The gypsies have left Cataract, and are on the move back towards the central areas of Draco County, where the agriculture and trade centers are clustered. Since there's only the one road for them to have taken, it wasn't hard for Alptraum to track down the wagons. The gypsies have set up a temporary camp next to the nearby river.

Being stealthy and naturally dark helps Alptraum track his quarry: Nyneve Radovah. He followed her to the river and watched her do laundry, but couldn't approach her since half the women in the troupe were also there doing the same, along with a few of the children getting baths. Nyneve's lovely dancing daughters were not among those however – they probably washed in their wagons.

Laundry was hung back at the camp, and Nyneve sat and chatted with some of the other women while smoking a pipe. Finally, as the others returned to their wagons to get some sleep, the Khatta woman left camp to visit the nearby roadhouse.

The Pickle Barrel
Attached to a roadhouse on the Capitol Route in northern Draco County, this watering hole boasts mostly homemade drinks that it serves at the sort of prices travelers can afford (namely, cheaper than what the roadhouse charges). The place is filled with re-purposed barrels – barrels for chairs, table posts, the bar and even the outhouses. The air is smoky from whatever is being burned for cheap snacks, although some of the smoke may have been loitering around for days.

The place is busy, despite the late hour, and there's no way to tell the locals from the travelers. There is a game of Airships going in one corner, a few men playing darts – and a lone gypsy woman sitting at the bar rolling a coin between her fingers as she smiles to the bartender.

Alptraum finds himself having to suppress a cough in the smoky room. He's never been too fond of such, even if he has indulged in some of Mave's stash of herbs. A quick look through the crowd and he thinks he sees the woman he's looking for … so he's making his way towards the lone woman at the bar. For the moment, he tries to stay directly behind her so she can't see him approaching…

"Can't give free samples, ma'am," the bartender – a young human with a mop of unruly brown hair – claims. His voice cracks a bit when he does so. "Sorry 'bout that, but my dad would hide me if I did… "

The woman turns and gives a little pout, showing her profile so Alptraum can tell it's definitely Nyneve. "Ah vell, I shall just have to hope a nice gentleman will treat me," she says with an sigh that is clearly only intended to show off her cleavage.

"Never mind that good sir, get her what she wants. I'll cover the cost," Alptraum offers as he's now standing practically behind the gypsy woman. "I'm saving you, you see," he tells the human, "Lest the 'evil' gypsy curses you and your feet and knees turn purple and hair sprouts from your tongue… " The last bit is followed by a fangy smile as he says to the Khatta, "Hello, Nyneve… "

"My, my, it is de Lord Reisender, come to hobnob wit' the movers an' shakers of de tribe," Nyneve replies with a warm smile and an undignified hug.

"Lord? What is this Lord business? I'm just an ordinary guy!" Alptraum claims as he accepts the brief hug before dropping into a chair next to her. He rests his elbow on the counter-top, then leans his cheek against the back of his gloved right hand. (His left is also currently gloved, of course). "And you're looking lovely as always, by the way," he adds.

"Mmmmm, this light does not do me justice, of course," Nyneve claims. "So what brings you such an… interesting… bar, hmmm?"

"Oh, lured here by the overpowering aura of lady in distress, of course," Alptraum claims. "Or maybe I'm looking for you. It's a bit hard to think in all this smoke. What brings you here?"

"I no tired yet," the Khatta purrs in explanation. The barkeep brings two glasses of yellow liquid, and says, "Here you go, folks. Blue Barrel Ale. It's from the blue barrel. That's the best one."

"What, is the worst in the house from a green barren or something?" Alptraum has to ask as he reaches into his side travel pouch. "So, how much do I owe?"

"Four Shekels," the boy says, with the air of someone relating the cost of a rare bottle of wine.

"Four?! Why, she had better be worth it, right?" Alptraum asks the boy as he dips his head slightly towards Nyneve and then winks. He manages to dig up the four shekels and set them on the bar in front of him, then without missing a beat rolls his fingers and takes up one of the glasses. Instead of drinking it, he holds it up to Nyneve's lips … and can't help but waggle his brow at her.

The dancer twitches her whiskers, but plays along and laps at the ale with her tongue (in as suggestive a manner as possible of course). "Not bad," she judges. "Better than the stuff Gabrielle makes out of a wild yams."

"She still makes that?" Alptraum has to ask, "I remember the batch tha' went bad and the fumes stripped ze paint from the side of a wagon." The glass is set aside soon enough and Alptraum gently uses the scaled underside of a fingertip to trace along Nyneve's lower lip lest a drip dare fall away. "It's good to see you. You haven't changed a bit," the Eeee says, the hints of his old accent slipping in and out of his speech.

"So, you come all this way just to try an' seduce me?" Nyneve asks with a grin. "Wunnering what you couldn't remember from that night, eh?"

"Me? Why, I'm not nearly good enough to seduce you," Alptraum claims as he puts his hand to his chest as if struck. "Though I do wonder what a sly woman such as yourself happened to do with a defenseless, innocent, man."

"Oooo, you neither of those, even drunk," Nyneve notes, leaning back a bit. "Now, what you really want, eh? You not looking for a mistress, I bet."

"Perhaps I want an earring t' mark that night, then?" Alptraum offers next and waggles his decorated ears for emphasis. "But alas, you are correct. I was wanting to ask a favor of you."

"Oh ho, now we getting somewhere," the Khatta says, and takes a swig of ale from the unused glass – leaving Alptraum with the one she lapped from already. "Wha' sort of favor, that you have to come to me an not your family or friends?"

Alptraum doesn't miss a beat, he takes a drink from the lapped glass. He even licks the rim slowly as he eyes the Khatta next to him before he sets it back down. "You are perhaps the only person I know that has no fear of Reapers," the bat states, "There's also this matter than I know so few generally normal people … and yet I find myself in dire need of one."

"Oh… so you t'ink I'm normal then?" Nyneve asks, with a hint of threat. "I'm not exceptional?"

"Hard to say, I was drunk, remember," Alptraum teases and flashes a fangy grin. Before the Khatta actually gets mad, though, he adds, "You appear normal to get people to drop their defenses, which is just as good as someone who really is normal. Actually, it's better. You're in less danger." He holds up his right hand and waggles the mutated fingers at her for emphasis.

The seems to placate the cat for now, as she sips at her beer. "So what this favor that needs someone who can fake being normal, hmm?" she asks.

"I have a Reaper … well sort of a friend I suppose, that wants to spend some time with a normal woman," Alptraum explains rather simply, "As for what all he wants I'm not sure. I think he's mainly just tired of the unusual which tends to follow him. He's a Korv, which makes things difficult. He also tends to have the personality of a mooching kavi, alas." There's a pause, then a huge grin spreads across Alptraum's lips along with the following comment, "I making this sound so appealing, avralie?"

"Bring's back da memories," Nyneve notes, swirling her drink with a finger. "Katka's father was a Reaper. They can be… charming. This Korv, is he clean? Well kept?"

Alptraum studies the contents of his glass for quite a while. "He's not the most clean fellow, no," the bat admits, "And he looks like a well-used duster fleeing from the maid that abused him so. I can try to get him to tidy up, though," he says.

"Yeah, cleaned up a given," Nyneve notes. "Feathers should be soft enough to stuff pillow. Cuz, I may want to do that. Don't know a lot about Korvs," she admits, then sucks the ale from her finger. She then wiggles that finger about, and asks, "Like… what's they got down there? No lips to kiss even. What can they do?"

"Truth be told, I have no idea," Alptraum agrees to Nyneve's analysis, "I'm certain they're no Eeee … but surely they can do something." The Eeee considers something, then asks, "Perhaps it would be better if I asked you what you wanted. I could try to hint to him and direct him along those lines."

"Hmmm, dat tricky," the woman notes. She rubs her thumb and forefinger together, and the coin she was playing with earlier magically reappears between them. "Reapers not known for being wealthy. I'm not a young girl anymore. I want a nice dinner, indoors, with real wine and servers who not doing things in food. I want to wear one of my nice dresses. No picnic in a graveyard, or drunken tumble. Be nice if he can sing or recite poetry too."

Alptraum nods at that. "Well, I can suggest that too him and see if he is agreeable," the Eeee says with a smile. "Of course, this then brings up another question … what will I owe you for this favor?" He pauses there to reach over and tap her nose, while commenting, "And bah, you are not old. You're as pretty as you were twenty years ago and far more wise, I'm sure! I call that quite the combination."

"Hmmm, how high you mingle in the capitol?" the Khatta asks, giving a little purr of appreciation for the compliment.

"Of Draco County?" Alptraum asks, "Reasonably, I suppose. Why do you ask?"

"Katka getting to a good marrying age," Nyneve says of her oldest daughter. "She has eye for townie things. I be inclined to marry her to rich man who can spoil her. But not old. Someone she can fall in love with, ya?"

"Well, I'm far from rich, but I am dashingly handsome!" Alptraum claims and even puffs up his chest a bit. "And also generally unavailable. So, you're asking me to keep an eye out and introduce her to someone who could take care of her? That would break Hexen's heart, you know… "

"Hexen get over it," Nyneve asserts. "He never have a chance anyway. Better he move on," she adds with a grin. "And no need to introduce formally. Katka a good dancer. There are lots of knobby gorgio parties in capitol. Maybe you could arrange entertainment. If she sees one she likes, she can catch him herself."

"Ah! You want me to arrange that you and your daughters entertain in the capital," Alptraum concludes with a grin, "Which ensures a decent flow of shekels if nothing else. And I do have to ask this … but just what have you been hearing about me and the capital, hmm?"

"Hexen start rumor that you a spy for the Countess," Nyneve claims with a grin. "Then claims he one of your special agents."

Alptraum laughs at that! "Me? A spy? That's ridiculous. That implies I see the Countess regularly. I've only met the Countess a few times," the Eeee claims. Of course he's thinking, "Now, Rosalind Draco is another matter!" Another chuckle, then he comments, "So dat's his new pick up line?"

"That and he claim to have chased off a dragon," Nyneve says. "When asked where his sword is, he gives big grin and points to pants."

Alptraum winces. "Ooo, now that's a terrible line. He should claim he's a dragon layer instead. Much more believable than him carryin' a big sword," the bat jokes. "How is everyone else doing? Your daughters well? My parents?"

"Your dad doing better now that we're out of the mountains, I think," Nyneve says, sounding more serious. "There a sacred spring in next big town, Springfield. He's going to visit that, see if it helps his joints."

"I should see iffin … ah, hm. I know a mage who owes me a favor. I should see if she can help him out a bit," Alptraum says, "Will you be coming through the capitol soon?"

"You know us – we move at easy pace," the Khatta points out. "No need to strain the drays. We're not low on supplies, so not in a big hurry."

"Ah, den I guess I'm spared having to inflict all of you on my love for a bit longer, eh?" Alptraum jokes.

"You just worry about her impressing your parents," Nyneve says, and taps Alptraum on the nose with her still slightly wet finger. "Throw something to Hexen to distract him, and he not embarrass you too much."

Alptraum snaps his jaws and takes Nyneve's finger in his mouth, making sure to not actually bite it. He waggles his brow and sucks on her finger for a few seconds. "Oh, I know someone who can distract him," he claims when he lets go. "Distract everyone, really. She's … something when she wants to be seductive."

"Tsk, you haven't been associatin' with wanton women now have you, Alptraum?" Nyneve asks with a wink. "What would your mother think?"

"My tastes run towards older women, it seems," Alptraum quips and grins. "And I'm sure she would disapprove, but then don't all mothers? What would she think if she knew you took advantage of me?"

"I shudder ta think! And I didn't take advantage of you," Nyneve notes. "That you know of."

"So, what did you do with me?" Alptraum asks as he leans in. "Just … how much did you examine me?"

The feline just grins… like a feline. "T'cha, Alptraum, don't you trust me?" she purrs. "Besides, if I offered, you'd follow me back to my wagon or into the woods or on top of this bar, wouldn't you?"

"I trust you to be devious," Alptraum claims right before he licks Nyneve's nose. "And yes, I might follow you. But I know you're not going to just to be contrary. Your daughters are just like you!"

"I train them well," Nyneve boasts. "And we leaving early in the morning, so no time for entertain'n guests in the wagon. Least, not guests who don't want to be found out in the morning."

Alptraum laughs. "I do need to find a place to sleep this evening, though, truth be told," he admits, "Too late to fly back to the capitol now. Maybe I'll impose on family tonight … or Hexen. He mooched enough off me in the past."

"Or maybe one of your daughters," Alptraum adds as an afterthought and wiggles his ears at Nyneve.

"Dere always de roadhouse too," Nyneve notes.

"Yes, but that costs money," Alptraum says.

"Up to you," the Khatta notes. "Your parents be happy to see you, I know. Unless you want someplace to take the bar-bunny, heh?" she says, pointing to the sleepy-looking Lapi doe sitting in a corner wearing the traditional Sylvanian Tavern Wench attire, which every serving girl in the history of waitressing can't wait to get out of, one way or another.

Again Alptraum laughs. "I don't even know her. She hasn't even said anything to us or even looked this way. Why would I want to take her somewhere?" he asks the older woman. The bat's expression gets a bit serious now, though, and he asks, "Is there a reason you don't want me to come to the camp?"

"Ah, no real reason," the woman says, and sips her drink, which nearly empty now. "It be some excitement. Jus' that you're here alone this time. So maybe your parents try a little harder to keep you around."

"Well, I have responsibilities now," Alptraum says in a tone that suggests it's a fate worse than death. "So I can't stay no matter how much they might want me to. In truth, your helping me is important because the Reaper has information I need terribly. The fate of a lot may rest on it." The bat chuckles and takes a moment to run his hands through his hair. "And listen to me. I didn't use to worry about the future and things greater than where the camp would get the next meal."

"We had pork chops tonight," Nyneve reports. "Yummy!"

"Need another drink?" Alptraum offers, "I'll walk you home when we're done. It would be nice to see a few familiar faces before I return to the capitol."

"Oh yes, can you get us a bottle to take?" Nyneve asks.

"Of the Blue Barrel?" Alptraum clarifies. He raises his hand and snaps his chitinous fingers loudly to call over the bartender.

"Yes sir?" the young bartender asks as he appears.

"We would like a bottle of your best to go, please," Alptraum tells the bartender. "It's a special occasion."

"Yes sir!" the bartender says, pleased at another sale. "Heather!" he calls to the Lapi. "Fetch a jug of #4 Blue that isn't groaning! And don't drop it this time!" The doe gets up and mutters quietly to herself as she goes to fetch the bottle.

"What's the special occasion?" Nyneve has to ask.

"Poor girl," Alptraum has to admit as he watches the doe go, "Maybe we should buy her too… " The question, though, elicits a small shrug from Alptraum, "Good friends, good company, and homecoming. Nothing more special than those. And oh yes, you presenting me with an earring." The bat winks.