After his narrow escape from the blood-monster (formerly known as Kurt or "that nasty red-haired thug with the scar on his face"), Alptraum returned to the town of Estershire to find out that, indeed, with the exception of Hans the herder, they had escaped destruction. The blood-monster broke away many of the cross-boards on the bridge in its frenzied attempt to pursue Alptraum, and when it later returned, it lacked the agility to make its way across the hole – or perhaps the nerve, given its demonstrated vulnerability to water.

Sheriff Luftstein managed to wing his way back to town, though minus his crossbow, which he had lost in the woods. When Alptraum returned, looking for some work to gain a few shekels to help him on his way, Sheriff Luftstein enlisted him to assist with nightly patrols until the holiday, deeming him trustworthy on account of his previous performance and his (assumed) association with Sheriff Darken.

Little did he know that Alptraum would take the opportunity – once he was reasonably sure the monster had left – to search the woods. Alptraum managed to calculate a likely area in which the crossbow might have fallen. His calculations proved correct, and he was rewarded with a finely crafted light double-crossbow – a bit small and awkward for hands such as his, since it had been made with a Korv in mind, but nonetheless a far finer weapon than he could afford on his meager wealth. He did not report this back to Sheriff Luftstein.

When Harvest Tide Eve drew close, Alptraum found the locals to be especially generous in the area of food – so much so that he found it in his best interests to bid them all farewell and move on, rather than be subjected to the awkward situation of having to refuse offerings of food while everyone else is feasting. (Autumn-Storm, lacking Alptraum's handicap, was less enthusiastic about moving on, but she hadn't managed to make such a good impression on the townsfolk. Much longer there, and people were bound to pick up that she might have something to do with various "misplaced" morsels and items here and there.)

So it is that Alptraum and Autumn-Storm have pressed onward, Alptraum coming ahead for his efforts with five more shekels for his purse. They have encountered far more road traffic now, with itinerant workers going from field to field to lend their help for fields yet to be harvested, people going to see families for the holidays, and armed troupes of men patrolling the roads to dissuade bandits (or other dangers) from ruining the festive mood. Alptraum has had little trouble finding reports of an old creepy Khatta riding alone on a Drokar, passing by, though it seems that he has gained considerable ground.

Be that as it may, it is very, very cold on Harvest Eve, and Alptraum can't simply fly on ahead in hopes of overtaking the sorcerer, without leaving Autumn-Storm behind. Ruins and abandoned homesteads are not uncommon, and the two travelers managed to find a humble, abandoned cottage in which to make camp for the night. So far, the only thing to disturb Alptraum's sleep was the sounds of some loud cawing and Chronotopian curses, and something banging against the wall, but eventually that halted. It seems that the pirate ghost is so pathetic that he couldn't even manage to materialize inside to cottage to cause trouble. So it is that Alptraum still manages to get some sleep … though his dreams are not entirely peaceful. He briefly glimpses the glories of Paradise once more … but he can almost detect a hint of exasperation as an angelic Eeee wags her finger at him, naughty, naughty, and expels him to somewhere that is supposed to be more appropriate for him:

Alptraum finds himself gliding along effortlessly, such that it seems he need only lazily wave his wings about now and then to propel himself or to hover in place – a symbolic effort to move, not an actual necessity. There is gray above and gray below, and even he himself fails to add any color to this bleak landscape. There are no whispers, no cries, no begging for help, no accusations, no sounds save for the wind in his ears, and the occasional rumble of distant thunder.

Although he travels far in his dream, he finds no sign of the Sea, and at last he wings upwards, toward the heavens, breaking free to find a new domain:

Alptraum finds himself soaring once again above the mountain. He can hear the shrieks of the shades already challenging him, but there seems to be no reason to visit the pyramid just yet; he sees no sign of the girl atop it, or any one else on the mountain for that matter. Although he searches, he finds no one … and before the shades close on him again, he takes flight, toward the mists at the base of the mountain. His surroundings change yet again, and he finds himself in another strange place:

Try as he might, Alptraum cannot enter any of the archways. Through the archway with the statue of the winged ki'rin, there is some bright mountain from which comes occasionally hints of laughter and music. He knows in his heart that this is Paradise, and that his way is prohibited to go there. But not all the archways look all that inviting.

One statue is of a red-furred Eeee, pretty of feature except that her hair is a mad tangle, her clothes are a mismatched collection of fabric and armor, and her eyes are wild and insane. When the wind shifts to bring sounds from her mountain, there are shouts and sounds of combat.

Another statue is of a bandage-wrapped Eeee whose fur is a sickly green. As with all the other Eeee, she is of comely features, but she is both enticing and repulsive at the same time, in some indescribable way (probably only possible in dreams) that makes the stomach lurch. From her mountain come gasping moans.

Another statue is of an Eeee girl, tan-furred, with a mischievous expression on her face, one eye closed in a constant wink, and one finger placed over her mouth as if to hush the viewer. Although the sizes of the statues seem to follow no rhyme or reason, her proportions suggest that she is the youngest. From her mountain come sounds of faintly heard whispers, the words too faint for even Eeee ears to make out.

Another statue, one of the smallest, is of an Eeee of full figure (by Eeee proportions, anyway), almost to the edge of being considered "plump". Her body is covered in arcane-looking sigils and runes of varied colors. From her mountain come strange rumblings and crackles and outright alien noises, all of them suggesting some sort of strange powers at work.

Another statue is of a light-furred, gray-haired Eeee woman, severe in countenance, with her hair pulled back in a tight braid, adorned in chitin and leather armor, bearing a double-bladed axe in one hand, and a strange object in the other, looking somehow like a balance scale that has a dagger's blade instead of a base – and the statue precariously balances this scale in one hand. When the wind shifts to blow from her mountain, there are angry shouts and curses.

And then, there's the archway that is empty. That is the only way that Alptraum can go. And that only leads back to the dark realms of the Sea of Souls, and the mountain temple…

Alptraum looks slowly over each gateway, taking in steady breaths and letting the feeling of sheer oddness of the place in which is stands pass. He runs his claw tips through his white mane of hair and says, "Why do you come to these strange places in your dreams? What are these places? Homes of the Angels that Madame Xanadu told me about? If so, why am I here? I'm just a nobody, right?" His voice sounds more convincing than the Eeee really feels, for as he says that, he reaches up and clutches the pendant through his shirt. Maybe I should get rid of this, he thinks. It's brought me nothing but misery so far. But, that thought is short lived. Instead, he walks toward the only way that remains open to him, the gate of what he presumes is the underworld, his mind concentrating back upon the Sea of Souls. "Might as well see if I can do some good while I'm here," he murmurs.

The path soon gives way, as the mists close around him, and the silty ground crumbles away, until he is floating again in the stormy skies over the barren sea. But now … he hears a rumble in the distance. It seems to come from all directions at once.

The Eeee glides lazily upon his ebon wings. His ears pivot about, listening as is silvery eyes take in the terrain that now surrounds him.

A tidal wave of souls comes from the north … the east … the south … the west. The whole ocean of souls seems to be closing in at once, coming from all directions, bodies tumbling and falling as each wave crashes over the barren terrain, filling every crevasse and chasm. And then … the "water" closes in at last, sealing out all view of the ground below. The Sea of Souls has returned, and Alptraum hovers above it.

Alptraum starts to slowly move over the sea below, his ears listening for the cries he heard last time. Strangely, he feels calm here this time around. This place doesn't seem half-bad after a night of zombie crunching, then a night of running from that blood-terror. After a time, he decides to try something. His eyes close and he thinks of the 'someone' Autumn-Storm lost. He knows he doesn't know the name, but he tries to envision the hand-signs in him mind. Most of him hopes, however, that the person isn't here in the underworld of the restless.

A hand reaches up from the Sea of Souls, out toward Alptraum. It seems dull gray at first, but then it becomes golden, spotted. And Alptraum finds himself reaching for it, without even thinking, certain that this is the one … and then, the hand yanks down on him with surprising violence. Alptraum plunges into the Sea … and his surroundings change abruptly.

It's a store room, in some shop in a place that somehow seems far from Sylvania, though the trappings are not so alien. Alptraum is lying on the floor. His body aches. His body aches in ways he never knew it could ache, and it feels as if his legs have been broken and twisted – and he can't even feel his wings. It's dark in here. His cheeks are wet, and he feels very cold.

A pair of golden eyes glow faintly in the darkness … in what little ambient glow leaks through a colored glass window. A hand, a large, strong hand, presses against Alptraum's cheek, forming signs – and he can understand them with a clarity he couldn't before. "Good girl," the signs tell him. "You're a sweet one."

Alptraum tries to jerk away and sit up. He opens his mouth and tries to tell whomever, or whatever is touching him to get away.

No voice comes out. He can't talk. He just makes a barking noise. He … doesn't quite feel himself.

"I'll be back," the signs form again, so strong against his cheek that he can tell there's going to be a bruise. "Don't go anywhere, love." And then the large muscular cheetah rises and goes to the door. He looks familiar. He looks like … like the cheetah from the Dew Drop Inn … only he seems a bit larger here than he was in the inn.

Alptraum struggles to push himself away from this figure, one hand clutching at his throat in shock. Again, he tries to say something, anything. What's happened to me?? races through his mind. He strains, trying to find and unfold his wings to shield himself.

There are no wings. As Alptraum clutches his throat, he finds that he has soft downy fur there – not his fur. And the shape is all wrong. As he turns about, he sees a reflection of himself in a glass container of herbs – It's distorted, and the light is off … but it's not him. It's a cheetah … girl. It's … Autumn-Storm … perhaps a few years ago … perhaps as many as five or six. Tears are streaming down her reflected face, and once he sees her, it seems that he's watching a reflection that is no longer following his actions. She curls over, clutching a hand to her nape, signing, "He didn't mean to hurt me. He loves me."

Alptraum wrenches free of the Sea once more, his body still aching with remembered pains that don't belong to him. The spotted hand turns gray, and sinks back down again, fading into obscurity.

Alptraum hangs in the air above the Sea, gasping for breath. His eyes remain wide, transfixed upon the Sea below, yet he doesn't focus on it. The dream … no, it had to be a memory, haunting him. He shakes his head slowly, trying to clear the images from his mind and free himself from that horror. "Dinilo," he mutters to himself. "What were you thinking?" He decides to try and search out again. This time for his real parents. No names to go with, nothing. Just that singing voice. He calls up that memory in his mind, just the sound of that song being sung, hoping to find the owner of that voice.

The song makes him feel strangely comforted, strangely calm … and he can hear it, understand it, in its entirety.

It is a prayer, as he heard before, though to his ears, it seems as if it's being sung as a lullaby. Who would sing a child to sleep with such a song? But nonetheless, for a moment the Sea of Souls melts away from him. He feels warm … protected … loved.

The Eeee again hangs in the air, the feeling causing him to smile. After a time, his eyes creep open and he looks out once more.

Alptraum's surroundings have gone from surreal to … whatever's a step below that. He finds himself, fully grown, being cradled in the lap of a giantess, a black-furred Eeee with white tresses of hair spilling down, dressed in robes, with tattered wings behind her back, seated on a throne fashioned out of countless bones, upon a tiered pyramid composed entirely of skulls, in some vast cavern hall lit by flickering will o' wisps and torch lights. She sings to him, and he feels as if he should be at peace … even if the flitting wraiths dancing about the room are a bit unsettling.

Alptraum blinks, and looks up at this strange creature holding him. He reaches out slowly, confused that such an odd situation should make him feel at peace. "Who are you?" he asks the giantess.

"Shhh," she whispers, reaching down to brush back Alptraum's hair gently with one giant hand, then toying with a loose strand with a finger. "It won't be long. You're going to enjoy your new home, I just know it. We're almost there."

"New home? What?" Alptraum asks, trying to shift his position to get a better look at the giantess who holds him.

"Oh now, are you crying again?" comes the giantess's voice. "Are you hungry? Did you make a mess? What is it?"

And the reality of this dream seems to be fading away quickly…

Alptraum reaches out to the strange creature. Is this my mother? Where are we? What are we? He blinks. Could this be Sunala? Impossible.

As he does so, she leans down, and he feels her cheek. It feels moist, as if she's been crying. And then …

"Will you stop that?" Alptraum can see Autumn-Storm's hands sign, once she recovers from the shock of having her face touched, and recoils from the bat. "I've a mind not to wake you any more!"

He's back in the ruined cabin again, the one they found to shelter the night. By the light through the cracks in the walls and the slats of the shutters, the birds making a fuss outside, morning has come.

"Nnnngh," the Eeee mutters, sitting up and looking at Autumn-Storm. "Sorry," he signs back slowly. "Bad dreams again. Dreamt I was being held. I think by my mother. There were other parts, but I don't think you would want to hear them." He looks toward here, silver eyes seeking out her cheeks to see if she was the one who was crying.

He can't tell for sure, but the way she turns away and wipes at her cheeks sure seems to suggest the possibility.

"Bad dreams too?" he asks.

Autumn-Storm nods weakly.

"Would you like to talk about it?" Alptraum signs, then says.

Autumn-Storm shakes her head, and starts packing her things into her bag. Alptraum notices that she seems to have a few more articles since they left Estershire.

"If you ever do, I'm here to listen," Alptraum says as he follows suit, gathering up his belonging as well. He can't help but chuckle, realizing the cheetah probably swiped a few things. "You know, I hope they don't notice what you took."

The cheetah shrugs. "Are we going back soon?"

"Not likely. Look, I'm the last one to talk about swiping things, but, we don't need a gang of townsfolk looking for us as well as that crazy Khatta, eh?" Alptraum says. He takes a moment to stretch out, wings expanding outward. After that freaky dream, he just had to make sure he still had them. "I actually dreamt about you last night," he comments. "Well, I dreamt I was you. It was a strange sensation, not having my wings."

Autumn-Storm stands bolt still. "And … what … did … you … dream?" she signs.

The Eeee turns to her and signs back, "You, in pain andhurting on the floor. Like someone had beaten you. Legs were in extreme pain, might have been broken. That cheetah was there, saying he loved me … well, you. But I was seeing it through your eyes. Really strange. Probably just my imagination running wild after all these recent events."

Autumn-Storm doesn't reply. She just buckles up her bag, slings it over her shoulder, adjusts her cloak, peers through a crack in the door … then steps outside.

The Eeee shrugs and slings his bag over his shoulder and heads outside. "Later, I dreamed I was the son of death. It was just a strange night," he says. "I wouldn't think much of it. They're just dreams. They have to be." He then inhales softly, taking in the fresh air.

The air is fresh, crisp, cold. It brings with it a reminder that these mornings are going to get even colder, and even now, Alptraum's wings feel very exposed to the elements. The road is empty, but in the distance up the road, he can see a few puffs of smoke – from a campfire.

The Eeee pulls his wings in close and shivers. Can't fly in this weather, not safely, he thinks. Lose too much heat that way. He cants his ears toward the smoke in the distance, then asks, "You all right, Autumn-Storm?"

Autumn-Storm signs, "Let's travel. I want to move." And putting action to her words, she starts a steady pace down the road.

"Fine," Alptraum says with a sigh. He starts with a quick pace to catch up to the Savanite, then slows down and walks beside her. He walks in silence for a time, then can't help but sign and ask, "Do I bother you? Or am I just creepy?"

Autumn-Storm stops, and looks at Alptraum. "Why you? Why do you always think it's you? Does the whole world revolve around you? Maybe it's me!" she signs, her hands shaking enough that Alptraum can just barely keep up.

"Fine. Maybe it is you. Maybe you're the one causing my nightmares," Alptraum signs back. "If so, then leave me alone." He sighs and shakes his head, then turns and starts walking down the road again.

Autumn-Storm simmers, and resumes walking, too, though she falls behind, and lets Alptraum take the lead.

Ahead, Alptraum can hear a brook nearby, and he can make out a footbridge – not a great span, by any means, but from this distance, it looks as if someone has taken the trouble to maintain it, even with no obvious major settlements nearby.

Alptraum walks along, silver eyes narrow. His ears flick, listening to the surroundings. Why would someone maintain a bridge like that all the way out here?

As Alptraum nears the bridge, he can see that there's a gravel roadway, slightly elevated, cutting off the path to the right, passing through some trees off of the main roadway, with just enough distance between itself and the brook to leave a row of trees between road and water. But he also spies movement – Down to one side of the bridge, there is someone down by the brook – scrubbing clothes, by the sounds of it.

Alptraum holds up his hand to indicate stop. He pauses there, listening to the sounds for a moment. "Hello!" he calls out, "Is anyone there?"

The splashing noises stop. "Oi, misseur! It is but a humble servant, no threat at all! Please pass in good health!"

"Servant?" The Eeee calls back, "Where am I, if I may ask? I'm travelling these roads in search of an old Khatta. You haven't perhaps seen him pass this way have you?"

"An old Khatta? Oh, maybe, sir. I don't look too closely at those that pass by and cause me or my master no trouble," comes the reply back.

"Who is your master?" Alptraum asks.

"Master Pierre DuValle!" the servant barks back. "A fine master he is, yes indeed! Beloved by all the ladies, befriended by every man, and generous to one and all. I couldn't ask for a better master than he!"

"Gallee?" Alptraum asks, "Are these his lands? Is he okay with travelers passing through? I don't want to offendyour master if I can avoid it."

"Oi oi!" the servant barks. "Though he has not a homestead here, the Marquis has granted him this great tract, and all he must do to gain it is to clear it of every monster and demon and bandit infesting the woods. It will be a beautiful place when he is done. I would recommend this as an ideal place to settle as a peasant and work his lands, for, as I said, there is no kinder master!"

"Um, he's not around, by chance, is he?" Alptraum asks. Moments later he signs back to Autumn-Storm, "I think we'd better be leaving here, now."

"He should be returning any moment now, good sir!" the servant barks. "Just out and about, hunting the walking dead, rescuing the maidens, and other such heroic things! It is all rather commonplace to him, really, but he cannot help it. It is in the blood, is it not?"

"Oh, of course, of course," Alptraum replies amiably. He starts walking again and thinks, Time to go, oh yes. Quickly, he glances back toward Autumn-Storm, to make sure she's following.

Autumn-Storm just glares back at Alptraum. She looks a mite bit sour after what transpired earlier.

He signs quickly, "We have to go. Now."

As Alptraum approaches the bridge, though, he can see that the person he's been speaking to is a Gallah – that is, a mutt, with floppy ears, a big brown spot around one eye, a lolling tongue, and a tail that seems to wag incessantly, even as he scrubs linens by the river.

Autumn-Storm throws up her hands in a "fine, whatever" gesture, and falls in behind the bat.

Alptraum almost says something as they past, then stops himself. Better the Gallah not know what he's been talking to. Just keep moving.

The Gallah happily hums to himself, tail wagging, still cleaning away, not looking up. Alptraum and Autumn-Storm make it across the bridge, without any further response from the Gallah, until they're on the other side, at which point he says, "Adieu, good sirs!"

"Have a wonderful day!" Alptraum calls back, wincing and hoping the Gallah didn't get too good a look. Xanadu did warn him about witch hunters and all, and of the Gallee. He continues on, ears once again pivoting and listening for anyone else around.

No one else around. Not just yet. It looks like it's a clear road ahead, even if the weather is a bit nippy. At least the sun is out today. That isn't likely to stay that way all day, given Sylvanian weather, so it's best to enjoy it while it lasts.

The Eeee's attention turns back to the road and he looks for any tracks of animals that may have passed with way recently. Hope we've not lost that Khatta, he thinks.

"That would be too great a change in our luck," Autumn-Storm signs back, still looking sour. As they continue, it looks like the trees are thinning out a little. There are some fields, a few cottages … but though the fields look to be planted up for harvest, some of the cottages look to be in a state of ruin. And then Alptraum sees it: Beside the road, there is a body, a human, shriveled, skin and cloth on bones, lying in the ditch.

Alptraum stops in his tracks. His silver eyes lock on the corpse and heads towards it, concerned. "Wonder what happened to you," he says. He walks slowly toward it, however, looking up now and then to make sure no one else is around.

Aside from Autumn-Storm, there's most definitely nobody else. The body looks as if it had a hole torn through its gut, where the jerkin and flesh have been ripped away, showing a crushed ribcage.

Alptraum kneels down beside the remains, tilting his head. How long have you been here? he wonders. He then waves Autumn-Storm over.

The condition of the body … it's just so hard to tell. The state of decay just doesn't look right to Alptraum. But he can't quite put a finger on it.

Autumn-Storm just stays where she is on the road, not approaching any more closely, instead scanning up and down the road.

The Eeee reaches out and carefully pokes the corpse with a clawtip.

It doesn't move. It feels dry, but doesn't crack at his touch.

Alptraum's gaze moves to the corpse's neck. "This is plain strange," he comments to Autumn-Storm. "It looks like it's been here for awhile, but… I don't think so."

There aren't any amulets of doom there, at least. Autumn-Storm signs, "He's like the others."

Alptraum hmms and stands up. Instinctively, he wipes the claw tip he poked the corpse with on a pants leg. "Must be something that Gallee supposedly killed. Glad we got away from there quickly," he says to Autumn-Storm and walks over to her.

Alptraum's keen ears pick up a snort, and the sounds of hooves on the road, approaching from down the way – down the way that they're presently headed, that is.

"Off the road. Hide!" Alptraum hisses to the Savanite. He quickly heads off the road and looks for a place to hide. Has to be someplace, he thinks, eyes darting around.

Autumn-Storm does a remarkable job of hiding. In fact … he's not even sure where she went!

Just as Alptraum is about to try diving behind a shed, he hears a voice call out, "Hail there! You, suspicious-looking fellow! You are not a bandit, are you, aiming to ambush me? There's no point in it! I see you!"

"No!" Alptraum calls back, "I thought you might be a ghost rider or something. There's that zombie corpse alongside the road. Feared you were another. Nasty things!"

"Ha ha! Silly man!" responds the warrior, as he gallops along, on a pure white Drokar with ringlet barding, and floral patterns and trim. His armor is of a similar style, with a brooch fashioned like a golden rose holding his bright red cape in place about his shoulders. He settles his lance into a harness, and then, as his Drokar trots to a stop, he pulls off his helmet, revealing a poodle head with perfectly formed white curls. "Oi! Nasty things indeed. But a zombie, you say? Surely there are none out and about? Curses, but I thought I had cleared this area of monsters!"

"Looked like one, anyway," Alptraum explains as he makes his way back to the road. "Had a run-in with a house infested with them some time ago. Barely made it out with my life. They looked much like that corpse there. It looks like it's been dead a long time, but I don't think so. Might have been summoned by the necromancer I'm pursuing. The fellow has eluded me since Blackshire!"

"Hmm," the warrior says, as he gallops on up, and then apparently spies the corpse in the ditch. "Oh! That! That's just another victim of whatever foul monster has been preying on the peasants as of late. Found a whole settlement like that last night. Oh, but that is so terrible! Without them all, who will harvest the grain? Say, you and your companion, you are not transitory workers looking for a field to harvest, are you?"

"What sort of monster is it?" Alptraum asks, then shakes his head. "Not at all. I'm on a journey from Blackshire in pursuit of a thief that stole an item from the Duchess Kurai."

"The Duchess Kurai?!" the warrior answers back, sounding offended. "That tramp, with her barbarians and their machines, cutting across the land? You do not mean to say that you pledge fealty to her?"

"Hey! They were kind enough to allow my family to take up residence there. It's the least I could do for her. What about your kind, hmm? Running across the land and killing and harassing innocents!" Alptraum retorts.

"Killing and harassing innocents?" the poodle cries out, as if to verify what his ears are telling him. "Hold still your tongue, peasant, or I will have to cut it out for you! You are on Gallisian land, and you will respect your superiors!"

"You heard me right," The Eeee replies, wings tensing. "I've had friends whom have been persecuted by your kind, I'll have you know. Simple travelers, nonetheless. And as for your land, I'll be off it soon enough."

"That is quite enough!" the poodle barks. "You'll be spending the night in stocks!" And with that, he goads his mount, charging forward.

Alptraum's wings spread wide and he attempts to launch and escape the charging Gallee.

Perhaps not surprisingly, he is airborne long before the Gallee reaches his position. However, it's not a sword that the Gallee is going for – but rather a crossbow. He brings the Drokar to a stop, and raises the crossbow as he tracks the rising Eeee.

Alptraum bucks and weaves through the air, not being so polite as to conveniently fly in a straight line for the Gallee. Nonetheless, he can hear the first bolt whistle by when it's fired. This fellow is proficient with the crossbow, that much is for sure!

Alptraum's eyes narrow and he certainly doesn't try to fly gracefully or in any sort of straight line. He zigzags back and forth, choosing a random point in time to dart sideways. Occasionally, he collapses his wings in some, dipping down, only to recover moments later and climb again. The Eeee tries to make distance between himself and the road, flying away from it as he dodges.

Although he doesn't seem to have quite the same inspiration he did a moment ago, Alptraum nonetheless manages to keep himself safe … but then, there's a pause before the next bolt comes … as the Gallee carefully lines up his shot, observing Alptraum, perhaps calculating some obscure pattern to his movements…

But then, a flash of gold shoots across the road. "Sacre bl – " cries out the poodle, as the crossbow bolt flies wide. Meanwhile, Alptraum has made it to a grove of trees – as good a cover as he can hope for.

Alptraum immediately dives into the trees, trying to take cover. What's that crazy Savanite doing?! She'll get herself killed! he thinks.

The sound of hoofbeats can be heard, departing at a rapid pace.

Alptraum peers out of the trees, hears canting and listening.

The hoofbeats grow more distant. Yes, the Gallee and his mount are gone.

The Eeee walks out of the woods and slowly back toward the road. "Autumn?" he calls out.

He hears nothing in response. Not surprising that, but he doesn't see anything by way of response, either. No sign of the cheetah.

Alptraum just shakes his head. She probably got him to follow her. Crazy. Once he reaches the road, he looks around one last time, trying to listen just in case she's nearby. He then shrugs, and resumes walking.

It's much more pleasant now. Peaceful, even. The birds are singing in the trees, the sun's a little higher in the sky, the breeze isn't quite so chilly … and there is no Gallee trying to throw Alptraum into stocks.

Alptraum continues on for a time, then stops on the road and looks back the way he came. What if she got caught? Maybe even killed? That's your fault, Traum. You can't just leave her behind like that, he thinks quietly. He takes in a deep breath, then screams out, "Autumn-Storm! Where are you!? Please be all right!"

No answer. Alptraum is all alone.

It takes the rest of the morning to try to piece together just what happened, to trace the tracks, find out which way Autumn-Storm ran … because, as he finally determines … she didn't run away. Rather, it looks like, on his final analysis, that Autumn-Storm burst from hiding, not really all that far from where Alptraum was trying to hide, and ran toward the Drokar. There are signs of a struggle … and then of the Drokar riding off – presumably with two passengers instead of one – back toward the bridge where they met the Gallah servant.

Now, it's noon day, about as warm (or not quite as cold) as the day is going to get, and Alptraum is alone amongst a bunch of deserted cottages, and fields ripe for harvest. In the process of searching around, he also found a few more bodies. Like the other one, they have been reduced to bone and skin and cloth, devoid of any other flesh … and based on his examination of the conditions, he gets a fair indication that they cannot have been out in the weather long … certainly not as long as it would take to decay like this.

Once a certain thought enters his mind … that he might have seen this sort of damage before … he finds that some of the other signs he sees make more sense. Some of the scuffs in the dirt here don't seem like any sort of tracks of any normal beast … but given the shifting form of a monster he recently encountered … it could have been here.

Alptraum kneels down and growls. "That creature … Kurt. It did this. This is my fault," the Eeee hisses softly. "I've got to end this. Perhaps that Gallee would let Autumn-Storm go if I go and tell him what I know of this creature, and volunteer to help him hunt it down."

He hears a distant caw … but it's not a Korv. It's only an ordinary, mindless raven, sitting on one of the barren branches of a nearby tree. It is surely oblivious to the danger that has passed through here: the creature even sapped the lives of several domestic animals and wild birds.

Alptraum digs the crossbow up from his side and sighs. "No bolts," he mutters, "Not much use. I'm going to need the Gallee's help. Perhaps there's a pond or river nearby we could use as a trap. Water did seem to hurt it." He looks into the distance, back toward where he saw the Gallah. "Or, you might end up jailed. You're crazy, Traum. Crazy. But, I can't leave her."

So, Alptraum goes hunting … crossbow bolts. After all, there are two bolts recently left here by that Gallee so thoughtlessly. It seems at first as if the task might be impossible … but, much to Alptraum's surprise, he is able to find them, largely because these are not ordinary wooden or chitin crossbow bolts – These things are tipped in silver. Only a Gallee witch hunter, surely, could afford something so extravagant.

Further, he finds that the same brook that he encountered earlier is apparently a tributary to a small river that runs by not far from here; it looks as if the river's banks may have shifted now and then, as there is a highly eroded bluff jutting out over the river at one point, and the trees are very close to the water – to the point of exposing roots – at others.

The Eeee whistles as he takes a moment to examine the bolts. Carefully, he loads the Korv designed crossbow with then and grins. "And if it comes to it, I can bargain with force. Or at least prevent getting captured immediately," he says, silver eyes narrowing. He then returns his attention to the bluff and hmms, "Now, if we could lure it up here, then over and after me… Splat. Of course, I could hopefully go airborne in time… Risky, but."

The double-crossbow holds the bolts nicely … but it's something to be careful with. While the crossbow stays cocked easily enough once cranked (and there's a handy little handle at the front which is meant to be grabbed with one's talons for a good tug), keeping the bolts from simply popping out of the groove while flying roughly is something of a risk. Certainly, this isn't something one slings at one's belt and keeps loaded, in any case. Still, it's a fair sight better than trying to use a longbow while flying…

"Time to find that Gallee," he then mutters.

When Alptraum returns this way, he does not find the servant, but it does not take him long to determine in which way the Gallee went – down this side road just off of the bridge, leading into this estate, blocked off from the road by the woodlands surrounding it.

It is the early afternoon now. Although it is not comfortable to fly, to a certain point it's preferable than walking all the way, and Alptraum at this point has little worries of leaving Autumn-Storm behind…

Alptraum walks along the road, toward the estate. The Eeee keeps the crossbow hidden beneath the folds of his travel cloak, eyes narrow and ears straining to listen for any movement, any breathing. His mane of white hair is nowwindblown and wild, as he's not taken the time to claw-comb it back into place after flying.

As Alptraum walks along the road, he spies something that suggests that maybe walking was a good idea. Barely perceptible … but there's a wire stretching between two trees, a goodly distance above his head, but just high enough to possibly catch a flier trying to use the trees to cover his approach. That would hurt.

"Someone expecting me, it seems," the Eeee mutters. He pauses there and drops down, spying along the ground for any low trip wires as well.

No trip wires – none that he can find, at least.

Alptraum continues on, slowly and carefully. His ears remain alert, listening for anything moving or breathing. His eyes keep a look out for more things like that wire, or odd patterns in the part that might indicate a pit. The crossbow remains safely tucked away, out of sight.

"Raw-awk! Raw-awk! Raw-awk!" comes the call of another raven. There is rustling now and then in the underbrush, prompting Alptraum to be still once more, to find out what it might be from … but then he sees a flash of white bounding away … a mundane stag, and that is all.

No pits, no trip-wires … though a few more aerials.

The Eeee drops low, lips pulling back in a snarl. That's the last thing I need, someone alerting them to my presence, he thinks grimly. He holds his position for a bit, motionless and listening.

All is quiet, relatively speaking. If there's anyone sneaking up on Alptraum … it's someone stealthy enough that his ears can't pick it up. (That doesn't make it impossible, of course… )

Alptraum stays lower this time and proceeds slowly onward toward the estate. His muscles tense, nervous. The thought that this is crazy does indeed go through his mind several times along the way. However, he never slows down or tries to leave.

At last, he makes it toward the last open area before the manor. There's an uncomfortably open stretch of lawn between the last set of hedges, and the walls of the manor. He doesn't see anyone watching right now…

Alptraum curses softly and enough that it might make any gypsy blush. But, he sees little choice. Running would be the least obvious, as taking off tends to make any Eeee look much larger. So, he pulls his wings in tight, drops down low and makes a run for it.

No pits, no tripwires, no barking guard groks. Alptraum makes it up to the wall of the manor, flattening himself against it, as he trains his ears for hints that he might have been discovered … and he catches some sounds coming through a large paneled bay window – the clink of glass or crystal, he's not sure which, and a chattering voice.

Alptraum eases himself along the wall, trying to get close enough to the window so he can make out what they're saying.

"… so, I paid a visit to my cousin – third, fourth, I don't recall how many removed – Tibalt haut Lisle, up on the Island. And, I said to him, 'How do you do it?' 'Well,' said he, 'you simply can't find out until you try.' And so, I reasoned, anything must be possible if you give it only a try… " And so on it goes. It's Pierre, no doubt, and by the sounds, he's at a dinner table, only occasionally pausing to take a tuck of whatever he's having for a late lunch or a very early supper.

The Eeee tries to hear if he's talking to anyone. There surely has to be someone in the room, perhaps having dinner with him.

He can hear other sounds of clinking … but he can't make out any other voices. It could be that Pierre is such a blowhard that he's the only one loud enough to be heard outside. Or maybe he's talking to himself. Or perhaps whomever he's with is focusing more on eating.

Heh, perhaps it's Autumn-Storm, being his guest. Maybe she sold me out as a vampire to save her own neck, Alptraum thinks grimly. Why am I doing this? Even though negative thoughts try to tear at him, he eases away from the window slowly and looks for an entrance. A cracked window, or perhaps a side door.

How careless. Even though the downstairs windows and doors are all tightly secured … Alptraum spies an upstairs window in one of the gables, with a hanging latch. That just might be his way in.

Alptraum, not wanting to risk the sound of wings, decides to see if he can scale a vine to the window. Carefully, he unloads the crossbow, then slings it over his shoulder. The ebon Eeee takes grip of the thickest vine he can find. Here goes nothing, he thinks, then tries to climb up to the window.

Although these creeping vines do add a nice rustic touch, they also happen to be overly convenient for breaking and entering just like this – and Alptraum needn't even use his wings. He gets up to the top and, sure enough, the window is unlatched. With a blade slipped into a crack in just the right place, he's able to pry one of the window pieces to swing open, and then he can pull the other one open with his hand – They're oiled well enough that they don't squeak. Inside is a bedroom, decorated with something of a feminine touch.

Must be married, perhaps has children, Alptraum thinks, making note of the decor. He pauses to reload the crossbow and ease his cloak back for more freedom of movement. Then, he slips over to the door and presses an ear against it and listens.

No sounds beyond the door. Given the apparent lay of the house, it should adjoin an upper hallway, though he can't easily guess at which way the stairs would be from there.

Alptraum opens the door very slowly, trying to make sure it doesn't creak. Hopefully, they kept the doors oiled well too.

Sure enough, they do. The door slides open making a noise only an Eeee could hear. (Now, just as long as there aren't any other Eeee in the house, he should be fine.) He hears another clink from down below. The room Alptraum is in is off to one side of the hallway – not at the end – and it appears that just to the right should be some stairs leading down to the main floor.

Quickly and quietly, Alptraum slips into the hallway and heads right. He levels the crossbow in front of him as he walks, prepared to fire if need be.

The hallway ends at a set of spiral stairs leading down to a sunlit room. If Alptraum's ears are not betraying him … "… oh, and I highly recommend that the croissants should be tried with the clover honey … " … the stairs go right down into the open area that the dining hall is part of. It seems that the downstairs portion is open and airy, without doors actually separating each of the areas.

Alptraum starts to ease his way down the stairs, taking one step, then pausing and listening. He keeps crouched low, so the moment he can see that … Gallee, he can take aim from a fairly secure place.

No steps creak, nothing to betray him as he makes his way down. As he manages to work his way around, he can see the guest – It's Autumn-Storm, only she's wearing a dress that would seem appropriate for a noble's daughter rather than a petty thief – It's ivory, with an overlay of lace in sections on the bodice and lower sleeves, with puffed shoulders, and an open back that shows off the spotted pattern running down her spine. Her hair has been tied back, tied at the bottom with a gold ribbon, with just a couple of artfully placed stray hairs curling down on each side of her forehead. She sits at the table, holding a crystal goblet in one hand, taking a sip from it, nodding on occasion at the poodle's jabbering monologue.

Alptraum lets out a quiet breath and sits there, just watching. So, she did join him or something along those lines. Maybe she told him he was some sort of monster hunting her. Who knows. He risked his life for this? He shrugs. At least perhaps he can help the poodle kill the creature rampaging the countryside. If he'll listen, that is. The Eeee continues to creep downward, slow and eyes scanning to catch a glimpse of the Gallee.

As Alptraum creeps down the stairs, still more silent than a whisper, he makes it down around the bend to a point where he can see the poodle, framed by the bay window, sloshing drink around his glass but hardly touching it, seeing as he is so engrossed in telling his guest about anything and everything. There are only two chairs at the table, one at each end, though the table is large enough to easily seat a modestly sized family and guests.

This time, he's not decked out in armor, but much more comfortable-looking attire. Well, that is, if one doesn't mind wearing quite so much lace.

Alptraum raises the crossbow and takes aim at the poodle's head. Again, the thought comes back, Why, why are you doing this? Just go back and out. No one will ever know you came here. And again, he ignores it, realizing he could never face himself again should he not do something. "Pierre, I suggest staying real still, unless you want a new hole in that head of yours," Alptraum says, voice firm and tone low. "I had come to save my friend, but it appears she's done fine. So, now I'm here to tell you I can help you stop the monster that destroyed that village. Are you willing to listen?"

The poodle stops in mid-sentence, and slowly turns to look toward Alptraum. "A desperate man you must be, misseur, to break into my home like this, and point a crossbow at my head to speak your mind. But it is evident you have me at a disadvantage. Oi, I will listen." He takes the last sip from his goblet, then slowly, carefully sets it down, and raises both hands, holding them open, palms out toward Alptraum.

Autumn-Storm, meanwhile, turns to look at Alptraum, eyes following the crossbow back to the Gallee.

"And it takes a desperate one to try and shoot an Eeee in the back, Pierre. We're even," Alptraum replies. "I know what is killing the people. It hit me after seeing the village. It's a monster, a servant of the one I'm tracking. Autumn-Storm and I barely escaped from it a few days ago alive. It's extremely dangerous, and extremely powerful. But, I noticed it had a weakness, and your lands do happen to have a way we can exploit it. I had come to offer my help in exchange for the freedom of my friend. But, looks like that isn't needed. So, I'll help to be rid of it. It wants me, after all. I'm the one who threatened Kurt and his master. Kurt is that creature, after he slit his own throat outside the town of Estershire."

"Hmm. Let us argue who owes whom at some later time, oi? I am thinking you have a very peculiar view of things – not that I am fond of arguing with a man who points a crossbow at my head," Pierre says, raising his hands a little more for emphasis. "But this 'Kurt' … this sounds like some vampire or ghost, no? To have cut his throat and then to do all this."

Alptraum lowers the crossbow slightly. "May I come down and speak then? On your word I will not be harmed?" he asks.

"On my word," the poodle says, looking very serious. "If you come down those stairs without a crossbow pointed at my head – or any other part of me – I will pretend you came in the front door as my guest. I would not dishonor my family by mistreating a guest."

Alptraum lowers the crossbow and heads down the stairs. "Accepted," he replies.

The poodle lets out a breath. "Lancelin!" he calls out, clapping his hands. "Bring our guest a chair and make another place setting!"

"At once, my lord," the Gallah barks from the kitchen, and he comes in, bearing a chair, which he places along the side of the table, midway between Autumn-Storm and Pierre.

Alptraum doesn't however, unload the crossbow. He just keeps it lowered. "The chair will be enough," Alptraum replies much more amiably The ebon Eeee makes his way to the table and settles down, setting the crossbow in his lap, bolts pointed at the wall. "Well, I don't want to impose on you, Pierre. A simple glass of water or wine will do fine. I'm not sure my stomach could handle such elegant food after weeks on travel rations, I'm afraid," Alptraum says, hoping to avoid further any incidents. "Now, about Kurt and what happened at Estershire… "