For the rest of the day at Nalalua, Alptraum does his best to enjoy himself, despite the pall hanging over things by the arrival of the far-less-than-friendly "sister," Sutrana. For what it's worth, she does not leave the ship to partake in any of the festivities, so he has an easy time keeping out of her way while he's out on the beach. As a result of the water-burster fight, he ends up thoroughly soaked, though the air is warm and not all that terribly humid, so he's able to dry off soon enough. After night falls, he still manages to resist the temptation to go sneaking off to break taboos by checking out the temple ruin, or to risk Sutrana's ire by spying on her. Once the feasting begins, though, he is largely apart from Autumn-Storm, as Marvo the big muscular golden-furred Gigi pearl-diver dominates her time, treating her like a princess and generally spoiling her – and she quite obviously loves every minute of it.

The party goes on well into the night, as the Gigis seem quite enthusiastic about entertaining their guests, and the guests are certainly enthusiastic about partying. (The children, however, are shooed off relatively early.) At some point, Autumn-Storm seems to have slipped off – and Marvo's conspicuously missing, too. While things don't show any sign of winding down anytime soon, Alptraum nonetheless finds it a good time to take a lazy flight over the island just to see what the place is like at night. (Besides, turning in early just increases the risk of running into Sutrana.)

So, with the cool night breeze whipping through his hair and buoying his wings, Alptraum wings his way over the irregularly shaped landmass, finding that most of the activity is clustered on this small patch of beach, though there are a few solitary campfires dotting other portions of the island. The temple ruin, perhaps not surprisingly, isn't one of those points of light. It appears that no other ships (at least, none he can see) are presently docked at the island – not counting Gigi canoes, of course.

Alptraum, being the curious sort that he is, decides to fly a bit lower and see just who the campfires belong to. And surely flying over the ruins wouldn't be breaking the taboo. It's not like he's landing there. Maybe Autumn-Storm did convince Marvo to take her there at night.

As Alptraum swings low over the ruins, his eyes don't report anything out of the ordinary – at least, no bobbing torch lights to give away some intruders. Then, he sweeps by again, sounding out to try to determine if he can hear what he can't see.

Yes, most certainly, there's not just something down there – there's someone … and more than one, from his guess, though with such a fast pass and so much vegetation, it's hard to tell more than that at this distance.

Alptraum hmms, "Curious." He flies a bit lower, trying to fly just over the tops of the vegetation and tract the movements with his ears. "I don't want to land, but this is interesting," he thinks. "Hopefully, I'll be able to land outside the ruins and not violate the rules of our hosts."

Oh, the snapping of twigs, the crashing of bushes, the startled Creens screaming and flying into the night – One could say that Alptraum could track his quarry with his eyes closed, but that would be redundant at this point. He catches the sounds of Gigi voices – a male crashing into the underbrush this way, a female tripping and splashing into a brook that way, and a third feline shooting off the other way – none of the directions being back toward the party on the shore.

"Is something wrong?" Alptraum cries out. "I heard the noise while I was flying. Do you need help?"

Alptraum can hear a tiny projectile shooting up and toward him, then whizzing past his head … but just as he's tracking the other one, he hears, too late, another one zinging toward him. He feels a sharp pain in his leg … and within a heartbeat, his leg feels numb.

Alptraum shrieks! He starts beating his wings frantically and tries to gain altitude to be out of range should anything else be fired at him.

As his blood pumps faster and he gains altitude, Alptraum can feel the numbness spreading through his leg … upward toward his torso…

No more projectiles fly toward Alptraum, that he can tell, but whatever this is that's got his leg … it's acting fast.

Alptraum beats his wings trying to now get distance from whatever is firing. He now starts to angle himself back down, to gain both speed and should his wings go out … to fall less of a distance.

The Eeee comes down closer to the ground, whipping over the trees, putting considerable distance between himself and his unseen assailants, even as he feels the numbness beginning to creep throughout his body, beyond just his leg. When it feels as if at any moment, he might be too out of control to be able to fly, he puts down in a dark clearing, landing roughly on the ground, with no sensation at all of his legs at all to help him land with the least bit of dignity. The rest of his body, however, is not so numb as to deny him the sensations of pain of smacking into bushes and grass and dirt. From the trees nearby, jungle birds let out shrieks of alarm, though none of them abandon their perches.

The Eeee lies sprawled on the ground, unable to feel his body from the waist down.

Alptraum gasps and fumbles for his injured leg. He feels along it, trying to find whatever shot him and get it out.

Fortunately, his hands do still have feeling to them, and he is able to find a large splinter – no, a dart – that has buried itself into his right thigh. It comes out easily enough, though – of course – he can't feel it.

Alptraum, thankful he cannot feel pain, tries to widen the hole in his trousers and get to the wound. "If I can get it to bleed, maybe I can get enough of the poison out that it won't spread much further," he thinks, trying not to panic.

There isn't any light save for the faint glow of the Procession to go by – definitely not the most ideal of situations – but by the coloration of the wound and the swelling (and the smell of the venom on the dart he pulled out), it has the distinctive appearance of being a toxin made from horrib venom. Horribs are most certainly not indigenous to Sylvania, but nonetheless horrib poison is one of the most common toxins to be used by persons of extremely low repute. It also happens to be – for those with the knowledge – one of the easiest for which to concoct an antidote. (The trouble is to do it while you're partially paralyzed and getting worse by the moment, and lying on your side in the middle of a strange jungle at night, with hostile persons possibly looking for your still-warm body.)

Nonetheless, Alptraum's training in the ways of the wilderness – and Nekara's own crash course in various topics of interest to Ur (such as, for instance, that horribs are indigenous to this region) pays off, as he tends to his wound with what little he has at hand – and, as fate would have it, a veritable herbary garden of berries and roots within crawling distance in the jungle around him.

The paralysis does not spread any further than approximately Alptraum's waist … and he feels a slight tingling from his left foot as if it had been asleep for some time. At least it's not getting any worse … but he's still in a bit of a pinch here.

Alptraum looks around from his position. "If I can heave myself up a tree, and that's a big if, I can tie myself to the trunk with my sash. At least I won't fall and can probably sleep off the poison. Better than laying here, waiting to be found," he thinks.

Alptraum picks up the sounds of footsteps approaching his position. Heavy footsteps – at least two men with a lot of muscle. Alptraum doesn't stand much chance of putting up a fight.

There's a tree nearby for heaving up on … but staying here long enough to sleep off the poison seems a bit iffy now.

"It figures," Alptraum things ruefully. Instead, he tries to drag himself quietly away from the sound of footprints, angling off a bit so he's not just going in front of them.

As he tries to drag himself away, he nonetheless doesn't get away fast enough, as two large feline humanoids press through the undergrowth and into view. They are golden-furred Gigis, yes, except that they inexplicably have black spots all over them, and are dressed in dark garb rather than the colorful apparel favored by the fun-loving surfing cats. Behind them comes a feline woman, similarly golden-furred, similarly spotted, wearing an elaborate headdress and jewelry into which bones figure prominently. She mrowls some sort of command or challenge in a language Alptraum cannot understand.

One of the men moves forward, wielding a cudgel made from the bone of some very large beast.

Alptraum forces himself upright, refusing to be laying totally helpless on the ground. "I don't understand you," he says. "Look, I'm no threat. I'm not out here to harm anyone." He holds up his hands, palms up, to show he isn't armed.

The female hisses something to the male with the cudgel, and steps forward. Alptraum can see the glint of Procession-light off of her sharp fangs, and in her dark eyes. "Don't you know that to visit the temple of Amena at night is taboo? But no matter. Amena will be pleased." And then, she hisses to the male again, and he lurches forward, swinging the cudgel. Alptraum feels a sharp pain … and then all goes black.