It's cramped here, and very very dark. Some time ago, the thought "It could be worse – there could be vermites" was rewarded with (surprise!) vermites crawling around in the gap. Although the Coalition Tower certainly has some of the best pest control around, if it has security breaches big enough for an Eeee to crawl through, then it's got room for vermin, too. Fortunately, none of them bite … yet … but Alptraum has put his hand on something that crunched or went squish far more times than he would care to count.

And here he is. If he recalls the layout correctly, there should be a grate here that goes into a vertical shaft – a trash chute. The vermites especially love this area, it would seem, perhaps because a lot of the trash is organic, and not all of it slides right on down like it should, given various protrusions along the way. Alptraum finds the chitin grate … and also finds that it has a hole in it with a rough feel around it, as if it has been chewed away at by little vermite teeth.

Alptraum tilts his head slightly and focuses an ear on the hole and listens for sounds. "Let'ssee if anyone is in there. I've gotten this far to grow too careless now," he decides, even with as much as he wants to be out of this disgusting hole.

As Alptraum shifts into position, he almost accidentally knocks into the grate … but catches himself. Just as well, because when he checks, he finds that the grate has been so compromised by the gnawing of vermites (and possibly other vermin) that it's cracked and would probably break very easily. (A grate falling into the trash chute would make noise … not all that unusual for a chute that is, after all, made for dropping trash, but there's no sense in taking any risks.) As Alptraum steadies his breathing and adjusts his ears, he can pick up a voice. "… but we were ready for you, as you see. I must commend you for getting this far, and under other circumstances, I might consider an offer of employment … but, sad to say, present events do not give me the luxury. Your kind has no place in Babel anymore." Thath's voice.

Alptraum tenses up slightly, but remains listening. He has a gut feeling about who this might be, so waits quietly.

Whomever Thath is talking to keeps silent, but that doesn't stop Thath from continuing. "Your murderous, death-obsessed ways have been bleeding Babel dry for years uncountable. You are exactly the sort of monster that the other nations think of when they think of Babel. Babel. Land of the murderous, backstabbing Skreeks-with-wings, they think. A dagger between the ribs for a proper donation to their death-goddess. A little extra to make it painless or painful, as the mood demands. Now, I wonder … were you paid this time … or were you doing this for free?" Silence.

"I thought as much. Sutrana was waiting for someone out there," Alptraum thinks and continues to listen. "Murderous ways? Heh, he's one to talk."

"Well, if you're not going to speak," the voice continues, "then I suppose there's little point in continuing this conversation. You're only wasting my time … and I'm sure I'm only boring you as you eagerly await rejoining your Mistress. Far be it from me to keep you late."

"He's going to let her go? Not likely," Alptraum thinks and continues to listen. He decides there's not much he can do right now for anyone. While it might be heroic to try and leap out, it would also likely mean his death.

"Leave us alone," Thath says, answered by the sounds of several boot steps, and then a sliding door.

Alptraum's eyes narrow and a sudden thought flashes through his mind – Thath is a probably a vampire. That could mean … He reaches out this time and places his hands on the grate and starts to work at the grate as quietly as he can muster.

The grate breaks apart into pieces as Alptraum works with it, but he skillfully manages to grab each fragment and set it aside quietly. In surprisingly short order, he's able to squeeze himself through. There's only a very little ambient light here … coming from a thin line up above, perhaps two meters or so, spelling out a garbage chute hatch. "Who is the predator, and who is the prey now, girl?" Thath says. "I have only one use for you, and I can't think of a more fitting punishment. I know what your 'holy' book claims about those who die by certain means."

Alptraum starts working his way upward. Hopefully, Thath will be facing away from him – and even more hopefully, something will be in range to knock the nasty creature out with.

"Oh … Sunala! No – You … BARDIPHATH!" comes a scream from the room, even as Alptraum scurries up the shaft, nearly having to leap to grab onto the opening provided by the hatch. He catches a very faint hint of smoke, but by and large the shaft is free from any strong smells save that of disinfectant. One might pause to think that this garbage hatch is extraordinarily large for what one might expect for someone's private office and dining area – large enough for a body to go through. It also affords Alptraum a good view of the interior – of the bound Eeee girl in a heavy-set chair, and chalky-white Thath leaning over her, his wings spread, his back to Alptraum.

Alptraum quickly looks for a statue or some other blunt object to clobber Thath with.

Yes, there are a few statues around … but unfortunately, Alptraum can't reach them just yet, as he's still just inside the hatch, and – also unfortunately, it's mostly closed, with a latch on the outside holding it shut. Apparently, it's not designed so that any vermite that cares to can simply pop through and have his free run of Thath's private domain.

Alptraum pulls out his dagger and tries to free up the latch quickly. "Come on, got to get the drop on him!" he thinks.

With an ease that should be attributed to a small miracle more than anything else, Alptraum manages to fumble his dagger in just the right way to poke the latch in just the right place (which wasn't where he intended), and to pop the latch. Unfortunately, the side effect of his fumble is to drop his dagger in the process, and it goes hurtling down the shaft. Any noise he makes is covered by another scream, and several strong curses from the girl in the chair.

Alptraum pulls his wings in tight and opens up the hatch. With narrowed silver eyes he streaks toward Thath, grabbing the closest statue he passes by – unfortunately a rather small one. His lips pull back into a slight snarl as he draws close and rears back, bringing down the statue on Thath, with aim toward the back of the skull to hopefully knock him clean out.

The blow doesn't land quite as perfectly as Thath would like, but there's one thing about Eeee – they go down fairly easily when you get the drop on them. There's a loud crack, and the plaster statue shatters against the back of Thath's raven-black hair. He wrenches away from the throat of the Eeee girl, and falls to the floor, his eyes rolling back into his head, rivulets of blood running down from the edges of his mouth. The girl looks up. "A-Alptraum?!" It's Nekara. Thath crumples to the floor in an awkward heap.

"I said I'd come to your aid, didn't I?" Alptraum says quietly and draws out his second dagger and goes to work on the ropes holding Nekara. As he works, he glances toward the Nekara's neck searching for a wound.

The two wounds is fairly easy to find, even against black fur, thanks to all the blood running from them. In short order, the ropes are free. "Ngh!" Nekara slumps from the chair, falling to her knees, reaching up with one hand to clasp at her neck in an attempt to stop the bleeding.

"Keep firm pressure on the wound," Alptraum says quickly. He looks around for some fabric to use as a makeshift bandage. "Can you tell if he hit a vessel or just dug into the skin?"

"He didn't hit the main," Nekara chokes out, her voice shaking, her eyes blinking with burning tears. As Alptraum finds a tablecloth that might be used for scrap, he notices out of the corner of his eye Nekara picking up a larger statue than the one he had to hand, and advancing purposefully on Thath.

"Leave him. He's more use to us alive. Insurance for getting out and for the fact we shouldn't make any more noise," Alptraum hisses and cuts the tablecloth into strips. "Let'sget that wound bandaged, instead," he adds.

"You misunderstand my priorities, Alptraum," Nekara says. "I never planned on getting out." She raises the statue to strike.

Alptraum drops the strip, rushing over to Nekara.In the nick of time, he interposes himself and grabs Nekara's arm. Against anyone else, she might just deal with the situation by a well-placed dagger, and the flash in her eyes seems to suggest that such a thought (or something worse) might have come to her … but she refrains. "What are you doing? This is Thath. We have him right here, right now. That is worth far more than either of our lives," she hisses.

"You kill him now, you make him a martyr, Nekara," Alptraum says slowly and calmly. "You give all the ammunition his allies need to continue on. I came here to find proof to discredit him – to destroy his power base in this city. He helped the invasion of the Tower of Babel. He arranged the attack here. And even he is responsible for the war with Rephidim that got us in this situation. If that could be proved, his power here would fall. A real chance to improve Babel would finally exist."

"So how do we prove that?" Nekara says, starting to cross her arms, but then remembering a more pressing issue with her neck, and putting her hand back there, and tightly. "I suppose we must dig around, and find his journal, in which he conveniently lays out his master plan for ruining all things Babelite? If he is sly enough to do such things, he will not leave clues lying about to be easily found by anyone who – " She blinks. "How did you get in here?"

"How I got in is my business. I'm far from incompetent," Alptraum replies and looks around the room. "We start by looking for letters or notes to someone called Clenching Fist. By itself it proves nothing, except I know Clenching-Fist arranged part of the attack on the Tower of Babel. Second, was it not a cup of blood that started the war? Your neck is proof of his involvement with that – among other things."

"Wait. You're saying to look for letters from Thath to this 'Clenching-Fist'? Here? Wouldn't they get delivered?" Nekara winces, readjusting her grip on her neck, but she starts to look around nonetheless.

"Depends on if Thath is sending congratulations to him – or money. Or letters from Clenching Fist or perhaps the Children of Bael. Or notes in preparation to send to Rephidim. Correspondence is what I'm looking for. Draft plans for how the new power structure is to be … " Alptraum says then stops. He glances over toward Thath, then walls over to the prone Eeee. He picks up the ropes left from cutting Nekara free and starts tying Thath up with them.

Nekara, meanwhile, rips off some cloth, and makes herself a bandage, finally freeing up both hands – which she cleans off in a washbowl. By the time Alptraum has finished tying up Thath, Nekara is rifling through papers, and carefully opening drawers.

"Careful," Nekara warns, from the desk. "I just barely avoided setting off a trap."

"No surprise there," Alptraum comments, then grabs a bit of cloth and makes a makeshift gag for Thath just in case he wakes up too soon. "I would love to be able to read his mind, to see just what he's up to. Or why he's let me live this long, for that matter," Alptraum adds as an aside.

"Let you live this long?" Nekara echoes, very gingerly setting something to one side. "Why do you think he had reason to kill you? Though, granted, you've definitely proven yourself out to be a threat."

"I may be his greatest secret – or mistake, depending on how you look at it," Alptraum mutters and now starts looking through papers and even books in case anything was stuck inside.

"You're being cryptic, Alptraum. I really don't like that," Nekara sighs.

"ALPTRAUM!" Nekara shouts, as he pulls a book. "Be care – " Just in the nick of time, Alptraum's hand stops. There was a little resistance in this book … a little too much resistance.

"There are few – Bardiphaths in Babel, Nekara. He … he's well. I shudder to even think his blood flows through my veins. That he … " Alptraum says, stopping and lets go of the book gingerly. "Now, why would he have a trapped book?"

"Because he's a very nasty fellow who doesn't like uninvited guests poking around his private quarters?" Nekara offers, as she prods around in a desk. "Hmm. He's got nice handwriting, I have to hand him that … but I'm not finding his secret plans just yet."

Alptraum looks over the book to see if he can find the mechanism to unset the trap. "And please ease on the sarcasm, Nekara. This situation is … hard for me, okay?" Alptraum says.

"I almost had my life bled from me by the Grand Vizier, and then you stopped me from killing him," Nekara says. "I think I am entitled to some hard feelings."

"I'm the son of the Grand Vizier, we're even," Alptraum says, irritated.

click Alptraum manages to disable the book-trap. It looks like he would have gotten some sort of gas shot out at him from a capsule from behind it.

Nekara's jaw drops. "You're… No."

"That was my reaction too," Alptraum says, trying to focus on the book. "His blood flows through my veins. I have to stop and likely kill my own father. I let him win here, I have to leave Babel. I stop him and help restore Babel … I still have to leave Babel. So, I'm sorry if I'm not too sympathetic right now."

"Then you aren't just the child of a Srinala. You're the spawn of … the violation … of a Srinala by … him," Nekara says, in halting words, straightening up.

"Nekara… " Alptraum says tiredly and looks up. "Do I seem so different to you all of a sudden?"

Without even realizing it, Alptraum shifts to one side, narrowly dodging the crowquill-nib pen that imbeds itself in the shelf right where his neck was a moment ago. "Yes," Nekara says. "You do."