What was originally going to be an overnight stay at the outpost has become unexpectedly extended to several days for Arkold and Alptraum. On their first night, Tulani met an old friend of her adoptive family – a Rhian barge-captain. After a few drinks, the Sphinx had been roped into coming along with him on the final leg of his route through the marshes, ostensibly to help break in his new, inexperienced scout – but really because of reports of Gallisian troops raiding merchants in the area. Promising to just be gone for a few days, the Sphynx's companions are left to their own devices for the time being.

And few those devices are. There just isn't that much to keep one entertained at the outpost. The farmers market is strictly farmer-oriented, with the odor of livestock the only thing covering the rotting-vegetation stench of the swamp itself, and the buyers and sellers suspicious of anyone they haven't seen from previous seasons. It doesn't help that Arkold is sometimes mistaken for a Gallee (since few Sylvanians ever encounter Jupani) and that Alptraum is the only Eeee in the compound.

But there is plenty of ale in the tavern, and the middle-aged Khatta woman playing the harpsichord isn't half-bad – she's all-bad, with a voice designed to instill the urge to throw boots.

Alptraum rubs his temples and stares at the mug of ale in front of him. "Fra, nasty stuff, but what else is there?" he mutters. "Maybe if I drink enough, her playing will become tolerable… I can certainly play better than her."

"This stinks," remarks Arkold. The middle aged wolf sits with his legs propped up on the table and a beer held loosely in a hand. "Makes me miss the canals of Abaddon. Did I ever tell you about those, bats? Eh, yeah I told you that one yesterday. Dagh's tail. Why don't you slay that poor beast she's strangling and put it out of its – and my – misery. And while you're at it why don't you sing something, eh bats?"

Even higher-pitched than the caterwauling of the hostess, an ultrasonic stream of Sylvanian epithets penetrates the thick door of the tavern to tickle Alptraum's ears.

"Believe it or not, I sing worse," Alptraum says with a wry grin. "I can play, but sing … no thanks." He pauses to take a swig, then comments, "Nope, she still stinks." He shakes his head, then pauses at hearing the scream, "Hold on, I just head something. Has to be Eeee." He gets up and heads toward the door, saying, "Come on, something's up." His ears cant, trying to locate the direction of the sound.

Arkold tips his mug to his muzzle and takes a swig before dropping his head back against the wall with an audible thunk. "What ever happened to the monsters of Sylvani anyway? I could go for a monster right now. Or Raneah. I miss he- huh?" The wolf sits up – perhaps a bit too quickly. "Something's goin' on? Don't kid a guy like that."

Given the heavy stone construction of the walls, and the thickness of the wooden door, the source would have to have been fairly close. Maybe even right outside.

Alptraum taps one of his ears and comments, "Remember, wolfie, I hear better that you. Come on, this could be interesting. In any event, it has to be better than this music, ugh." And with that, Alptraum opens the door and steps outside.

"Whatever you say bats." The wolf gets up and follows the bat out the door.

Outside, the source of the voice is obvious. A young Eeee woman with light-brown fur is clearly frustrated with the Rhian in somewhat beaten armor that she's talking to. If not her slightly sturdier-than-average build, her glowing red featureless eyes mark her as one of the Sylvanian vampire breed.

"Well well, what do we have here," Alptraum comments, eyeing the two. "Excuse me," he calls out, "Is there some sort of problem here?"

"Sorry Gunn, but my hands are tied here," the Rhian tells her, with a bit of exasperation. "I can't spare any of my men to go look into this, not with the chance of Gallisian troops in the area." The horse stops to look towards Alptraum and Arkold. "Eh, no trouble, mister."

"This jerk won't help my family!" the Eeee counters. The outburst also elicits a snort from the creature tied to a Dromodon hitch behind her – possibly the largest, woolliest swamp boar Alptraum has ever seen. It even has a saddle.

The wolf squints as the cloud-shrouded sunlight hits his eyes. "Did he say there's a war nearby? Need a mercenary? Master-of-arms? … anything?"

"Ah, mercenaries?" the Rhian asks, then without waiting for a reply, he tells the girl, "There you go, Gunn, maybe they'll go into the swamp with you," before clopping off towards the market.

"Then find someone else," Alptraum replies, then glances at Arkold with a grin. "My, ah, companion and I are, quite frankly, bored with this town. Both of us are seasoned travelers and may be able to assist."

"I'm more useful than bats, though," Arkold points out. "Unless you want him to music 'em to death."

The girl looks the pair over, then lets out a sigh. "Just you two? You don't look like much, to be honest," she says. "Are you cheap?"

"And I've lived in Sylvania most of my life and know the dangers and land," Alptraum retorts. "Ol' wolfie here could breathe on them and kill them, perhaps."

"I can do more than that. I'm a veteran of several companies and more than one planet," says the Jupani. As he mulls over the idea of being cheap (rubbing his muzzle with a hand as he does) he gives a shrug. "Eh," he replies half-heartedly, "I'm normally not cheap. But I'll make an exception since I ain't exactly busy 'ere."

"Well, I suppose you might do then," the Eeee says, then thrusts out her right hand. "I'm Gunn."

Alptraum extends a clawed hand and shakes hers, "Alptraum Bar Reisender, at your service. What's the problem?"

Arkold gives a startlingly elaborate bow considering how ill mannered (not to mention deep in his cups) he looks. "Arkold. At your service m'lady."

"My family and our livestock are being attacked," the girl says. "By vampires."

Alptraum raises an eyebrow and asks, "By vampires? The undead kind, or the general Sylvanian Eeee kind?"

"The undead kind, I think," Gunn says, pursing her lips slightly as she sketches a slight bow back to Arkold. "They're very… messy."

"Avralie. Any self-respecting Eeee knows how to properly eat," Alptraum replies with a nod. "Okay, do you have any evidence we can see? And please, tell us the full story."

"So much for the sucking through the two neat bites idea," remarks Arkold. He runs a hand through his golden hair and shrugs again. "Never fought with the undead before. Should be interestin'."

Alptraum glances at Arkold, "I have. Interesting could describe it. So could gross."

Arkold grins, saying, "Sounds like a good time. Lead on."

"Evidence?" Gunn asks in surprise. "It's all a bunch of rotting meat now," she explains, and points to the giant boar tied up nearby. "That's Hogarth, one of our hogs. We've lost four like him in the last two nights. We hear them start to squeal, and when we get down to the pens all we find are… are bits scattered about! But no blood. Not a drop."

Alptraum hmmms, saying, "That isn't necessarily vampires. There are worse things that suck blood. Much worse. Can I see the remains anyway?" He then says with a glance to Arkold, "And oh, bit of advice. Don't bite a zombie. They taste vile."

"You'll come out to the ranch then?" Gunn asks, perking up slightly while still managing to look dour. "You aren't just gonna try to rob me and dump me in the swamp, are you? I'm wise to that trick!"

The Jupani gives Alptraum an odd look at that. "I only bite the living ones. And then only when they ask nicely, heh." He winks before walking past the bat to follow Gunn – elbowing the Eeee jokingly as he goes.

Alptraum quirks a grin at Arkold, then nods to Gunn, "We're not going to rob you. Lead on. You can tell us on the way what you're willing to pay."

"Besides you don't look exactly worth the time to rob," jokes the Jupani. "What would we do with some hogs?" He waves the woman to lead on.

Gunn leads them to the docks, where she harnesses Hogarth to a 'swamp wagon' – a flat-bottomed boat with raised rails. Once she's perched cross-legged on the boar's saddle, she invites the two men onto the craft. "You like boar meat? We got that. And blood. And I've got some sisters too, if you're interested. But only if you get rid of the monsters."

"Go hog wild?" Alptraum suggests jokingly. "As for me, er, if that's all, ah… do you want any of that, Arkold?"

Alptraum climbs carefully into the craft. He wraps his toe-claws around one of the boat fame supports and sits down.

"Sisters huh?" The wolf takes a seat leans back. "Hm."

"And loot," Gunn throws in quickly. "Vampires and ghouls always have loot! From their victims, right?"

Alptraum leans over to Arkold and whispers in his ear, "They're likely vampiric, like Gunn here… "

The wolf grins lopsidedly and shrugs. "You obviously haven't seen the rest of the company I keep. I like to have an open mind. Helps when you travel as much as I do," he says.

Alptraum nods and shrugs. He whispers, "Just thought you should be aware, is all. Not all have eyes like that, mind you. But that's the usual mark."

"Must make it easy to find your keys in the dark," Arkold considers aloud.

Alptraum elbows Arkold.

"We've got leather too," Gunn offers. "Can make you some clothes and stuff. And herbs to make you taste sour to leeches." She gives Hogarth a prod, setting the boar trotting into the swamp before her saviors can change their minds.

The wolf laughs quietly. "Oof, hey, show some respect for your elders."

"So, is it just yourself and your sisters living out there?" Alptraum asks Gunn.

Once the water is deep enough for Hogarth to start swimming, Gunn turns around on the saddle to face her passengers. "I've got three brothers, and Mom, and the Grands, and Uncle Beeb and his wife and my cousins… " she answers.

Alptraum grins half-heartedly and comments, "I hope your relatives are nicer than mine."

It doesn't take long for Bog Bend to vanish into the mists behind them, especially once they reach the trees. Giants with cage-like roots and drooping branches, they block out most of the sunlight to create a gloomy twilight in the swamp.

"Or mine," puts in the wolf.

"They're the best people in the world," Gunn claims. "We haven't eaten anybody in generations! Not everyone out here can say that with a straight face you know."

Alptraum smiles and looks around. "I forgot how beautiful Sylvania is," he comments to Arkold. He then turns and looks at Gunn oddly. "How, ah, reassuring… " he says with a weak, fangy, smile.

Several somethings slither away from the wake created by the swimming boar, and a creature sounding like a Creen with a frog in its throat complains loudly from a tree.

"My family never ate anyone," remarks Arkold as he shares a look at the Sylvanian lands, " … sold them into debt, sure, but never actually ate them."

"Why, just this winter, I heard that the family over in Grunge ate a bunch of folks," Gunn chatters on, happy to talk gossip. "But I also heard they was all poodles, so they don't really count. Everyone knows it's okay to eat foreigners. It's like a public service. You aren't from Sylvania, are you Mr. Arkold?"

"You shouldn't eat anyone," Alptraum says, eyes slightly narrow. "Just because you have to digest blood, doesn't mean you should go after a sentient. There are plenty of wild creatures to feed from."

"Er." The wolf sits up and idly pats around to make sure his daggers are still with him. "Why, uh, no. But I'm not exactly, er, good for you if you be gettin' my meanin' miss. And I'm on the Sylvanian side of things."

"Anyone that comes into Sylvania and acts like they own the place ain't 'xactly intelligent now, are they?" Gunn counters to Alptraum. "You can't be against eating in self-defense, can you? You aren't even a vampire, afterall."

Alptraum doesn't answer that. He just looks at Gunn for a moment, then off into the swamps.

The mist and trees grow thicker, so that Hogarth has to wind his way between the giant standing roots more often. The sounds of the swamp are somewhat soothing though, aside from the occasional wail or splash. "We're almost there," Gunn reports happily.

"Well," begins Arkold as he rubs his neck nervously, " … the way it's been told to me is that Sylvani ain't exactly much of a country anymore. At least the major powers don't think so, so, uh, they aren't exactly going to stop anyone from takin' it. An' I've heard enough about raiders from Sylvani to see why some might not like it. The Gallee depend on Rephidim's blessin', an' the blessings of their neighbors. If Sylvani was in better shape maybe something could be done politically to end the war. Eh, that or fighting. But I wouldn't bank on that. An' before you two glare at me, remember I'm here to help."

Finally, Alptraum says as he looks into the distance, "If you feed on sentients, you help feed the rumors about horrible vampires and only help those who want to invade by letting them claim to 'rid' the country of monsters." He then looks at Arkold and says, "No offense taken. I've been over a chunk of Sylvania. You're right about it's condition."

The ranch can be heard before it's seen, as it's difficult to mask the sounds of dozens of grunting and squealing boars. "I ain't never seen a politician," Gunn replies. "My Grandpa says they're some sort of ambulatory compost heaps that suck in anyone who gets too close to them. And I don't mind if the monster vampires get wiped out. That's why I brought you here!"

Alptraum laughs quietly. "Realize, to Gallee, you are a monster too. And they'll use the actions of Eeee that have fed on them as evidence," he says as he looks toward the sounds.

Arkold gives Alptraum an approving nod. "Bats has a point there. You don' want to give outsiders an' excuse to destroy you. Think about it, eh? Who wants to be bordered by a lawless land of cannibals? If Sylvani had a real military you could ignore outsider opinions but, eh, you don't. So you need to think on it. Bein' stubborn is just going to see Sylvani destroyed." He glances at Alptraum and adds, "I've been thinkin' what we could do, y'see. Politics as well as other venues."

An island appears through the mist, studded with shapes that might be buildings. The whole thing is literally overshadowed by a huge tree growing from the center. "What? I'm not a monster! I'm cute! Everyone says so!" Gunn argues. "Why would anyone want to conquer our swamp anyway? It's a swamp! They should just leave us alone."

"No, you're not a monster. But trust me, in other places you would be considered one," Alptraum says and shakes his head.

Hogarth drags the boat halfway up onto the muddy shore before squealing in complaint, which prompts Gunn to bite off her reply so that she can unhitch the boar. "Anyway, here we are. Welcome to the Smith Ranch!"

Alptraum stands up carefully. "All right. Do you want to introduce us, or just go to the scene?" he asks.

Arkold braces himself as he stands up. "Gloomy place, eh?" He takes a moment to regard the ranch and smiles, adding, "But ain't it all?"

A large hairy sow trots nearby, trailing a group of grunting hoglets. "Yeah, you'd better come to the house I think," Gunn says. "The monsters won't come until night, and if you stay down here the boars might try to eat you." She heads off towards the central tree, keeping to the ground for Arkold's sake.

Alptraum laughs, muttering, "Can't sleep, boars might eat me… " He flicks his wings tightly against his back and follows Gunn, ears flicking and tracking the various sounds.

"Can't have that," remarks the wolf as he follows along. He considers just how many winged people he's been keeping company with lately. "Wings … flippers … I guess walkin' is goin' out of style," he murmurs.

It's not clear what keeps the boars from simply swimming away from the island, since there aren't any fences or pens. The few structures they pass are little more than lean-tos that the sows claim for their broods. Gunn leads them to the base of the tree, where there is a handy ladder affixed to the trunk. "Can you climb, Mr. Arkold?" she asks. "We've got a crane if you need to be hauled up."

"I'm in great shape. Don't you worry about me," Arkold answers. He regards the ladder for a brief moment before he begins on his way up. "Why I ran from the station to Kurai castle. I've swum deep below the oceans of Abaddon, I … " His voice trails off as he ascends ever upward.

Alptraum snaps his wings wide and kicks off the ground. With a few flaps of his wings, he's heading upward.

"You sure talk a lot," Gunn observes, and leads the way up the ladder. It's not a trivial climb, going far up into the canopy of the tree to a wooden platform. Rope bridges run from the deck to several other platforms and structures built onto the heavy branches, and conveniently lit by lamps.

"This is actually a neat place," Alptraum comments as he wings his way upward towards the platform.

"It's … a lot … higher than … it looks," pants the Jupani as he makes his way upward. His sword rattles with every rung he ascends.

"It's dry too," Gunn says proudly, and leads the way across one of the bridges to a large square structure with smoke wafting up from a chimney. She opens the door and announces, "I got 'em! Real monster-slayers!" before marching right on inside.

Alptraum lands on the platform, then shakes his head. "This lady is, ah, yow," he mutters. He taps his toeclaws on the platform and says, "Come on, Arkold… You really need wings, you know that?"

When Arkold finally reaches the top rung he drops his head down to rest on the deck with his ears canted back and his tongue hanging out as he pants. "I think I'm gettin old," he breathes in mock-surprise as he rests a moment. "Wings. Yes. Maybe we'll- … we'll find some. Ah." And with a grunt he pulls himself up all the way and nods for Alptraum to head in.

"Oh sure, send me in first," Alptraum mutters, then heads over and through the doorway.

"They'll b- … be so glad to see a real bat like yourself an- … and not some old wolf." The wolf takes a moment to dust himself off – and rest a bit more – before following Alptraum inside.

As a rule, vampire Eeee don't smile in greeting. Instead, Alptraum and Arkold are treated to several glowing stares. Most are red, but one is orange and two are yellow. The yellow eyes belong to the two young boys hanging from the rafters, and the orange pair size up Alptraum with a predatory glint – belonging to one of Gunn's older sisters. The room itself is not opulent, but definitely more comfortable than that of a typical farmhouse. It is warm and dry, thanks to a stone fireplace, and the floor is covered in wooly boar skins, as are the cushions and other pieces of furniture. An elderly Eeee with grayed fur and drooping ears sits on a large pillow near the fire, next to a woman close to Arkold's own age.

Alptraum smiles fangily and waves. "Ah, hello. Gunn mentioned she had a large family. I hope we aren't disturbing you," he says nervously.

"These aren't guards from the outpost, Gunn," the elder bat says reprovingly to the girl.

Arkold smiles too, having no worry about hiding his sizeable canines. He also cocks his head to the side as he looks at the upside down children. "'Ey there," he offers in way of greeting.

"They wouldn't come!" Gunn complains. "These two have fought monsters before though!"

"We're better than the guards," Alptraum says quickly. "Both of us have experience in dealing with monsters, right."

"Don't argue, you two," the older woman chides, and stands up to greet the two strangers. "Welcome to our home, gentlemen. Please forgive my father's manners, but we so seldom have guests here. My name is Annabelle Smith," she says, and curtseys.

Alptraum bows slightly. "Alptraum Bar Reisender," he replies. "We hope we can be of service to you. My friend here is Arkold, and is an accomplished soldier. I'm a hunter and a scout."

Arkold seems to give up trying to figure out how the Eeee can manage to hang upside down and turns to bow to the older woman. "Arkold. Pleased to be at your service, ma'am."

Alptraum then quirks a grin, and adds, "And a musician, but that's not helpful in this case."

"I do hope you can help us then," the mother Eeee says, finally smiling in a friendly, if fangy, way. "You've met Gunn, of course, and this is my father Garret," she says, introducing the seated Eeee, who just nods and grunts in reply before going back to puffing away on an ornately carved ivory pipe. "And this young woman is Lacrimosa, my oldest daughter," Annabelle goes on, indicating the orange-eyed female. "She's also single," the mother whispers to Alptraum.

Arkold helps out by nudging Alptraum on.

"These two idiots are my brothers," Gunn chimes in, tugging on the ears of the hanging bats until they lose their grip and fall to the floor. "Arsenal and Suntz."

Alptraum swallows, getting a bad vibe from that comment. "Pleasure to meet all of you, Garret, Lacrimosa," Alptraum tells the group. "What information can you provide about the creatures attacking your livestock?"

"Mommm! She's picking on us again!" the boys complain, and Annabelle quickly assigns them chores and sends them out. "Well, I'm not sure if Gunn has told you already, but we've had several of our boars killed in the past few nights, in ways that are quite disturbing. The attackers never leave a trace of themselves, not even a footprint," she explains.

Alptraum hmms, rubbing his chin. "No marks at all? Nothing like a spike driven into the ground, then pulled out, perhaps?" he asks.

"Vampyres," Garret mutters. "Nothing else can do that… drain a grown boar and tear it up like it was paper."

"Well, blood spiders can," Alptraum says with a glance to Garret.

"A spike?" Annabelle asks, looking thoughtful. "That would just leave a hole in the ground, would it not? The soil here is very soft and moist, so I don't imagine a mark like that would last long."

"Don't look at me. He's the undead-slayer. Most of what I've dealt with lived in some fashion or another," inserts Arkold. He takes a step towards the nearby wall and turns to lean against it. "I'm still willin' to give it a go though."

"Bloodwhatsits?" the old man asks, looking to Alptraum now. Lacrimosa makes him scoot over a bit, so that she can set a kettle over the fire to boil water for tea. "Summat that drains a critter of blood and tears it up is a vampyre, whatever else it be called."

"Well, what I call a blood spider is a rather horrific creature that feeds on the blood of the living. It's some sort of necromancy summoning, and nasty. I had a tangle with one up in Esthershire, I think was the name, some time back. Servant of a necromancer went nuts, changed himself, and killed a bunch of people. Myself and three others took it down," Alptraum explains.

Alptraum hmms, then says, "Correction, two others."

Alptraum flicks his eyes over to Lacrimosa for a moment, then looks back to the old bat.

"Necromancy!" Annabelle gasps. "Surely not here, after all these years! This used to be rich farmland before the Necromancers fought here, generations ago."

"So how do you kill these spider ghouls?" Garret asks pointedly, ignoring his daughter's distress.

The wolf listens with his ears perked. "I wonder if we could set up some kind of trap maybe. Use a hog as bait, nets if you 'em, maybe one of those lean-twos. Are they bright ba-" the wolf glances at the many bats gathered here and quickly corrects his nickname, " … Alp?"

"Well, you have to cut off the talisman around their necks for one. For two, clean water seemed to burn it. I lured it into a river, heh," Alptraum says and flicks his wings. "It was an experience to fly that close to the thing, let me tell you."

"That'll be a memory you can tell your kids," remarks Arkold with a grin.

"We're surrounded by water though," Lacrimosa points out, somewhat shyly. "I mean… there weren't any signs of boats landing."

Arkold shakes his head. "Does that even count as clean water?"

Alptraum says, "Necromancer tainted water? Eeeehhh, maybe. I'm not even sure that's it," Alptraum says."

"We got boiled water," Garret says instead. "You want buckets?"

Alptraum says, "Well, first we should find out if that's what it is… "

Alptraum shrugs, "I'm willing to go down there and wait. Perhaps I can identify it. I can always fly away if it gets dangerous."

"We can try incorporating the boiled water in to a trap. Couldn't hurt. Though I'd want something more substantial along with it. Nets, spikes – something to keep it down for a while," says the wolf. "We know they go after the hogs. So we know where they're goin'. Question is if they're sentient or not. We could set up with crossbows in the tree, too."

Alptraum says, "The one I ran into was intelligent."

"Traps I understand," Garret says, smiling grimly. "You brought any of that stuff? Spikes and nets and crossbows, I mean?"

"May have to use what we have around here," replies the lupine. "I can use a few chitin daggers for spikes. Nets I figured you'd have. Dead wood can be used for some of it."

"Just so. We can cut some spikes," Alptraum agrees.

"Lots of dead wood," Garret says. "No nets or bows though. Only one got broke when Beeb had his 'accident' last season."

Alptraum says, "Accident?"

Annabelle turns away to help Lacrimosa with the tea, and Garret goes quiet, until finally Gunn says, "He was drinking and taking potshots at empty bottles, but he fell asleep and a boar sat on the crossbow when it stopped by to eat Uncle Beeb's toes."

The wolf bites his lip, then asks, "Have spare sail maybe?"

Alptraum ohs, "Uh, must happen all the time."

"He can't hardly sleep well without being in his cups now, 'cuz he can't hang proper," Gunn explains. "Sail? You mean, cloth?"

Alptraum's eyes flick back to Lacrimosa briefly. "Hang properly? Sleeping's easy to do hanging or laying, really," Alptraum says and looks back to Gunn.

"Cloth'll do if you can spare it. Expect it to be destroyed, though. Might make for a good cover on a pit trap. Huh. Maybe a pit trap filled with clean water or spikes if we can manage either without the ground water seeping in. Though enough murk is its own trap," considers Arkold.

"Yeah, but he snores when he sleeps laying down, and Aunt Gitch wallops him then," Gunn notes, then is told to hush by her mother as Annabelle and Lacrimosa offer cups of tea to Arkold and Alptraum, respectively.

"We got quicksand," Garret says. "Round the south end. Got it roped off so the hogs don't stumble into it."

Alptraum takes the cup and smiles to Lacrimosa, "Thank you." He then asks the others, "Do the attacks seem to occur around a specific spot? A pit works best if there's a known route it travels."

"Hard to say, really," Garret says, and puffs on his pipe for a moment. "The hogs run all over the place, and the monsters don't leave tracks. The ones they attack get spread out over a pretty large area, too."

Arkold accepts the cup and takes to sipping now and again. "Quicksand'll do. Maybe we can use it and a trap of our own if the creatures are smart enough to go around it. Can't go one way so they go the other – and get it. Don't expect we'll be able to make more than two traps though. Should be enough. Alp and I can hide somewhere nearby," explains the wolf. "Also I'd suggest we try and round the hogs up to a single area and keep them there. Maybe we could use the rope from the quicksand pit."

"I can help there," Gunn says. "Nobody wrangles hogs like me! And I can show you the quicksand too."

"Ah, do you have shovels?" Alptraum asks.

"Can't run a pig farm without shovels, lad," Garret laughs.

Alptraum shrugs and grins, "This is a swamp. You might just let the muck sink."

"Great," says Arkold as he pushes off the wall. "Mind if I use the crane to slide down? I don't think I want to make that climb again with digging work and trap making ahead of me."

"Arkold, why don't we wait till morning to start on the trap? I can scout it tonight and try to get a visual of it, then we can spend the rest of the day tomorrow setting up to trap it," Alptraum suggests.

"Of course," Annabelle says. "You can't be expected to fight monsters unprepared, after all. Lacrimosa will make up a room for you to spend the night in."

"Well I'm willin' if good farmer Garret is willin' to lose a hog with our delay," replies Arkold as he looks to the older man.

Alptraum half-grins, "Well, Arkold may get to sleep. I'm going to try and get a look at the nasty."

Garret snorts, then spits something into the fire. "Got little choice, eh? Maybe you can scare 'em off while you watch 'em."

Alptraum flashes a wide fangy grin. "I can try," he says, then takes a sip from his cup.

"Sleep it is then," remarks the lupine with a wide grin. "Sometimes it pays not to have wings. Like now. Can't exactly rush down there now can I? Anyway if you're willin' to host us I'm well and truly thankful. But bein' as I don't want to be a bother and I probably shouldn't get too comfortable feel free to ask me if you need anythin' done."

"I'll go do an aerial scout of the island until it starts to get dark, then," Alptraum says. "Have fun, Arkold!"

Arkold snaps off a salute to Alptraum. "Don't get eaten!"

While Arkold is situated in a guestroom (which is actually a single-room cottage of sorts up in the branches), Gunn gives Alptraum a tour of the island. She points out the dangerous spots of quicksand, and other features like the compost mounds, feeding troughs and shelters. The tour is done quickly, since the evening bog mist obscures things from sight before long, forcing the bats to rely on echolocation.

"Where do you want to set up watch?" Gunn asks Alptraum at the end of the tour.

"A tree central to the island, where I can echo-sweep in all directions," Alptraum says, "Perhaps ten to fifteen feet up."

No other trees can survive in the shadow of the giant central one – or else any that get started are quickly eaten down by the hogs – so Gunn shows Alptraum to a tall storage shed near the base of the tree. It's up on stilts to protect the contents from the livestock and other wildlife, so that the peaked roof is about tall enough to meet Alptraum's needs.

Alptraum looks out over the island. "Ah, Gunn, can I ask a favor… ?" he asks slowly.

"Sure!" Gunn answers, sitting on the edge of the roof. "I bet it's about food. You haven't eaten anything since you go here."

Alptraum chuckles, "Smart girl. That was exactly it." He tightens his wings back and says, "You're not the only, ah, vampire, on this roof. Arkold doesn't know, and I'm not sure I want him to."

Gunn's red eyes glow momentarily brighter in surprise. "What? You… you aren't undead are you? I mean, you don't look like a vampire," she says, nervously.

"I'm, ah, unique. And no, I'm not undead," Alptraum says, holding out his hand. "Check for a pulse if you don't believe me."

The Eeee girl leans away from the offered hand at first, then takes it and finds Alptraum's pulse with instinctive skill that comes from being a vampire. "Okay, you're alive then. Do you want something fresh, or will warmed up do? Do you want me to keep this secret from my family too?"

Alptraum hmms, "Well, whatever is easiest for you. Your family knowing is fine , but I'm just not sure about Arkold. I've had some bad reactions from people in the past. It's not … not great to see someone look at you with revulsion." He shrugs, adding, "Arkold may be fine with it, but we have another companion who may not. She's off on another job, though."

"The hogs don't know you, so I'd better get you something warmed up," Gunn says. "Do you want it plain, or spiced? I like ging-root in mine, at least for blood-biscuits. Uncle Beeb mixes wine with his a lot, and says it helps him keep warm."

Alptraum laughs and says, "Uh, I don't know. I'm used to just hunting down food. Feel free to add something, if you want."

"Hunting it down?" Gunn says, with a look of mock disgust. "You poor guy. I'll get you some civilized food, you just wait right here!" she promises, and then flaps up towards the treehouses.

Alptraum chuckles and shakes his head, mutters, "Yes, hunting. I have since I could walk."

The last of the sunlight fades, leaving the swamp to the mists. Even the Procession is obscured by fog and the tree canopy. Before too long though, Gunn returns with an ornately carved covered stein. "I brought you some soup," she says, and hands over the mug.

Alptraum takes the mug. He sniffs it, then takes a drink. "Thanks. I knew I should have gotten food earlier in the day," he says. His ears flick around, listening for movement that sounds different from the hogs.

The soup is a little above body temperature, and thickened by some sort of butter or added fat. The spices are mild, and give it pleasantly different flavor. The hogs are starting to bed down for the night, and thus are noisier than usual as they jostle for the best spots.

"So, I don't look like a vampire?" Alptraum asks out of curiosity. He then takes another drink from the stein.

"You don't have the eyes, and you just look… different," Gunn admits. "I've never heard of a black bat with white hair before. Were your parents surprised?"

"Look closer at my eyes," Alptraum comments. "As for my parents, ah, well, that's hard to explain. My birth was a bit unusual, so yes, I was a bit of a surprise."

Gunn peers closer at Alptraum in the dark. "Well, I guess they're an odd color. Mind you, my dad had one green eye and one blue one, so I might not be a good judge of that. It's not always good to look non-vampires in the eyes, afterall."

One by one, the sounds of the swamp die away, smothered by the fog and the need to hide from predators. Even the hogs have stopped their grunting.

"They're silver, to be exact. Milky-silver," Alptraum says. "And you know, you're the first other vampire I've really talked to? I was raised by two who were not. So, I've had a bit of, ah, a rough time learning how to survive." He flicks his ears again and listens.

The silence can seem oppressive to someone who depends on sound. There is only the slightest hint of swirling in the mists, and the odd sonic shadow off of the water.

"That's so… I don't know. Laccy would say it's romantic, I bet. She's into all that tragic-hero stuff," Gunn whispers. "I can't imagine not having a family."

Alptraum chuckles, "Lacrimosa? Well, it may read well in a book, I guess. It gets pretty lonely, though. Anyway, I don't need to be rambling on about the crud I've been through." He chugs down the remainder of the stein and offers it back to Gunn. "Why don't you head back in? Hopefully, it'll show soon and we can find out what it is, then deal with it tomorrow."

"I'll be right back to help," Gunn says, and flies off with the stein. There's something odd though, creeping its way into Alptraum's awareness. The echoes from Gunn's wingbeats aren't reflecting back from the swamp in quite the way they should. It's as if there is something sucking up the sound out there – several gaps where the echoes should have been.

Alptraum hmms. He turns his head in a slow arc and lets out a rapid series of clicks, trying to isolate what seems like a 'dead zone'. Or zones. Could there be more than one?

The active scanning immediately reveals several moving man-sized regions of silence, apparently coming over the water towards the island.

In all, Alptraum detects six likely intruders.

Alptraum tilts his head up and emits in the ultrasonic range, "Problem, there are six intruders. Investigating. May need aid. Tell Arkold to get ready." He spreads his wings out and takes off, staying high and focused … and trying to keep the 'dead zones' in front of him.

Up in the tree, Gunn goes to Arkold's room and tries to rouse the wolf.

Arkold wakes up almost immediately and he doesn't need to ask to know what's going on. Years of military service and time as a thief has made him all too used to being woken up suddenly in times of danger. The older man gets to his feet and collects his gear before creeping out to join Alptraum quietly.

With the ground providing the reflections now, it's harder to track the anomalies with the lack of cross echoes. But clear of the tree's shadow, it's possible to just make out disturbances in the mist. However silent the creatures are, they still leave wakes behind them.

Gunn shows Arkold to the sling at the end of the crane, and quickly lowers him to the ground that way.

Alptraum wings upward, then dives back down. His wings cant backward as he goes into an arcing speed-dive so he can sweep over some of the movement quickly and try to get a better visual.

The downdraft of Alptraum's swoop blows the fog away from one of the approaching entities, and for a brief moment the Eeee can glimpse a Gallee in rotting uniform, all limned in dim green foxfire, casually loping over water and muck as if weightless. It glares up at him as he passes; it's eyes nothing but blank black orbs.

Arkold tries to keep himself near the base of the big tree to prevent easy access from behind. With his sword in hand he begins to scan the area for signs of an intruder he cannot yet identify.

Alptraum wings back towards the tree and shouts in audible range for Arkold, "Zombies, looks like! Gallee! If you have any lamp oil, get it … and torches!"

"Zombies!" Gunn squeaks, and she and the rest of the household begin rushing around in an attempt to get the needed materials.

"I wish you'd have told me that before I came down here!" Arkold calls back up. Now that he knows what to look for he tries to discern the location of the nearest zombie and if they're grouped too closely together to risk attacking outright. "I'll see what I can do down here. Get me a torch!"

Several lit torches begin to fall from the tree above, one just missing Arkold's head as it lands handle-down into the soft soil.

"Undead something. You can find them by sound. They don't reflect, at all! Arkold, look for mist movements, they leave a wake! I'm not sure what kind of zombies these are … they can walk on water," Alptraum says, making his way toward one of the fallen torches and retrieving it.

"Burn the zombies, not ME!" the wolf hollers as he quickly extinguishes a little flame on his ear and reaches to recover the torch. He begins moving forward slowly with his sword ready and the torch held ahead of him as he tries to find a wake as Alptraum described. "No sounds? Are they even real?"

Gunn lands next to Alptraum, and Garret can be heard shouting overhead as the girl brandishes a torch of her own.

"They're moving the mists," Alptraum says quickly, his free hand drawing one of his daggers. "They have some sort of substance. Let'sgo, and not get surrounded… " He then starts, "Gunn, what are you doing?"

"Real enough," growls a voice unexpectedly close to Arkold's ear. The Jupani is able to turn and parry quickly enough to fend off the blow of his attacker's saber. This poodle has bright red eyes, and noticeably elongated canines. His uniform isn't so bad off, and his blows are certainly not clumsy.

"I'm not letting my home be invaded by stinking corpses," Gunn yells, and dashes towards the nearest form she sees coming out of the mist, waving her torch back and forth.

"Tired of sucking up the land, eh? Thought you'd suck up the people and animals too?" retorts the Jupani. He uses the torch as a distraction as he tries to get in an attack.

Alptraum curses in Sylvanian and goes after Gunn. "Foolish girl is going to get herself killed," he mutters, trying to overtake her to the mist movement.

The vampire poodle moves faster than he has a right to, easily dodging Arkold's strokes. "Oooooo, is that supposed to be ironic?" he taunts the Jupani.

As Alptraum catches up to Gunn, one of the black-eyed zombies floats forward towards them, a broken chitin sword held loosely in it's left hand.

Alptraum whips the torch upward, trying to hit it square in the chest. He growls loudly.

The wolf grunts as he misses. "No, that was supposed to be fatal," he snarls. Then he presses the attack.

The torch strikes a glancing blow off of the zombie's shoulder, and spins off into the air… coming down on the vampire officer's head. This causes the poodle to pause just long enough for Arkold to run him through the chest!

"Ooooo, ow… you got me!" the poodle says, raising his hands up and wiggling his fingers, then throwing back his head to laugh. He keeps going backwards though, until he smacks into the ground and lays still. This causes the zombie to alter his own course, heading for Arkold now.

Alptraum growls. "No, you don't," he says, crouching slightly, then launching himself at the zombie, striking at it with his dagger.

"Haha! Not so fast are you now, eh?" The Jupani leans down to touch his torch to the fallen vampire in an attempt to set him alight and make sure he's well and truly dead. Then he twists to look around for another target.

But before he wanders off Arkold reaches down and pulls his sword free from the poodle with a stiff jerk. "I don't look anything like a Gallee. Sylvanians are crazy," he mutters as he looks around.

As Arkold turns around, the zombie's broken sword sails past his head, thrown free as Alptraum tackles the creature from behind. Like a bag filled with twigs, the monster makes a brittle crackling sound as it's brought to the ground.

Alptraum sinks his claws into the back of the zombie, then pulls hard, trying to rip the creature apart.

"You squished it!" Gunn cheers, thrusting her fists into the air. Then the hogs begin to squeal in earnest, and start stampeding dangerously in all directions!

The zombie comes apart like a rag doll, the bits of it that fall onto the burning vampire flaring up brightly.

Alptraum starts seeking out other zombies via sonar. "Find the rest before Gunn gets herself killed!" he says.

Arkold glances at Alptraum as he wrestles with the zombie. "Nice jo- hey!" He notices that Gunn has landed and waves her off. "Get out of here before you get killed!"

With all of the panicked hogs running about, it's all Alptraum and Arkold can do to avoid being trampled! Gunn is already airborne, using ultrasonic commands to try and get the porcine stampede under control.

Alptraum kicks himself up into the air once he gets a free moment. "There are four more out there. We need to find them," he says quickly.

Arkold side steps, then jumps back in a make-shift dance as he tries to avoid being overrun by the charging hogs. "Maybe if we're-" he dashes to one side to narrowly avoid yet another disgruntled animal, "-lucky the hogs will crush them for us."

From near the beach, the horrified squeal of a hog rings out. "Hogarth!" Gunn screams, and heads for the sound, torch held out before her as she flaps her wings.

Alptraum wings after Gunn. He's not going to let his employer get killed by a zombie.

The location is made even more obvious a moment later, after Gunn dive-bombs something that flares up instantly in bright flames that cut right through the fog.

"Gunn! Pull out! We'll deal with it!" Alptraum screams, diving after her.

Being limited to the ground, Arkold concerns himself with avoiding rampaging hogs while attempting to close in on the nearest zombie. Again he looks for the telltale wake in the fog caused by their passage. "Help the girl, I'll be there when I can!" he calls out.

"They're over here!" Gunn calls out, hovering in place and waving her torch for Alptraum to see. "We've got to save Hogarth!"

Alptraum darts downward, drawing both his daggers this time. "Keep the area lit for Arkold. I'll hold them off!" he shouts.

Now that he has somewhere to go Arkold breaks into a run towards where he's being signaled. The light of his own torch marks his progress through the gloom.

A pair of burning red eyes glare up through the fog towards Alptraum, just as a Titanian-sized hand covered in curly white fur reaches up from the mist to grab Gunn by one leg, quickly yanking her down!

Alptraum snarls and darts right towards those eyes, striking at them with his daggers!

The vampire poodle dodges the daggers at the last moment, using that uncanny supernatural speed. Another red-eyed poodle is nearby, with a giant, hulking figure close behind him. "Another one's coming!" he warns, as Arkold's torch is closing in. "We've lost the grunts!"

Alptraum lands onto the ground, snarling. "Let the girl go and deal with me," he says sharply. "Do you realize who I am?"

Drawing his rapier, the first poodle says, "I'll deal with you, alright! And your name is lunch!" Snapping to the other poodle, he says, "Take the girl to the Captain, he'll get a kick out of it! I'll deal with these two."

The second poodle doesn't hesitate, and vanishes into the fog with the hulking figure loping along behind him.

"Wrong answer. I'm Alptraum Bar Reisender, son of Sunala," Alptraum snarls, "Arkold, save Gunn at all costs. I'll hold this one."

Arkold tries to hurry as best he can when he sees the girl go down. Unfortunately he's just not as fast as either the undead vampires or the winged Eeee. "You got it," he calls out through the fog as he changes course to try and chase after the girl. "Keep yellin' girl! I'm comin'."

"I'm already dead!" the poodle snarls, and lunges at Alptraum with his blade. His ability to dodge fast doesn't seem to translate to attacking, luckily.

The fleeing forms slow down a bit once they reach the water, but Gunn can still be made out swearing and cursing so that Arkold doesn't lose track of them.

Alptraum's pinpoint hearing alerts him to the blade movements of the vampire and he moves to the side with fluid grace. He brings up his left hand and strikes with his dagger hard toward the vampire's chest, going for the heart.

Arkold whips past Alptraum and his opponent before vanishing again in to the mists. Only the light of his torch and the echoing of his footsteps in the Eeee's ears show he hasn't been eaten up by the fog completely. "Stand fast, cowards!" he yells in an effort to slow them by taunts. And in a more physical effort he briefly hands off his sword so he can fling a dagger in the hopes that a wound might anger one or both into remaining.

At this range, there's no dodging. The poodle's momentum drives him forward onto the dagger, and he jerks to an immediate stop! Dropping his blade, the undead Gallee grabs onto Alptraum's left arm in an attempt to pull it back, but his hand bursts into green flame when it contacts the Eeee's skin!

Over the swamp, a howl of pain rings out! "Walk it off, Sergeant!" snaps the fleeing poodle, and Gunn can be heard laughing as something begins to splash heavily through the water.

Alptraum looks in shock when the Gallee's hand bursts into flame! "What the… he stammers and releases his dagger, leaving it embedded. He steps back quickly, trying to pull his arm free!

"Damned… vampire… bats," wheezes the stabbed poodle as he's consumed by the flames and falls to the sandy ground.

Impressed if not heartened by the endurance of the living dead Arkold can only hand his sword back to his main hand and continue chasing after the fleeing vampires. The thought of trying to chase them through water they can walk on causes the wolf to frown deeply even as he pants from the effort of combat.

Alptraum grabs up the fallen vampire's sword and takes to the air. He beats his wings rapidly, launching himself after Arkold and the other vampires.

There's the sound of arguing ahead of Arkold, and then a shouted, "Idiot! Go back and kill them, I'll take the girl!" The sound of splashing grows louder now.

"I'm going ahead after the one with the girl! Stop whatever the one coming this way!" Alptraum shouts, wing muscles pounding hard.

"That's right! Come back here!" the lupine yells in a wheeze. "Curse you! Where's your Gallisian honor now?" Arkold just waves to Alptraum as a signal he heard him. All this running and shouting is leaving him a little too strained to respond immediately.

A very deep growl answers Arkold, as the hulking beast comes into view, splashing through the water. It's jaw is heavier than any Titanian's, and the head more sloped back and feral. It's also much bigger, with just a few shreds of uniform and patches of curled fur hinting that it was once a Gallee.

"Uh, no hard feelings," remarks the wolf with far less vigor than his earlier jabs. He whips the torch through the air in an effort to distract the … whatever it is he's now locked in combat with hoping it's as stupid as he thinks it looks. "Just going to put you out of your misery." He raises his sword and waits to see if the monster takes the bait of being distracted by the torch or attempts to lunge at him. Grace is also something the wolf expects the monster is weak on, so he hopes to capitalize on its ungainliness.

Gunn has gone silent, but unlike the vampire carrying her, she shows up clearly on Alptraum's sonar. Floating weightlessly across the water isn't quite as fast as flying either, so the bat is closing the distance quickly.

Alptraum readies the blade he picked up, bringing it to bear along with his dagger. "Drop her," he orders.

Indeed, the wolf-like monster follows the jerky motion of the torch as Arkold waves it. A dagger is sticking out of its right thigh, looking very small and ineffectual, but apparently it was enough to break whatever magic let the creature move silently over the water and ground.

The vampire on the water stops, and turns to face Alptraum. Gunn is bundled up against his chest, with dark blood visible on her neck. "If I did that, she'd drown. She's far too weak to fly or swim now," the poodle chuckles.

Alptraum snarls softly. "Not if I kill you and collect her," he says darkly. "Hand her over, and I'll let you live for tonight."

Arkold begins to sidestep so now he and the torch move. He steps so that he forces the beast to turn on its wounded leg and perhaps favor it if attacked. When he feels confident in his distraction – and when he's swallowed his fear of death enough – he flings the torch at the monster and charges behind it intent on striking.

The hulking poodle-beast doesn't hesitate – it lunges after the torch, catching it in its jaws and landing on all fours with its huge tail wagging back and forth!

"I can't give her up, I'm afraid," the vampire poodle tells Alptraum. "We need her! A virgin vampire girl! If the Captain can't break Draco's curse with her, nothing will!"

Arkold brings his other hand to the hilt of his sword mid-swing as he aims to severe the beast's head from its shoulders.

"And I can't let you leave with her. Your minion made the mistake of messing with me, I suggest you learn from that. And tell me, what is Draco's curse?" Alptraum asks, snarling.

The Jupani's sword cuts into the heavily muscled shoulder of the monster, causing it to let out a confused "Whurf?" before it drops the torch to the sand and turns to snap at Arkold!

"The Damned Countess Draco, that's who!" the poodle snarls, it's red eyes glowing brighter. "She did this to us, our whole company! And we're tired of running, tired of being monsters!"

"You invaded her lands. You got what you deserved," Alptraum retorts, eyes narrow. "And just how is a virgin vampire to break the curse?"

Arkold looks somewhat pleased with his strike – until the were-poodle turns to glare at him. With speed born out of a desire to not follow his torch as a monster-snack he sidesteps before jerking his sword free and stepping backwards. Again he begins circling the monster in the hopes it'll make another mistake.

The monster doesn't take long to decide, and charges towards Arkold again!

"The Captain knows! He was told how to break the curse, supposedly to torment him," The poodle tells Alptraum. "But he told us to watch for a vampire Eeee maiden. We've been looking, and now we have one!"

Alptraum raises his blades. "Well, I can't let you take her. Prepare yourself for the afterlife. Tell Sunala her son sent you," he says darkly.

Before he can even attempt to dodge, Arkold's foot gets caught in some kind of rope barrier, and he trips back over it into some sort of cold mush. The were-poodle passes right over him, splashing down somewhere behind him.

"Don't try it!" the poodle warns, and places the talon-like claws of his right hand against Gunn's violated throat. "I'll tear her open! If I die again, I won't go alone!"

"Vhai!" cries Arkold as he goes down. The beast sails over him and he swings far late to do anything but stir mist. Now down in the murk it takes him but a moment to realize where he is. With his free hand he tries to grab hold of the rope or its barrier to avoid being sucked down in the sandy doom while at the same time trying to keep an eye on the monster that has joined him in the quicksand.

"You tear her open, and your suffering will truly be eternal," Alptraum says, unwaveringly. "Hand her over, now. Tell your Captain I will meet with him. I want to hear how you can supposedly be cured. And, I may be able to find another way."

The tips of Arkold's fingers brush against one of the poles holding the ropes, which was bent over when he tripped over it. Behind him, the monster thrashes and howls, sending waves and ripples through the quicksand that makes it difficult for Arkold to get any kind of purchase.

"You're another Eeee," the poodle spits. "I'll never trust one of your kind! You can't kill me without risking the girl."

Remembering his survival lessons from his time in the desert and in the military Arkold forces himself not to struggle more than necessary. He doesn't want to disturb the quicksand any more than he has to in his effort to get out, but he keeps trying to reach the rope or pole in an effort to drag himself out.

Alptraum puts his blades away. He flicks his wings and says, "There, I'm unarmed. Hand her over and you will live tonight. As I said, have your Captain meet me tomorrow night. I won't offer again."

"I'll need a bit more insurance," the poodle says, grinning. He pulls Gunn's mouth open with his fingers, and pushes her muzzle onto his neck. Reflexively, the weakened bat bites down and drinks the Gallee's blood.

Something firm and wet clamps down on Arkold's hand. There's a snort, and the Jupani is dragged out of the quicksand! Only then does Hogarth let the Jupani's hand drop from his mouth. The boar is scratched up and bloody, but still quite alive.

"Bring her to the ruins of the Great Bird tomorrow night," the poodle says. "She'll start to turn into a real vampire if you don't! But cure us, and she'll be saved as well."

Arkold lies in the mud for a moment as he catches his breath. Then he reaches up and pats the hog on the side of the muzzle fondly. "I'm, I'm n-never eating hog again." With a heave and a groan he pushes himself up and twists around to see if the were-poodle is doing any better.

Alptraum snarls, "How dare you!" He lurches forward, dive-attacking the poodle with his claws!

There are still some ripples and bubbles breaking the surface of the quicksand pool, but no sign of the poodle-monster.

Arkold shakes his head as he dusts himself off with a hand. "So much for 'im. Hehehe- … Ow." Still pretty much caked in mud and sand, the lupine turns and begins moving off towards the direction that he saw the last vampire go.

The poodle throws Gunn away from himself in an attempt to dodge, but isn't fast enough as Alptraum strikes him! The right side of his face is practically pulled off, while flames sprout from the gouges raked into his right shoulder! He loses control of whatever force kept him above the water, and falls in with a splash!

Alptraum's eyes narrow and he shoves his wings hard, trying to force himself after Gunn to grab her. "Hold together, Traum," he thinks.

"Mr. Arkold?" comes the voice of Annabelle, as she and Lacrimosa run up to the Jupani, bearing torches and shovels. "Are you alright?"

"… no!" Alptraum thinks, his hand swooping down to grab, looking like he'll miss. But, at the last moment, he snags her left hand and shoves his wings hard, trying to use all his strength to lift her and himself up into the air.

Sylvanian Eeee are generally built along hardier lines than their city-dwelling kin are. Still, Gunn isn't very heavy, even wet, compared to Alptraum's adrenaline fueled wings. He's eventually able to get her out of the water and into a more secure grip, although flying back will be a strain.

"I think so," replies Arkold as he wipes sand from his face so he can see who's talking to him better. The wolf looks sandy, muddy, and bit bruised but no worse for the wear. "Have you see Alptraum? I think the kid chased after the other vampire but I haven't seen him yet." He thumbs back across the water in the direction he had been heading. "Hope he's okay. He's a good kid. Weird, but a good kid."

Alptraum concentrates on flying, pushing his wings hard, and trying to ignore the pain of doing so. "G… get some solid food, hurry," Alptraum calls back toward the shore.

The wolf's ears perk. "Eh?" he asks the female Eeee next to him. "Did you hear something?"

"Oh my!" Annabelle gasps, dropping her shovel and taking Arkold's hand. "What about… " she begins to say, then swivels her ears towards the water. "I hear him! Laccy, go get some bread and meat, quickly!"

The older daughter drops her own shovel and flies back towards the tree, leaving a trail of sparks from her torch.

"What? What is it?" Arkold asks, unable to hear nearly as well as the Eeee. "And I'm fine. Don't worry about me. Just do me a favor: don't ever eat Hogarth, yeah?"

"We don't eat our pets," Annabelle says, despite looking worriedly out over the water. "There's two of them… he must have Gunn!"

Alptraum, flying slightly erratically, comes into view. It sure looks like he'll land hard, but he seems to be in one piece. "Make sure the food is wet and easy to swallow," he gasps, "We have to get Gunn to vomit. We've got to feed it to her!"

Lacrimosa wings her way back, carrying a very fresh chunk of bloody meat, and heavy block of rye bread. "One of the other hogs didn't make it. Oh no, Gunn!"

The wolf nods. "Great," he says distractedly as he turns to follow the woman's gaze. "Dagh's teeth!" the wolf then exclaims as he sees the pair come in for a landing. He steps forward uncertainly as if debating if he should run to help them or remain where he is and let the bats handle their own.

Alptraum lands heavily on the shore and takes gulps of air as he sets Gunn down gently. "Quick, cut some strips, small. We need to be able to get her to eat some to trigger the response," he says, then lays his head on her chest and listens for her heart. "I'm sorry to do this to you, Gunn. I know what it feels like to consume that when your body can't handle it."

Taking the food from Lacrimosa, Annabelle says, "Now go back and get spoiled curds from the top of the cheese vat." The stunned Lacrimosa just nods and rushes off again.

The Jupani's ears cant back and he tilts his head as he tries to understand the situation. "What happened, bats? I couldn't see from the shore," he says. "And need anythin' from me? Otherwise I'm goin' to make sure the undead really are dead."

"Hang in there, Gunn. Hold on," Alptraum says quietly.

Leaning down, Annabelle tears off chunks of meat and practically shoves them down Gunn's throat, even kneading her neck to force her to swallow. "She's been bitten. What else?" she asks Alptraum, all business.

"The vampire made her drink some of his blood. We have to get her to vomit it out before it's too late," Alptraum replies grimly.

Out of breath from making two trips in quick succession, Lacrimosa lands and nearly collapses before handing over a jar of incredibly sour smelling cheese-juice to Arkold.

Arkold jerks at that. He isn't quite sure what that means but given the situation he's certain it's dire indeed. "Er, right. Look, if you got it under control I need to check the walkin' corpse-" When the jar is pushed in to his hand he gives it a bemused look, glances at Alptraum and the goings on with Gunn, then nods and steps forward. "I always hated medic support duty," he mutters as he kneels down beside Gunn.

Even the smell of the noxious liquid is causing Gunn's nose to wrinkle up, as if it's trying to retreat from the stench.

"Pour it down her throat, please," Annabelle says, as she pries open Gunn's mouth and holds it steady.

Alptraum tries to NOT breathe through his nose.

Arkold's nose doesn't look much better. The Jupani twists the jar open and begins pouring the foul smelling stuff down Gunn's throat. "Sorry about this, kiddo," he offers soothingly.

At the first signs of convulsions, Annabelle clamps her daughter's mouth closed, until Gunn's eyes are wide open. "Stand clear!" she warns, then rolls Gunn onto her side and lets go!

Alptraum falls back on his butt and away from the direction of Gunn's mouth. "Ooof," he mutters.

The wolf doesn't need to be told twice! He shoves himself out of the way and holds his nose shut.

A foul stream of blood, meat and worse explodes from the girl's mouth! Black smoke curls up from some if it, while other elements catch fire. Lacrimosa quickly turns away and starts retching as well.

"There, there," Annabelle says, nonplussed. She just keeps rubbing Gunn's back between her wings. "Cough up all the nasty poison dear."

Alptraum winces, having unfortunate memories of childhood incidents where he tried to eat solid food. He urps, and forces down the urge to retch as well.

"Ah, Annabelle, may I ask a question… ?" Alptraum manages to get out without retching over the scent.

Even Arkold cringes at the look of the stuff. Blood he can take, but not this mixed poison of sour milk and blood so foul it burns. He sets his jaw and tries not to think too much about the drinking of blood.

"Yes, Alptraum?" Annabelle answers calmly.

"Do undead vampires burst into flame if a Sylvanian Eeee cuts them?" Alptraum asks unsteadily.

"Burst into flames? If they did wouldn't Gunn set them on fire?" points out Arkold as he finally manages to open his mouth.

"I've never heard of anything like that," the woman answers. "Father might know, but it doesn't sound likely. Otherwise there wouldn't be much of an undead vampire problem in Sylvania."

"Okay, right, thanks," Alptraum says, then glances toward the swamp. "Then why couldn't they touch me?" he wonders aloud, then pauses, realizing what he just said.

Gunn moans and clutches at her stomach then. "Dagh, my head is gonna pop," she says, and Annabelle quickly pinches her ear. "Don't curse!" she chides.

"Yeah don't curse. It's a bad habit," agrees the Jupani as he offers Gunn a rag to wipe herself off with.

Alptraum looks down at his clawed hand momentarily, mind racing. But when he hears Gunn speak, his attention returns to her. "Just relax. You're safe and you'll be all right. Sorry we had to do that, but … better than the the alternative," he says, trying to reassure her. He glances at Arkold briefly, then says in a hushed tone, "We have to talk later. It's important."

The wind whips lightly through the treetops this night. It's hard to imagine that only a few hours earlier there had been a pitched battle with a group of undead vampires, zombies, and even a dreaded were-poodle. As the commotion died down, most of the family shifted off to sleep, exhausted from the day's events. Alptraum and Arkold sought out the bathing chamber and took turns removing the grime from the battle. The two are currently sitting on the platform outside the bathing room. Alptraum is only adorned in a towel to keep himself modest while his clothing sways on a nearby branch to dry out. "Well, this little adventure became much larger than I expected," the Eeee says. "And, I don't think it's even close to over."

Like Alptraum, the wolf has left his travel clothes to dry. He wears a towel as he leans against the rail of the deck and looks out in to the misty night. He doesn't comment at first and Alptraum might wonder if the wolf even heard him. "Yep," he says at length. "Didn't think Tulani would get me in this much trouble."

Alptraum lets out a laugh. "You're not around Tulani, you're around me. And I swear I attract it," he says as he shakes his head, amused. "Look, you don't have to get involved in this. I suppose we've fulfilled what we agreed in the first place. I don't know what exactly is going on here … but I have to find out. If you want to head back and wait for Tulani, I'll understand."

"Eh," says the wolf with a shrug. "Don't think you're the only one on the world who attracts trouble. Or that has a stake of things. 'Course I don't have to get involved – neither do you. We're here because we want to be – right?" The middle aged man glances over his shoulder at the bat and grins. "I want to be right where I am. Fightin' zombies, fighting Gallee, helpin' out … Y'know what? I just like being useful. Don't really care about the money anymore. Don't tell anyone."

Alptraum chuckles, "Well, I do have a reason to be involved when it's the undead, but anyway. You're right, we're here because we want to be. And in case you're not aware, this isn't over yet. There are more out there, and I think I know where. The one that had the girl shouted off a meeting place while he was trying to change Gunn into an undead vampire in an attempt to get 'assurance' of his survival. Bad move on his part; I took off half his face for that. He's likely not completely gone, however." The Eeee shrugs and asks, "Did, ah, anything odd happen while you were fighting them?"

The wolf's ears flick. "Odd? Uh, no, nothin' odd. Went about as I planned really. Lured that were-whatever right in to that sand trap. Nothin' odd about that," he answers. "Though I suppose sharin' witty jabs with a dead man is a bit odd. The whole thing wasn't exactly normal if you get me."

"The vampires lit up in spectral green fire if they touched me," the Eeee says and looks off into the darkness of the night. "I'm not complaining, mind you. It was just … strange. The benefit of being a child of a goddess, demi-god, freak, or what have you, I suppose. Not sure how else to explain it."

"A child of a what's-it?" Arkold repeats.

"Well, if you believe what's been said, I'm the child of the goddess Sunala, the Babelite goddess of death, and a mortal," Alptraum replies and shrugs slightly. "Sunala has some sort of link to Rinala, the goddess of life … and a link to Nala, of whom you and Tulani are searching for. Incidentally, Sunala supposedly hates the undead and destroys them wherever they reside."

"Huh." A pause. "Yup, that's interestin' – if what you're sayin' is true. Not that I'm sayin' you're lying, you get me? Just that I'm not sure what to make of that, an' you don't seem to quite be sure of it either. As for Nala, Rinala and Sunala – well I keep up on my prayers. I'm no scholar of religion. But I figure we'll need to learn about all of them before we're done. Me, I'll probably be the one takin' the Light of Nala home."

Alptraum shrugs at that and says, "I suppose that'll depend on what it is, really. And you're right, I don't know what to make of any of it. But, it's somewhat of a silver lining in all this mess with the undead if it's true. We have an edge-up on them. Incidentally, those things that came here last night were products of Countess Draco, according to the one I cornered out in the swamp."

Arkold puts his head back down on the rail and peers into the darkness below the tree. "Draco … Draco … " he muses to himself as he tries to place the name. "She's Sylvanian right? Northeast area of Sylvania? I think I saw her lands on the map. We'll probably be headin' near them. Can't say I like the idea of someone with enough power to make a handful of Gallees into monsters. Doesn't do nothin' for Sylvani either. All these monsters make things hard all-aroun' for people here. Can't say an undead soldier is any better than a live one. Might just be worse."

The Eeee nods, "She's definitely Sylvanian, up northeast from where we are now. I heard rumors a year or so ago she's undead herself." He taps his claws on the planks, then resumes speaking, "Well, we may find out more from the 'captain' of the undead on just what they were cursed with … and how to cure them. I hope we got that vile blood out of Gunn in time so she won't also be bound by it. Poor kid."

Alptraum can see Arkold's shoulders slump a little at the mention of Gunn. He sighs and shakes his head. "Keep thinkin' we could have done more to help her. But, eh, probably not. Kids don' listen. It's all an adventure. I was like that when I was her age too. Heh." His laughter sounds strained. "But we'll see if she's fine. If not, we'll do somethin' about it. Uh, about the undead? Captain you say? Any idea how many we're lookin' at? And they're vampires, right? Like the old stories? Maybe they can't be around durin' the day. So that'd be the time to strike."

Alptraum sighs in agreement. "I wish she wouldn't have come out to help. She had good intentions, but… Her family needed her more, and we could have handled it," he replies. "As for numbers … no idea. I hope not too many more. I'm guessing they're a mix of old-story vampires, were-whatevers, and zombies. Zombies are fairly easy, as they're slow moving. The vampires should be easy during the day according to the old tales. But, I imagine the zombies and such will be guarding them during the day. Still, better just zombies, than zombies and vampires, eh? We should cobble together as many torches and stakes as we can manage to carry. We'll also need some directions to the location the vampire mentioned. I hope the Smiths know where the 'Great Bird' is."

A gust of wind inclines Arkold to straighten up so that his blonde hair will catch the full weight of the breeze. He claws at it to try and rake it into some semblance of neatness as he talks. "Easier to fight in the light, too, assumin' they're not holed up in some cave or crypt. An' I'm thinkin' this 'Great Bird' of theirs must be near wherever they're hidin'. Can't see them handin' out pre-arranged meetin' places for strangers often. So I'm bettin' they're nearby. If there're a lot of 'em we should see signs of it. Hard to hide a livin' ar- … rrr-" he tugs a knot out of his hair, " … -army of any size at least."

"Hmm, true, that," Alptraum muses. "And well, easier for non-Eeee to fight in the light, anyway. I forget others can't 'see' with their ears sometimes. "So, we should gather up some stakes, torches, and try to find the place during the day, yes? Is there anything more we should consider? You're more the fighter than I."

"If we're goin' underground an' up against a horde try an' fight in a narrow passage. Means they can only send a few at you at a time. Ah, don' go thinkin' just because a Gallee is dressed better than your sister he'll be an' easy foe. Some of 'em know their stuff an' are a real danger – no matter how they dress. Also – an' I learned this dealin' with that were – weres are all brawn an' no brains. You can fool 'em with movement like thrown sticks an' they don't think things through. Oh, yeah, and bein' you can fly you have a real advantage over anyone not armed with a missile weapon – but you probably know that," suggests Arkold.

"Avralie, but I am lacking a crossbow right now, so I have to get close to fight anyway," Alptraum replies. "Only useful if I have to flee right away. I'm hoping it'll be on a lot of dry land, of you're in a bit of trouble if we have to escape. There's no way I can carry you."

"Don' worry abou' me. I'm an' old man. If I die out here in a swamp, well, that's how it goes. Just see if you can't get my things to Raneah or Tulani. I'd appreciate it. But yeah, if I go down, run if you think you can't handle it. And I mean it. No' that you'd listen to me either, heh, you're a lot like Gunn," says the wolf. And this time he laughs with genuine mirth before he adds, "Oh, yeah and a bit more advice: those things need concentration to walk on water. Wound 'em an' they go down."

"So I noticed. After I peeled the face off that one, down he went," Alptraum says with a chuckle. "And, I don't run unless absolutely necessary; nor do I leave anyone behind unless absolutely necessary. I'm nothing like Gunn, thanks. I do look some before I leap."

"So that's why you're chasin' monsters around eh?" Arkold laughs again. "Not like I'm one to talk. But I won't claim maturity. I'm thirty-nine years old an' I'm still runnin' aroun' like some half-witted young man. Keeps you young though. Seein' the world. 'Course I can' do this forever. I'm hopin' I can settle here."

"People give Sylvania a bad rap. It's really a nice place to live," Alptraum says with a grin. "It gives a home to many of those whom other societies have outcast, for various trivial reasons. Like Gunn's family here … in other parts of the world, they'd be reviled because of what they have to live on. Not here, though. They're a nice family too."

The wolf gives Alptraum a 'you're kidding me' look. "Heh. It's not that undeserving of the reputation. Let's face it. Lady Draco turned a bunch of men into monsters. Undead wander the countryside. It's mostly swamp an' forests. It ain't a great place to live. But, ah, you're right about it bein' a home for outcasts. I feel it too. Like we're livin' in Black Sheep country. The land is bad – and so are you – so come on in. Heh. An' you know for all their oddities Sylvanians are nice humble people. No pretenses. Not like the 'crust in Rephidim or the cats of Abu-Dhabi."

Alptraum laughs, "I grew up here; I see it differently. The actions of a few shouldn't be the reasons to curse everyone here. And shouldn't be used as an excuse to come in and slaughter whomever, like the Gallee have been doing."

"Hey," says the wolf as he stands up. "You interested in gettin' better at fighting? I can teach you if you want. Heh, I can teach you other things too. Don't deny it. Gypsy? I know a man with sticky fingers when I see it. Don't worry though. I used to be a thief myself."

"Eh, I feel sorry for the Gallahs," adds Arkold as he stretches his arms and back. "Let me say it straight: I was rich once. Spoiled. Rotten. Rich. Gallees were who we associated with. They're canine people an' there ain't a lot of noble Jupani outside of military duty in Rephidim. Lots of them had Gallah servants. Poor guys. They get it almost as bad as the spotties used to."

Another chuckle from the Eeee. "I'm already quite adept and the art of goods retrieval. As for fighting, I could probably use help there. I'm good with daggers and crossbows, but anything else, eh," Alptraum replies as he stands to check on his clothing. The bat pauses at the mention of Rephidim, then growls quietly, "Rephidim … they clam to be so much better than any other place. No slaves, better treatment, bah. It's a sham. They still don't care thing one for others when it suits their needs. They were more than willing to pay off someone to get a foothold in another city. Let's just say they were willing to turn their back and let a bunch of children get slaughtered because it benefited them."

"You'll find that's the case just about everywhere," says the wolf. He walks over and fetches his now dry pants and then walks around a corner to get dressed. "Politics for you. It'd happen here, too. Probably does. I mean look at 'ol bat Draco. Turnin' a bunch of invaders into undead wasn't exactly the kind thing to do for the Sylvanians. Probably made them worse. If she had any sense she'd have just killed them and been done with it. Or better yet taken the officers captive and use them as a bargainin' chip. You'd be surprised how much some Gallisians will pay for their first born son. Not everythin' has to be blood and murder either. We may need politics in the end."

Alptraum starts pulling down his dried clothing. "My problem with it is the hypocrisy. They claim to be all high and mighty better, when they're swimming in the gutter with everyone else. That makes them worse in my book. Politics are fine and dandy, but unless they're enforced with some sort of unbreakable code, then you're no better and installing one government over the other will change nothing. There has to be a line drawn that people will not cross, and that line has to be set at a better point than the current one. So far, every government I've seen in my travels on this planet have exactly the same line, and there's nothing any of them won't stoop to," he replies, then tugs on his pants while the wolf is around the corner.

"Kid, no government – especially a power like Rephidim – is going to portray itself as anythin' less than perfect. 'Cause if they do they look weak, and weakness invites predators. An' I mean all kinds. From foreign governments to rebel groups that think your Mr. Politician aren't doin' well enough an' need your head removed form your shoulders. I'm sure any government on this planet or beyond that had Rephidim's power would claim the same thing. S'also why Sylvania is at the mercy of the dogs. We look weak an' we are. Can't really help the reality, but maybe we can help the appearance. Same ol' pretense. Look strong so you live. Individual people do it too. I sure do. An' I bet you don't go around advertisin' your weaknesses either." There's a rustle and a thump and then the sound of a belt being set.

"Well, you could color me quite happy if someone does obliterate that floating ball of hypocrisy some day," Alptraum replies as he tightens his sash around his waist. "I'm not talking about their weaknesses or appearance, I'm talking about their actions. And I've seen many of their actions up close and personal, trust me. And no, I'm not going into details because it'll just make me madder."

"Want to kill the shop owners, the merchants, the poor, and then catapult the world in to war huh?" asks the wolf. "There's a lot of innocent – well as innocent as any adult is – people on that island. And like it or not Rephidim keeps a kind of order. If Rephidim falls you can expect all these nations who wanted to take a chunk out of the other, and all those who wanted to be the big shot to go at it. It'd be chaos for a while. An' that means dead kids, crying mothers, and sons buried before their fathers hit the grave. You can't rage against the world Alptraum. You can try and change it, sure, but make sure you know the rules. Don't be too quick to draw a blade if you can help it."

No response from the Eeee immediately. He completes getting dressed before saying, "And that goes back to my problem with them. There are no rules for any of them; they do what they want and at the expense of others. If you want to make a better world, you have to set uncrossable lines. The ends do not justify the means, I'm sorry. Such as if you said to make Sylvania better I have to go kill this village of twenty children. Sorry, no. Find another way. You say I shouldn't be quick to draw a blade, well, neither should they."

The wolf walks back around with his arms folded across his chest. He gazes at Alptraum with an uncharacteristic look of consideration and focus. Gone is his usual happy-go-lucky expression. "So you want to be god, eh? Make the big rules? Have all the answers, do you? Have you considered anything you've said kid? I want, I wish, they should – and they won't. Simple as that. There isn't a big rule. Might never be. We sure as hell won't see it. We can only work with what we've got, kid. We're just mortal men. Shrug and stomp your feet all you like. Cry if you want. But let me give you some advice from an old man: get over it if you want to help anyone."

Alptraum smirks. "And it's the attitude right there of 'they won't', which is why it doesn't," Alptraum replies. "And you want all the bare facts about me, then understand this; the blood of one of the worst people alive in this world flows through my veins. Someone who's nearly singly responsible for a great deal of horror and tragedy. I will do anything to not end up being like him. I can't allow myself to even start down his path of thinking. That's my demon."

"Look, kid, do you think I like how things work? Let me tell you I don't. Not one bit. But I've learned to make use of what I have because it's all we get to work with. Maybe you can make a difference – maybe I can too – but it won't all be at once. It'll be slow. You'll have to work with things as they are. Which is why if Sylvania wants to survive it'll need to work the politics. Like it or not. An' don't think what you do effects just you, boy, because it doesn't. You may find out you'll try so hard not to be like your father you inevitably get people hurt. You might end up sacrificing lives to your perfect ideal. Thing is kid people are suffering right now and they don't want to wait for perfection. Think about them, first, then worry about your ideals," argues the Jupani man.

"Do you think that thought hasn't occurred to me?" Alptraum replies, trying to remain calm. "I had the chance to kill him. Many would say I should have. In the end, I couldn't. For two reasons; One, doing so would have made me just as bad as the person I removed. Two, removing him would have thrown the place in even worse chaos than it was already in. I had to work with the way things were, as much as I hated it. But, it doesn't mean that here we can't try to forge a better way. If we want to make things truly better, we can't be willing to trade out the ideals we're fighting for. We can't become the demon while fighting it, okay?"

"Eh you make it sound worse than it is. It's not black and white," Arkold explains, his voice calming with concern. "I've looked at the maps of Sylvania and I've been talkin' around. I was there on Rephidim when Sylvania was essentially sold off. I heard the arguments over cards. Honestly kid we're in a tight spot here. Politically we could really use the help of our neighbors. We could use a presence so that the world at least knows we're still here and Sylvania hasn't, ah, forgive the expression, gone to the dogs. I really doubt we can muster an army to defeat Gallis. We can't just swing it out with them. We need to be clever here kid. Use what we can to win – and I don't mean we have to go as far as your old man. Just be prepared to look like we're tough. Think of politics. Fight with something other than a sword, eh?"

Alptraum laughs. "And you know, I agree with you there. Why are we arguing again?" the bat replies.

The wolf laughs as well, and then steps forward and punches Alptraum lightly in the shoulder. "Because I like you, kid. And I want you to do well. You're makin' me feel old though. I wasn't expecting to have this talk with a young man until I was at least sixty," he replies.

Alptraum shakes his head. He runs his claws through it and sighs. "You remember asking why I was out here chasing monsters? Would you like to know my reason?" he asks.

"You're as crazy as I am?" the wolf offers jokingly. Then he rubs his own head and his smile fades a little. "But, uh, yeah. Sure kid. I see this is serious for you. If you want to get it off your chest I'll listen."

Alptraum chuckles, "Well, I'm not saying I'm not as crazy." He cranes his head and looks upward through the branches before speaking, "A lot of people died because I was born. Some on protecting my birth, others in a misguided attempt to protect me later, many just innocents caught in the middle. My existence was even a small part of why a war was fought. I'm out here fighting monsters and trying to help who I can to honor those who died because of me. In some way, to maybe make their sacrifice worth it."

"Mmm." The wolf cocks his head to the side and folds his hands across his chest again. "I can understand it. I'm sure you've heard that it's not your fault, and you were just a pawn, etc. and so on – but you're the kind of kid who feels honor-bound to repay it just the same. Sad as it is for me to see you do it I can't help but feel a bit glad, too. Maybe because I'm doin' much the same and I'm a selfish bastard. People have died because of me, too – and in a more direct fashion. In doin' good here I feel like maybe – just maybe – I'll redeem a bit 'o myself as well. I'm thinkin' you feel the same way."

"I know it wasn't my fault. I understand that, because I didn't ask them to do anything. I was a baby, I couldn't have done anything," the Eeee replies with a nod. He then taps his chest and adds, "But it still hurts. And to make matters worse … there are times I've had to sit and talk to the ghosts of the dead. To see their world through their eyes and their last moments of life." He shakes his head, "It's hard. And it's hard to sometimes not lash out in anger at all of it. It's hard to not push people away from me for fear that they'll get hurt too." He then nods to Arkold and says, "And I think I do. I want the benefits of my life on this world to have outweighed the negatives when then end comes for me. I want to have been worth something and the sacrifices of others not to have been in vain."

"Yeah," the wolf says with a nod. "And that all comes back to why we're here. To make a difference so that our passing was not a burden on the world. Or so a Gallisian poet might say. Heh. Yeah, I've read their novels too. Like I said: rich. And bored. Man I was stupid back then. I hope when you're my age you feel better about your younger days. But anyway, you want to learn how to fight? Or did you want to get more off your chest than my fist?" Arkold grins lopsidedly.

Alptraum smirks and comments, "I'd rather get to know Lacrimosa a bit better, maybe. She was cute." He then chuckles and says, "But really, I seemed to have acquired a sword from the earlier fight, so I ought to at least learn how to wield it without whacking bits off myself in the process."

"If you want to get to know Lacrimosa better you'll probably want yourself intact I'm sure," says Arkold with a grin. He walks over and picks up his scabarded scimitar in one hand and then turns to Alptraum. "First we probably ought to look that sword of yours over. I'll show you how to clean the blade if you don't know how. I have a 'stone you can use. Haven't any idea how well the dead take care of their weapons. Hopefully better than they take care of themselves, eh?"

"Avralie. I'm not sure her mother would appreciate an interested gypsy, however." Alptraum replies with a grin. He goes over to the side and retrieves the sword that the second vampire had dropped. "It's some sort of Gallee blade, that's all I know," he says.

"Probably a rapier then. Gallees like light thrusting weapons. Gives them a chance to be elegant about the whole matter of fighting, and it doesn't clash with their outfits. 'Course some of them like war swords but those are generally the professional fighters. Good thing I trained with a rapier first. I can give you some pointers. An' it's a good weapon for a bat. Not heavy an' you can thrust from the air a bit easier than you can probably slash." Arkold walks over and takes the sword for a moment. He holds it so he can peer down the length of the blade. "Isn't bent at least. Hard to bend a rapier permanently, or to break one. They look flimsy but they're solid. Looks like it could use some cleaning." He offers it back. "But you can clean it after we're done. I'll show you some exercises you can do without me."

Alptraum nods and slips his hand around the grip. "Plus, thrusting is less likely to cut my wings," Alptraum says in agreement. "All right, show me what you can," he says, then considers something. "And oh, bit of advice … If you ah, get any ideas about Annabelle as she is around your age, keep in mind a vampire could mean something else if she mentions 'necking'," he adds with a fangy grin.

Arkold grimaces at that. "I miss the days when women weren't so complicated," he laments half-heartedly. Then he lays his sword against the tree trunk before snapping off a branch and assuming a rapier-fighting stance. "Stance is important. Always is. Now you'll want to place your feet like so … "