In the days leading up to the party, Rory notices that the scene on the mountaintop has become increasingly elaborate, not to mention crowded. Every time he visits, it seems like there are more people at the site. Work has not only progressed on the ship-stage, but on a variety of subsidiary projects to make the guests more comfortable. The little unicorn has continued to shower people where ever he went with invitations to the party – and been a little surprised at the number who not only answered they'd be there – but that they had already been invited.

The mages have, for the most part, stayed in the background, though Kris enlisted several to help with various parts. Mage bar Emanuel volunteered to coordinate security efforts, especially as he noticed how large the affair was growing. The Revenants have worked with him, and enlisted some other toughs, in the hopes of ensuring the peaceful atmosphere Dinah repeatedly insists will prevail.

On the evening of the big event, the young shadow mage is putting the final touches on his personal contributions to the production in a "backstage" area carved out of the snow underneath the deck of the snow ship. As he finishes, Silhouette slips up to him. "Rory." Her stance, flickering in the lamplight, projects disbelief. "You have got to come out and see this."

The smoke and flickering of fire pits can be seen near a covered but open-sided pavilion that houses tables laden with a bewildering variety of food. Giant insects, roasted whole in the pits, act as carapaced centerpieces amid the myriad dishes that guests have brought in contribution to the party. On the slope above the stage, heavy poles have been sunk eight feet into the ground, and thick rope strung between them at six foot intervals, starting about ten feet of the ground – providing a place for Eeee guests to hang while they watch the show.

But what catches Rory's eye, more than the elaborate preparations with which he is already familiar, is the sheer number of people. The pavilion is overflowing with pedestrian traffic. Scores of bats already hang from the strung ropes, chatting amiably together while munching on sticks of candied beetles. So many are clustered around the fire pits for warmth that Rory can't even see them except for the smoke. The crowd is so huge that he can't even spot any of the Revenants among them, and he can only pick out Nuri bar Emanuel by the big fireballs that circle over the bat's head. There must be thousands of people here. It's as if all of Babel turned out for the celebration.

The unicorn mage's jaw drops at the sight. He reaches up to rub his eyes reflexively, then squeaks and sputters as he inadvertently gets powdered snow in his face from the action (forgetting to dust his hands off first after clambering around "backstage").

"Darrrrrk!" he exclaims, once he recovers from this episode, and blinks a few times to make sure it isn't just some sort of illusion. (Not that he's really certain that blinking several times is proof against any decent illusion, but it just seems the thing to do at the moment.) He looks this way and that, matching faces against a thousand or a hundred or maybe at least forty people he recalls inviting over the past several days, hoping to see them all there. (With this much of a turnout, his hopes are quite high.)

Now that he's really searching, Rory can spot people he recognizes. There's that woman from the sweetshop, carrying a platter full of candied bugs over to the pavilion. There are two of the priestesses from the Wound, hands folded into their robes, surveying the scene in silence. On the other side of the crowd are a handful of acolytes and assistants from the Rinala hospice … and there's Gusty, talking to Nuri on the perimeter. Skiree's brother is hanging from one of the ropes near the deck.

Perched carefully atop one of the posts is one of the Eeee who volunteered time to help set up the various structures for the event. His wings splay out slightly to help him retain balance while he tests the rope on either side with a firm tug. Satisfied that this setup seems secure, he runs his hand through his stark white hair and looks out over the crowds, silver eyes glinting from being a few stray strands. "And I thought we threw festivals back in Sylvania. This is incredible," he, Alptraum, thinks.

Rory claps his hands to his cheeks, and lets out a shrill happy squeal. "This is just so … so … ECLIPSE THE SUN!" Hardly able to keep in the excitement, he runs around in a circle, flailing his arms and cheering, then rushes over to the nearest whomever-he-sees to share his glee. "Hey up there!" he cries to the Sylvanian Eeee on the post he rushes up to. "How many people are there, do you think? Isn't this the biggest, darkest, most GARGANTUAN party ever? Good thing we have a mountain to hold it on! WHOOOOOOO!"

Rory runs a few circles around the post for good measure. (Maybe it's all the candy he ate to give him "extra energy" for his preparations.)

The Eeee blinks and grips onto the top of the post to secure his position, slightly startled. "How many?" he repeats the question. "Not really sure. I'd guess at least a thousand are here, judging from this vantage poin – … hey! You're making me dizzy." He snaps his wings out and hops from the top of the pole and short-glides to the ground.

"I'm making me dizzy! Aieeeeee!" Rory stops and turns around in a few lazy circles, then stumbles and falls on his back in a pile of snow, sleeves flailing. He giggles and makes an improvised snow-angel. "Hey, Silhouette, did you get a count?" He gets up and looks around, shaking snow from his mane. "I just can't believe it!" He looks up at the sun. "Oh … not too long before the show. I hope I don't blow it! That would be real embarrassing with the whole city watching."

The mood of the evening feels charged with excitement, and not just by the little unicorn. Dinah is clustered with a couple of Eeee actors and Kris at the edge of the stair, whispering and pointing to some of the conveniently located mounds of snowballs. The partygoers are festive and well-fed, with newcomers bringing in food faster than the existing piles can be depleted. A mound of offerings for the temples – and the Monument in particular – have grown near where the Rephath priestesses stand, and even they look less stern and forbidding than usual.

"Show? Oh, are you helping out with whatever has been planned to do?" Alptraum asks, eyeing the rather excited little unicorn. He dusts off his jacket and smiles, saying, "I really don't know what is planned for tonight, but I'm sure you'll do fine."

Silhouette, with her usual shyness of crowds, lurks near the base of the snow ship, invisible among the other shadows to any but Rory. "I don't know," she signs back. "More than a thousand, though. And they're still coming! We're not even supposed to start 'til dark and there's still sunlight!" Indeed, though the sun has disappeared beneath the perimeter of mountains, the sky is still light, with no stars to be seen.

Rory nods vigorously to Alptraum and to Silhouette, then laments, "I wish I had time to run around and thank everyone for coming! But if I did … my throat would be all hoarse! And my legs would be wobbly. And … well … you get the idea. I'll just have to thank them all afterward. Or maybe if I just thank everyone at once. Aw, that's too impersonal. Oh well. I'll let Dinahzadze do it instead. She can talk faster." He gets up and dusts himself off. "I sure hope they don't get bored first."

And then, the unicorn registers, "Huh, wait a minute. You're here and you don't know what's planned? Oh my goodness! Oh yeah, I guess I didn't tell everyone that part. Well, you see, it's not just a party. It's going to be a celebration of the Wild Hunt, or whatever it's called, where Rockmore got whopped real good by the Avenger for dropping the Boomer on Babel."

The unicorn points at the snow ship. "That's Rockmore's airship, see? And just wait until you see the Avenger! He is WAYYYY scary. Glad he's a good guy, for sure!"

Alptraum looks toward the ship and narrows his eyes, thinking back. He then takes a step back, remembering the dream. "That … I see," Alptraum replies. "I remember that."

"Oh!" Rory says, nodding. "Well, it seems most do. But I don't. I guess I missed it. But I'll do my best anyway! And Dinahzadze's going to narrate, and she talks fast, like I said, so you'll have to be sure and listen to every bit, or you'll miss something important. Though, I suppose, if you already remember it, you can probably fill in the blanks. But it'll be wild, really. We put a lot of work into it. And – oh, yeah, I suppose you know, since I guess you're helping and stuff? I haven't exactly gotten to meet everyone and learn all their names. Hi! I'm Rorschach Stormshadow of the Sphere of Shadow!" He extends a hand and a floppy sleeve to the bat.

"Well, I remember it, but I wasn't there to witness it. Not … ," Alptraum starts to reply, then gets distracted by the offered hand. "Ah, it's not important," he then adds and takes the offered hand and shakes it. "Alptraum bar Reisender, just a nobody and relatively new to Babel," he says with a grin.

In the blue vault of the sky above, the first stars of the Procession wink down, pinpricks of white light. Even Alptraum spots a few familiar faces among the crowd. Lord Cenesta, who had suggested that the gypsy bat volunteer to help, stands by the pavilion, chatting with someone whose face can't be seen from here.

"Awww! Nobody's a nobody, least of all not you!" Rory insists. "I mean, hey, you are here and helping out and everything, right? So that makes you a somebody – not to say that you weren't a somebody before or anything. I don't want to be elitist. Not unless everybody gets to be elite." He pauses to look at the sky, and sighs deeply. "I hope Skiree's watching." He picks a star from the Procession and waves at it vigorously, hopping up and down. "Hiiiiiiii, Skiree! I'll save some candy for you!"

"Skiree? Who … ?" Alptraum starts to ask, then it dawns on him. "Was Skiree one who … well, the boomer?"

Rory looks to Alptraum, his smile fading to a serious look. "Yeah … well … " To change the subject, he digs through a pocket and pulls out some of his portable cache of candy. "Hey, want a piece? I've got extra. I've got gishy-worms, squiggly-pops, crackleberry clusters, goobernut gobs, and … and … I don't really know what this one is, but it's good, trust me." He looks around at some of the others further away. "Do you think any of the Yodh would want candy? I don't know if they're allowed to have any. They just sort of stand around and look solemn. Well, except for the Yodhblakat, but… "

Letting the subject drop, Alptraum replies, "Oh, no thanks Rorschach, I'd better not. Too much candy and it upsets my stomach." He follows the little unicorn's gaze and then says, "And as for the Yodh, well, some might, but I'm not sure. Odd groups they are. I rather doubt the Yodhrepath would want any. Are they the only Yodh from the temples here, you think?"

A couple of Yodhblakat are not, in fact, looking the least bit solemn. They're busy annexing fruit and deep-fried insects from a pair of young toughs, who look surly about the affair, but don't put up too much fuss. Rory finally spots some of the Revenants – they're keeping an eye on the rowdy Yodh.

Rory gulps as he spots the antics of the Yodhblakat, and then feels sorry for the toughs who are getting relieved of munchies. (Lacking any fruit or deep-fried insects, though, he's not sure if candy would be an appropriate compensation.) "Oh," he says absently, and pops an unidentified piece of candy in his mouth. "Welph, morph for meph!" He chews it quickly, then gulps it down. "I probably should go check on things. Are you going to be around after the play? I think there'll be dancing. Maybe music, even. I'm a pretty good dancer. Silhouette says so. Do you dance any?" He does a quick hoof-jig to demonstrate.

Alptraum laughs. "Oh, I dance, but I can't claim to be any good at it. I'm better playing music than dancing to it," he replies with a grin. "I should be around after the play, though. I'm glad to just be away from the temple for a bit. I'll see you later, then?"

"All right!" Rory says, and starts to turn, and then he suddenly stops in place. "Oh! Oh! I'm such a woozlehead! You asked me a question, didn't you? Well, those are Yodhblakat over there. If you've got anything you don't want them to snatch from you, I'd suggest you give them plenty of room. I mean, I like giving candy away, but it's not the same when you have it grabbed from you. I'm sure they'd agree. Any road, I'm off. Seeeeeeee ya!" He dashes back off to the snow-ship, waving behind him as he goes, and waving in turn to anyone who happens to look his direction.

Not long afterwards, a little bat girl descends onto the stage, while the first section of Rory's multiple-part ritual darkens the air over the rest of the crowd. A spotlight centers on her, and she booms out, in a magically amplified voice, "HI EVERYONE!"

A ragged chorus of "Hi, Dinah!" answers her from the crowd, while the little batling looks surprised by her own voice. "WOW, THAT WAS LOUD! AND SO IS THIS! BUT YOU ALL CAN HEAR ME, RIGHT?" People living in the valley and not attending can probably hear her. "I WANT TO THANK YOU ALL FOR COMING! ESPECIALLY ON THIS NIGHT, OF ALL NIGHTS! IF YOU'LL ALL GET COMFORTABLE, WE'LL GET STARTED!" The milling crowd flits to perches on the ropes, or mats and blankets on the ground, settling into place.

Once the crowd is settled, Dinahzadze draws a deep breath. More seriously than Rory has ever heard her before, she pronounces, "Six years ago, on this very night, the worst thing that ever happened to anyone, anywhere, happened to us. I don't need to tell you what it was, because you all know." She looks over her shoulder at the Wound for a moment, then turns back. "You don't need any more reminders of that. Tonight, we're here to remember something else.

"What was done to us was wrong. It was so wrong, so evil, so horrible, that the whole world knew that the one who did it had to be punished. The whole world knew!" Dinah draws herself up, flaring out her wings to make herself look bigger. "And one year ago tonight, we paid him back! The Sisters themselves led the way! And the whole world helped us: Templars from Rephidim, mages from Caroban, even an Exile from another planet! And this is what we're here to remind you all of, what the Avenger did for all of us. One year ago, we saw justice done! And this is what is was like!" She bows, and hops down from the center of the deck, as a swarm of people boil out of the snow ship's hold.

The people swarming the stage are mostly Eeee, dressed to evoke the idea of being other races – feathers on their wings to suggest a Korv or Vartan, or the wings concealed against their backs. They wear clothing of foreign make, padded to suggest greater size, and most have tails or one sort or another tied on, as well as masks on their faces. They are led, however, by a person distinctly not Eeee.

Alptraum once again perches atop one of the poles near the stage, just off center. He wraps his wings around himself and quiets to watch the performance.

A massive stallion, his features hard as if chiseled from stone, and scoured with a hundred jagged scars, paces the deck of his airship, the bearer of a deadly cargo. "New Year's Eve," he bellows. "New Year's Eve, and Babel is awake tonight. You celebrate, you laugh, you sing … but that will soon end. I will make your joy into sorrow, your laughter into tears, your music into utter silence. And then I … I will laugh." He glowers as he leans against the rail, then rears back his head, whinnying maniacally.

The crewmen perform a variety of tasks about the deck – some of them tugging ropes, others preparing ballistae, some climbing up the rigging and scanning the horizon warily for any enemies that might challenge their passage.

Darkness descends on the stage, mirroring the artificial blackness over the crowd. The stars are briefly blotted out. A flash of lightning cuts the night, followed by thunder. Then, a voice from the stage announces, "It is done, my captain. Babel bleeds beneath us!"

The horse brays mad laughter. "Mwahahahahahahaa! It is done! It is done indeed! It is done, and will never be undone! Never again will you celebrate this night – for now, it is mine!"

The crowd gave a few hisses and boos at Rockmore's initial appearance, but the magical effects of the next scene subdued them, leaving them rapt and attentive, though with a palpable tinge of hate. In the stillness, Alptraum, perched easily on top of one of the poles, feels a slight, curious vibration in the wood.

The eerie, inhuman wailing of groks pierces the stillness, braying from all sides. The Eeee in the crowd flatten their ears at the noise, and the crew on stage portray a staged nervousness that makes it clear this is part of the show.

Alptraum's eyes leave the stage and looks down at the pole he's perched on. He grips the top with his claws and digs them in to steady his position and looks around the base, trying to locate the source of the vibration.

The horse captain's head twists this way then that. "What? What was that? Do you see anything?" He narrows his eyes, then paces across the deck. "No matter, it is too late. Full sails to the Far Skies! We will be long gone before they can shake themselves from their shock, and rally against us. Never will they find us! Ha ha!"

At the base of the pole, Alptraum can hear, more than see, a couple of figures. At first he thinks that they're just leaning against it – then he realizes that their heads are pointed towards the pole, not at the stage. The vibrations are growing a little more distinct.

"But they will!" A snow-white female poodle, dressed in elaborate armor with a tabard over it bearing the Temple Star-and-Anchor emblazoned over it, emerges from behind a cabin, pointing a gleaming sword at the equine. "Where will you run to? Who will shield you, Rockmore? Even the Temple despises you for the evil you have done this night!" She spits on the ground at his feet.

Alptraum flicks his wings out and he flaps off the pole. A few moments later, he lands on the ground a few feet away. He stretches, trying to appear as if he's just changing viewpoint, then looks over his shoulder toward the pole and the figures.

"What?!" Rockmore whinnies, his ragged mane tossing as he turns to regard the intruder. "How did you – ?"

"I am here to demand your surrender, Rockmore, you villain!" the poodle says, advancing on him and menacing him with the sword. "You are a monster! A vicious, murderous, scoundrel! You have shamed all of Rephidim with your actions, and even the Temple will do whatever it takes to bring you to justice!"

One of the two figures notices Alptraum land, and turns, with the same studied casualness the Sylvanian employed, stretching out his wings to block the white-haired Eeee's view of his companion – but not before Alptraum spots the other man pouring something on the base of the pole His keen ears catch a sizzling sound from the wood.

Alptraum turns and starts walking toward the two figures. "Hey folks, the show is this way. You're going to miss it!" he says amiably, trying to smile. "Surely you don't want to miss it, do you?"

"A monster, you call me!" Rockmore brays, his nostrils flaring, and he draws a large and battle-nicked sword. "I bear these scars thanks to the stings of the Plaguebringers; as it is so often said, the sting of a Plaguebringer is worse than a hundred deaths. Well then – a hundred deaths will I repay for every scar, and if there be more, it is only just for all those no longer alive to avenge themselves! Babel deserves its fate – and I will not let a whelp such as you steal my moment of glory! Have at you!" He springs forward, swinging his sword, even as his crewmen draw their weapons to join in the fight. They reach the poodle before Rockmore does, and the poodle almost effortlessly dispatches the first few of them (who dramatically roll and flop about and cry out loudly when they fall), but then Rockmore closes, and batters her back with heavy blows from his sword – even though she manages to parry every attack with her own shining blade.

The crewmen close in on the poodle, and it appears that Rockmore has the upper hand … and then, the air about the deck darkens…

"No, of course not," the Eeee blocking Alptraum's view says, shifting position to stand fully between the Sylvanian and the pole. "Great show, hey?" The hissing noise continues at the base of the pole, and the Eeee still there muffles a curse. Those nearby shush him, their eyes following the spotlight as it shifts off the now-black stage.

Once close enough to the blocking Eeee, Alptraum puts a hand his shoulder. "Come now, move aside, you're blocking your friend's view." He smiles, yet his eyes narrow coldly and he says, "You wouldn't want him to perhaps contact the Yodhrepath because you disrupted his enjoyment of the show, would you?"

The spotlight leads to a platform far from the snow ship, and stops, illuminating a new scene. There, a strange beige-furred man with feathery wings stands, holding a massive double bladed axe. A red-armored Eeee appears out of nowhere, in a clap of thunder, and says to the figure. "Ranger, you swore once that you would help my people. Keep your promise now! Show my Avenger the way!"

Behind the Ranger, a tall, black-furred Eeee steps into the spotlight. He wears a sleeveless tunic that shows off his muscular arms and chest, while a mage's chain hangs around his neck. His eyes glow green. "Show me the way," he repeats, his voice ominous and deep.

The Ranger says, "I will," and the spotlight on them fades.

Light returns to the snow ship deck, illuminating a scene where Rockmore has backed the poodle into a cabin wall, and they stand, locked with her sword only just keeping Rockmore's from her throat. But the Rhian is pushing down on her, when a lovely, throaty pair of voices cries, "Stop!"

Meanwhile, in the audience, the Eeee by the pole mumbles, "I'm fine. Got a fine view." He is shaking the fingers of one hand off to one side, as Alptraum can see from his new vantage point next to the blocker. The hissing sound has stopped, but the bat is using his other hand to fumble at a flask.

In a whisper, Alptraum replies to the one blocking him, and the one behind the blocking back. "I don't think so. Now listen up and listen good: that little kid went to a lot of trouble for this party. This is something the people here need. You've got once chance to get out of here with both of your skins intact, or I summon the Yodhrepath. I suggest taking it, now," he says, smiling darkly.

Stunned by the voice of the new arrival on stage, and looking for a moment as if caught in a daze, Rockmore pulls back from the poodle, ignoring an opening in her defenses … instead turning to look at the angelic apparition. Despite his break away from the combat, however, Rockmore's grip on his sword is still strong … and he holds it like he's still quite ready to use it.

Blocker says, "I – what do you – " while behind him, the crouching Eeee curses. "Gorphat take this!" He scoops up a bit of snow clinging at the base of the pole, and a hissing sound echoes the movement. Then he wings off. Blocker squeaks, backs away from Alptraum, and moves to do the same.

In twinned voices, the Avatar, a vision of a horned, white-furred, golden-haired woman with a Rhian-like face but an Eeee's wings, says, "The Sisters denounce you, Rockmore! You have stolen the pleasure from My fair city, and We shall repay you a thousand fold with Our wrath! Your secrets We shall lay bare, and with magic We will find you! Your diseased mind will make you weak, and with wrath We will fight you." She speaks with a certain hesitancy, though her voice resonates. Rory can almost see through Kris's illusion to the brown eyes of an Eeee desperately trying to remember all that she wanted to say.

Rockmore grits his teeth, defiant in the face of this angelic being's criticism – unwilling to repent, but somehow compelled to allow her to speak her peace before he continues his fight.

Alptraum's eyes narrow and moves closer to Blocker again. "Why are you trying to disrupt this?" he asks in a hiss, flexing his wings to indicate he will pursue of the Eeee takes flight.

"Our vengeance will be merciless!" the Avatar continues, growing stronger, "and with Death we will reward you! And I – " She leans closer, purring the last line out seductively, "will take pleasure in that." A dozen angry, sword-bearing Eeee suddenly pour onto the stage.

The would-be saboteur gives a weak smile, backing away from Alptraum until he thumps into the pole. "'s just a little prank," he mumbles.

Snapped from his reverie, the horse captain roars in anger at this new wave of attackers. "My men, swat these weaklings like the buzzing pests they are! Nothing of Babel will match my fury!" He punctuates this with a broad sweep of his sword, and the battle rejoins. Chitin and wood clash and rattle, a silvery blade sings, and combatants on both sides cry out, sometimes plummeting from the sides of the airship into the darkness beyond the stage. But for all the new enemies arrayed against him, Rockmore holds his own, and he shows no sign of giving ground or growing weary of the battle.

Alptraum smiles back, this time exposing his fangs. "I see – just a prank. Just hurt a bunch of people, maybe even kill a few when the chaos ensues? If you can't tell, I'm not laughing. Who put you up to it?" he says grimly.

The crowd surges angrily at Rockmore's words, booing and hissing at the Rhian. A few snowballs thump into the stage, landing shy of the equine that would be their target. sp But the staged battle rages on, and the sailors fend off the fresh assault, then start beating them back. Just as it looks like Rockmore is sure to be victorious, the black-furred Avenger soars in. Wielding Rephath's double-bladed axe with ease, the black bat smites down the crew members one after another. They drop to the snowy planks with exaggerated cries of pain and thrash around in their death-throes. The crowd cheers as the green-eyed hero lands, face-to-face with the unbloodied Rockmore.

Blocker starts to sidle around the pole. "No one," he mumbles. "Wasn't gonna hurt no one." His act is even worse than that of the girl playing Envoy. He glances over his shoulder, telegraphing his intent to flee to Alptraum.

Rockmore spins to face the Avenger, his nostrils flared, his eyes narrowed and flaming with rage … but then they widen, and he staggers back a step at the sheer presence of this latest opponent.

"Are you afraid to face me?" the black bat snarls. He advances on Rockmore, the terrible axe poised over his shoulder. "Are you afraid to face what you have done?"

Alptraum reaches out to grab the shirt of Blocker. "That's a lie," Alptraum says. "You would've hurt a lot of people. Now, unless you want me dragging you up to the kid, who happens to be a mage, to explain what you were up to, I suggest you tell me who put you up to this."

"I fear no one!" Rockmore whinnies in defiance, though without the same fire he had when facing his previous opponents. "I fear not even the women you claim as your gods! What can I possibly fear from just one man, such as you?"

"Everything," the Avenger replies, his voice cold, calm. "I will show you fear." He brings the double-bladed axe forward in one smooth stroke.

Rockmore throws up his blade to fend off the blow, but it is batted away like a stick in the hand of a child, and the axe connects. The horse reels backward from the force of the blow, and then he stands up again, he holds up a hand in surprise, soaked in blood – his own. He raises his sword, gathering up in his throat a battle cry, with only the bravery of the desperate as he rushes forward, trying to land a blow against this impossibly powerful opponent…

Blocker tries to slip away, but though Alptraum misses his grab for the front of his shirt, he manages to snag the other Eeee's left sleeve. "No one!" he whimpers, trying to tug his arm free. His right hand vanishes from sight beneath his cloak.

Alptraum, not about to let Blocker go for whatever weapon he's trying for, moves quickly. "I don't think so," he hisses softly and pulls on the shirt hard to bring the Eeee closer. His other hand then swings up in a hard punch, aimed for Blocker's jaw.

On the stage, the Avenger brings his axe forward again, and this time he knocks the sword out of Rockmore's hand as he slashes open the Rhian's chest. "Are you learning?" he asks, in the same wintry voice.

The Sylvanian's strength catches Blocker by surprise, and the blow knocks his head back, slamming it into the post, and the Eeee's eyes roll back in his head. A knife slips out of Blocker's right hand and clatters to the hard-packed ground.

"Yaaaaaa-NGH!" the horse cries, his bravado quickly melting away now that he's faced with an opponent he cannot beat away with his own considerable brawn. He stumbles and briefly sinks out of view, one hand flailing out as he tries – and fails – to hold himself up against the deck's railing.

Alptraum lets the Eeee go. "Ow," he comments, rubbing his hand, "You've got a hard head." He pushes Blocker over onto the ground and searches him for a belt, pausing now and then to look up for one of the Revenants to hand this fellow over to for trying to cause trouble.

The Avenger stands over his fallen foe, and raises his axe as if to behead the Rhian. Then, he lowers it, slowly, to rest on the ground. "No. You are not worthy, even of Sunala's gift. No. I will give you something else." He lets the axe fall to the ground, and pulls forth the scales of Rephath. "I will give back to you exactly what you gave to me – to all my people. All the pain, all the suffering, all the hatred, all the anger. You will die ten thousand deaths. You will learn what you have done."

A Revenant, in fact, is on top of Alptraum almost before he's gotten to a kneeling position next to Blocker. "No fighting, there," the makeshift guard says warningly. "This is a nice peaceful party. Save your anger for the show."

"This one and a partner of his was messing with the pole here. I think they were trying to cause it to collapse," Alptraum replies to the Revenant. "I caught them in the act. One fled; this one was about to knife me when I pressed him for who put them up to this."

Dinahzadze pops back onto center stage, the spotlight focusing on her and dimming over the rest of the stage, while the Avenger works some sort of ritual over Rockmore. Envoy and the Templar join him, chanting softly, while Dinah declares, "And so it would be! The Avenger summoned the wounded spirits of Babel to destroy their murderer, and they came by the thousands to fill Rockmore's loathsome body, and to purge their misery in his mind!" She screams it with an almost gleeful anger. The spotlight flashes back onto Rockmore and the threesome over him. A lightning strike creases the air over him, and the three all step back, their chant crescendoing. Thunder rumbles, silencing the stage.

Then, the entire cast of the show, including Dinah, the "dead" crewmembers and Eeee warriors, as well as the others, pelts the Rhian with snowballs.

"The pole … ?" The Revenant looks skeptical. "Oh … hey … you're one of the workers, aren't you?" His expression eases, but he motions to Alptraum anyway. "Come with me; we'll see what Mage bar Emmanuel thinks. and we'll bring your friend here."

Alptraum nods and answers, "Yes, I helped put some of the lines up." He then slips his arm under one of the fallen Eeee's arms and says, "Certainly. I'll take this side if you'll grab the other."

The crowd quickly gets the idea, and soon the air is a sheeting blizzard of snowballs – most of them aimed at the spot where Rockmore fell, many of them lucky to reach the stage. Gleeful howls, cheers, and laughter add to the bedlam, under which Alptraum and the Revenant hustle off with the unconscious Eeee.

The show, as it turns out, is not so much the climax of the party as the prologue to it. "Pelting Rockmore with snowballs" quickly devolved into "Pelting each other with snowballs," and the entire party turned into one large, good-natured snowball fight. Despite having snuck off stage before the pummeling of the Rockmore-illusion began, Rory soon finds himself half-covered in snow. Fortunately, shadow magic is good for sneaking away from all kinds of fights, play and otherwise, and the unicorn stealthily makes his way into the little security tent for shelter. There, he finds a startlingly dour collection of people – several Revenants, bar Emmanuel, the elder Mage Builder, and Alptraum, as well as one unconscious Eeee.

Rory unhooks his cowl from around his horn, and unravels a snow-caked scarf from around his neck, sputtering and batting away chunks of snow that fall from his horn and mane into his face. Despite this, he hoots with glee, "Did you see that? Whoo! This has got to be the greatest party ever! I mean… " He slowly registers the current mood. "… uhm … " He looks down at the unconscious Eeee. "Oh no! Is he okay? What happened?" His glee gives way to horror.

"Rory," Bar Emmanuel looks to the unicorn with evident relief. "Just the person we need. Can you wake him up? I think he's just fine," the fire mage adds, darkly. A single fireball circles his head, crackling and flickering harmlessly.

"I'm sorry to say some people tried to sabotage the party. This one here is one I caught trying to collapse one of the poles," Alptraum explains, trying to sound apologetic. "He even tried to draw a knife when I wouldn't let him flee, so, I – um – hit him."

One of the Revenants snickers at Alptraum's reluctant admission.

The unicorn, still confused, dashes over to the fallen Eeee, setting his scarf aside. "Oh!" he says, blinking and finally piecing together the reason for the dour mood and the tones of voice. "Well … I'll … uh … wake him up, I guess. Just please don't let him strangle me or anything. I'll see if a cantrip'll do." He closes his eyes and spreads his hands out over the prone Eeee's body, as he sing-songs a nonsensical incantation.

The saboteur has already been well-secured with rope. He doesn't stir as Rory chants, and the air crackles, briefly. Alptraum feels a funny tingle, then the spell is gone. The two other mages give Rory bemused looks.

Rory wrinkles his nose. "Uhm … I don't think a cantrip'll do it. Not one of my cantrips, anyway." His ears blush mightily, and he gives a nervous grin to the other mages. "Anybody got stinky powder?"

Builder pats his pockets, frowning, while bar Emmanuel goes through a purse at his belt, then hands a little leather pouch to Rory.

The unicorn waves the pouch under the prone bat's nose. "Wakey wakey wakey WHOO!"

The bat coughs and blinks a few times, looking disoriented. Mage Builder give the fire mage a "Why didn't you think of that?" look. Bar Emmanuel shrugs.

Alptraum hangs back from the others, just watching curiously.

The unicorn hands the pouch back to Mage bar Emmanuel. "He's awake now. Can someone menacing come and question him? I'm not too good at scaring bad guys out of their wits." He gets up and dusts off his robes some more, and sniffs at one sleeve, then wrinkles his nose.

"Thank you, Rory." Nuri chants briefly. Sparks gather around his palm, crackling and dancing. He kneels next to the prone, bound Eeee, holding his hand over the man's face. "Tell us who sent you. Now."

"No one," Blocker mumbles.

Rory shrinks back, and raises his eyebrows at Blocker's resistance. Nuri, after all, sure seems pretty scary to the unicorn.

Embers flutter down onto his face, and the bat flinches, trying to squirm away. He makes a little whimpering sound, though the sparks don't seem to be burning him, as Nuri says, "Wrong answer. Try again."

"'s just a prank," the Eeee insists.

"Too organized," Alptraum comments grimly. "You had acid, and you were armed."

Mage Builder sighs. "We're wasting our time with him. Let's haul him back to Cyprian. Let him get the truth out of this punk."

The Eeee's eyes flick briefly between the speakers, glancing over Alptraum, then Builder, but he says nothing.

Rory leans over to Alptraum, and puts up a hand to shield his muzzle as he whispers to him, conspiratorially, "He could be a secret agent for the Brotherhood of Armed Thugs! Or the Underground Society of Boomer Admiring Derelicts!"

The unicorn then turns back to the prone Eeee. "Uhm … what were you trying to do, anyway? Asides from pulling a prank? I mean, specifically and all?"

Alptraum lets out a soft snorting laugh at Rory's suggestion. "Look," Alptraum says a few moments later, "do you want to take the fall for all your friends and those who put you up to this? You're better off coming clean now." He then nods to Rory and adds, "Like he asks, what were you hoping to do?"

"Mages," the bound bat sneers, as if it were a dirty word. "I'm not telling you nothing."

The unicorn frowns. "Oh. He's from the Disorganized Anarchic Mage-hating Angsty Goons Elite. You know, if you'd just been trying to knock over a pole, I'd be happy to just say a prank's a prank, but that was really bad pulling a knife. Bad, bad, bad! You should be ashamed of yourself!"

Rory whispers to Alptraum, "And, you know, that was a double negative, too! He just told us that he's not telling us nothing, which means he's telling us something, which means we sure got him good, didn't we?"

"If the pole fell," Alptraum points out, "many people could have been seriously hurt. Worse than the knife, in my opinion." He then grins at the whisper and whispers back, "Well, we can hope, but… "

"DAMAGE?" Builder mouths out soundlessly after Rory's remark. Nuri straightens from his crouch. "You're right, Builder. No need wasting our time with questions, when we know who can get answers." He stands. "Pity you hadn't been watching the show, Prankster," he says, looking at the prone bat. "It would've given you a preview. You're about to meet the real Avenger."