunately, the cultists didn't think to take from him). There's no telling what has become of his luggage left behind on the Princess of Stygia.

Alptraum and his companions eventually reach a genuine city – the Free City of Zannara – wherein they are able to acquire airship transport to Babel for a reasonable price … as it seems that these days, most passengers are heading the other direction.

Their transport is the Silver Ghost, a venerable and small but sprightly craft that has seen many repairs and much refitting, and upon which they are the only passengers. It's just as well that they finally get to Babel, because Spin, Claw and Striker were no doubt starting to get suspicious of Alptraum's dining habits…

It is an overcast, dreary afternoon, the visibility limited by the haze of drizzle falling from the gray clouds. Below, the plains have given way to thick forests on rolling foothills, then dotted by villages and private estates. The mountains of the Golan Range are dim silhouettes glimpsed through the haze, but at last, up ahead, there appears a cluster of seven prominent peaks, joined by a slightly shorter eighth peak, and then for a moment what appears to be a ninth … until one realizes that the ninth "peak" is not a mountain at all, but rather an enormous ziggurat: the Tower of Babel.

The crater valley which the Seven Sisters cradle in a "C" arrangement has been filled almost level, it seems, by towers of astounding proportions. At this distance, specks can be seen moving about, but those are airships or flights of giant airborne mounts – if there are countless Eeee flitting about, they are too small to be noticed this far away. (Either that, or else with the drizzle, they've opted to stay indoors.) Clusters of light hint at ritual fires burning at the mountain temples.

Alptraum's quiet time to take in his first sight of Babel, however, is interrupted when a "patrol ship" claiming to be allied with the "Guardians of the Tower" intercepts the Silver Ghost, signaling by mirror that the Ghost is to power down its engines and prepare to be boarded. They accent their serious purpose by firing a flaming bolt of some sort off the Ghost's bow.

"They claim that we've compromised their air space," the captain, a graying Eeee by the name of Yusef Ainar says, his brow furrowed in frustration. "The map clearly shows this to be the correct lane."

"Bandits," the rust-furred Fnerf engineer, Ghryff, growls. "They either want a 'toll' – or our lives."

"We won't survive a fight," the captain says, the color draining from his ears. "We have no choice. Have Gyaffi bring us to a stop." He casts a sidelong glance to Alptraum. "You'd best notify your mistress."

"Nothing is ever simple. Can I once have an uneventful trip on a ship?" Alptraum mutters to himself, then looks over to the captain. "Avralie, I'll let her know. Keep in mind we may have to fight, anyway. If they're bandits, perhaps they might also want the ship. It's a thought, anyway. Be prepared for the possibility of fighting, or abandoning ship quickly. At least if they pull in close, they won't be able to use that flaming bolt thing," Alptraum replies grimly and heads to the door to notify Ariel.

The Fnerf engineer scampers back to the crew area, to relay orders to his daughter, and to help gear up for flight or combat (what little the Silver Ghost can dish out, that is). Alptraum makes his way down the access corridor to the rune deck, where Ariel is seated on the floor, within a magic circle, surrounded by candles and semi-precious stones – all of them affixed firmly to the floor with dabs of cooled wax. She is quiet as Alptraum enters the rune deck, but breaks her silence as she looks up to him and asks, "Is there something wrong?"

"Around me? Always, it seems. We've been asked to stand down and prepare to be boarded," Alptraum replies. "Some group claming to be allied with the Guardians of the Tower or some such. One of the crew suspects them to just be bandits. We're standing down – for the moment. But, we should be prepared to fight if need be."

The door to the cabin opens, as Claw sticks his head out. "Guardians of the Tower? Oh, Zakaro on a diet! They're ruled by a warrior blood-drinking savage who thinks he's going to be the next Sabaoth! They'll kill us all and take the ship! I'm out of here!"

"Claw," Ariel says, frowning, "you won't get paid if you abandon me."

"A blood drinker?" Alptraum inquires, eyebrow raised. "Besides, they'll shoot you down if you try to fly out at the moment."

"Not if we all fly out," Claw cries, looking to Spin and Striker. "Too many targets! Let's go! We're close enough to escape into the Streets Below … or maybe even throw ourselves on the mercy of one of the temples!"

"Now that's desperate," Striker grumbles, raising an eyebrow of his own.

"Like any temple would show us mercy. Look at me, and remember who tried to kill me," Alptraum adds.

"Well, that was a Yodhsunala," Claw protests. "A death priestess. What do you expect?"

Spin butts in with, "Nobody's flying away. Not yet. They may just be asking for a toll. Or throwing their weight around, patrolling for 'bandits' and making a show of power. The general could be trying to restore order. You never know – as long as he's in command, after all."

"My family," Alptraum points out. then shrugs. "I agree with Spin. We wait this out. No use jumping to conclusions and doing something rash."

"Rash? You've all got death-wishes!" Claw cries, sounding increasingly unstable. "Sunala take you all if you're so intent on dying, but I'm going to live!" And with that, he makes a dash toward one of the window-panels.

"Stop him!" Ariel cries out.

Alptraum leaps after Claw. "You'll kill us all by doing that," he snarls.

Alptraum's reflexes prove very timely, as Claw was on the verge of popping out the breakaway panel to make a quick escape from the ship – causing who-knows-what result from the effort. Claw goes to the floor underneath Alptraum, and Spin and Striker join in to pin him down. In short order, they have the panicked bat tied up – though he still screams and struggles.

"Sorry, Claw," Spin says. "It's for your own good. And ours, really."

Alptraum nods in agreement to that. "We'd all most assuredly be dead if you fled now. They'd think we were up to no good," Alptraum comments.

Whatever Claw screams back is largely incoherent, as the ship slows to a stop. Ariel remains seated within the center of her circle, taking deep breaths and sitting up straight, looking to be very intent on maintaining her poise, as a faintly blue-white wisp rises from the circle and limns her in a ghostly aura. At that, she finally rises. "Insurance," she says, looking to each of the Eeee in turn.

Alptraum nods grimly to Ariel. His hand slips down to his side and pats his dagger, reassuring himself he is armed this time. "Well, shall we go to greet our boarders, then?" he asks. "And for goodness's sake, let's all be polite. Hopefully it is just a toll and we can move on."

Ariel nods and heads out of the room, and Striker is the last to leave, shaking his head at the screaming Claw as he closes the door to the rune deck, only partially quieting the noise. The airship shakes as grapples are attached to the gondola by Eeee scouts from the other vessel – which has drawn alongside by now. Even though the Silver Ghost has slowed to a stop, it has already covered enough distance to be over the outskirts of Babel, with buildings visible far below. The boarders have no need of gangplanks – only an open hatch, which the captain provides (rather than goading them into forcing their way in). Three heavily armed Eeee land on the bridge, but many times more that are airborne, circling the prone airship.

Alptraum bows slightly to the newly arrived Eeee, but says nothing. Better to let the Captain speak for the ship. For now, anyway.

"Who are you, and what business brings you to Babel?" the lead warrior demands, casting dubious looks at those gathered – but all the more so on the Khatta mage than any of the others.

Ariel is the first to answer. "I am Sihr Ariel bint Azale of the Sphere of Spirit, and I am here to meet with Grand Vizier Thath. He would be displeased if I am greatly delayed."

"I am Alptraum Reisender, and have traveled here to honor my mother whom has died. She lived here," Alptraum replies, focusing hard to suppress his accent as best he can. "I met the others on my journey and we have traveled together for safety."

Practice is serving Alptraum well, and perhaps this long journey to get to Babel has done him some good. At least to his own hears, he sounds anything but Sylvanian. Not exactly fluent Babel, but at least not Sylvanian.

The lead warrior looks between Ariel and Alptraum, then breaks out laughing. "On business for Thath? You expect that to mean anything to me?"

Ariel seems taken aback, though she quickly covers it. Evidently, she thought that it would. "We have no time for games. What is it you expect of us?"

The warrior glares at Ariel, and for a moment, it seems they're intent upon a staring contest. At last, though, the Eeee breaks it by growling, "You will permit us to search the ship. We will confiscate any illegal properties being transported into Babel, and assess any fines we see fit for violations."

The second warrior chimes in, "There is a one hundred shekel tariff on all Caroban mages entering the city."

Alptraum inhales slowly, hoping that Ariel has enough money to cover the cost. He doesn't want to have to argue the point with armed guards.

Ariel bites her lip at this. "You should finish your inspection first, before I begin paying fines and taxes. It would save you so much trouble."

The head warrior snaps his fingers, and the other two move forward, shoving Ariel aside as they push their way to the central corridor. The head warrior remains on the bridge.

"Have many airships come this way recently?" Alptraum inquires of the guard. His desire to know if perhaps Nekara and Autumn-Storm have already been through here beats out his wariness of speaking.

"Information costs, foreigner," the warrior bites back. Apparently Alptraum's accent doesn't quite pass for native, no.

Alptraum nods and replies, "Then I must go without. Thank you, sir."

From the sounds coming from the back, the two other warriors are trashing the place. It's just as well that the passengers are traveling light. "What's the meaning of this man tied up in the back?" one shouts.

Spin's ears splay. "He's with me," he says. "He's excitable. Panics easily." Claw does much to bolster this claim by screeching until one of the warriors silences him with a boot to the midsection.

"Exactly," Alptraum adds.

Alptraum holds himself still, resisting his usual urge to fidget when nervous. Come on, hurry up, he thinks.

The search is long and drawn out, but at last the warriors come back up front, looking greatly disappointed. The head warrior seems even more disappointed at their looks.

"It looks as if you are legitimate visitors to Babel," the head warrior says, with obvious reluctance as he looks at Ariel, "but Caroban is no longer welcome here. You will be watched."

"One hundred shekels," the second warrior says, holding out his open hand to Ariel.

The first warrior backhands him, knocking him back, but glaring daggers at Ariel even as he does so.

Alptraum glances toward Ariel, wondering what she is going to do: pay – or argue.

Ariel seems taken aback, and for a moment looks as if she's not sure what to do, either.

The first warrior's gaze lingers on Ariel a moment more, and then he says, "There are no fines to be collected. But if you do anything to dishonor our beliefs, you will pay in blood. We have heard the word of Envoy the Exile, one of your own: it was the College that brought down the Boomer on Babel. We will not forget, and we will not forgive. But if you are here on the business of Babelites … I will let you pass."

Alptraum looks to Ariel. This is news to him. The College was responsible for the attack? Still, cannot judge one person by the actions of the group. Alptraum bows again to the guard and says, "Thank you, sir. We will do nothing to dishonor Babel."

Ariel snaps out of whatever has frozen her tongue, and she gives a short nod as well. "As he says, I will do no dishonor to Babel."

The first warrior turns back to Alptraum, and there's something odd in his eyes … like he's sizing Alptraum up.

Alptraum looks toward the first warrior, silver eyes locking on those of the Eeee. What now? he ponders.

Suddenly, whatever the first warrior was thinking, he's decided. "Defend yourself," he orders, and in a quick motion, he raises a gauntleted hand as if to strike Alptraum across the face.

Alptraum's hand whips up quickly and stops the other Eeee's gauntleted hand from striking. His eyes remain focused on the warrior's eyes as he tries to keep his expression unreadable. No move is made by Alptraum to draw his dagger.

The warrior fixes his gaze on Alptraum, his gauntlet still testing his strength … but then he withdraws, and nods, cracking a faint smile. "You have some muscle on you," he remarks. "If you come to Babel to honor your dead mother, you should think of coming with us to the Tower. The General could use another warrior for Babel's cause."

"Perhaps I will visit the Tower after visiting my mother's tomb," Alptraum replies as he lowers his hand. "I am not certain how long I will be remaining in Babel. May I have your name so that I can tell those who guard the tower that you requested I come should I decide to join the cause?"

"Gotrekis bar Kesekis," the warrior says, bringing his fist up to his chest in a salute. "But do not take too long to make your decision. Rephidim mounts its forces and builds its wicked alliance, hoping to finish Babel off once and for all. If you tarry too long, the fate of all will be decided without you."

Striker hisses to Spin, "How come we don't get invited to join their army?" He's silenced with a "hsst!" from Spin.

Alptraum nods firmly. "I will consider your request, Gotrekis," he replies. "The trip to my mother's tomb should not take too long and I will have time to consider it along the way."

Gotrekis gives a curt nod, and then steps to the opening from the bridge, looking back to the others. "Let's go!" And with that, he leaps out, snapping out his wings, and taking to the air. The two others follow suit – though the warrior Gotrekis backhanded gives Alptraum a brief glare before following suit. And then they are gone.

"You can stop screaming now!" Spin cries toward the back, even though actually Claw is not screaming at the moment. "Looks like we get to live another hour."

Alptraum lets out a long sigh of relief. "Well, that was … nerve-wracking. When he swung at me I thought we were in trouble. I wonder why he did that," Alptraum says. "Ah well. At least we're all alive, eh?"

Ariel lets out a relieved breath. "That went better than I expected."

Alptraum nods, saying, "And how. What's this about some Thrath person?"

Outside, the "bandits" detach their grappling lines, and the other airship pulls away, with its entourage of fliers in its wake, some of them rejoining the ship. The captain at last closes the boarding panel. "Start 'er up again!" he calls to the engineer.

"Thath," Ariel corrects. "He used to be the Vizier for the Sabaoth. He holds considerable power in Babel, and is very well connected. Or … so I was led to believe." She frowns, looking uncertain. "If anyone could provide answers, he most certainly could."

Alptraum shrugs. "Well, I would suggest not using his name again, judging from their reaction and things I've heard while traveling about the state of things. I may be ignorant of the politics here, but I think we're better off seeming just ordinary travelers," he replies.

Ariel nods shortly. "I agree with your assessment." And just then, the engines start up again.

The captain smiles, albeit somewhat nervously and maybe even ironically, as he gestures to the city, "Welcome, my friends, to Babel."

At last, the Silver Ghost reaches its destination, and at last Ariel manages to find someone impressed enough with her intent to see the Grand Vizier. They are allowed to land not far away from the tower that is now home to the Coalition – a symbol of an alliance of surviving noble houses and other interests in an attempt to provide some governance of Babel (though apparently the Guardians of the Tower are not part of this coalition, as Alptraum picks up).

As they enter the courtyard atop the tower, Alptraum is struck by great contrasts. Here, there is a sign of wealth and power … though there are cracks in the stone, and other hints that as much care is put into refurbishing this place, this is a place fallen from greater heights … and even more accentuated by the fact that the tower stands within sight of a great hole that has been carved into the center of the city, with cleft buildings along its sides, and piles of rubble at its base.

But before he has long to dwell on this, a serpentine man(?) in long velvet robes slithers across the court, followed by a Savanite with a collar around her bowed neck and adorned in the plainest of white shifts. "Greetings!" the snake hisses, splaying his hands in an expansive, welcoming gesture. "Mage Ariel, is it not? It has been so long!"

Ariel bows her head in return. "Officer Vishai, this is Alptraum bar Reisender." She doesn't introduce the three other Eeee with her, for whatever reason.

Alptraum watches the man enter, then glances toward the Savanite, noting the collar. So, they are slaves here. That's h – he starts to think, only to be interrupted by Ariel's introduction. He bows slightly to the reptile and says, "Greetings. Your friend Ariel was kind enough to allow me to travel with her when I was separated from my friends." He then wonders why she introduced only him, thinking back to Rephidim and the dream. There was a snake in it, wasn't there?

The snake bobs his head in greeting to Alptraum as well. "If you are a friend of Mage Ariel, you are more than welcome here. Keesha, tend to the needs of our guests. I shall speak with Mage Ariel, for I am certain we have much to catch up on."

The Savanite – evidently Keesha – bows low, her braided locks swinging as she does so, and then she stands again, and gestures to an airy-looking building nearby with walls formed of arches, seeming to have not a single space shut off from the outside air – save for a solid ceiling above one's head.

"Thank you, Keesha," Alptraum signs to the Savanite and walks toward the arches. I wonder how long they expect me to stay here? he ponders. I hope they'll let me leave when I choose.

Other Savanites tend to Alptraum and the other Eeee, though he is separated from them, and he is given the distinct impression that he is being given more personal attention than they. Although the slaves give deference to the other Eeee – Spin, Claw and Striker – they still seem a degree more subservient to Alptraum. Even though Alptraum has demonstrated that he knows Savanite Sign, and the servants respond to his signs, they do not respond in kind, except for the most general of gestures and pantomime, or an offering of this or that.

"This" or "that" consists of offers of fruit, candied bugs, or drink – water, fruit juice or wine. Blood is certainly not on the menu, nor live yiffles.

Although the room Alptraum spends the intervening time in is open to the air on the sides, it is comfortable, with fires lit nearby to keep the immediate area at a pleasing temperature, with many cushions to recline upon.

Alptraum gets a bit frustrated that the Savanites won't reply in kind. It also bothers him how subservient they seem; he'd rather not be waited on, thinking himself less than important. He grudgingly accepts a glass of fruit juice, finding that he's missed drinking the ones his adoptive mother often made, and sighs.

Once Alptraum has been served, all the Savanites fade away, leaving only Keesha attending the bat, playing her harp near the fire, strumming a relaxing melody that – given the fatigue Alptraum didn't realize he had until now – makes him almost inclined to doze off to pass the time. Afternoon has given way to sunset, and it's now in the evening, without any clear way for him to tell the time. (Fortunately, he went hunting shortly before getting within sight of Babel, or he'd be hungry.)

"Keesha, what is going on here?" Alptraum asks in sign as the Savanite plays. "I may not be a city-dweller, but I can tell when something's up. Why is everyone treating me like someone important?"

Keesha stops playing, and looks at Alptraum for a few moments, blinking. She sets down the harp, then signs, "You wish me to sign?"

"I would like that, yes," Alptraum signs in reply. "I'm not sure how they treat your kind here, but from where I'm from is different. One of my good friends is a Savanite: Autumn-Storm."

Keesha smiles and nods. "Are you tired? I shall show you to a room if you wish. You may have a bed or a perch. I shall keep you company if you so wish. You are a guest of the Grand Vizier, and it is only right to show you hospitality."

"The Grand Vizier? Thath?" Alptraum asks, looking surprised. "I'm tired – but worried. My friends might be out on the streets and I'm worried for them. Not sure I could sleep if I wanted to."

"You can do what pleases you, then," Keesha signs, "and I will do what you wish. But some do not like to see waving hands. Please be free to speak. My ears are healthy."

"Why am I being treated differently?" Alptraum asks aloud, then.

The Savanite looks confused.

"I'm being treated differently than the other Eeee that were with me," Alptraum says.

Keesha signs, "They are servants of the mage. You are a friend."

"Oh, I see," Alptraum replies. "Um, you wouldn't happen to know where the nearest temple to Sunala is, would you? I think my friends would have gone to one."

Keesha blinks several times at this, then simply points out through one of the archways. The drizzle has let off now, and a tall and dark mountain – with a ziggurat atop its peak – can be clearly made out, with a winding path lit by torches along its way leading to the top. Alptraum has seen this mountain before.

Alptraum noticeably shivers, recognizing the mountain in the distance. "I see," he replies, his hopes that he wouldn't have to go there dashed. "Have there been many travelers to Babel in the past week or so? Do you know?" he then asks a minute later.

Keesha shakes her head. "Most leave the city," she signs.

Alptraum nods at that, looking disappointed. "Thank you," he then says. "I think I will go to sleep. There's not much more for me to do here. A bed, definitely. I've never slept in a perch. I don't think I want to walk the streets at night."

Keesha nods, and stands, setting the harp aside, and holds out a hand for Alptraum, gesturing for him to follow her.

Alptraum stands, setting his glass to the side. "Lead on," he says with a smile and follows her.

Despite the simplicity of the room and the seeming lack of privacy, there is the illusion of being totally alone, as no one appears through the windows to spy on him – or, at least, if they do, they manage to escape his notice.

Alptraum finds sleep quickly enough, but doesn't seem to embrace it for very long. Perhaps it's the toll of the journey. Perhaps it's sleeping in such a strange place, albeit the city where he was born. Or perhaps it is just the worry on his mind for his friends. Whatever the reason, the Eeee finds himself awake again, probably a few hours after he first laid down. He sits up slowly, silver eyes blinking and he scratches his bare side, having removed his shirt before going to bed. He yawns and looks around, wondering the time.

"It's only a little past midnight," comes a whisper from the shadows, though the echoes clearly spell out to Alptraum's ken ears that there is an Eeee girl in heavy, sound-dampening robes standing in the corner. "Not sleeping well?"

Alptraum blinks again and looks to the corner trying to make out who's there. "Not really," he replies, then asks, "Who're you? Why are you in my room?"

"So many questions," the girl says with a giggle. "Barada would be rich off you."

Alptraum laughs. "Yodhbarada, I take it," Alptraum replies with a smirk. His hand comes down and rests on the hilt of his dagger near the bed. "What brings you here?"

The Eeee steps forward from the shadows, the pale Procession-light making her features more evident. She is a brownish-black bat with gray hair that seems to have been tinted toward blue so that she possesses a certain air of being "silvery." She wears what appears to be a cloak of rich velvets and over robes of lighter-weight silks secured by gilt shoulder pads, which lock about her neck in a collar which has a symbolic keyhole at the base of the throat. "I am Priestess Davaryna of the Temple of Barada," she says, "and you, Alptraum bar Reisender, bring me here, for you have many secrets and many questions, and my Mistress is in the business of both."

Alptraum chuckles again and says, "Well, questions I have. Answers I lack. I know very little of what's going on – or who I am, for that matter. How did I bring you here?"

"Barada guides me," the girl says, giggling and rocking on her heels more like a child in adult clothes than a priestess as she claims to be. "She knows who you are. She knows many things. But Her answers will cost you. What do you have to offer Her?"

"Little, I'm afraid. I'm lost and confused. But, I suspects she wants something in particular from me, doesn't she?" Alptraum replies, remembering what Nekara told him about them. "If there's something she desires to know, ask it. I'll answer if I choose."

"Well! What's your deepest, darkest secret? And what is it you wish to know? If I like the answer to the first, I may be more generous in answering the second," the girl says with an impish giggle.

Alptraum chuckles and grins, "Well, that's asking a bit much, now isn't it? I know my mother was a Yodhsunala, but I do not know her name. Second, I do not know if I even had another name than the one my adoptive parents gave me. But, answering what my darkest secret is … well. I do not feel the answers to those questions are worth that answer from me."

The priestess grins, and rocks back and forth on her heels again. "Your mother was not a Yodhsunala," she says, giggling.

"Hm, that's not what I was told," Alptraum replies, trying to keep from sounding too curious. "And how do I know you're not lying, hmm? To goad me into revealing something."

"I can tell you who your mother was," the priestess says, cocking her head to one side. "And, if I weren't giving you a true answer, I wouldn't be giving the Yodhbarada a very good name, now would I? But I'll tell you enough that you can figure out it's true on your own – with a little work."

"What, are you going to tell me my mother was Sunala herself or some such?" Alptraum replies. "That would be a bit impossible, I'd imagine."

"No," the Yodhbarada says, "I'm not going to tell you that. And, in fact, I'm not going to tell you anything more at all unless you tell me something gooooooood." She winks conspiratorially.

"I can tell you something embarrassing, if that will satisfy you," Alptraum replies.

"That might do," the Yodhbarada says.

"I fell for a Savanite. I should've known better, but," Alptraum says and shakes his head. "An Eeee, smitten with a feline."

"Mmmm. Not Keesha, obviously," the Yodhbarada notes. "All right, so maybe that's worth something. And for that much, I'll give you a little more. Your mother was not a Yodhsunala, but you were cared for by one, and her name is Mariamara."

Alptraum nods, "Good information to know … though I suspect Mariamara is no longer living."

"You suspect wrong," the Yodhbarada says with a wink, and resumes rocking on her heels.

"Really now? That's promising. I don't suppose she's at the temple?" Alptraum asks.

"I don't suppose I'd be telling you without something more exciting than merely lusting after a slave," Davaryna teases.

"She wasn't a slave," Alptraum comments.

"Ah! Well, that's telling me a little more, now isn't it?" Davaryna says. "Please, don't let me stop you."

"Okay, fine. I saved her life, and in some way, stopped her from entering the Sea of Souls," Alptraum replies with a shrug. "How any of that happened, I have no idea. So, don't ask."

"Oh no!" Davaryna says, feigning scandal. "Never ever tell a Yodhbarada not to ask! That's a free tip. I'll forgive the breach of protocol."

Alptraum just shakes his head and says, "I mean it. I don't know."

"It'll do, though names and specifics would be lovely. You can't tell a Yodhbarada too much," the priestess says with a giggle. "And to show how much I appreciate that, I'll tell you that Mariamara is very, very close by."

"In this building?" Alptraum inquires.

The Yodhbarada just rolls her eyes upward and gives an impish grin.

"You want more, don't you?" Alptraum asks.

"Don't you know it!" the priestess teases.

"Fine. There was an incident in which I was indirectly responsible for several deaths," Alptraum replies.

"Ooo! Do tell," the priestess says, clapping her hands. "That's bound to be worth some nice juicy tidbits."

"Because I pursued a necromancer, a minion of his killed himself and transformed into some sort of blood beast. That creature killed one farmer that night. Later, he killed many from a village. I pursued and defeated the monster in the end, but their deaths are on my shoulders too. He became that thing because of me," Alptraum says. "Happy?"

"Well, telling me where this happened would be nice," the priestess says, rubbing a finger against her cheek. "Vague generalities only go so far. Tell me that, and I tell you where to find Mariamara … and maybe something else, too. Deal?"

"It happened near Estershire, a town north of Blackshire," Alptraum replies with a shrug.

"Lovely! Ooo! That's in Sylvania, now isn't it?" the Yodhbarada says.

"Yes, in fact. I was abandoned to a tribe of gypsies in Sylvania. That's where I grew up," Alptraum replies.

"Abandoned isn't the word I'd use," Davaryna says. "But no matter. Mariamara is, indeed, in this very complex. Few know she was once a Yodhsunala. She was spared from ritual death by Sunala Herself, it is said, by a miracle, and now she tends Prince Rikat."

"Hah, so you already knew that part," Alptraum replies.

Yodhbarada shrugs. "I already know a great many things. I won't waste my time telling you what Mariamara will surely tell you, if you can prove to her who you really are. But I'll also tell you that if you let slip too loosely that you know about her to the wrong ears, you'll endanger her life. See? Barada can be compassionate when it amuses Her."

"So, am I important to the Yodhsunala?" Alptraum inquires.

"Hmm. Well, I am happy enough to answer one of your questions," Davaryna says. "It can either be that … or you can ask me something else, and maybe I'll answer. Choose wisely!"

Alptraum chuckles, "It's that, is it? Okay, why am I important to the Yodhsunala?"

"Oooo. Now that's the big question. Fortunately, I already know the answer," Davaryna says. "It's because you were born not to a Yodhbarada … but to a Srinala. A miraculous birth. In a sense, you are a son of Sunala. And many a jealous priestess would love to wring the neck of such a son, just to spite Sunala, Death Who Never Dies. Fortunately … I'm not one of them!" She winks and giggles.

"Hah. I can give you some info you might like, then," Alptraum says.

"I'm sure you can," the priestess says, "but … " She glances to the window. "… the guards are about to circle about on their patrol. Time for me to leave! I'll see you again, Alptraum bar Reisender." There's something teasing in the way she pronounces his name. She giggles and leaps up to the window.

"Count on it," Alptraum replies with a smirk. "At least that answers if I had a name: not likely. A Srinala cannot name anyone. If you ever want any information on one of the Yodhsunala, just stop by. I owe one of them for something she tried."