Not too long ago, Alptraum finished finding the perfect little hidey-hole in the forest, and made pains to be sure he could easily find it again should he need to do so in a hurry (without, he hopes, tipping off anyone to its existence – but he's fairly sure he wasn't being observed). Now, he's back at his usual meditation spot … though the silence is broken by the lilting melodies of a lute drifting on the wind from the direction of the Memorial Trail.

Alptraum's silver eyes open slowly from his afternoon rest up on the branch of a tree. He's taken to trying to hang from the branch now and then, but today isn't one of those days. He yawns softly and his ears flick. "What the is that? A lute? Why would there be a lute out here? Wait, didn't Reynard play a lute," Alptraum says. "I forgot about him, sheesh." He unfurls his wings and hops down to the ground in a gentle glide and starts towards the trail. "Hello?" he calls out.

"… her fur a lovely shade of green; sweetest eyes you've ever seen; never did a damsel make bandages look so good! – " SPRANG "Oh! Don't kill me! I'm on the path! I'm ON THE PATH! Oh! It's you!" Sure enough, it's a fox all right – and much more obviously so than before. He's a short, rusty-furred vulpine, dressed in a mismatched, color-blind assortment of frilly and floppy, badly fitting attire that looks like he's desperately trying to parody the latest in Rephidimite poodle fashions, right down to a big floppy hat with an even bigger feather (is that from an eep?) tucked into the band. He sets down a battered lute with laurel patterns carved in curving strokes on each side of the body. "My hero! I can't thank you enough for releasing me from that dungeon! A thousand thanks – a MILLION!"

Alptraum grins and shrugs, coming closer and saying, "It was nothing, don't worry about it. Are you out here alone?" He glances around some and says, "And you are right, she does loo… " He then stops himself right there and ahems, "What brings you out here, anyway?"

"I had to thank you personally!" the fox says, hopping up from a pile of accumulated leaves he's been using as a cushion, and trying to shake twigs and burrs and leafy bits out of his tail. "I think that, to properly honor you, I should compose a ballad singing your praises! By what name would you wish to be gloried?"

Alptraum ughs and rubs the bridge of his nose. "I'm not sure. I'm called Alptraum, Nightmare, Barsunala, hey you, and things that are even unpleasant," Alptraum comments. "What do you know about me? That'll help me pick a name."

"You're the fellow with the white hair, the black fur and the silver eyes who is not a Yodhsunala, so that helped me narrow down the field quite a bit," the fox says happily. "Hmm. Alptraum. What rhymes with Alptraum? Alptraum. Tall bomb. All Mom. Gall nom … -de plume!"

And to that, Alptraum just cringes. "Uh, maybe we should pick a different name. And quite true, I'm not a Yodhsunala. I'm … er … well, that's hard to explain. I've also been called 'Traum, but not so much anymore."

"Of course," the fox adds, "if you sing anything loudly, swiftly and confusingly enough, you can make anything rhyme."

"As a musician, I'll dispute that!" Alptraum says quickly.

"A musician?" The fox grins broadly. "Why … we could play a duet!"

The fop fox dances a little jig. "Oh, this is so splendid! A musician, saved by another musician! Bards for bards! We all stick together!"

The fox quickly adds, "Like tar and feathers!"

Alptraum covers his eyes and groans. "Uh, a recorder and lute don't go together," he tries to argue, then makes a pained "ARGH!" at a sudden realization.

"Oh, pshaw! Anything goes together. You just need the right mood for it. I think I shall burst into song! Joy! Rapture!" The fox bounces around, and picks up his lute.

"This ought to be interesting," Alptraum mutters, looking forlorn. "Why couldn't it have been Phlagaea or Autumn-Storm?" He then takes in a breath and prepares for the onslaught.

The fox strums his lute, looking beatific, and skips around in a circle as he plays.

"What's that you say?"

"We can't play together?"

"A recorder and a lute,"

"They won't sound much better?"

"- Well you've got it all wronnnnng! C'mon – Sing along! It all goes together … like Tar and Feathers!"

"(CHORUS!)"

"TARRRRRR AND FEATHERS!"

"Lutes and flutes and Aleuts, they all go together!"

"TARRRRRR AND FEATHERS!"

"If it don't rhyme, just pay no mind, SING IT LOUD! That's better!"

"TARRRRRRRRRRRR! … and Feathers!"

"(SECOND VERSE!)"

"You don't like the sound -"

"Of cheerful cacophony?"

"You don't get around -"

"My im-pro-vis-i-ony?"

"Well you've got it maaaade! We'll shout 'cross the glade! It all goes together … like Tar and Feathers!"

"(CHORUS!)"

"TARRRRRR AND FEATHERS!"

"Drums and thrums, accordiums, they all go together!"

"TARRRRRR AND FEATHERS!"

"If it don't rhyme, I always find, JUST MAKE IT UP! That's better!"

"TARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!" (much strumming here)

"aaaaaaaaaand!" (more strumming, as the fox gets on one knee)

"FEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAA-THERS!" ("Ohhh yeahhhhhh!")

The fox gets up and bows several times. "Thank you! Thank you so very much! You've been a lovely audience! All one of you!"

"I understand what she meant now," Alptraum says with a smirk. "I'm amazed she didn't kill you."

"Out of jealousy!" the fox says, still grinning like an idiot. "Hmm. That's the pity, though, playing a recorder. You can't sing!"

"Jealousy, of that? And believe me, you don't want me singing," Alptraum says with a grin.

"Come now! Self-esteem – It's everything! Or so my dear besotted uncle told me. Poor fellow. Should have taken his own advice. It'd have done the world for him. Goodness knows, nothing else did." The fox wipes away a melodramatic tear.

Alptraum shifts his weight from foot to foot a few times, thinking. "Mind if I ask you something? I know you were within the dreams and such… How many of the goddesses did you meet?" he inquires.

"Oh! Oh yes. The dreams. Well … ah … I don't like to think about it all that much … but then, I suppose being on Mount Sunala right now, I can't exactly avoid it, now can I? Well, I suppose you could say I ran into all of them … though to greatly varying degrees. Most of them ignored me … until Inala suddenly found me out. I really have no idea why. I mean, they'd all ignored me up until then. Morpheus had me going about, passing these rhymes and riddles and clues to various folk running amok in the Dream Realm, helping them go on quests and such. It was all a very confusing puzzle, really," says the fox.

"Did you meet Sunala, then?" Alptraum asks next. "What was she like?"

"Er, well, she was … rather distant, really." The fox looks vaguely confused, as if searching for something, and unable to find it. "A bit different from the rest. I think it's because nobody visited her much. You see, dreamers visiting the goddesses made them more real, in a way. And if you're offended by any suggestion that the goddesses aren't real, well, take this all as some sort of allegory. I really don't wish to end up in a dungeon again."

"Besides," the fox says, "I have seen my share of beings who aren't called deities, but might as well be, from the things they can do, so it's all a matter of terminology, if you ask me."

"I'm not offended by it. It's just that some people believe Sunala is my mother," Alptraum says haltingly. "I'm not sure she exists either, to be honest." He runs his claws through his hair and looks upward, sighing.

"Well, if it's a matter of wondering whether Death exists, I'm quite certain she does. I mean, death and taxes – no avoiding either! But whether Death happens to be a pretty black Eeee with white hair, shredded wings and glow-in-the-dark eyes … well, that's a matter for taking up with someone more studied in religious matters, not little old me," the fox says, adjusting his hat.

"Avralie, but you talked to what appeared to be Sunala," Alptraum replies, looking frustrated. "Do have any idea what it's like not knowing what you are? It's – forget it. I'm glad you all right now. How was Phlagaea when you left? She doing okay?"

"Ooo!" exclaims the fox with a hearty nod. "I quite sympathize with not knowing what I am! Why, when I first came to Sinai, I was very confused. I'm an Exile, you see, and I came from a reality even more bewildering than this one. And before that, I'd been in stranger worlds besides. I've gotten around quite a bit, though here it seems that I'm condemned to merely bounce about places on the same planet … just a great many more places than the worlds I'd seen before, so I keep from being too bored. Oh. Phlagaea! Oh, she is doing just peachy – that is, for an Eeee who's greener than grass, smells like castor oil, and whose idea of a new wardrobe is a fresh set of bandages."

"She's also a pleasant person to be around. Well, at least she was when I was around her. I like her," Alptraum says and crouches down. "Hmm, so you're one of those Exiles? I've heard about your kind. I can't imagine going through that – getting dumped into an alien world."

"Oh? Well, I don't know if I'd call her pleasant, per se. Not quite as endearing as my lovely Gorphat. (sigh!) But I did gather that she's taken quite a shine to you. She must go for the tall, dark and in-the-image-of-Sunala type," the fox says, strumming on his lute idly. "And, oh yes, terrible ordeal. I was in denial, I think. I think I was just having a terrible time adjusting to a world where, well, I actually had to work to survive. You see, I was previously on a world where you couldn't swing a lute around your head without whacking a demi-god or a king or queen. In fact, I can barely recall that I ever ran into any peasants. Everyone was king of this or queen of that – or at the very least a knight. They could just wiggle their noses and move the moon about if they pleased. So it was hardly a trouble to convince someone to nose-wiggle up some grub in exchange for a song."

"In fact," the fox adds, "they were so nicely minded that they wouldn't even think of having me play a song for them in payment. Oh no! They'd send me to go play for one of their friends instead. Downright generous of them, and it was so fine to be able to have such recommendations – from kings and queens, no less! That's how I came up with my catchy introduction."

Alptraum looks away and rubs his neck. He grins semi-sheepishly and says, "A shine to me, eh? I was wondering about that." He then blinks and looks back to the fox, asking, "An introduction?"

"Ah yes! Here, let me play it for you again!" The fox hops up and strums his lute, then begins singing,

"Victor Reynard, Master Bard, Player to Kings and Queens!"

"Player of Lutes, Player of Flutes, Player of Many Things!"

Alptraum smirks. "Say, you've been around Babel a bit, haven't you? Ever meet another Eeee with eyes like mine?" he asks.

"Hmm. Oh, perhaps. Maybe not exactly like yours. More blue, perhaps," the fox suggests. "But never a black-furred Eeee with white hair and silvery eyes who also happens to be of the male persuasion. Not a one like that. That's why I had such an easy time going on your description."

"Oh well. There's no real color to my eyes, no blue. It's silvery gray," Alptraum says, then blinks. "Never a male with light eyes, black fur and white hair? That's interesting. Anyway, how come you became a bard?"

The fox says, "I simply couldn't find a calling in anything else!"He then smiles broadly. "Besides, I'm a natural in composition!"

Alptraum almost says something, then decides against it. "I became one so I wouldn't forget," he says.

"Ah! Yes, that's very good," the fox says. "A good ballad is one that will never be forgotten! And many a time have I been told by my audience that they will never, ever forget me."

"I'm not surprised," Alptraum says with a grin. "I was actually raised to be a performer. Used to do a flying show with my adoptive parents. Learned to play music to remember a song I recalled from my childhood. Turned out to be a prayer to Sunala."

The fox strums his lute a bit. "So, what are you doing with the Yodhsunala? Do you play music for your meals? Perhaps there's room for another bard here? Is the food good?"

"Oh, there?" Alptraum considers. "I'm there because, well, they're my only real family I suppose. I was an … unusual birth. I think they want to keep an eye on me, and I pay nothing. As for food – can't say. I don't eat up there."

The fox looks distinctly disappointed. "Oh. Well. Hmm. I suppose that unless I sprouted wings, dyed my fur black, bleached my mane white, and wore spectacles that I wouldn't have much of a chance. Tsk. Well, since all this Dream Realm debacle is over with, and I'm not in a dungeon, I suppose I could hop on an airship and continue my adventures elsewhere. I could follow you around and sing your praises, but I'm very fond of regular meals."

"Avralie, following me around wouldn't be a great idea. And I don't think the Yodhsunala would appreciate your music. I don't play up there either. Well, I will be for Zana soon, but other than that … " Alptraum replies with a nod. "I think your best bet is to head to a city with less turmoil."

"Tsk! Turmoil is hardly my problem!" the fox says, waving a paw at the suggestion. "Turmoil produces heroes – and occasionally an unattended food cart."

"You know what the difference between a hero and an idiot is?" Alptraum inquires.

"Of course! I even wrote a song about it!" the foppish fox says. "As the chorus goes… " He strums his lute, then starts singing, at a jaunty, bouncy pace:

"There's a … "

"Thin line 'tween bravery … "

"And then stupid-i-ty … "

"Most won't go acrossssss!"

"But then Michael Iron-head … "

"Smarter than a piece of lead … "

"He won't mind the cosssssst!"

Alptraum covers his eyes.

The fox frowns and furrows his brow. "You know … I've forgotten how the rest of it goes! Terrible, terrible. Such a shame."

"That is the idea, though. A hero is typically the one who lived," Alptraum says with a nod. "I've been called one before, but… I just do what my heart says at the time. I want to do something to help Babel, to help the people here. Not all of them are bad."

"Oh! Yes, that sounds terribly heroic!" The fox shuffles around on his perch of leaves to face the bat. "Following your heart, never minding all those pesky things like whether you'll survive the experience and all that. Ah! If only I were like that! That is, if I were invincible. If I were merely brave and not invincible, then I'd be dead, and that would not be nearly so much fun. So, given the choice, I'd far rather sing about someone else. And speaking of that … so, how are you going to save Babel? There are some who would wonder – why ever for?"

Alptraum smirks and says, "I'm supposed to be immortal, but that's nonsense." He then turns serious and says, "As for Babel, I'm not really sure. I don't even know that much about its people, but I think they need to believe in themselves again. Not in gods or heroes, but the people they see in a mirror. As for why? They're my people. I can't just turn my back on them. They matter to me. I've seen a kind side to people you wouldn't expect, like some Yodhsunala, Yodhgorphat Phlagaea, and so on. I've seen the innocence of the kids here and I have hope for them."

The fox nods at this. "So, in essence, you're saying, 'Just because a lot of really rotten things have happened to you, you've still got a city, and you should all band together and not be trying to stab each other in the back and loot what's left'?"

Alptraum blinks, then says, "That's exactly it. I mean, life isn't just about what you get. Sometimes you've got to look out for others, even if it does put you at risk."

"Oh!" The fox looks pleased. "You know, I don't think I've ever heard someone tell me 'That's exactly it.' How splendid!"

"But there are days where it seems impossible," Alptraum admits. "I'm just one person, after all."

"Oh! But, that's where word of mouth comes in! And before you know it, a few shows on the street corners, and soon you have everyone telling his buddy, 'C'mon, you've got to check out this fellow just once. Trust me, you won't believe it until you hear him!' And voila! An audience! Or a small business or a revolution or whatever it is you're trying to drum up."

Alptraum laughs and says, "I'm not looking to overthrow anything. My birth makes it even more complicated with how people see me. It's a razor's edge I walk. I've got to be careful." He then grins and says, "Though I have seemed to get a few people who like me. Never expected to be friends with a Yodhgorphat, that's for sure!"

"I can see it now – a new slogan for a happier, friendlier Yodhgorphat: 'Friendship – it's contagious!'" the fox chimes.

Alptraum groans, loudly, but quickly recovers. "Have you heard anything about the General, perhaps?" he inquires.

The fox seems happily oblivious. Then, suddenly, his smile fades. Did it occur to him a bit late? But then his expression changes to horror. "AIEEEEEEEE!" he shrieks, and runs away, up the hill!

There's a rustling noise in the bushes behind Alptraum.

Alptraum's ears wilt slightly. "Oh… ," Alptraum begins, slipping quickly into Sylvanian to utter a curse. He turns quickly and goes for his dagger.

Something shiny and chitinous and fangy pokes out of the bushes. It's the head of a grok, with a lolling blue tongue. It makes a happy raspy whine.

Alptraum blinks, then laughs. "Oh, don't tell me it's you again?" He relaxes and removes his hand from the hilt of his dagger. "I'm surprised you're still around," he comments. "But hey, can't be all bad. You can help dispose of my meals, eh?"

The grok creeps out of the bushes, and almost bounces up to Alptraum, it's so giddy. It makes a happy clacking noise. (At least, Alptraum has to assume it's a happy grok noise, given the context. It sure acts happy!)

Alptraum stretches and grins. "Speaking of which, I think I should grab a meal before heading back to the temple. So, shall we go hunt?" he asks, reaching out to pat the bizarre creature. "Besides, it'll give me a chance to try something. Since I somehow might have saved the life of someone by willing it, I wonder if I can will something to die. Figure trying it with something I'm going to kill anyway is safe enough. Plus, no one would be around to see." He heads back towards the forest and says, "Come on, then. We've got a bit of daylight left before I need to head up to the temple. I know a good place to hunt… "