[three_fourth]
Rain had left the mists to wander. He, however, had not left in turn. Instead, he decided not to reside in Quinland with a physical form. Rain had chosen to see the world outside of the Ruins of Quinhalla and away from Nightfall, as a spirit invisible to anyone not attuned with spirits. The bulk of the people Rain ‘met’ were attuned to a different kind of spirit altogether, and Rain did not feel like being bottled.
While in Quarrel Falls Rain had heard of rumors of a new camp, to the north at water’s edge. Every map Rain had seen indicated that Bloodstone Fen was the northern limit. Perhaps a new road has been built? Rain would investigate, perhaps he could find something that would benefit the guild in their upcoming battles.
His trip to Bloodstone Fen was largely uneventful but the Men there told stories by the fire of an artifact held by indigenous peoples to the north. The stories involved this object known as the Lens of Dwayna, an object said to Amplify Holy Damage as if everyone were undead.
Rain’s intangible saw fell through the floor: ‘amplify holy damage?! I could beat Crysania for sure…’
Rain, as if it mattered, sat in the circle and listen to the Men’s tales about where this object was and how to get there.
Their stories varied widely in all details except two: it was north and a camp has been established at water’s edge.
That was good enough for Rain, he would walk north and see what happened.
The Days dragged on, and Rain saw nothing but jungle. Rain didn’t even see anything charmable.
‘Nyx would be disappointed but I’ll just not say anything’ he spoke to himself.
Rain kept walking, unsure if he was even going the right direction.
Rain started making up names for the various plants and colors he saw.
Rain even tried singing to himself: I am the very model of a scientist salarian, I’ve studied species turian, asari, and batarian. I’m quite good at genetics (as a subset of biology) because I am an expert (which I know is a tautology). My xenoscience studies range from urban to agrarian, I am the very model of a scientist salarian.
Then he saw it! He saw a building that was making noise!
Rain rushed over to it only to find that it is little more than a bar…on a beach.
“Water’s Edge” he grumbled loudly.
Rain put his hand through the door trying to open it, out of habit.
Inside, Rain found quite a few people, all human males attempting to disappear into the bottoms of their glass.
Rain: Wow. Look at all these wastes of talent. All around the room, including –
Rain found himself given corporeal form.
-this asshole right here.
A well built man, with a clearly used hammer on his bank, slung around off his stool to tower over Rain.
Man: Excuse me?
An equally large man in the back clapped joyfully, knocking over his immense longbow.
Man: –I– am Sir Patrick Riot, Knight Commander of the Order of the Krytan Empire [KKE].
Bar Patron 1: Great, now the patriot is angered. We’ll have to make more stools.
Rain: KKE? You’re 5-6 letters away from a hate group.
The large man in the back continues clapping and cheering.
Sir Patrick Riot “the patriot” unslings his hammer and begins approaching Rain, who reverted back to spirit form.
Rain: Wonderful time for someone to come back into Quinland. I bet it was Razy, and I bet she did it on purpose.
Patrick: Show yourself!
Man in the back: He’s right there!
Patrick looks quickly, sees nothing.
Man in the back: He’s right there!
Patrick: Hush, Simon.
Simon: There!!!
Patrick ignores Simon and barges out the front door, flattening a smaller patron in the process.
Patrick roars: You will live to regret this, and you will not have the Lens!
Rain, sitting next to Simon, perks up at the news that the Lens is not just a jungle tale.
Patrick comes back in, slings his hammer, and grumbles loudly.
Simon: Simon says There!
The whole bar stops and looks to see Simon pointing at the empty stool next to him.
Patrick: Simon? Are you feeling ok?
Simon: Simon Says Yes.
Rain leans over to Simon and whispers: Simon Says Quin.
Simon echoes: Simon says Quin?
A patron in the corner leaps up, sword drawn: The Quin?! Here?! I’ll Kill ‘em! …and by ‘them’ I mean very low level henchman…I should go.
The patron drops some gold on the table and leaves in a hurry.
Patrick turns back to Simon, to see Rain become corporeal again.
Rain paled: Parley?
Patrick shook his head: Not way out here.
Rain paled further: Not good?
Patrick nodded his head: I don’t like being made a fool of.
Simon stared at Rain in amazement.
Patrick: I believe you’ve met my friend Simon ‘Diceroll’ Boonbane.
Rain asked: Diceroll?
Patrick sighed: Yes. Broad Head Arrow accident. He’s a little quirky now. You, my little friend, are about to become just plain little.
Rain faded back into spirit form.
Rain: Dafuq? They need to pick one and leave for a while. This isn’t the best time.
Simon: Who’s they?
Rain stared at Simon: You can hear me?
Simon nods happily.
Patrick: Who are you talking to?
Simon points to the empty stool, that spirit Rain is sitting on.
Patrick unslings his hammer and swings at Rain as fast as he can.
Rain lets out a yell and falls backwards through the wall.
Simon claps and laughs innocently.
Patrick: What’s so funny?
Simon: He went through the wall!
Patrick sighs and returns to his barstool.
Simon: Wall!
He gets ignored.
Simon stands up and grabs his bow: SIMON SAYS WALL!
Patrick puts his drink down: Fine. He disappeared and went through the wall. Happy?
Simon nods and sits back down.
Rain takes his stool back.
Simon, unphased, asks: How you able stool sit on, but wall fall through?
Rain realizes that Simon is right and falls through the stool to sit on the floor.
Simon claps gleefully.
Rain: I guess I forget I’m a spirit?
Simon: You spirit?
Annoyed Patron 2: Yes! That’s Elonian Vodka.
Patron 3: I don’t think he’s talking to his glass this time.
Rain: Sometimes. My name is Rain.
Simon: Rain!
Patron 4: No, not Rain, Vodka.
Patrick: Hush, Simon. You’re getting excited.
Rain: What’s wrong with excitement?
Simon: Words up mixed, less sense make usual than.
Rain: I know a guy who does that sometimes too.
Simon: Who? Who? Who? Who? Who? Who? Who?
Patron 3: Your mom.
Simon, in amazing speed grabs his bow, an arrow and let’s fly: SIMON SAYS DIE!
Rain was able to see the arrow pierce the Patron between the eyes with enough force to knock him backwards, not getting any blood on the table that others were eating on.
Rain: …that was amazing…
Patrick: Another One, Simon?
Rain: His name is Spike Baltrihper.
Simon: Spike here meet now?
Patrick: Here it comes…
Rain: No, I’ll show you sometime later.
Simon cheers: Frankly, my dear, life was like a box of chocolates.
Patron 7 spits his drink all over Patron 8.
Rain: What?
Simon appears visibly flustered: Of all the gin joins in all the towns in all the world, I could dance with you till the cows come home.
Rain starts laughing, along with half the bar.
Simon grumbles and tries again: Would you be shocked if I put on something more I’ll be back?
Most of the bar, other than Patrick, is rolling around laughing.
Simon can’t help but laugh at himself too.
Rain: You just get all jumbled? That’s funny.
Simon pouts at himself.
Rain: I mean it! It’s funny. Don’t be sad.
Simon: All these moments will be lost in time like tears in Rain. Hasta la Vista, Baby.
Rain: aaaww… you said Rain!
Simon perks up: This conversation can serve no purpose anymore, Goodbye Mr. Bond.
Rain: Oh… I guess I’ll talk to you later.
Simon shakes his head: May the force be with you’re gonna need a bigger boat.
Patrick: Ok Simon, I think you’ve talked to the empty stool enough.
Rain: Are you just going to take that?
Simon nods: doesn’t like getting @#$%ed by anyone except Mrs. Wallace.
Even Patrick couldn’t help but laugh at that one.
Rain: So are you here for the Lens of Dwayna?
Simon nods excitedly: If you build it, we rob banks.
Rain: Where is it?
Simon points west: Round up the usual Houston, we have a problem.
Rain: Thanks Simon, I’m going to go check it out.
Simon waves: You can’t handle the stuff that dreams are made of.
Rain grumbles at Simon and disappears through the wall.
Rain heads west and Simon calms down.
Patrick sits where Rain sat and checked in with his old friend.
Simon: Name Rain, Lens Get.
Patrick: Are you sure?
Simon: Simon says west!
Patrick: Bottoms Up Gentlemen, we have someone trying to claim our prize!
Sir Patrick Riot and his krewe head west in pursuit of Rain, to ensure he fails where they failed.
A few hours West and Rain laid eyes upon a beautiful temple, un-touched from war and unknown to most of the world.
Rain approached the door when the guard stopped him: Halt! Her Majesty does not grant audiences to spirits.
Rain grumbles: @#$%ing Ritualists…
The guard smiles.
Rain sat outside the door as The Patriot and his krewe arrived.
The Guard Halted them: Her Majesty only grants audience to clean formations. You have 8. You need 9, 16, or 25.
Patrick: What? Since When?
Guard: Her Majesty does not tolerate dissent.
Patrick bows: Of course. I apologize.
Patron 2: We should have brought Simon.
Moments later Rain gained his body back.
Rain leapt to his feet: Quickly! I will be the 9th.
Patrick glared at him, but agreed.
The Temple doors opened, and the formation entered with purpose.
Rain: So how does one get the Lens?
Patron 2: Ask for it.
Rain: Really?
Patron 4: Yep. Stare into her majesty’s eyes and ask for it.
Rain smiled to himself, thinking ‘this will be easy’
The patrons smiled to themselves, knowing what lies ahead.
The 3×3 formation got on both hands and both knees, staring at the floor.
Rain thought the position was a little odd, even for showing respect to royalty.
A voice boomed into the room: Now Entering, Her Majesty Queen Droch.
Rain thought to himself: ‘Droch? Must be a tribal name.’
The Queen sat upon her throne, and in the most soothing voice Rain has ever heard, granted permission for the formation to gaze upon her.
Rain obeyed, but upon seeing the Queen, he could not help but vomit where he knelt.
Most of the room could be heard vomiting to the sound ‘DDDDRROOOCCCHHH’
The formation, bowed backs and open mouths, was painful to see, hear, and …smell.
Rain gathered himself from the confusion ‘ All I have to do is look at her and ask for it…’
Rain looked at her again, and again he vomited.
This high-pressure vomiting continued until the formation was too exhausted to do anything but kneel in silence.
The Queen spoke with such a sadness, a loneliness that Rain wanted to help. He dared not try now, but vowed to get Guild help. Surely Spike or Crysania could handle this.
Rain heard splashing sounds and groaning as the Queen walked away.
Patrick composed himself first: Another failure. Does anyone need a drink?
Rain then understood why the camp was a bar.
Halfway through the trip home, Rain lost his corporeal form.
On the way back to the bar, Simon was attempting to shoot something in the general direction of everyone walking.
Simon: Die!
No one flinched.
Simon: Die!!
Nothing.
Simon: Simon says die!
Everyone was on the ground, taking cover, including Patrick.
Simon, barely visible, had managed to take down a Bandit who had travelled near the group for some time with little more than a longbow and a shout.
Rain, still standing, was beginning to understand the ‘diceroll’ name. What he says and does is up to sheer luck I suppose.
Other bandits, friend of the first, leapt from the bushes in attack. The first had his face flattened by Patrick and the second knocked-down in one fluid set of attacking arcs. They quickly fled or were defeated, and Rain thought that the two might fit in around Quinland.
They caught up with Simon and the bartender was already pouring.
Rain said his farewells to Simon with intention to return, perhaps someone that could help with the Queen.
Simon, waving: Fasten your seatbelts; I’m ready for my closeup!
Rain: What we’ve got here is failure to communicate.
Simon shakes his head: Love means never having to say I love the smell of napalm in the morning.
Rain laughs again and begins his trek back to Quinland, or at least his body so he can Map Travel.
[/three_fourth]
[one_fourth_last]
Episode 49
24 Apr 2011
Notes: Full references to be added soon.
References: Guild History
[/one_fourth_last]