The Frog Pond
Despite being built into the side of a mountain, Castle Draco still has gardens, of a sort. Rather than being decorative, they've largely been taken over by the various wizards and sorceresses in the employ of the Countess. So instead of flowers or topiary, the garden grounds are choked with herbs and strange plants (some of which display alarming mobility). The ponds have been largely left alone, aside from being home to some unusual fish, and have become a bit overgrown with lily-pads and other aquatic flora. This makes them ideal for raising frogs, however.

The herb garden is a bit crowded today, since three full-grown hogs makes for quite a crowd. The figures next to them hardly count – an Eeee and a Korv. To keep them from eating the valuable herbs, the hogs' muzzles have been tied shut, which doesn't keep them from grunting indignantly.

"I can promise it won't hurt, but that's it," Alptraum mutters to the hogs from where he stands near them. Reflexively, he's rubbing his right arm just above where the insect-like part ends. "You can still manage the wraith defense, correct?" he asks Mort in a distracted tone. "This will require a lot of energy to do and I don't quite know how much it will affect me."

"Look for and combat angry spirits – I'll see if I can pull that off," Mortimer replies with what might be sarcasm. He gestures to his left, sending his shadowy minion to the opposite end of the clearing, while he takes sentinel on the other side.

"Well, it's not like they'll be food wielding spirits and food is all you seem to get excited about," Alptraum remarks in a rather droll tone.

"What, if anything, do you wish me to do?" the Frogmilker asks, from where she is leaning on her cane.

Alptraum hms, thinking. "Your … problem. Can he observe what we are about to do?" the Eeee asks. "This is, after all, what I am proposing to do with him too. He's more likely to believe it possible if he sees it in practice."

Mortimer looks wistful at the mention of food wielding spirits. "If only. The food of the dead is bland, as is any food a spirit has fed upon. Ah, for a possessed hog leg, or a zombie pie … " He shakes his head.

"You are disturbed, you know," Alptraum comments to the Korv.

The Skeek gives a short nod. "He can, yes… especially if I concentrate on his presence, rather than trying to keep him in check or simply ignoring him, as I usually do."

"Do you feel safe in allowing him to observe?" Alptraum asks next, his head rolling slightly to the side so that his silver eyes can look to the Skeek.

"The Reaper is never a pleasant thing to contemplate," the reaper replies to Alptraum.

"Not even for the girls you share a bed with now and then?" Alptraum asks Mort as he quirks an amused smile. "They can claim to have had a little death. I know I have heard that line. Particularly from the Yodhblakat, come to think of it."

"I can't say as I know what you're talking about," Mortimer insists. He shifts to lean heavily on his scythe, laying his beak on his arm like he might fall asleep any minute.

The Skeek nods again, only this time with a slight smile. "Concentrating on his presence and actually allowing him to control me are two different situations," she remarks. "He will see and hear everything through my senses and I will be able to know what he thinks of it all, but you will not hear him. There's a blessing in that, I assure you."

"I know you went back to that Brothel," Alptraum comments with a sniff to Mortimer. The Frogmilker, Alptraum nods, noting, "Good. I really have no desire to hear him talk about how cute I am." There's a hint of nervousness in the Eeee's voice, though. Shaking out his right hand a few times he approaches the first hog. "This will require a significant amount of life energy to do … so that is where these come in," he explains as he crouches down before the first. "Tell me when he is observing and I will begin."

"One never knows when death will strike – usually where you least expect it," Mortimer explains to Alptraum. His head rolls around so that he eyes Frogmilker with one pink orb. "He – or she? – thinks you're, eh? Bats." He shakes his head again.

"Very well." The Frogmilker sinks onto a nearby stone bench and rests her cane against it. Then she closes her eyes for a minute, appearing to meditate. Anger, determination, and pain flicker across her features in rapid succession but at last, she opens them again. "You may proceed. He is watching."

"Well, don't be too disturbed by this … " Alptraum comments and reaches out, placing his chitinous right hand against the shoulder of the hog before him. He closes his eyes and breathes in slowly and deeply. As he exhales a oily looking blackness seems to seep out from his right hand. It spreads across the hog, engulfing it in darkness and silencing any squeals of protest in its wake. All the muscles in his right arm tense up and the eye-like white orb embedded in the back of his hand flares bright.

The mage doesn't appear to be frightened or disgusted by what she's seeing; on the contrary, she's watching what's happening very closely. On occasion she blinks and her lip curls, but Alptraum assumes that is Georgi's presence making itself known to her.

Mortimer pulls his hood a bit farther over his face when Alptraum begins, mumbling something about 'pig guts,' 'waste of food,' and 'explosion's.

The shadow-outline of the hog shudders and starts constricting in on itself. The smaller the shadow-hog gets the brighter the orb glows. After several minutes the Eeee can hold a small shadowy-outline of the former hog in the palm of that hand. His fingers close around it and it simply ceases to be. Two hogs remain. As the Eeee stands he starts shaking out his right hand again. "You have no idea how odd doing that feels. I can't even describe it adequately," the Eeee comments. "Now, Mortimer, I will need the gourd containing the … subject of this little job."

After rumaging through his robes, Mortimer hands the gourd to his foot, which in turn hands it off to Alptraum. Apparently, he's comfortable now and doesn't want to move much.

"You are lazy, Reaper. We will work on that," Alptraum comments with a grunt as he accepts the gourd from the Korv. He taps on it a few times with his claws, commenting, "Wakeywakey. Time to come out for a bit so I can model your new body and transfer you. Now, this won't hurt a bit, just imagine being born again and you should be able to fit through the neck of the gourd just fine." And again, the Eeee closes his eyes and concentrates, lips twitching now and then as if speaking; an expression any practiced mage knows well … the slow working of a spell.

The Frogmilker's eyebrows raise at this but she says nothing. She didn't know Alptraum was being taught magic – but then again, she really knows very little about him at all.

Mortimer's head tilts. He clears his throat and says, "I smell magic," followed by a glance back at Alptraum, after which he says, "Oh, it's just you. I- Hey! No slacking off over there!" he shakes his scythe at his shadow servant, who had adopted a stance similar to his lounging one.

A wisp of vapor wafts from the opening of the gourd, slowly thickening and filling out into a miniature head and torso.

Alptraum merely continues his muttering. If he even notices the commentary of the Korv or the odd look from the Skeek, well, he makes no note of it.

Two blue sparks appear in the apparition now, where the eyes might be, as it continues to take on a more recognizably human form.

Ah yes, the lovely boredom that comes with working any magic above cantrips. Slow, steady, and intent concentration remains in Alptraum's face. Even his normally active ears have stilled and remain tilted forward towards the appearing shape.

Slowly, Mortimer's head slides down his arm, to tuck under his wing. He's still standing, at least.

The spirit continues to become more defined, appearing as a middle-aged human man with dark hair. He fades away below the waist, and has a glowing cord around his neck that leads back into the gourd.

Alptraum lets out a long breath, then his eyes open. "Are you still willing to keep to the deal? An offer of your life's wealth in exchange for a new body?" the Eeee asks. He also casts a dirty glance to the sleeping reaper.

"Yesss," the spirit whispers, and then crosses its heart with a translucent hand.

"Good. Give me the specifics of how you wish your new body. I can guess from how you appear now, of course. But you may wish to appear different so that you are not so easily identified," Alptraum comments. He then looks over the spirit's shoulder and calls out to Mortimer, "And you, bird, wake up."

"I must look the same as I did in life," the spirit says. "Otherwise I will not be recognized, and my business will fail. Isss that possible?"

"Huh wha-" Mortimer flaps a wing and straightens, then glances back at Alptraum and clicks his beak. "Ah. Oh. What is it now? Is the spirit asking for large boobies?"

"I have to know exactly how you looked, then. How tall, what weight?" the Eeee inquires.

The spirit strains a moment to appear at its full height. "Five-foot-eight," it whispers. "160 Standard Pounds."

Over on the stone bench, one of the mage's ears twitches in Mortimer's direction. She rolls her eyes heavenward for a moment.

Not hearing any mention of large boobies or a request therefore, Mortimer settles his head back on his arm.

"He's obsessed with breasts because his kind doesn't have them," Alptraum comments to the mage, then returns full attention to the spirit. "That is close to the hog's weight. That should make it somewhat simpler, as it is just … movement of what already exists. Reaper, come hold this gourd. I must now work on the body."

"It was merely an inquiry. I expected greedy spirits to want more for themselves. Fit bodies, good health, large breasts … " He shuffles over and takes the gourd, shifting his scythe to his off hand. "Ahh, large breasts … "

"I don't see the desire. Eeee women have perfect bodies. Others should aspire to such," Alptraum comments as he rolls his eyes. He takes another minute to look over the spirit, trying to get a good view of the head from all angles.

"You don't care because you already have one," the reaper points out to Alptraum.

"I don't have breasts," Alptraum points out. Shaking his head he walks over to the second hog and crouches down. "Okay … this may take some time. I hope none of you had any necessary appointments," the Eeee says as he places his hand upon the hog.

"Hard to tell with Eeee," is all the bird says.

Much like before, the inky darkness flows out to cover the hog, silencing and immobilizing it. Alptraum takes several deep breaths and once again closes his eyes. The shadow-hog ripples … and the work begins. Minutes pass and eventually those resent can see changes. The hog-shadow lengthens slowly while its side draw in. Its fore and hind limbs also start to carefully stretch out. The changes are maybe an inch a minute, but no more than that. after near an hour the shadow-shape is roughly the height described. Alptraum, though, has his brow furrowed with an amazing intensity. This is probably good because … the fur of his right arm has started to go gray. It began with a lightening of where fur met chitin, but has slowly crawled up his forearm as the shadow-hog began to take on a more human shape.

The mage's eyes settle on the Eeee's right forearm and her hands tighten against one another where they are folded in her lap, but beyond this, she does not react. Apparently, she does not wish to break Alptraum's concentration.

The spirit also gives the black shape its full attention.

The more the shadow twists and shifts, the more the gray fur progresses. It's past his elbow now and quickly approaching his shoulder. Fingers stretch out in the shadow before him from the newly formed arms … and finally the pig-head begins to reshape, shrinking down and becoming more alien … more human.

Mortimer leans into look at the graying, and remarks, "Good choice, though white is better," he offers.

A good three hours pass as the slow 'shaping' progresses. Eventually, the tired looking Eeee withdraws the shadow. On the ground before him is a very pink and naked looking human with dark hair. The facial resemblance is remarkably close to the spirit hovering above the gourd. He raises his now completely gray arm (and half his shoulder and chest), waving Mortimer over. "Bring the spirit," he says tiredly.

At last, the Frogmilker speaks to Alptraum. "Young man, are you all right?" Her voice is tight and tense, and her eyes are still fixed on his right arm.

"I'll be fine. This is just … tiring. The third hog will help me recover," Alptraum comments and waves his left hand dismissively.

"Yep," says Mortimer. He waddles on over and hands over the spirit, placing a pink taloned hand on Alptraum's shoulder. "On the plus side, they say gray hairs give character."

"They lie," Alptraum remarks as he takes the gourd. "Now, spirit, you must allow me to detach and reattach you. I could do it by force, but it would be dangerous," he explains as he curls his fingers around the 'tube' connecting the spirit to the gourd.

"For your sake, I hope so," the mage replies. "I will, however, do what I can for you if it does not."

"What must I do?" the spirit whispers, raising a hand to the cord around its neck.

"And I'm here to do what I can for you if ut doesn't and she fails," the Reaper adds in a positive tne.

"Just do not resist as I do," Alptraum says as his fingers close. There is an eerie darkening of the tube where he touches. With careful movement he slowly pulls upward. The tube stretches … then snaps as it reaches its limit. Quickly, he moves the 'free' spirit to the inert human body. In a rather quick and unusually violent movement, he grips it with both hands and shoves it into the body. The Eee hunches forward, grunting as he fights back a rather pained expression on his face. "Now, just," he hisses out through gritted teeth. The Eee's entire body tenses up and all around him the ghastly spectre of the Barsunala forms, engulfing the bat in its deathly visage. Light flows around the body and the air in the immediate area grows cold.

Mortimer seems more animated now that the spirit has been removed and Alptraum has changed. He pokes the now-filled human body with the butt of his scythe and, for good measure, also pokes Alptraum a few times as well. "Don't put it in backwards, I don't want to see him dying and heading to the beforelife," he remarks.

The newly human body staggers and wobbles as if drunk, before the hands start to feel about its face. "I… " it mumbles, trying to get the tongue working. "I am… alive?"

The life mage immediately reacts to the appearance of Alptraum's Barsunala form. She actually jerks to her feet without the use of her cane and sucks in a breath between her teeth. To her credit, however, she does not move from the spot. "Nothing about this feels right," she mutters, even more tense than before.

"It's a bit too much like necromancy for my tastes," the reaper remarks, leaning back, "but what must be done, must be done. We, after all, serve life through death."

the cold grows greater around the Eeee and the body. So much so that a slight layer of ice forms on the surface of a small pool of water near the Eee. As the human begins to move, Alptraum continues to hold onto him … and then the ghast of the Barsunala that holds him dissipates in a spray of shadow. Alptraum wobbles and falls back onto the ground with a thud. Not only is his breathing shallow, but his right arm has gone from gray fur to a patchy mess of gray fur and withered skin. The arm, nearly to his shoulder, has shrunken in, looking disturbing old and almost decayed. "Nng," the Eeee murmurs and his hand scrapes a bit on the ground, trying to grab onto the third hog's leg.

The Frogmilker limps forward and drops to her knees beside the Eeee. She helps him to sit up, so he can reach out for the hog more easily.

"I feel… good!" the freshly-minted human says, flexing his hands and limbs, and not too concerned at the moment about being naked. "Now I can defend my business from those murderous scoundrels!"

Mortimer steps forward as well, but pauses when the Frogmilker passes him. Instead, he glances at the excited non-corpse and says, "Use your life wisely. I will be waiting when it's over – and there won't be another chance."

"A little more draining than I expected," Alptraum mutters through dried lips. His only concern is to wrap his hand around the leg of the hog … and the Eee goes limp. The shadowy mass once more slides from his hand for the third, and final, time today. Gritting his teeth, the Eee makes the shadow draw in on itself. As the hog shrinks, Alptraum's own condition improves. The arm begins to fill back out, the fur regrow, and the gray slowly flow back to its usual black.

"It reminds me of a zombie with a straw I once met," the Reaper whispers to himself at Alptraum's 'feeding.'

"I just need some clothes, and once we go to my first stash I'll have money to get back where I need to be, and you can have the rest," the human says, and then notices the Frogmilker and belatedly covers himself with his hands. "I beg your pardon, madam."

The mage continues to support Alptraum while he feeds, her own lips pressed into a thin line. It's not hard to tell what she's thinking; she doesn't approve of what he's done, even though his arm is going back to its original condition. She looks at the naked 'man' when he speaks to her and says briefly, "No offense taken."

"I'm a bit offended," Mortimer remarks, clicking his beak.

Alptraum's eyes crack open when the hog is finally gone. "The same can be done for you, Gregori," the Eeee comments in a tired tone, "If you are willing to release your hold on her briefly, it can be transferred. It should also be obvious that I could not harm you in the slightest while doing it." There he pauses, then takes several deep breaths, finishing with, "Consider it. I would not be able to for at least a week … so you have time. It is a win for both of you. Surely you would like to have yourself back over an injured mage."

"Who is he talking to?" the human asks Mort.

"Probably just hallucinating," Mortimer answers, twirling a taloned finger to the side of his head.

The Eeee can feel the Frogmilker's hands tighten on his shoulders as she 'listens' to Georgi's response. At last, she relays, "He believes you must think him an idiot. He says you will probably just imprison whatever form you put his spirit within… of course, he added a few other choice words for flavor." Her lip curls again.

"Do I look like I could imprison anyone right now? He's being an idiot. He can dictate the terms, down to the location. My goal is to free you. I could care less what happens to him," Alptraum hisses tiredly.

"I think he's enjoying being trapped in an older woman's body – wouldn't be the first time I've encountered this. Possession Syndrome. The longer a spirit holds a body, the more that body holds a spirit. Eventually, they start thinking like it too. I'm sure you've all heard the saying that the body drives the mind," remarks Reaper Mortimer.

The human just sits down at this point, and looks at the Frogmilker. "So, you're possessed then?" he asks the woman.

Alptraum knows something has changed when the Skeek gasps and her fingers shake against his fur. "You would threaten your own life for a woman you barely know, boy?" the mage asks him, her voice dropping an octave with the first word. "Touching. Unbelievable, but touching. Still… I will think about it."

"You do not know me. I nearly died trying to help the Countess. I nearly died saving Phlagaea's life," Alptraum rasps. "Unlike you, I care about others. Unlike you, I will risk to save others. Consider it. We will talk later." The Eeee then lets his eyes close and for the moment, rests.

"He's very altruistic. I figure I'll be burying him within a year," Mortimer offers, helpfully.

"It cost me a pretty penny, and I see why now," the human comments.

Alptraum hears the mage bark a vicious laugh, but only once before she slumps against his back, breathing raggedly. After a few long minutes of silence, she finally raises her head to the Korv. "You may well be right, Reaper." Then the Eeee can feel her staring at him. "I don't like this, Alptraum," she says softly, using his first name for once. "You put yourself at too much risk. And the combination of magicks you use are… unnatural. Which is putting it mildly."

"Some situations require creative solutions. You cannot be helped with traditional means," the Eeee comments, cracking one eye open. "Answers are not needed today. Just … think about it. It's a chance for you to live again. Both of you."

"And if you decide on the alternative, come see me," the Reaper offers, his free hand reaching up to tap the glistening blade of his scythe.

"Oh put that away," Alptraum grumbles.

"And next time, I'm sure he'll remember to bring clothing along," the human notes, with a grin.

Mortimer glances at his scythe and shrugs. "It never really goes away. I've been wanting a folding one, to put near my heart – but that's a pipe dream," he says with a wistful sigh.

The Frogmilker sighs, too, and lowers the Eeee gently to the ground so he may sleep in the warmth of the sun, if he wishes. "Perhaps your estimation should be altered," she says to Mortimer. "At this rate, Herr Reisender will not last a month." Quirking an eyebrow at Alptraum again, she asks, "Do you wish me to find you another animal to feed on? Would that help?"

"I'll be fine," Alptraum comments and tiredly waves one of his hands.

"I'd give him a month or more. He's tougher than he looks – like girly old jerky," the Reaper replies.

"As you wish." Then the mage pulls off her robe to reveal her shirt and trousers underneath, and hands it to the new 'human.' "Use this until you find more suitable clothes. Good day to you all." With that, the Skeek retrieves her cane and goes limping back towards the castle.

"Thank you, madam," the man says, and bows after he's wrapped himself up.

After the Frogmilker is out of sight, the human turns to Mort and asks, "Do you think they bought it?" in a somewhat feminine voice.