The escape from the Tower of Babel has been fraught with dangers. At first, Autumn-Storm the cheetah and Alptraum the bat were apart from the world, accompanied only by the strange mutant creature that Alptraum rescued from the tower on his way out. It is so dark at the bottom of the towering city, where sunlight never penetrates, but they have worked their way upward through the labyrinth of stairways and bridges cutting across the towers, occasionally having to backtrack when they encounter dead ends, collapsed walkways, or unfriendly inhabitants.

It has been like this for perhaps a couple of days at the very least, and they've seen signs that there is more in turmoil than just a change of leadership at the Tower of Babel. Strange monsters have gotten loose from the tower, it seems, and the fighting hasn't been restricted solely to that fortress. Autumn-Storm's meeting point proves to be fruitless – there is no one to meet her; not even an ambush to capture her for daring to survive her mission. So, they are forced to press on … and Alptraum finds this particularly hard, as his wounds have not been properly treated yet. At last, they stumble across an oddity in the city, directed by one of the locals that Autumn-Storm seems to think is trustworthy – they come across a hospice built within the ruins of one of the towers alongside the "Wound".

All the beds – be they mats or bedrolls – are taken by the wounded. The priestesses who operate this clinic are vastly outnumbered by the wounded, though a number of volunteers assist them in their work. Autumn-Storm helps Alptraum limp into the hospice, as he has been feeling increasingly weak, almost feverish. Perhaps the beetle that attacked him left some toxins in his blood – or perhaps their misadventure in the Tower brought him into contact with some loosed contagion.

The mutant boy that accompanies Autumn-Storm and Alptraum, ironically, seems more self-capable than Alptraum at this point. Whereas at first Alptraum had been forced to carry the strange vaguely bat-like child, now the child walks on his own, wrapped up in some tattered rags that Autumn-Storm acquired as a disguise for him. The creature says nothing, only peering out from underneath his cowl with wide eyes at the strange chaos of the world around him.

"Please? Help?" Autumn-Storm tries to make some hand-signs to draw attention, but nobody here evidences any knowledge of the silent language of the Savanites. She supports Alptraum, looking this way and that for somewhere suitable to help him sit down. So far, nothing but the floor itself looks to be available.

Alptraum blinks wearily, looking up for a moment at his surroundings. "May," Alptraum begins to say, having to pause to take in a breath. "May we stay for some time? I am … I am not well. We have traveled for days and I don't think I can go much further." He then looks to Autumn-Storm and signs, "Help me down. I need to rest some."

As Autumn-Storm helps Alptraum down to a sitting position on the hard floor, one of the priestesses – a dark brown bat with raven black hair – stops to look at the white-haired, black-furred bat. She wears simple robes of a cut similar to that of the Yodh, but without such extravagant use of cloth and trim. About her neck is a pendant with an icon on it – a rune – the rune, Alptraum recognizes, of a lesser, forbidden deity, Rinala. "Yes," she says, hastily. "You may stay. What is your injury?" She has a look on her face that seems to suggest that if it's anything less than life-threatening, she's about to move on to someone else.

"Not certain. Survived an attack on the Tower – torn up by some insects. Might be poisoned," Alptraum manages to say. He looks up at the bat, trying to look into her eyes, the adds, "It's getting worse as time passes as well. Can barely walk."

The priestess shakes her head. "More of them? Oh, how many people have died this day because of this … " She cuts herself off, and turns to examine Alptraum. "Hold still. This will hurt a little bit… "

Alptraum smiles weakly and says, "Hurt when it happened. Hurt when my friend had to cut a bug from my side. I'll be all right." he lets his body relax where he sits, breathing slowly.

The priestess nods, smiling weakly, then begins asking Alptraum several questions – or, rather, asking Autumn-Storm, but Alptraum has to translate. She finds the wound, and applies a small leech-like larva to the wound to draw some of the blood (This is very painful), applies some ointments (even more painful), and then redresses the wound, and gives Alptraum some crushed herbs to chew (which isn't painful, but it sure doesn't taste good). "It is fortune for you that you are not the first to suffer from this," the priestess says, at last, "for I have little time to make diagnoses. Rinala bless you, and may you show your thanks by not speaking of this hospice to those who would not appreciate its existence." She rises, looking wearily at several new patients being pulled in.

"I know. I won't mention this place to anyone. Thank you for helping me," Alptraum manages to say. He thinks for a moment, then asks, "Do you know of any places that would take in, ah, children? No questions asked?"

The priestess turns back to Alptraum, frowning. "These days, there are precious few of those that any child would wish to be taken in to."

"Avralie, I suppose so," Alptraum replies. "How long, do you think, will it take for me to get well enough to move on? I don't want to be a burden."

"Under your own power, I think you should need a night's rest," the priestess says. "But if you have need to move quickly, and friends to help you, you should be safe enough to journey. The poison will cause you no more trouble. It is only the fatigue inflicted on your body so far that you need worry about now." And then, she rushes off to help in a bloodied man who just dragged himself in – even as he as much as waves off her ministrations, to indicate a wounded child that he's carrying, who needs the attention even more.

Alptraum turns himself some to look at the child from here. "Even the children were hurt. At least some people here care. First I've ever seen in Babel," he thinks. He then signs to Autumn-Storm, "Should I fall asleep, don't let them remove my bandana. My appearance would cause – problems."

Autumn-Storm nods, and shifts Alptraum a bit so he can lean back against a wall. The mutant creature accompanying them just stands as if at attention – but this is conspicuous enough that Autumn-Storm pulls him down and makes him sit as well. "So, what next?" Autumn-Storm signs. "I think I'm on my own now."

"I'm not really certain. I need to find some place for this kid. I can't really take him in. I'd ask those here to, but I'm not sure what they would make of him," Alptraum signs, then calls over to the priestess, "Will the child be okay? What happened?"

With all the noise and commotion, and the milling about of the priestesses and those vying for their attention, if the priestess hears Alptraum, she isn't taking a break to answer his questions as she does her work.

Alptraum looks over to the strange creature beside them, then asks, "Do you understand me?"

The creature turns back to look at Alptraum, then solemnly nods. Meanwhile, Alptraum's interrupted by a rasping wheeze from his left. "What happened? I'll tell ya what happened! Rebellion at the Tower! A bunch of fellows calling themselves the Anchors have taken over, and they talk like they've gone and conquered all of Babel! Heh. Like it'd make any difference who's in charge of this wreck anyway."

Alptraum turns to look for the voice, asking, "What happened to the General, then?"

The bat to Alptraum's left has a mercenary look to him, dressed in a mish-mash of studded leather and chitin pieces, mixed with a great deal of bandaging at the moment. "Tucked tail and ran off, he did," the mercenary says, making to spit on the floor for emphasis, though a sharp look from a nurse prompts him to reconsider.

"What about you, then? Where you there? You look like a fighter of sorts," Alptraum asks.

"What am I? Unemployed, now," the mercenary says. "I was part of Morgan's Men, protecting the Quadrant Tower, but that got caught up in the fighting. All the shops are burned out, and so far as I know, Morgan's Men is now Morgan's Man, and minus Morgan at that. Ah, well, I'd be Cyrus, if you care to know my name. Pardon me if I don't shake hands. I've only got one left, and it's not in such good shape at the moment."

"I'm Alptraum," Alptraum offers in response. He then shakes his head and sighs, "This is horrid. How can people treat each other like this? Haven't people here suffered enough? What has all this accomplished? Just more death."

The mercenary shrugs. "No, it'll probably do more than that. The way I hear it, the Anchors are loyal to Rephidim. If they've got hold of the Tower, well … that's bound to tip things a bit. I always figured that Rephidim wasn't going to invade us, out of fear of someone pulling a bunch of things nastier than Plaguebringers out of the Tower if they did … but now, hey, if they as much as own the Tower … I guess we'll be looking at a change of management, huh?"

"I hope not," Alptraum says and looks down. "Rephidim's already attempted to kill me once," he adds with a sigh. "I know things are bad here now, but we should be a free people. Not – imprisoned by them."

"Well, there's not much I can do about it anymore," Cyrus says. "I've lost a good deal trying to stay free. To be perfectly honest, slavery has a certain appeal to it past a certain point. At least then someone has a vested interest in keeping you alive."

"If you say so," Alptraum replies with a shrug. "I didn't travel near halfway around the world, to see Babel fall now. I was … " Alptraum stops then shakes his head. "Doesn't matter."

The mercenary just grunts and leans back against his portion of the wall again. Meanwhile, a murmur goes through the room, punctuated by an alarmed cry. "The Yodh! The Yodh are nearby!" a young girl cries. The alarm is contagious, and some of the patients are so alarmed as to flee the hospice immediately. A good many of them are more reserved (and some of them simply take advantage of the newly freed spaces to improve their lot, however slightly, with a better place to sit or recline).

"Please, everyone, stay calm!" one of the priestesses says. "There is no need to be alarmed."

"Why am I not surprised?" Alptraum wonders, then struggles to his feet. "I have to get out of here. Autumn-Storm, we have to go," he rasps.

Autumn-Storm rises, helping the mutant child up as well. Meanwhile, Alptraum catches a few snippets: "A Yodhrephath ship passed by, heading toward the Coalition Tower … and then some Yodhgorphat flew by! Acolyte Rista was trying to assist the wounded, and somehow they were suspicious of her, and detained her! I got away … but she's young and inexperienced. She might tell them about the Hospice!"

Alptraum winces. "You'd all better evacuate, then. If they're coming this way, I might be able to delay the Yodh," Alptraum says, taking several deep breaths to try and regain strength.

Alptraum's words are among the many words flying about, and the priestesses apparently have no particular reason to respect him as having any more authority than any other random person laid up in the hospice. Still, it looks as if evacuation may already be on their minds – just something a little more orderly than a panicked mass expulsion from the ruined tower. Autumn-Storm supports Alptraum a little more. While he does feel a bit better after the treatment, he doesn't feel any less exhausted or sore. (He just doesn't feel like he's going to die. Not due to bug poison, at least.)

"The Yodh will destroy this place. This is a forbidden religion," Alptraum tells Autumn-Storm. "If we're caught here, we're dead. They're dead. It's wrong. They help people, they shouldn't be made to suffer," He takes in another deep breath, then pulls off his bandana and lets his white hair fall free. "Listen, I know some of them. If they perhaps find me some distance from here, it may buy you time to escape," Alptraum says, realizing the risk he's taking.

"Oh, gods! It's him!" someone cries, and that about sums up a lot of the reactions, as puzzled looks give way to realization once the idea gets around. "He must have led them here!" someone hisses, and the thought appears to be on the minds of several others as well.

The priestess that tended Alptraum's wounds earlier steps through the confused gathering, toward him. "Why are you here, and why would you help us?"

"What do you mean – him? I lead no one here," Alptraum replies as quickly as he can. "And why would I help you? Why do you help people? Just because it's the right thing to do. You bring comfort to those in need. That is no crime – not to me. If they find me a ways from this place, I bet it would delay them and buy you time."

The priestess mulls this over, then asks, "Do you require help, to carry you out, then?"

"Autumn-Storm and I can make it out, I think. You'd just better get what you can and go. I'll try to slow them as best I can. If anyone asks, I only met one person down here who bandaged me, and I didn't get a name," Alptraum answers. "And … thank you for helping these people. Whether the Yodh like it or not, Babel needs you."

The priestess gives Alptraum a puzzled look for a moment, but then she bows her head. "Thank you," she says at last, though it sounds as if she is uncertain what to say at all, and whether those words are appropriate. "May … may Rinala smile on your endeavors." And with that blessing, the priestesses waste no time in going about the business of tending to the patients – and moving them in orderly fashion out of the hospice.

"And may she look over you," Alptraum replies, smiling weakly. "Autmn-Storm, We've got to get a good distance away from this place, but somewhere pretty visible. I want them to find me, not the people here," Alptraum signs, "Stay close to me, and I think you should be safe. You are my friend, and you helped save me. That should mean something to them."

"If it doesn't," Autumn-Storm signs, "I can run pretty fast." She smirks. "What about the … ah … kid?" She gestures toward their strange little companion in the rags.

"Bring him, er, it. That particular type of creature is supposed to be related to Sunala, after all. Maybe the Yodh will know something about it," Alptraum signs in response.

Autumn-Storm shrugs. "I guess we'll hope it works out for the best." She sighs, and puts her arm back around Alptraum, pointing with the other toward the staircase … then waving to the "kid" to follow. He obeys, unquestioningly, falling in behind the cheetah and bat.

"I really hope this works." Alptraum thinks. He leans his weight upon the cheetah and walks steadily, trying to move as quickly as he can.

On a ruined platform joined by cracked buttresses to several ungainly looking towers, Alptraum encounters a small group of Yodhgorphat … and one acolyte of Rinala in their number. Is some sort of interrogation going on? It's not clear, but across the platform, Alptraum can hear from their voices that they're very agitated about something.

"What is going on?" Alptraum manages to call out. He leans a bit more heavily on Autumn, trying to look weaker than he currently feels and continues toward the Yodhgorphat.

"Alptraum?" comes a puzzled voice from the small group, which Alptraum immediately recognizes as Phlagaea's. A couple of the priestesses step back and turn to face the newcomers, parting enough that he can see a sickly-looking (if plump) female priestess lying on the stonework, with the acolyte of Rinala leaning over her. The acolyte's eyes are running with tears, and she wipes at them as she looks up briefly at Alptraum, then returns to whatever it is she's doing … which looks like ministrations.

Alptraum continues heading toward them and whispers to Autumn-Storm, "I know one of them. I hope I can prevent them from harming the girl." He then calls out, "It's me, Phlagaea, I got caught in the aftermath of the Tower attack. I was fortunate than an old friend was with me and able to pull me out of danger. What's going on? Is someone hurt?"

As Alptraum approaches, Phlagaea walks over to him. In a low tone, she says, "This girl is a servant of Rinala. Do not strike out at her in anger – although she serves a forbidden aspect, she is also a healer, and she is tending to High Priestess Cessteria, who has fallen into weakness during our rush to the Coalition Tower. Vizier Thath himself has sent out a summons to the Temples, that we should convene in an emergency session. The Tower of Babel has fallen!"

"I know. I was there," Alptraum replies. "And she is in no danger from me, do not worry. Babel needs healers more than ever right now."

"Yes, well, right now we're making it very clear that if she doesn't help Cessteria, she won't be helping anyone at all," Phlagaea says. "The High Priestess hasn't been out of her bed in … ages. But Thath insisted that the leaders of all the temples must come, because the decisions that must be made will affect all of Babel – and no one should trust these decisions to a subordinate. I don't know just what decision he's talking about, but it must be terribly severe."

"He may be suggesting we surrender to Rephidim, or he may be suggesting we fight," Alptraum says. "My guess is surrender, to be honest." Alptraum sighs, then looks back toward the acolyte and asks Phlagaea, "What will happen to her when she is done?"

Phlagaea opens her mouth, then closes it again. "I guess we hadn't planned that far. I suppose if she flies off before we decide, we can't be held accountable for letting a heretic escape, but if she sticks around… "

"We just have to make sure she flies off. I think I know how to handle that," Alptraum says, craning his neck some on the platform to make a guess as to how far down a drop it is from here.

There are plenty of jutting obstacles sticking out here and there, but just as many pitfalls that would guarantee a fatal drop if one didn't have wings (or didn't have the use of them). Fortunately, Alptraum didn't have to climb such distances to get here, as this platform is roughly the same elevation as the hospice.

"So, who are these two?" Phlagaea asks, nodding toward Alptraum's companions.

"Autumn-Storm is a friend from Sylvania. If it wasn't for her, I would have never made it to Babel in the first place. I would have never made it this far today if it wasn't for her, either," Alptraum answers, nodding toward the cheetah. "Autumn-Storm, this is Phlagaea, I told you about her." He then glances to the creature and says, "As for this one – well – he's from the Tower."

"He looks rather short to be from the Tower," Phlagaea says, raising an eyebrow as she regards the ragged creature.

"Well, I'm not sure it is a he, to be honest," Alptraum says, then reaches over to lift back a bit of the disguise. "The General was up to something in the Tower, not sure if it was for good or bad, though."

Phlagaea's eyes go wide as she gets a better look at the hybrid creature, who seems one part bat-like Eeee, and another part … well … something else, strongly hinting of shelled skedat. The creature's eyes – if eyes those really be – are wide-set, seemingly displaced by the large helmet-like shell that dominates its skull. "Skekos!" Phlagaea exclaims. "A daemon!" She staggers backward.

Alptraum raises his hand quickly, letting the disguise fall back into place. "It's also a child. They were growing them in the Tower. I saved this one, because, well, it's a child. I couldn't let a child die in there," Alptraum says. "What can I say? Weirdness happens around me. I'm not sure if it understands me, or understands anything."

Phlagaea recovers a bit from her initial reaction, when the child fails to grow in size, rip out her throat, or any such other thing … but her fellow Yodhgorphat have pried their eyes away from the spectacle of the Yodhrinala tending to Cessteria, their eyes now firmly affixed on "Skekos."

The creature just stands there, at attention, as if a very small soldier awaiting orders.

Autumn-Storm frowns at the added attention, and – perhaps without even realizing it – puts a protective arm around the mutant child.

"He means no threat to any of us," Alptraum says, "Please, pay him no mind. How fares the High Priestess?"

"She'll live," the Yodhrinala promises, sniffling. "It's nothing, really."

"May we approach?" Alptraum asks.

"Nothing to you," the prone high priestess hisses in a near-gurgling voice, and then she turns her head to look at Alptraum with yellow eyes. "You may approach, Barsunala."

"I'll never be used to being called that. I'm not sure I should be called that," Alptraum tells Phlagaea, then nudges Autumn-Storm to help him walk forward. "Keep the kid close. I don't want them hurting it," he whispers to the cheetah.

Autumn-Storm nods and holds the child tightly.

"Until Sunala Herself clarifies the issue," the high priestess says, "I shall not be guilty of blasphemy for assuming, what with all the honor you are given at the temple. It would be an honest mistake to make, don't you think?" She tries to smirk, but instead falls into a coughing and hacking fit. The Yodhrinala turns her onto her side, so she can cough up what it is she's choking on, and then wipes at her mouth with a cloth.

"I simply mean I thought it was reserved for the Priesthood, High Priestess," Alptraum answers. "Though, in a literal meaning, I suppose it does fit." He then looks at the Yodhrinala and asks, "What happened to her? Will she be able to make it to the Coalition?"

"If I had the luxury," Acolyte Rista says, "I would prescribe a treatment, and confine her to quarters until she is well enough to undergo further ministrations … but, yes, she will be able to make it to the Coalition Tower."

Alptraum nods at that. "When will she be capable of travel, then? It is not safe out here," Alptraum asks next.

"We'll carry her," one of the Yodhgorphat says, with a certain air of distaste. (The Yodhgorphat, after all, aren't known to be fond of physical exertion.) "It's no concern of yours. You should go tend to your Lady. She should be coming along soon, I suppose, unless She wishes to be fashionably late."

Alptraum waves a hand slightly and replies, "I cannot fly right now and be of any aid to Her. I will have to walk and meet up with the Yodhsunala at the Coalition. However, it does leave the question of the Yodhrinala, and I think that I should handle, yes?"

Cessteria laughs. "How appropriate! Yes, I will leave that concern to you, then." The Yodhgorphat start to move in to lift her up, while the acolyte staggers back, looking at Alptraum with new fear in her eyes.

Phlagaea brushes Alptraum's arm, whispering in his ear, "Very diplomatic of you! I'll see you later… "

"I will, of course, wait until you are clear to deal with the unpleasantness, High Priestess," Alptraum replies firmly, then nods slightly at Phlagaea's comment.

Cessteria laughs unpleasantly, as she's carried off by the grunting and straining high priestesses. (Such is the poverty of their temple as of late, that the priestesses themselves have to carry their mistress, rather than having servants to do the honors. They even seem to have lost their 'cheerleaders' at some point as well.) Phlagaea gives Alptraum a parting smile, then heads off to join the others as they flit off toward the Coalition Tower.

Alptraum turns to look at the Yodhrinala, silver eyes intense. As the Yodhgorphat finally fade from view, he cracks a small smile and says, "Okay, I'm glad they're gone. It makes this much easier than I first thought. I hope they didn't hurt you?"

"What," the acolyte says, in a bitter, wavering voice, "so you can have the honor?" She wipes at her eyes. "I'm not afraid to die … but I do not accept it with the wild abandon that your people do."

Alptraum pats Autumn-Storm's shoulder, then crouches down to rest. "You're in no danger from me, Rista," Alptraum replies, looking tired. "I had to make them believe you would be 'dealt' with by me. It's easier to save you, if they're not around, avralie?"

Rista looks back to Alptraum with surprise evident in her eyes. "But … but you're … "

"totally harmless!" Autumn-Storm signs, though Rista evidences no understanding of her hand-waving.

"The son of the Srinala? Child of Sunala? Avralie," Alptraum answers. "I don't want to hurt you, nor do I bear any ill will toward you. You are helping Babel, and that's all that matters to me. Besides, do I look like I have the strength right now to be a threat to anyone? Your friends are very worried about you, by the way."

Rista bows. "Thank you. I will go to them, with your leave."

"They evacuated, but I suspect you can find them. One moment, if you please," Alptraum says, looking up.

"Yes?" Rista asks, hesitantly.

"What is said about me out here? It seems many people know of me. The ones at the Hospice knew of me, at least," Alptraum asks. "So, please humor me and talk to me a bit?"

The acolyte looks totally taken aback at this, momentarily glancing to Alptraum's companions, then back to him again. "About … well … you … you're someone important. Some say the Son of Sunala. Or … a male priest … or something else that hardly makes any sense, though I mean no offense by it. Nobody knows quite what to make of you. So many people wonder at what it might mean, and they expect the Temple of Sunala to make some sort of announcement, but it never comes."

"Well, I don't know what any of it means either. I am the child of a Srinala, however that was possible," Alptraum replies. "So, what is this 'something else that hardly makes any sense'?"

"That you might be a lesser god, or a reincarnation of some hero, or a spirit being… There is no end to the number of hypotheses, I am certain, that have floated about now or then," Rista says. "Why do you ask? Rumors should be of little concern to he who knows the truth."

Alptraum laughs at that and shakes his head. "Because I don't know either," Alptraum replies. "I was raised in isolation, knowing nothing of this place. I always seemed to be a little different, what with silver eyes and all, but it was just appearance. Strange things do happen around me. But, I don't know how to control it, or if I even can. I'm just … trying to understand. To find my place in all this, I guess."

Acolyte Rista smiles faintly. "It's a relief to know that … well … I … I'm not sure what to say to that, to be honest. You are not what I expected at all."

"Now, that I've heard before," Alptraum replies with a grin. "Sorry your Hospice had to evacuate. They were afraid that they were found out. I came out this way to try and delay the Yodh some to give them more time. I guess I should let you go, and I should make my way to the Coalition and find out what Thath is up to." Alptraum gets up, albeit shakily, and stretches, then adds, "Take care of yourself, and be a bit more careful. Babel needs more kindness in it and it would be a shame to lose you. People like you are why I still find reason to try and save Babel."

Rista bows again. "I will be more careful, yes. May Rinala keep – " Her ears blush. "I … I do not mean any offense by a blessing."

"It would not offend me," Alptraum says, then bows back. "Thank you for helping people."

"May Rinala keep you and yours, then," Rista says. "With your leave, I should help my sisters. If they are evacuating the hospice … that will cause considerable distress to the patients." She frowns.

"Well, if the location hasn't been revealed, you can just halt the evacuation. You'd best hurry. Its location will remain secret with me," Alptraum replies, then waves.

Rista smiles back, then snaps out her wings and takes flight.

"That turned out better than I expected," Autumn-Storm signs.

Alptraum drapes his arm around Autumn-Storm's shoulder and says with a grin, "Do my plans ever fail?" He then smirks and adds, "No, don't answer that."