Midsummer's, 6105 RTR (20 Feb 2002) Alptraum spends Midsummer's Day at Little Rephidim West.
(Alptraum) (Ocean) (Spheres of Magic)
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Midsummer's Eve so far has passed without any further disturbances, now that Klaus Schmidt has been dealt with for another holiday. Although in many places Midsummer's Day is a holiday to be observed as a somber time of reflection, the Princess of Stygia is most certainly following the lead of cultures that see it as a time for merriment, albeit with a macabre touch. Children run around with little "bone" rattles and skull masks, pretending to be ghosts, hopping out and going "Boo!" a lot.

Alptraum, for his part, lives it up, telling spooky Sylvanian tales to the squeals of the kittens and pups, and kicking up his heels enthusiastically – if not proficiently – at the dances.

Around midnight, those who are still up (and haven't consumed too many spirits) gather on the deck. In memory of departed loved ones and friends, candles are lit and put inside paper "lanterns", and placed upon little bowl-like floats, which are lowered down to the water and allowed to trail behind the ship.

Although Nekara has shunned the evening's festivities, she nonetheless is present for this one. The ship provides one lantern for free for each passenger, but Nekara evidently has seen fit to invest in several more, lowering four or five at a time on a platform via one of the rope-pulley arrangements rigged up along the railing.

Autumn-Storm has only her one, patiently waiting her turn at the platform, rather than milling about and trying to find another that's free. Ariel Azale, the Spirit mage, has already set hers upon the waters, and watches the points of bobbing light trailing behind the ship, near several kittens that stick their heads through the railing for a better vantage – all of them bundled against the cold night air.

Alptraum places his single lantern on the platform to lower it to the water below. The lantern is then lowered slowly to the water below, careful to not jostle it too much in order to keep the candle lit. During its slow descent, Alptraum speaks very quietly, not wanting others to hear what he has to say. "I know we've never met, mother, and I find it – hard to grieve for you. But, I do grieve for the fact we will never meet. I will never know if you would have been proud of me – or what you thought of me when I was born – or the day I had to leave. I will never get a chance to know you, and you to know me," he says softly, pausing to swallow as the boat finally hits the water. "So, I light this candle for you; to let you know that even though I never knew you I have often thought of you. Goodbye, I hope you have found peace."

The Eeee then steps away from the platform, quiet and head lowered.

Alptraum places his single lantern on the platform to lower it to the water below. The lantern is then lowered slowly; he is careful to not jostle it too much in order to keep the candle lit. During its slow descent, Alptraum speaks very quietly, not wanting others to hear what he has to say. "I know we've never met, Mother, and I find it – hard to grieve for you. But, I do grieve for the fact we will never meet. I will never know if you would have been proud of me – or what you thought of me when I was born – or the day I had to leave. I will never get a chance to know you, and you to know me," he says softly, pausing to swallow as the boat finally hits the water. "So, I light this candle for you, to let you know that even though I never knew you I have often thought of you. Goodbye; I hope you have found peace."

*** Note to GW: Tidy this up…

The little floating lantern bobs in the wake of the passing ship, joining the procession of lights that drift away into the night. There are no songs sung, there is no loud chatter – For once, quiet reigns, and as the lights drift away and the night chill insistently makes itself more known, one by one, those gathered slip away.


Midsummer's Eve passes quietly and solemnly, without any supernatural oddities, despite how much Alptraum's holidays of late have been plagued by such weirdness. Most of the passengers are still sleeping off the partying of the previous night when the Princess of Stygia comes to dock at Little Rephidim West – the paquebot that marks the point at which this vessel has roughly covered two-thirds of its journey across the Stygian Sea. Bobbing lanterns litter the water, radiating outward from the paquebot, and some are inevitably bumped aside when the vessel passes through their midst. The faint strains of music from partying still going on into the morning are picked up by Alptraum's sensitive Eeee ears, and at least for the moment he is awakened by the arrival of the ship at its next stop – though there is no broadcast announcement to the passengers out of respect for letting them sleep a little while longer.

Alptraum groans softly, not normally being a morning bat, but gets up nevertheless. He blinks a few times as his mind clears from sleeping, then gets dressed. A few minutes later, he peeks out his door, then sneaks down the hallway and heads to the ships hold and its yiffle cargo. He elects a sleeping yiffle and clamps his hand over its mouth and brings his jaws in close. … A few minutes later, he's sneaking back out of the hold after concealing the end-results of his breakfast has he has done for most of the trip. Now wide awake, Alptraum decides to head on up to the library, just to see who might be using it at this time of the morning. "If its empty, I'll just trot down to the deck," he thinks as he walks.

It's still pitch black outside, and though it was a relatively clear and starry night for Midsummer's Eve, clouds now block out most of the glow of the Procession. As Alptraum approaches the library, his ears pick up the sound of someone inside – someone chanting. The voice sounds female and feline. Most certainly, someone else is up early.

The near door to the library is closed, though there are also two other doors that open out to the deck, and windows (though not on this side).

Alptraum hmms, then eases up close to the door and presses one ear against it. "I wonder if the mage is up and about this early," he thinks.

The Eeee can hear the noise of a small wooden box being snapped shut and a latch closed, and more of the same strange chanting in some language that Alptraum can make no sense of. Yes, now that he's had a chance to listen, it sounds like the voice of Ariel – If she had been speaking normally, he could have picked it up right away, but hearing her speak in this strange tongue is unfamiliar to him.

Alptraum tries to ease the door open and peak in without being noticed.

The doors on this ship are, for the most part, very well maintained, and the door to the library is no exception – oiled so that it hardly makes the noise of even a whisper as Alptraum slides it open. Inside, sure enough, the blue-grey Khatta is seated in an open section of the floor, surrounded by a ring of candles and an arrangement of abstract figurines of various colors of stone. She is facing toward the windows – away from him – and shows no sign of noticing him, though for a moment he is given reason to fear that he may have been discovered – for she finishes her chanting, tucks a small rune-scribed wooden box within her robes, and leans over to start blowing out the candles and pick up the figurines.

Still, Alptraum has succeeded at being a very sneaky bat indeed. Autumn-Storm would be proud.

"I thought I recognized your voice out in the hallway," Alptraum says, then opens the door fully and steps in. "I'm surprised anyone would be in here at this hour. Something the matter? Looks like you were doing some sort of ritual," he then adds in a friendly tone.

The Khatta seems nonchalant as she says, "Good morning, Alptraum," though her commendable maintenance of composure is compromised by the sudden bottlebrushing of her tail. "I hope I did not wake you?"

Alptraum's eyebrow quirks slightly. "Oh, not at all. I've been up for a bit. You all right?" he asks.

"Oh, I am quite fine, Alptraum, and thank you for asking," Ariel says, tucking away the last of the little feline figurines and candles. "But we are at Little Rephidim West, and … ah, perhaps you do not know of the stories. A terrible massacre happened here some years ago. You would not be able to tell by looking, for they have returned to – how is it the Rephidimites say? – 'business as usual', but there are still echoes of the tragedy. I am preparing myself, in case any of those echoes should be loud enough to pose a problem. I have heard enough to suspect that the tales of haunting are not mere 'ghost stories' here."

Alptraum hmms, then says, "Then perhaps I should stay onboard. I attract unnatural things." He then shrugs and asks, "I hadn't heard that a massacre happened here. Can you tell me what exactly happened?"

"Hmm. Perhaps you should remain here, yes," the feline agrees, nodding as she rises from the spot where she was working her ritual. "The paquebot is not only a place of trade and refueling of ships. It is also a research station, the Rephidim Temple being obsessed with such things. From what I am told – and may Logos forgive me for any lack of accuracy – some years ago the Technopriests stationed here discovered evidence of intelligent marine life, a race of squid-like beings they dubbed the Cephieds, just shy of true sapience, but possessing a sort of 'hive' intelligence in large numbers."

Alptraum nods, listening.

"They conducted studies in secret of the Cephieds, and it is said that they even obtained some for dissection and examination," Ariel continues. "Whether or not the Cephieds were sapient, they evidently were not happy with this turn of events. They assaulted the paquebot, and slew everyone – man, woman, child, beast – on board and in any of the naval vessels, and any of the airships that could not escape in time. They did this with a secretion of a poisonous variety of 'ink' – a toxic substance that caused paralysis and – so it is claimed – excruciatingly painful death. So potent was this toxin that merely touching it is fatal, and the cleaning crews who later came to restore the paquebot suffered a high casualty rate even though the Cephieds had long since moved on."

Alptraum's eyes go wide. "That's horrible," he says. "So, ghosts have been spotted here since then? What would you do if you encountered one?"

"There are various ways for dealing with such disturbances," Ariel says. "For the layman, I simply suggest that if you encounter a ghost, do not interact with it. Leave it alone. Go away. The ghost will move on eventually, but if you engage it, you may provoke an unpleasant reaction. Ghosts are inherently unstable – even those that appear benevolent may suddenly turn violent without warning."

"I've encountered, and even touched, a few," Alptraum tells her. "Some a great deal nicer than the Korv."

"Well, I suppose there is no helping it," Ariel says, "if you come from Sylvania. But mark my words – magic is a dangerous thing to deal with, particularly without proper training. Please forgive me if I sound in the least bit like some superior speaking of the 'unwashed masses,' for I do not mean to be haughty, but in my work, I have seen many tragedies… " She turns to look toward the window. "I had best be going before it is daylight. Night time is the best time to find instances of paranormal activity, as any ghost story is sure to teach you."

"I gathered that much from meeting Nachtbrise on Reckoning Eve," Alptraum says. "I've always encountered spirits in the evening," Alptraum says. "I feel for her, as I experienced her last moments of life after I touched her. She died alone." He then shakes his head and says, "Well, I could go along with you. If there are ghosts at work, I'd probably attract them. Then you could deal with them how you wish."

Ariel smiles faintly. "If that is what you wish – but I must warn you, I am not doing this for pay, and I haven't the budget to pay you for your time. It is written in the Guild rules that an exorcist is to be paid for her work … but it is expected of us by the College that we should be ready to deal with rogue spirits wherever we find them, whether there is anyone to pay for our services or not." She walks over to the starboard door leading out to the deck. "Oh, if it would be pleasing to you, I humbly submit that I might be able to deal with the curse that has been visited upon you, by having that Korv plague you every holiday."

Alptraum waves a hand. "I don't need pay for helping. I don't mind assisting when I can," he replies. "As for the Korv, that's my problem. I promised him I would find the one who betrayed him. There are odd times in which I can understand any language, strange but true. I made the promise, I'll keep it."

"In fact, helping you may answer questions about why they are attracted to me," Alptraum then adds.

Ariel says, "Ah, but what you say is not so unusual. It is a sign that you are more attuned to the realm of Ariel." She steps through the door, then blinks and quickly adds, "That is, Ariel, the Messenger of the Gods, not Ariel, your humble Spirit mage. I was named after Her. Sihr Ariel bint Azale – that is, Ariel of the line of Sihr, daughter of Azale. Ariel's realm is that of the spirit world, and there are those that have been touched by Her – though in less religious terms, one would say that you are merely a 'paranormal attractant'. It is often a sign of some aptitude in the arcane arts, and most any Spirit mage was already close to the spirit world before pursuing this Sphere." Now on the deck, she leads the way to the gangplank. Although it is dark out, there are many lights, and here and there are signs that the paquebot is still alive with partying – though the trash strewn about and darkened areas that the partying has died down considerably in the wee hours

Alptraum follows along, listening to the explanation of the name. "Well, I suppose being the son of a Yodhsunala probably qualifies to being close to the spirit realm," Alptraum comments. "Though, whatever ability I had seems to have gone inactive lately. Odd, really. I wish I knew what it was. I was attacked in Safar by a cult who wanted the 'great power' within me. That was … scary."

"Ah," Ariel says, nodding. "Sometimes, it is a hereditary thing. For instance, there are legends among my people of family lines that run strong with peculiar luck. It may skip a few generations, but then there is one poor fellow born with extraordinarily terrible luck, it seems, or some blessed child for whom nothing can go wrong. Such a thing can swing both ways, as blessing or curse – especially to families with traditions of magery. A family may produce a long line of competent mages, but some child may lack the aptitude – or may express his touch with magic by being a null – so totally resistant to magic that not only could he never cast a cantrip, but might be nearly immune to any magic at all, for good or ill."

For now, the two walk along a quiet dock, skirting past the oases of light and sound that mark the places where rowdy sailors and airshipmen are up into the morning, strongly reluctant to end their party even though surely they will pay for it when their captains wish to shove off in the morning and find their crew to be groggy and suffering from hangovers.

"The Kurai family?" Alptraum inquires with a grin.

Ariel snaps her fingers. "Ah yes! That is one family I was thinking of! Of course, they are from Sylvania, are they not? I should not be surprised then that you would hear of them. Many a Chaos mage would love to have a chance to study them, no doubt." As they continue along in the darkness, it occurs to Alptraum that though the area around Ariel shows hints of a Procession's glow – there is hardly any Procession visible in the sky to account for such an effect. Instead, it seems that there is a slight aura about her that faintly illuminates her surroundings … and then Alptraum can see that she is holding one hand closed, and that there is a faint foxfire light escaping between her fingers.

"I was a guest in their town some time ago. My adoptive family stayed there over winter when I had to leave," Alptraum explains, then pauses. "What exactly are you doing? What is that light?" he asks.

"Hmm?" Ariel mews, then follows Alptraum's gaze down to her hand. "Oh. It is, quite literally, a held spell." She uncurls her fingers, and within them, a will o' wisp of palest blue ripples, hovering above her palm. "It is the focus of a manifestation of the magical energies of my ritual. If I were to encounter a ghost, it would be folly to think it would wait for an hour or more for me to perform a ritual to combat it – so I cast my spell ahead of time, charging it so that at the appointed time, I can release it as need be. Of course, if I should need some other spell on the fly, I shall not be quite ready for it … but such are the limitations of magic."

Alptraum ahs. "Okay. Well, consider me totally unfamiliar with doing magic," Alptraum says. "I've only encountered it – or maybe used it once without meaning to. I don't know exactly what happened then and thankfully it has not happened again. Maybe it was just those I was around and I was blamed."

Alptraum's ears cant, listening as they walk.

The walk continues on, sometimes in relative quiet, sometimes with more chatter about the spirit realm and other strangeness. The noises of the parties have drifted away for the most part, though Alptraum's keen ears can still get a bearing on the locations of the most festivities, and the central layout of this place makes it hard to get lost. Now, they stand near an old warehouse – or, perhaps, a new warehouse built from old scrap – and Ariel suddenly stops, ears perking. "I sense something," she mews.

Alptraum pauses, panning his ears around some to see if he hears anything. "What do you sense?" he asks.

"Paranormal activity," the Khatta says, slowly scanning the surroundings. "It's not fully manifested – or, at least, I cannot pinpoint it exactly." She turns back to look at Alptraum. "If you could, I think you should stay here a moment. It may be driven off by too many living bodies converging upon it at once. I will call if I need any help."

Alptraum looks at the Khatta a moment, then nods. "I'll wait," he says.

The blue-grey Khatta nods, then goes to the door of the warehouse. She puts her hand to it, and closes her eyes. Alptraum can see that it's cracked open, and certainly not locked. The warehouse doesn't show any signs of use, per se. Apparently satisfied, Ariel then slips in and disappears inside – leaving Alptraum quite alone in the dark, now that her accompanying "held spell" glow has gone inside with her.

Now in the dark, Alptraum goes totally by hearing. He starts sounding out the area as he waits, shifting his weight nervously from foot to foot.

Alptraum's eyes adjust to the dark more quickly than he would have anticipated – or perhaps it's just that the "light" that was carried by Ariel was so dim that his eyes had already pretty much adjusted to near-darkness by now. Or perhaps more time has passed than he realized. In any case, he can make out the surroundings, and pick out bits and pieces that hint that much of the buildings in this part are actually built from salvage from wrecked naval vessels and airships – and more than a few crates. Flakes of paint and portions of emblems and print are still visible in a variety of languages, and custom stamps from the major empires.

Alptraum tries to listen for Ariel now, to get an idea where she is.

No sound of her. She must be sneaking around awfully quietly in the warehouse. But then, Alptraum hears something else that is somewhat distracting. "I'm a little matehpot, short and stout! Here is my handle, here is my spout!" a child's voice rings out.

Alptraum shakes his head. "Okay, where did that come from," he mutters, trying to place the location of the voice.

The singing echoes in the strange acoustics of the alley, making it hard to place, but then Alptraum sees a child skipping along – a little raccoon-child in a miniature version of a sailor's outfit, or, rather, what a mother with an overbearing desire to make her darling son look like a "precious little sailor" might impose upon a child. Or perhaps not a son, after all – Alptraum isn't all that familiar with raccoons, but this is quite possibly a little girl, rather.

Alptraum starts walking toward the child, eyeing it. "Is this a ghost? It's rather early for a kid to be out here." he thinks. He emits a few short bursts of sound, trying to see if it reflects off the child to indicate if she is solid.

If he were going by echolocation alone … no, the child is not there. She skips merrily along, swinging a small stuffed doll held tightly in one hand, then stops abruptly, looking up at Alptraum with dark, expressive eyes. "Hello, Mister," she says. Yes, with the bows in her hair, it's got to be a girl, or some very cruel parents.

Alptraum smiles to the little girl. "Hello there," he says. "Awfully early for you to be out here, isn't it? Where are your parents?" he asks, kneeling down to bring himself to her height.

"I don't know, Mister," the little girl says. "I'm looking for Mommy and Daddy. Daddy said he had to help protect us, and Mommy got sick. The priest lady took me and the other kids and we ran and ran and hid. And now I don't know where Mommy and Daddy are. Can you help me find them?"

"I don't know, but I can try," Alptraum tells the little girl. "Where did you last see them? What happened to the priest and others?" He then holds out his hand to the child.

The child is hesitant, but reaches forward. At the touch, Alptraum can tell she is insubstantial – He feels a chill, as if a mist were brushing his hands, and not the solid touch of fingers, but it is gentle and soft nonetheless. "She got sick, too." The raccoon girl seems on the verge of tears. "We all got sick."

Just then, Alptraum's ears seem to have lost their momentary near-numbness, perhaps inspired by close proximity to the active paranormal, as he hears footsteps coming up behind him, from the entrance of the warehouse.

Alptraum tilts his head and looks at the girl sadly. "I understand," he tells her, then cants his ears backward. Perhaps its Ariel. He wonders just what she would think of this little girl. "Where were your parents last? I bet they're looking for you too," he tells her.

"Stand away from it," Ariel says from behind Alptraum, calmly but forcefully.

"She's a child, even if she is a ghost now. She only wants to find her parents," Alptraum replies soft, but firm.

"It is not a child. It is an echo of a child that was once alive, but is now dead. Pretending it's a real person is not going to make it true. Step away," Ariel says.

"We should help her find rest," Alptraum says. "Not send her back to the darkness of the Sea of Souls, Ariel. She has not threatened us."

The child seems unaware of Ariel's intrusion, despite the exchange, instead focused on Alptraum. "Daddy joined the soldiers. He used to be a soldier, before he said he got a bad war wound and got his leg really badly hurt, but he said he knows how to fight, and he'd protect us."

Alptraum nods quietly to the little girl. "Can't you understand her, Ariel?" Alptraum then asks.

"Yes, I can," Ariel says. "And there is no Sea of Souls. It is a myth, a shaping of magic by the will and dreams of mortal people. Ghosts exist as echoes of our lives as mortals in the ether of magic. The other 'realms' are echoes of our own dreams and myths."

"I've been to the Sea of Souls," Alptraum replies softly. "More than once. It exists."

Ariel shakes her head. "Stand aside, Alptraum. You're not making this any easier."

Alptraum turns his head and looks back at Ariel. "Let me try to help her. If it fails, I'll step aside, okay?" he asks.

"Mister," the little girl says, "if you find Big Brother, please tell him we're in Hold Number Five. I think people were looking for us, but they can't find us. Please tell Big Brother. He's going to be a captain in the Air Fleet. Captain Renfrew." She seems a little less distinct. "I miss Big Brother," she says.

"If I ever meet him, I'll tell him. Hold number five," Alptraum tells the little girl. He then pulls his hand back and smiles sadly again.

The girl steps back … and at that moment, a bolt of white light shoots forth from Ariel's outstretched hand. The ghost fades into the shadows, and the beam of light misses its mark, exploding into mist and then quickly dissipating into nothingness. Ariel groans loudly.

Alptraum gets up from where he was kneeling. He turns, then starts walking away. He doesn't look at the mage.

Ariel doesn't call after Alptraum or go chasing after him. He's left to make his way – alone – back along the way. He comes closer to the lights and the sounds of chattering, though the singing and music has stopped. The clouds are beginning to glow with the redness of dawn, though Alptraum hasn't a view of the horizon just now, thanks to the buildings around him.

Alptraum sighs softly and looks upward. "Why do I screw everything up?" he asks in Sylvanian, then shrugs. He continues onward, towards the sound of talking as the day dawns.

Back on the ship, Alptraum manages to sleep until noon without any interruptions, and then he finally gets up and about to look at the paquebot in daylight. It's really not much different from Little Rephidim East, except that there are a lot more Eeee and a lot fewer Nagai and lizard-people. He even sees a Fnerf – a large fellow who looks like a centauroid version of a Fox like Hexen, thus having four legs and two arms. And apparently this isn't an oddity that draws any special attention in these parts (except for overly isolated tourists here for the first time).

He finds his way across the paquebot, which is laid out similarly to the other (not surprisingly) and he pretty soon finds his way to the area where a number of makeshift shops have been set up by merchants stopping on their journey to do some small trading with fellow travelers. One booth sells all varieties of fruits and bugs – of the still-living or well cooked variety. Another sells various Babelite linens. A Fnerf sells Urite trinkets. A woman claiming to be a Yodhinala sells … well, Alptraum can't exactly find out, because some guards in Star-and-Anchor tabards shoo her along.

Alptraum makes his way toward the linen seller as he looks around the makeshift bazaar. "Good day," he greets the merchant as he gets close. "I'm a traveler heading towards Babel and I'm interested in getting, well, more appropriate attire for the city. I fear my normal garb would look woefully out of place. Do you have anything appropriate for the city?"

The merchant almost looks surprised. "Heading toward Babel! Oh, yes, paying your res – No, I don't need to know. I do not need to know!" the scrawny little white bat squeaks, waving his hands to forestall any explanation. "Now, it all depends on the sort of statement you want to make… " He directs Alptraum's attention to several different items laid out, narrowing it down to those most likely to fit him. Babelite male garb, it seems, is actually quite varied in style, ranging outfits as frugal as little more than a layered kilt and vest, to blousy garments specially tailored to allow for Eeee wings, to high-class robes with overcoats that would have to be discarded in order to fly at all.

"I don't need anything special. I'm just going to reunite with family," Alptraum assures the merchant. "What would you recommend, to avoid looking too out of place there? What is most common?"

"Ah," the Eeee says. "But surely you'd like to make a good impression? I take it you've not been to Babel before, eh, if you've not got clothes for the trip?" His hand drifts toward the selection of more ornamented robes – which have a look about them that suggest Alptraum probably could not afford them.

"Not since I was very young. I left when I was about one year old," Alptraum explains. He looks over the robes a moment, then grins weakly and asks, "Do you have anything relatively affordable? My funding for this trip is rather limited."

"How limited?" the Eeee asks, leaning forward and warily sizing Alptraum up.

Alptraum fidgets and admits, "Well, I only have roughly one hundred shekels remaining."

"Ah! That would be enough to get you a fine suit, then," the merchant says, gesturing to one of the robe sets – not the fanciest set, but still a fair deal nicer than anything Alptraum has ever worn before.

"Well, I'm not sure such would really suit me. And honestly, I'm not sure what the family would prefer," Alptraum says. "Plus, I shouldn't spend all my money before I even get there, Avralie?"

"Hmm," the merchant says, stroking his chin. "Some clothes more suitable to traveling – in style," he suggests, pointing to a tunic and trousers fastened about the middle by a sash, in many ways not all that foreign to Sylvanian garb, though made of an off-white fabric with a belt of blue fabric so dark as to appear almost black – a very stark contrast against Alptraum's natural coloration (which isn't quite yet obvious to see).

"Not bad. What would such cost? And do you have anything a bit, ah, darker than that?" Alptraum asks.

"Fifty shekels for the whole set," the merchant says. "And we can mix and match to your liking." He indicates some other garb of similar cut, though of various other colors – cardinal red, cobalt blue, viridian green and black, and black with red trim (very similar to Nekara's own uniform).

"All right. "Do you have a place to try different things on to find a pattern that looks decent? I'd prefer something dark blue to black," Alptraum says. "And I was wondering, isn't red and black sort of … temple of Sunala coloring? Wouldn't that draw trouble?"

The merchant laughs. "It only shows that you are devout!"

"Well, I'm just a little wary, I guess. I had a Yodhsunala come from my family back there. I'm not certain I want to draw more of their attention. Even though it is a nice color scheme," Alptraum says.

The merchant blinks at this. "Ah … I see. Well, the customer is always right! How about green and black, then?"

Alptraum considers the various color schemes and taps his chin. "Well, perhaps if I did select such a color scheme, I might blend in a bit better with them. I could always just match my old white shirt with it for a change. I think it should still work. Black does go with everything," he thinks. "All right, I think I will go with the black and red color scheme after all. Fifty you said, right?"

"Fifty shekels," the merchant repeats, "and worth every last coin!"

"All right. Will you accept one iron shekel?" Alptraum inquires. "And mind if I try it on to make sure it fits?"

The Eeee looks wary, then says, "Let me see it, and make sure it's the true thing, and not shaved. If it's real, I'll let you try on the clothes." He pats the flap of the tent behind him. "In privacy, of course."

Alptraum digs out the iron shekel from his pouch and offers it to the merchant. "Check it out, then," he replies.

The merchant examines it, subjects it to various tests, then says, "I'll hold onto it. You can take these into the tent."

"As you wish. If they don't fit well, I do want it back," Alptraum replies as he gathers up the clothing. He enters the tent and changes clothes quickly. A few minutes later he steps out holding out his arms. "Your opinion?" he asks.

"You look like a returning prince!" the merchant gushes, radiating bias.

Alptraum face-palms. He looks at himself this way and that, trying to check if the clothing fits decently. He realizes he isn't going to get a totally objective reply from the merchant, but he had to try.

It fits him fairly well. Maybe the trouser legs could use a little hemming up, but Alptraum could probably manage that himself if need be. He definitely looks a lot less Sylvanian.

"Looks good. I'll take it. Pardon me while I change back," Alptraum says, then slips back into the tent. A few minutes later, he emerges dressed in his usual garb, a neatly folded set of clothes tucked under one arm. "Thank you," he tells the merchant. "The coin is yours in payment."

"And by the way – Is there any recent news from Babel? I've heard some pretty bad things as of late. But, being on a ship limits how often we do get news. Have you heard of anything in say the recent week or so?" Alptraum inquires.

"The recent week?" the merchant says with a laugh. "Sorry, but news travels not that quickly to this place. So far as I know, the towers are still standing, and not much more than that."

Alptraum shrugs and replies, "I had to ask." He then bows slightly to the merchant and wanders off. After looking upward to try and judge the rough time of day, he starts browsing the other shops quickly, but not planning to spend anymore money. "I should probably get back to the ship and check up with Nekara and Autumn-Storm," he thinks.

---

GMed by Greywolf

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Today is 14 days after Candlemass, Year 29 of the Reign of Archelaus the First (6128)