"Thanks, Magda," Tarva said to the dwarf. After they'd reported the events at the Ashenwood to a trio of very surprised – and considerably more polite – witches, they'd whisked the troupe of actors back to the Veil. Despite being somewhat unsettled by the whole experience, Magda had been more than helpful, telling them what she knew of Lienna, and of the red woman – Thayan, she thought - she'd seen no more than thrice. The conversation regarding the crude operating table they'd found had been a little awkward; the actors all remembered the blood soaked white robe.

"Your blood?" one of the men interrupted. "Magda, what if Lienna... what if we've been harbouring some kind of mad vivisectionist?"

"You hold your tongue! And quit eavesdropping!"

Tarva's lips twitched. "Speaking as the party most concerned, I think she was more of a sane vivisectionist."

"Please don't encourage them," Magda sighed. "It's hard enough keeping this bunch in control as it is. I'll bet Vesper's already scribbling some daft, blood-soaked tragedy that features pulling the still-beating heart out of a person."

The air genasi in question looked up from his loose bits of parchment. "Well, we've already got the perfect prop –"

"No!"

"If I might suggest an alternate theme," Gann said, a pleasing idea blossoming in his head, "I suggest a grand performance of "The Dreamwalker of Rashemen", the story of a wild, unpredictable, breathtakingly-handsome spirit, who wanders the land and the dreams of its people – especially the daughters of farmers ripened into womanhood."

"Well, there you are, Okku," Safiya said behind him. "It is possible to stoke Gann's vanity further. I'm surprised both he and his ego can fit in the same room." The bear shook his ponderous head.

"'Breath-takingly handsome?'" Tarva said. "I wonder why you didn't also mention 'terrifyingly humble.'"

"Oh, no," Gann said, and smirked at her. Finally, an exchange he'd win. "It would hardly have been befitting to boast of humility, would it?"

"Hmmm..." Magda motioned Vesper over. "That might indeed be a play with meat on its bones."

"But one must ask why the dreamwalker wanders." The genasi chewed on the end of his quill. "There must be some motivation, some purpose to his movements."

"Why, for adventure," Gann said. "The siren call of the open road, the thrill of discovery in each dreaming mind..."

Magda shook her head. "A little flimsy. It might do on the surface, perhaps, but we strive for something deeper at the Veil. Our dreamwalker does not seem a being without choices – so why would he not choose some more exotic locale than Rashemen, or some loftier, stranger goal than the mere seduction of farmers' daughters?"

"I don't know..." one of the men said, and sidled up to Kaelyn. The cleric looked at him with mild surprise. "Some of the women around Mulsantir are toothsome morsels indeed."

"Leave the angel alone, you lecherous rogue," Magda snapped.

"Jealous, sweet Magda?" he asked, but desisted.

"I swear, if I take my eye from them for even a moment..."

"Believe me, I understand," Tarva said, and cast a sly look over her shoulder. "This lot is bad enough –"

"Come now-" Gann protested.

"- but the group I travelled with before were much, much worse."

Magda sighed. "Vesper, where were we?"

The playwright lifted his glowing blue eyes from his notes. "Why does our dreamwalker wander Rashemen?"

"Ah, yes," Magda said. "We need something to add to the drama. Perhaps... perhaps he runs from something?"

Now, that was just insulting. "Runs? A hero such as he?" Gann could sense, more than see, Safiya behind him with her hand over her mouth and her shoulders shaking. There was a deep rumble from Okku; even the bear was laughing at him. He turned to Tarva, who he'd only heard laugh once and mean it. Surely she would not - well, she wasn't laughing, but there was a spark in her eyes that was almost as bad.

That only left Kaelyn, of his faithful companions, who seemed to have little grasp of humour to begin with, and probably didn't understand that this 'Dreamwalker of Rashemen' was him anyway. He never would have thought her inability to grasp anything more than a surface meaning of things would prove a comfort.

"He does not run," Gann said. They wanted drama? He could provide that. "He is an exile, forced to wander the land." There was a moment of silence, broken only by the scratching of Vesper's quill. Gann could feel Safiya and Okku looking at him and ignored them; the mocking light had died from Tarva's eyes.

"Yes, that could work," Magda said, and the look in her eyes was entirely too knowing, for a moment. "The laws drive him out, and so he wanders, living a life of fantasy and whimsy. The chaos in him rebels against his exile and the laws, the order that demanded it – but what could symbolise such order?"

"A city? A king?" Vesper suggested. "It worked in Ranger Green-Hood."

"Which we staged just last month. Besides, I think our dreamwalker would find some comfort in a city. We need something more structured, more confining – at least seemingly."

Really? These thespians had some strange ideas. A town full of narrow-minded, humourless Rashemi sounded about as unpleasant and confining as Gann would be willing to tolerate for any great length of time – and even then, only because he could wander at will through their dreams.

"I think we need something more... intimate," Magda said thoughtfully.

"Ah," Gann said. "Now we are back on track."

"Of course!" Vesper said, scribbling away madly. "I see it now – let's change tack a little. What about a family?"

"We haven't got the cast members," Magda said, as Gann stared at her and the genasi, almost horror-struck. What were they doing?

"True... actually, we don't need them. If we use a variant of the Silk sub-plot from The Godslayer -"

"-then we only need one other. Yes, that would work, Vesper. He walks into the dreams of lonely farmers' daughters. He wanders alone. He believes he prefers it that way, but what would he do when someone walks into his dreams and subtly ensnares his heart?"

"He runs from that intimacy, from that confinement, yet, deep down, he seeks it out as well..." Gann ran his hands through his hair in frustration – and the memory of Tarva untangling its knots suddenly intruded. He banished it mercilessly.

"Gannayev?" the soft voice of the Dove spoke up unexpectedly. "Are you all right? You seem uncomfortable."

"Thank you for your concern, Kaelyn," Gann managed to say through gritted teeth. Trust the priestess with the piercing eyes to interject the accurate, obvious observation at the worst possible moment. Okku wouldn't have noticed, and both Tarva and Safiya were possessed of some measure of tact, however small – but Kaelyn was another matter entirely. "I am merely mourning my poor, innocent suggestion, so unfeelingly murdered. Where is the amusement in such a play as these suggest?"

Magda thought about that for a moment. "Perhaps it is not amusing at all. Perhaps it is purely drama, or a tale of deathless romance. It may even be a tragedy. I suppose we'll see."

"I look forward to the performance," Safiya said, a little slyly. "Don't you, Tarva?"

"While I'm sure it will be a credit to your establishment, Magda, and your lead character seems interesting enough- " and that was the mildest compliment Gannayev-of-Dreams had ever been paid – "I've enough drama to deal with in reality without seeking out more."

"How disappointing," Safiya murmured. "Gann, aren't you disappointed?"

Gann refused to dignify that with any sort of answer.

-0-0-0-0-0—

Nightfall found them far from Mulsantir. "Not that I'm complaining, you understand," Safiya said, "but more than one night in a proper bed would have been nice."

"You are soft, Red Wizard," Okku rumbled.

"Oh," Tarva said, and pushed her hair off her forehead. "I didn't think...Why didn't you say something?"

"It matters little," Kaelyn said. "We understand your need for answers is pressing."

Tarva sighed. "Not so urgent that one night's delay is likely to matter. Please mention it next time. Hit me over the head and tell me I'm being a slavedriver, if it's necessary."

"I have already expressed my opinion of such a tactic, given the thickness of your skull," Gann added, as they began to set up camp for the night.

Some time later, when Kaelyn was gathering firewood, Tarva and Okku were deep in what seemed a rather serious conversation. She seemed to be asking something of the bear that he was reluctant to grant. Gann caught the word 'kill', before he took Safiya aside.

"Do you have any ethical objections to casting a harmless – even beneficial – spell on someone without their consent?"

"Gann, I'm a Red Wizard. We don't do ethical objections. What do you need?"

"Do you have a Sleep spell prepared?"

Safiya nodded, and her eyes turned to the half-elf, who was leaning against Okku now. "For her?"

"Yes," Gann said.

"Because you believe she would otherwise refuse to rest, or simply because you wish to walk her dreams?"

"Why not both?" he said. "Why must a person have only one motive for an act?"

Safiya laughed softly. "Well. I shall do as you ask. I do have one question, though."

"What a strange coincidence. As it happens, I find myself in the possession of several answers. I cannot, however, guarantee that I have the one you seek."

The Red Wizard ignored that, and looked at him seriously. "Exiled, Gann?"

Ah. He could evade that question, but to what purpose? They travelled towards the Slumbering Coven and their city beneath the waves even now. He shrugged and gave her the truth. "I believe so."

Kaelyn returned with her firewood, and the evening proceeded much as usual. Okku volunteered to watch the first half of the night. Gann was watching for it, but even so, he didn't see Safiya release the spell. In one moment, Tarva gazed upward at the star-strewn sky; in the next, her eyes were closed, and the subtle tension of one who fought every waking moment was relaxed. Gann followed her into the dream...