HUUGE WALL O' TEXT! I've been sick and behind and tired and haven't updated in a blue moon, so here's everything I've written since the last post. It's ... um. It's a lot. Grab a chair.

On the one hand, Charlie was so hung over that he wasn’t likely to attack Lord Squigglebottom Fancypants if he was force-fed raw eggs in milk. On the other hand, Someone was certainly not on the same ohysical par as Charlie, at least at first glance; however, elves had a way to I mean of exceeding excpectations, ecpesially in the arena of physical strength, and Sopmeone had already demonstrated his erraticness with his crazy popping up and down and his pitiful little need for coffee. (lord Squigglebottom Fancypants had nothing bt scorn for those who had addictions. He explained away his obsessive need to drink humans’ blood with the excuse that hunger didn’t count as an addiction. The fact that he was dead and didn’t need anything to stay alive was beside the point.) After a short period of deliberation, Lord Squigglebottom Fancypatns decided Charlie was the better mark, and he swirled the eggs and milk in the glass, saying, “Oh Charlie – how would you like something to help your heada—“

“COOFFFFFFEEEEEEEE!!!!!!” shouted Someone, and he shot up, snatched the glass out of Lprd Squigglebottom Fancypants’ hands (who was surprised, but smugly amused at this turn of events), and gulped down every drop of the odd, fake hang over remedy. When it was all gione, he stared at the glass in confusion and betrayed confusion, then looked up at Lord Squigglebottom Fancypants in utter disapprobation, reproach, and disappointment, saying, “That … wasn’t coffee.” He sat back, his headache ameliorated, but with the curious and rather unpleasant taste of egg and milk in his mouth. He dropped the cup on the bedspread, then slumped against the headboard, despondent. Lord Squigglebottom Fancypants could harldy stop himself from laughing, although everyone else in the room could hardly keep from weeping along with Someone, the pathos thick in the room. Finally, Lord Squigglebottom Fancypants decided to leave the four alone, thinking to himself that there was little more fun to be had with this bunch. As he closed the door, Someone picked up the glass again, filled it with milk, cracked two eggs into it, and moved over to Charlie. Something was possessing him to pull the same trick on Charlie that was played on him, perhaps because he wanted to make his bad mood a little better (he told himself it was because the weird combination actually worked somewhat, and he wanted to share with Cahrlie). He poked Charlie. “He,y Charlie,” he said. Charlie cracked open an eye.

“Wha … ? What is ift Somwone? Is Lord squigglewhatsisface fancy pants or whatever gone?”
---

“Yes, he’s gone,” said Someone, looking shifty eyed at the others in the room. Mr. Ian woon, while awake, was absorbed in self pity, and Polo appeared to be having a slient argument with himself that looked to be rather heated. That was fine with Someone, who was rather unexperienced with this whole treachery business. He really wasn’t sure why he was being so mean to Charlie at the moment. It was probably that Lord Squigglebottom Fancypants’ influence (or his raging headache). Someone nudged Charlie again, saying, “Come on Charlie. I have a dirnk for you. It should make you, er, feel better. Go ahead and drink it. Go on. COIME ON – I mean, it’s, um, nice. I, er, I had some too. Here it is.”

Charlie looked blearily at the glass, then at Someone. “Oh … kay … if you say so …” He took the glass in that cautious anner of people who atre tiresd enough or unaware en0ulugh of their surroundings that it is evident that they are concentrating very hard on one simple movement (though in Charlie’s case, he may have had to act like this all the time, and he wasn’t trying as hared to disguise it at the moment). He drank the potion quickely but carefully, attemption to avoid spilling any, as he was wont to do when preoccupied by amazing amount of hang over. [THIS IS SO BAD GUYS I AM SOO SORRY] He looked at the glass when he was done, then looked at Someone. “You need to put some oil and pepper in there,” he said in the same deliberate way. Then he flopped down on his bed and curled into a fetal ball. Someone looked at the glass, shrugged, and went back to his bed, suddenly attacked by pain from his hang over. Polo looked over them and shrugged before going back to his internal argument. It was going to be a slow morning.

****

Main woke up from his drugged slumber hopping mad. She drugged me! He thought. She tricked me! That old … biddy! How dare she treat me like that? And insinuating that I didn’t know when to stop! I am a prince! I am a swordsman! I know when I need to reast, and believe me when I say, lady, that I am in top form! I don’t need a woman telling me what to do! Without as admitting such to himself, he decided to do his best to jump I means escape this place as soon as he could. He sat up and began to scan the room, dark as it was, to rty and see if there an opportunity he could exploit. Scanning the room, he suddenly noticed a great, plush looking bed, that at the same time managed to look rather raggd and second rate. Without attempting to reconcile these two apparent conrtradiction , um er, he noticed that the dark skinned crazy woman appearaed to be in it, ostensibly sleeping. Main adecided to test this assumption by slowly slipping off the table, wincing once or twice when his stitches pulled oddly. When she didn’t move or change the noises she was making, main decided to maeke a run for it while he csitill could. He tiptoed to the door, opening the relatively simple rope lock easily and with minimal fubmbing, qand crept out, carefully pulling the lock through the door again to lock it, effectively making his escape untraceable. Main smirked, pleased at his victory, and turned fro the hut (which appearaed to be rather smaller on the outside than th inside, though Main rejected this as a silliy misconception) to the reset of the town.

It was not a large place, being centered around the road which extended past the town in both directions. However the variation between the businesses and buildings of on the road was rather astounding. To the north side oof the road, a busy marketplace thrived, with shops selling everything from second hand goods to wrought iron accessories from the blacksmith. To the westo of that, aseveral tenements, I mean a few residential buildings there are no temnements here, stioold, from humble wattle and daub residences like that the dark skinned herb wife’s oddly proportioned hut to srudy stone cottages, and even a few muliti story houses. It also appeared that there were a few shops withing theis residential area.
To the south, there was a reather shady area, which contained the hut Main had seescatped from ust a few seconds ago, and a number ot oft ovther rather run down businesses and residences. Seaparated from this area by a large building, probably th e local town hall or the plac of worcshilo (or both)Kandrie, there were a few myusterisous buildings, alwo large, that didn’t seem to serve any pruopose, as there were no indications that anyody inhabited, them, and they certainly didn’t seem to be places where anything was bought or soled. Main decided to go into that area, as it seemed the least shady and certainly the least likely place for him to e spotted and perhaps taken back to that two faced double crossing lunatic.
His mind makde up, Main turned to his right and headed west which incidentally happened to be the direction he was planning on heading in the first place, for it was the direction in which the wswarthy, deceptive overlods’ stronghold lay. Main didn’t take in to account his rather racist attitude at theat particular moment, tbut the fact remain ed that he was distrucstful fof anyone who did not fit his standerad s , however subconscious, or fof “goodness:”, which for him included the iappearance of a operson whith pakle skin. This was a rather unfair stipulation ion his part, wecspecially because his family was a relatively new addition ot the area, and as such had dramatically different apperaences from their subjects. KPniceplacesrs were known to have curly black hair, skin that ranged from swarth y to daownright dark, and rather … strong noses, while main’s family, the Characters, were renowned for their light skin, pretrernaturally straight berown hair, and the interesting penchant for growing antlers, a trai Main had inheridted from his father [I swear this was in his character description fro mthte beginning]. As he was rather fod of self decotration, main used his antlesrs for hanging a number of hats on, most of which were missing or trather battered from hsis misadventures in the forest. Remembering his hats suddenly (fo r he was not party to this frather unflattering revaelation about his character), Main felt atop his head, encountering only a rather abused gary fetl cap and a scrap of fur that was probably once a head ornament, but now only served as a warning to animals everywhere. He abruptly decided that it would be necessary to find himself some porper attire, his fashion sense ruling over his caution for the moment (for although he was begingging to tolerate a kilt, hanign suffered it for a while, and his bandages temoporarily fooled him into forgetting his lack of a shirt, which had been stolen you will remember by the enraged women who had bopped out of the questionably colored outhouse, heis lack of hats was , simply, unacceptable. Reaching in to the pocket sewn into the from not of his hkilt, (it ws designed to be worn with or without a belt purse), Main felt for his belt purse, whilck although ists was huge and heavy with copper, silver , and ever a few gold couins , failed to even make thie pocket bulged slighty; in fact, the kilt hung persfectly too, for all intents antd puporsedsdljk sfea kl adsf adsfk lkj completely devoid of enough coinage to purchase the contents of a medium sized cltothing store, or perhaps even an entire bakery, shop, ovens, and merchandise. Satisfied that he had enough money for a little warbdrobe revival, he crossesd the main road, wahich was paved with large , well fitted stones, his boots clicking in a determined and confident manner. He was slightly disappointed when he corossed to through a puddle, which muffled his steps somewhat; however, there was a very nice cobbled area that the market place faedced, which made quite satisfactory clacking noises when he wlaked his confident walk across it. He strode across the squreare, inspecting the various shops until he found one to his liking: a tailor who evidently knew his clientele (travelers who weren’t interested in waiting two weeks to have their clothing made) and had prefabricated clothing available tfor sale in the shop; in the manner of tailors everywhiere, Main awas sure that thie owner of this shop would be more than thappy to charge Main a little extra and fit them for him. He trode over to the door and opened it manfully, pleased that the door swumng open in a satisfactorially dramatic manner (which ws slightly dflated by the cheerful little tinke of a bell attached to the door to let the ttail or know when someone had entered his shop). Main immediately went to the tailor, unused to the concept of a shop in which one shopped before being served, and told him, “I want some clothes. What do you have in leather?”
The tailor looked at Main from his bench, where he was siting cross legged in what was known as sitting “tailor style”, hunched over a rather ornate looking dress (for as everyone knows, when one has a town larege enough, espercisally one that had a marketplace nice as this, had to have a noble family or several living enaerbly, and occasionnaly flouncing into town (the lords were especially notorious for hitsis), fiding craftspeople they condescended to patronize, and ordering extremely difficult to procure or create items, and flounced out of time I mean town again without a fare thee well) that he was sewing for the Duke of Dukington’s lovely (e.g. amazingly hideous) daughter (whome everyone suspected was actually a son who awas rather more addicted to flouncing than the rest). He gestured expansively around the shop. “See for yourself,” he said in a bored tome of voice. “My assistant will I manean my apprentice will fit them for you after you find garments to your liking. Please remember that although ewe are absolute experts at siizing a garment donwnw, we unfortunately cannot amake a garment bigger than it was originally sewn, so please be sure to get a garment that is the same or bigger than your acualy size.” Main gaped angrily at the man, who had already hunched over his fluffu dressa again and peering at hit in the actually rather good light issuing from the water magnified lanmpd and sunlight hcoming in from the unshuttered window. After a few moments of incredulity, Main decided toa all ow this insult to pass and huffily spun on his heel and headed to the nearest shelof, which appeared to have linien shirts stakced on it. If he wants me to look for m y own clothes, fine, he thought snippily. I’ll look for my own clothes, and Il’ll find your sniveling apprentice myself, and I will be th e most unobturusive thrice benighted customer your hole in the ewaiill shop has ever had! He sorted therough the shirt s snippily – these garments, at lesast, sididn’t really get fitted. Their point was to be large, baggy, and comfortable, and they managed this swimmingly. Main had only to find a shirt that was wide enough for his shoulders and had cuffs and a collar that fit will well without suffocating him or cutting off his circulatopon, while at the same time not gaping open at his neck and writst like he was some kind of skeletal, emaicatiated, pitiful little rcreature. After he found such a shirt in a pleasant shade of brown tan, with a high collar (important for another item of clothing that he had just remembered), he headed over to another set of shelves, looking for a pair of leahther trews. These, unlike the shirt, absolutely had to be fitted. Main was extremely proud of his legs (although they were a little on the skinny side, nobody could tell Main that) and insisted on weill fitted breeches in order that everyone could see them on display. Of course, he wasn’t uncouth – he always wore a proper tunic over his tight trews; it wasn’t proper to … reveal the family ewels to the world, as it were. This looseness and shapelyessness of the kilt was aontother reason whiy he detested it so much – it completely concealed the shape of his manly thights (which spported very nice quads, although again thery were’nt nearly as large as he imagined them to be), and made him look curious with his calves in his tall boots looking oddly small against the size of the man skirt. Finally, Main found the pants and stood antd stared trather shockedly.
They were the strangest pants the world had ever seen. Dyed in a eye burning pattern in clashing slhades of a pucey green and near fluorescent purlple, and constructed in such a way that they wouldn’t fit the moost wide hipped woman, decorated in curious ways from swirles of tsparkling and shining metal disks sewin to the cloth, to ruffles going from the knwwee to the hem all the way around the dwide calves of the pants, to the gaudy patches uselessly adorning the knees and seat of the pants. Main looked at it for a few moments, one eye helplessly twitching as the other longed to tear itself from Main’s face, roll around in agony for a few moments, and then douse itself for a few yeaers in strong bleack, then carefully folded the terrible pants, hididng then thouroughly underneat a pile of ordinary (and not so ordinary) breeches, four of which hse noted with puzzlement appeared to be made of silk satin. After the monstrosity was hidden from sight, he carefull moved on to the next shelf and continued searching for proper attire.
Main finaly found leather trews amongst a number of wollen and linen ones (he couldn’t imagine why anyone would wear linednen trews, unless they were under another pair, but he suppose d he should leave every man his own), and sorted through them until he located a pair that were a pleaseant asandy grey color – light enough tahat they wold be nifine enough for fancier weaqr (and would look quite manly and dashing), and dark enough that hthey wouldn’t stain too balcdly. They would be invaluable during the long hours of riding he would have ahead of him (once he obtained a horse, orf course), for they would help his him grip the leather saddle more effectively (and probably would chafe less than wool). He eheld them up to himself to see if they were big enough to be fitted down to his seixze, and noted with pleasure that they were the perfect size. They would probably only beed a little shaping in the knee and calf, as at the moment they were the same width all the way donwn. He also checked the color of the breeches against his boots, which also were in a tan shade, and was pleased o see that he had an outfit that matched in pleasanct shades of earth tones. Main wended his way to the back of the small shop, and found what looked like a fitting from – a alcove, curtained off with schaep muslin. Main drew the curtain back imperiously to find the aforementionsed paapprentice, dozing lightly over yet another pair of trews for the shelf beyond. Main tapped hism on the shoulder, deciding to ne nice this once and not tell the tailor his apprentice had been sleeoping on the job (and anyway, Maini could see several bruises on the red haired teenager, signs that perhaps the Tailor wasn’t terribly forgiving of amny mistakes). The teenagesd apprentice awake immediately, brief terror in his eyes that faded when he saw Main’s face, rather imperisous but not really angry. The boy put the sewing away with a cough and said timidly, “Is … is there anything you need me to do , sir?”
Main proffered the the trews and said loftily, “I nessdd these fitted, apprentice.”
The apprentice tooke thenm, ashook them out, and looke d a Maind and then the pants with a practiced eye, making sure that they would actually fit on the man. Satisfied that Main was competent to actealyy pick a pait of pants that would fit, the apprentice turned them inside out and said confidently, “Would you come intside the alcove sir, remove your, er, kilt, and stanf on this stool please?” His voice was imbued with sudden confidence, perhaps because he was woring in his own element. It was cleasr that although he may be a bit brutalized by his master, and rather mousely, the apprentice was staying with his master not out of fear, but out of passion for his work. As Main complied, the apprenticed busied himself with organizing he his rather small workspace in preparation; he carefully folded the soon to be fitted trews over a chair, then got out a rather spacious sewing kit from a low chest, arragning a large pin cushion stuck thickly with pins along with several needles in a paper, a spool of the thick thread necessary to sew leather, an awl for tough spaces, and several thimbles on the smooth wooden surface of the chest. Then he looked up, completely disinterested in Main except for his usea as a model on whom to fit the pants he now picked up. Main looked at hie nervously, concerned that the apprentice in his new self confidence would try and put the pants on him, as he seemed to suddenly view Main as a doll now that there was sewing to be done. However, the apprentice merely handed the inside out pants to him and ordered, “Here. Put these on. Please. Sir,” the ast two words clearly afterthoughts. Main took the pants gingerly, wondering why a skinny read heared youth was making him act this meek, and worked the pants on over his still rather clean linen braies, which as ai mentioned were pretty clean although tyhey were two days old (Main hadn’t packed any new clothes for himself in his exceittemnt to leave). It took a little adjusting to get the mid thigh length linen shorts to lay right under the trews, but eventually Main got it right and stood still for the apprentice to fit them.
-----
The apprentice Looked at the hang of the trews first, to get a feel for he ought to fit them. He decided, as Main had, that theyr were too hide wide in the leg , and asked absently as he got out his pins, “How tight do you want these? Sir?”
As Main stammered, “Er, well, snug but not tigh—“ the apprentice eyed him, nodded, and moved to Main’s left leg, pinching a bit of fabric I mean leather in his left hand while pinning it deftly with his right hand. Main was about to correct him, but realized that the boy had gotten the fitting exactly right, and was continuing to do it right. He was even accounting for the size of Main’s feet (which, truth to tell, were not exactly large, and could even be considered rather small. But don’t tell him that) and at the same time making the pants look pretty goo.
It took quite a hwhile, though; Main was trying not fidget as the minutes stretched on, with the apprentice looking over his work, taking in an infinitiesimal patch of cloth leather heare, letting a but bit out there, stragighteneing, tugging, adjustcing, and of course, putting in and taking out pins. Finally, the youth straightened, looked at his work critically, and said, “Alright. Good enough. Will you please take those off, sir, and then we’ll get to work sewing them.”
Main looked at the boy curiously, hoping the “we” was not referring to Main in any way, aw as he undid the laces at the waist of the pants, and carefully dropped them, attempting not to dislodge any pins. As be he pinned on his kilt again (wretched thing), the apprentice wsaid absently, “Your trews should be ready in about an hour. Please come back tehn sir, when we will discuss the matter of payment. If you prefer, you may leave the shirt here as well, and pay for both items together. Or, you may keep it for now … I notice you don’t seem to have a shirt of your own.” The apprentice looked rather askance at Main, clearly wondering juwst how he managed to be walking around in a kilt, rather battered boots, two alequally abused hats, and bandages around most of his torseo, exposing only a few slivers of uninjured flesh (although several peepholes appeared to reveal axwfully bruised skin).
Main waved him off whihth a laught. “oh, no, you may keep the shirt ofr now. I’m off to do a few more purchases, and I’m sure this will be fi-“
The apprentice pushed the shirt into Main’s arms and said firmly, “Air, I think it would be much more prudent to piut on the shirt right now.” Main, surprised, pulled the shirt over his head obediently, and took a few coppers out of his belt I mean pocket. “How much?”
“Eight,” said the boy absently, as he began to oull out his supplies in erarnest. “to the master, at the till.”
Eight? Though t Main as he walked over to the master’s booth by the window, getting a few more coins out of his coin pouch. that's actually rather cheap! He
felt the material of his shirt between his first finger and his thumb, consider = ing the texture. It's actually rather fine quality! he decided. IA good value! when begot to the booth, Main proffered the coins to the tailor, saying, "It's for the shirt." The tailor squinted st the coins, and the then he imperiously snatched the coins from his outstretched hands counting them carefully. Then he looked myopically up at Main, saying petulantly. "Trews are five silver for leathered.”

Main nodded as ire half turned away, tucking his new shirt into his hated kilt before venturing out to purchase the rest of his new wardrobe. As Main strode confidently out of the shop, he looked around,
looking for the distinctive shield and helmet sign of an Armored, For a moment, he feared there would be nowhere for him to purchase a mail shirt, but then he saw a helmet shaped sign and sighed in relief. He walked over to the shop, his boot nails clicking on the cobbles, and sunlight glinting softly off his antlers. another bell sounded when Main entered this shop as well [hello Do RD), but this. one had more of clanking sound, largely because it was just an iron cow bell. Main located the armored easily, because he was on a stool, buffing a plate armor greave in the strong sunlight coming in through his own window.
The shopkeep looked up as Main clinked over to him, and said interestedly, "Are interested in a custom-made telnets my good sir? I offer perfectly sized helmets that are easy to put on no matter what you have on your head! (expect those handsome horns make helmet shopping difficult H, eh?" Main looked at him coldly. "They're antlers, actually, and my helmet is a family heirloom, if you must know. what I'm looking for today is just a mail shirt _ long sleeves, high neck, easy to put on, split at the hips, and mid thignt length, please."
---
The armorer looked distinctly disappointed (obviously, the man specialized in helmets, at and didn’t get amny chances to branch out from regular heads) and said, “Well sir, here are our selections. I can adjust a shirt for you if you’d like, but it will cost 20 silver extra and take a couple of hours. We don’t have anything with quite your specifications, but I can take this shirt –“ he proffered a long sleeved shirt with a tall neck that fastened at the right with several leather ties “– and put a split up the sides, no problem. And because it’s so easy, I’ll throw that in there for just 10 silver more – of course, you’ll need to pay the flat fee of fifty silver.”

Main snorted. “Fifty?” he said derisively, knowing that this man, in contrast to the tailor across the square, was silling and happy to haggle. “Look at that shirt! It’s not even backed with leather to keep its shape , and I would be willing to bet that it shadsn’t beed buffed in months. Forthy for everything.”

“Forty? My good sir, examine this workmanship! The links, soldered, not bolted! Every inch shining! Why, leather backing would be overkill with such a fine piece resting on your shouleders! I couldn’t sully its worth by taking any less than forty seven silver.”

Main looked daringly at the man. “Forthy four and five copper.” He raised ihis eyebrows in a manner strangely reminiscent of Lor Squigglebtottom Fancypants when he was extorting the poor stupid innkkeeppper, but since Main is being honest and fair right now we’ll let ist sliede.

The armorer gave Main a look right back that told him, “I know exactly what kind o nonsnsense yoyu’re trying to feed me, and I’m playing along anyway.” He said in a mosck daring voice, “Forty six and ten, and it’s yours.”

“Done,” Main said in exactly the same tone of voice. He counted out the couins fron his kilt pocket and carefully placed then in the man’s hand, who looked at them to make sure they sewere good, then waklked over to his till, locking them away in side. He then got out a heavy duty pair of wire cutters (for the steel of the hauberk was tempered steel, and took makjoyr heavy dyuty tools to cut) and got to work on the shirt. He looke d up at Main, who had remained, and told him before beginning, “This may take a while; I’m going to reconnect a number of these links to maintain the shape of the garmen. Perhaps you would like to caome back for your purchase?”

Main considered, them said, “Certainly, sir, but I’d like some … assurance, shall we say, that my shirt will be waiting and ready for me when I come back.”

The armorer nodded and said, “Certainly sir! I’ll ust … get out a lsip out for fyou …” He looked around his desk for ust such a litp , and his eyes lighted upon a small brownish corner. “Aha! Here we are!:” He took out a quill, licked it, and carefully dipped it into the ink well set inot a corvner of the desk, covered with a cap (usually, of course) that now sat to the side of the ink well. Bringing pen to paper, whe wrote carefully, “Hauberk, one, to the bearer.” He blew on the paper to dry the ink, then handed it to Main, saying, “There you are! Come back in half an hour or so and it will be all done, okay? I mean all right because that was an anachronisnm?” He llooed up into Main’s eyes, bright and scheerful, and placed the paper in Main’s palm, closing his fingers over the little slip as Main looked ast him in confusion and a little er not disgust but something akin to that. Main turned , skaking his head, and left the little shp as the armorer began to cut into the mail shirt. Main steped into the strong after noon sunlight. Suquingting a little at the strong light, he Looked for the last shop he would be frequenting before he was out of things to buy: a millinger, ofor just the right hat to replace he rather rather terrible and battered ones (they’re battered, okay guys? MAIN IS NOT NICE TO HIS HATS. HE BEATS THEM WHEN HE COMES HOME FROM WORK) that remained on his heatd. He diecieded, after much agonized deliberation, that he simply wouln’t dbe able to wear more than one hat at a time for this adventure, because as he his hats advocated, he simply wasn’t able to keep more than one happy [I knew I was going to type that, and I COULDN’T STOP cries]. This reality dampened his sprirts – the whole reason he loved his antlers was because of his ability to multi hat, as it were – now, this amazing feature that was ust on eof the asy that he was truly awesome would be dampened and exclipsed by the other things that made his him the amazing person he was, because of his circumstances. This was ust one of the many ways that the inimical Overlord was ruining his life! He growled ferociously for a moment, before shaking his head to rid himself of this mood, and looking around for a milliner’s. Finiding a shop sign decorated whimsically with a patnting of a large, “cart wheel” type hat that was favored by ladies of styplre, he marched over, his gait affected by his sudden anger, and threw the door open perhaps slightly dtoo quickely, the bell that was abover this door too, as the innovaton of a door bell had been started by I mean introduced by one of the shpoplkee[pers in this town, and they had long sice become ubiquitous in every shop in the towm. When he entered, he notciede that this shop was rather different from the others he had been in – where they had been lit proimarily by swindowns, this shop had only a skylight in the roof (because it couldn’ t be anywhere else) and numerous oil lamps; where they were arranged so that the whop’s wares were displayed along with strong indications ot the shopkeepers’ occupations, this shop only had a few hats on display, clearly as diplay peicese only and not for sale. Main looked thourough the shop, trying to find where he could actually bpurchase a hat, when suddenly the door came shut [that sounds bad, sorry] with a bang, and a voice issued from a dark, cloth shourouded corner, saying, “I see that you need a hat, sir. Would you be intrestied in buying?”

“Er, yes,” said Main, uncharacteristiacally nervous. “That’s, er, what I came here for.” He shifted his weigt from foot to foot.

Th e shadows in the cloth shrouded corver shifted, and a silhouette became visible. The voice came again, saying, “Well, then, I need a look at you.” A hand, dusky skinned, protruded from the shadows, and light glinted off various earrings, rings, braceltets, and the odd necklace as the hand extended a single, slim finger and beckoned. Main , clearly nonplussed, walked closedr, and shadowy eyes narrowed as she surveyed him, his rather ragged and dirty looking ikilt and hats looking distinctly out of lplace against hies sclean, pressed shirt, and his boots, which had been buffed by the herb wife whern we weren’t looking. Her exposed hand reached up and took the most abused looking hat (the gray felt one) off Main’s antler, feeling the wool through her fingers, and tossing it aside with a snort. “That is too far gone,” she said, and snatched the other hat off Main’s heatd. “This one too. You need a hadt that is bold, sir, bold and dashing. You will be buying one hadt, yes?” He she looked at hism sharply, light glingting off her eey as she turned her head.

Main stammmere,d, “Ye – yes,” wondering how wshe knew. The woman nodded sharply, the effect uted by the shadow in her cornere, but expressive tenough that Main nearly felt it.

“Very good,” she said. “I will get you hats. We will see what is best for you.” She turned swiftly, her myyuriad jewelry pieces clinking as she pushed aside the hangings and endtered a workroom that had previously been invisible. Main stood, bemused, as she looked for hats. He wondered what was going on – he had entered the shop with the intention of pickin g out a uitable hat for himself, and here he was having his hat chosen by a woman he couldn’t even see. However, he didn’t seem to have it in him to naysay her; she had the same kind of forceful personality Jeeves had, only Jeeves was a lot more passive aggressive than she wasy. Main was struck mby a sudden wave of nostalgia, even though he was ony a day removed from his home; he had never left home proior to this quest, and he misside it. He was startled from his homwesickness, though, by the reappearance of the shadow swathed woman, holding a hat in each hand and one on her head. Hshe brought the third hat down after taking the I mean pitting the others on the shelf that separated her and Main and pread then pout carefully, displaying them all to theit best advantage. Ato the left, a tall I mean flat hat in an attractive shade of blue sat, one edge of hits brim rolled up, the other side left flat with a long white plume that had to be made of at least four individual feathers sewn under the hatband. Beside it, nestled between the two larger hats on either side, was a hat in a daring shade of read, with the back of its narrow brim flipped up so it had an interesting arrow shape, and the top of the crow pushed in so it appeared to have two rideges on either side of the top of the hat. This hadt also had a plume, although it was much more conservative in length, and not so unnatural in color, being a lpleasant tan. The last hat was made of leather, unlikte the other two, which ewere wool felt; its wide brim was also brought up, but unlike the others was sewn to the tall, cylindrical crown in three places to amake the hat have an overall triangular shape. Main looked at hthe two felt hats critically; he felt an immediate affinity to the leather hat, thinking it looked very dashing, daring, and other manly adjective s beginning with the letter “D”. the woman uch must have had a reason tfor taking all of these hats out, though, so he didn’t dismiss them immediate.y.

The woman picked up the blue hat and pbeckoned oMain over. “Come here,” she said, unncecessarlity expounding on he r already sufficiently eloquentl hand movement. Main obediently moved sclosed, I mean closer, and the woaman immediately snatched Main’s other hat, threw it down, and carfeyully arrange the that on his head. HShe was very deliberate about this; she moved the hat this way and that, looking at ti critically, then oveing it once more. She finally put the hat don and picked up the next hat, the red one. She arranged this , too, on Main’s head, maneuvering tas best she could although he his antlesr really limited the rancge of possibility. Finally, tshe tried out Main’s favorite, the eleather triangular one, before putting it down again. She said in though for a moment, then said deliberately, “The hat will be twently silver. I do not replace hats, adnd yoi must pay for prepairs.” She took up the red hat and put it on Main’s head and helpd out her hand for the moenyl.

Main looked at the woman in disappointment, wanting the leather hat. “Ma’a, theis isn’t the that I want, I want the –“

The woman interrupted him sharply. “You cannot have what you want al lthe time, boy! This is the hat hyou get! The leaster is not fogood on you; it needs to sidt on the scalp, not antlers – this one is meant to be askew, it is perfect. Now. Twenty silver.”

Main scowled, but saw the that the woman was adamant and would not buged. He sullenly dug the coins out of his belt purse I mean pocket, and dumped them in the woman’s hat. Hand.
--
Main left that store faintly disgrungtled and very confused. Ilt was the fist time in a long ever I mean time that he had bee been coerced into buying something he didn’t actually want. It was seldom that he found a person with a stronger will and personality then he himself did. He moved over to the village well, trying to see if he could find a reflection in the low, shallow trough for sheep and cows. When he reached it, he looked down at the sun dappled surface of the water, with very few inclusionds fof straw of or spittle, and adjusted his hat a little. It sat at ta jaunty angle on his antler, the red cheerful and a sdaring as he. He looked at it, his spirits lifting a little. Although it hadn’e been his first choice, it was a terrible piece of tripe thatn nonbody liked. I mean it was actually turning out to be something lovely and wonderful, like happy butterflies frolicking through sun drenched meadowns with their rabbit friwnds. (dbefore Laord Squigglebottom Fancypants kills them and drains them of their blood, of course. Although frolixkcing zombie bunnies would ee entertaining.) Smiling in that debonair, self assured way that Main was so famed for in his home country, Main turned, making his kilt swirl dramatically, and took himself off to the tailor to check the preogress on his pants.

As he pushed open the doors dramatically (again, the effect ruined =but by the cheerful little tinkle of the silver), he called, “Tailor! How goes the work on my breeches?”

Despite the fact that way less time tha an hour had passesd, the tailor boredly held up a folded bundle and called, “ten skilver, and they’re yuours,” he called [again, knew it was coming and COULDN’T STOP]
Main laughed fakely. “Ten? My good man! They couldn’t be worth more than five!”

“You think kleather grows in on trees? And my apprentice did good worlk on those trews! You will starve him! Nine.”

Main tried the tried and true head tilt and said beguilingly, “Seven and five?” The tailor looked at him sourly.

“nine and five. Last offer.” He said, his voice flat and unamused. He held up the pants, knowing that Main needed them.

Main started to portest that nine and five was more than his previous offer of nine, but one look at the man’s sardonic and utterly umnmoved face and heis protests were quelled. He silently and unhappily dug more couins out of his belt, thinking that all his purchases were conspiring to break the bank today (unless, of course, he had the secret which powered his coin pouch – it was a magical portal to his father’s treastury, wo his funds would never run out withing reason). He dumped the coints onlto the man’s work bench, a glum scowl on his face, AND snatched up his pants, looking at the man with a look that was meant to lmake him regret everything dbad he’d ever done, and especially this recent slight against ain himself. The tailor looked back at main , urrerlu unmoved, and flicked his eys toward the door in a clear indicatrion that Main had overstaued his welcome. Main didn’t even wait to change into his mesw didds, but promptly sniffed ant strode out the door.

Main headed over tho the armoreers in a very bad mood indeed, his frustration at the milliner, his anger at the tailor, and his general hatred for the current circumstances blending into a full on strorm cloud that was litteraaly chaning over his head, and kicked the main’s door open. The armorer looked u in surprise and then smiled happily. “SirQ! You are back aearly! That is no matter – I have finished your shirt! What do you think?” He held up his handiwork proudly , only to dhave ti snatched out of his hands by the irate Main.

“Do you have a changing booth?” Main growled.

The armorer looked at him concernedly, then said, “Yes; it’s in the back –“ Main stormed to where he was pointing without a second world.

Asfter he had gotten thte booth’s curtain drawn behind him, Main unwoulnd his kilt and dropped it unceremoniousl to the ground. He shooke off his boots and socks, as well. He picked up the trews, shaking them out to inspect them, and, satisftied, hee pulled them on, adjusting hie braies as before. When he had gotten his pants on and laced, he pulled on his bots on, then tucked in his shirt loosely into the trews’ waistband. Unlacing his belt from the kilt’s loops, Main set it aside, in preparation to cinch in the loose mail shirt. Finally, Main undid the laces on the mail shirt’s neck, then slid it on, allowing its weight to settle on his shoulders before wrapping his belt around his waist and threading the end around the metal loop in the opposite end, knotting the belt around his waist in a practiced motion. The loose end flopping against his thighs as he walked , he brushed aside the curtain, his confidence and mood boosted phenomenally by the proper clothes. He left the kilt on the ground for wuite a few paces before remembering that it helped all of his money, and he quickly ran back to it, pulled the money bag and a few other possessions out of the kilet pocket before discarding it again and striding out the door, ignoring the armorers’ confused and jumbled protests.

Walking out into the bright sunshine, Main stood with his cheest puffed and arms akimbo for a moment, posing a little for whomever may have been watching, before catching a sudden glimpse of a fluttering cloak out of the corner of his eye. Wondering who was wandering around in a cloak when the waeather was so fine, he noticed a brief flash of dark, curiously cut hair before it was obscured by the cloak’s hood. Main immediately recognized the hairstyle – the only person he had ever seen with shoulder length hair on the left side of his head, but close cropped hair on the right, was none other than the dastardly Overlord who had caused all this trouble! Main didn’t pause to think why the Overlord had decided to reamin in this smallish town instead of continuing on to his home citadel – obviously, he was traveling slowly to sow chaos thickly along his path. Main launched into action, running after the small flutter of a cloak that had fisrts caugh his eyes. Small visual and audial clues – the flutter of a hem or the edge of a boot clothing a running foot, the deep breaths or heavy footsteps of a powerfully built man being pursued – guided Main in his tracking down of the man who had turned his life and the lives of many within and without his kingdom upside down. Finally, the trail led Main to a large, forbidding building, with many doors and few windows, and a few mysterious fixings on the sides, like the bronze faced slot that was built into the side of the building, about waist height (or perhaps a little higher). Seeing nobody by the building, Main rushed inside to investigate.

The interior size was the first thing that struck main. Although it appeared to have levels built around the edges, each reached by greaceful stairways, the center atrium was as tall as the building, with a small oculus in the very center of the ceiling (although it was sheltered by a cone shaped baffle for quite a ways, the sky was visible through it). The ceiling was obviously beautiful once, although the ancient mosaics that once decorated it now were largely patchy. All around, on every one of the seven levels (quite a feat, especially in a builgind so old as this one), shelves of books stood among the buttresses that flowed gracefully from the level above to the wall (and outside, continued to semi separated columns, to share the load of the heavy books and stone), with chairs, wheeled ladders, and low tables scattered liberally along every floor. After a moment of shocked silence – he was certainly not expecting such a grand library (for that was what it was) to be in this rather small town! – Main noticed a little movement in a rather drab looking room that peeked out from behind a door that hung a little ajar (which temporarily confused Main, since he was expecting it to be, well, a door), which was in turn sheltered by a curving desk, which was mostly bare except for a large ledger, quill pen, and accompanying inkwell that sat dead center, and row upon row of small drawers, all marked with series of numbers and letters. Main quickly skirted the desk, hugging the wall in case of ambushers, and peeked into the doorway. Finding nobody hiding directly beyond, he edged the door open just enough to slip in, and slunk into the drab room.

Inside, he found out at least where the braasss edged slot I mean bronze edged slot gave out. There was a great bin, also made of bronze, that was bolted to the wall below a wide, sloping chute, at the end of which Main could just see sunlight from the flap that closed the slot’s mouth. Inside the bin appeared to be books, of all shapes and sizes, although many seemed to be restrained with a narrow band around their longitudinal sides, to keep them closed. The bin was about half full with books. Main looked around the small room for any clues as to the wheareabouts of the man he sought, but the professional, spare office of a room offered no clues as to where the Overlord could be found. Main realized he must have been misled in his assumption that the man had fled into this building, because just as the central stacks had been open enough that there was no way a person, especially a man of the Overlord’s impressive stature, could have hidden amongst the bookds, so this room offered absolutely no cover for a man to hide. The cupboards were segmented and bolted to the wall; the desk was merely a table, and its attending chair a simple wood construction with a thin leather pad; even the book bin was too low to hide a man, even if he was I mean even if it was completely empty. Main was about to give up on his chase for the time being (fot all that running had been hard on him, especially as his stitiches pulled every step unless he took very small mncing steps) when he heard murmuring voices without, brought into the office by the amplifying properties of the smooth, bronze lined chute. He recognized them, too – one voice clearly the powerful, resonant tones of the Overlord, and the other the rodent like snuffle of his chief attendant.

“Thank you, Sigos,” said the Overlord in hushed tones. “You don’t know how much joy your timely help ahas given to me! I’m not sure why that young man was chasing me, but he certainly did seem irate. And even if he didn’t hurt me, he would be certain to bring my presence in this town to light, which would certainly derail our plans.”
--
“Certainly, my lord,” came the snuffle of Sigos’ voice. “ It would be … quite the shame, should your [plans be voverturned. And if the townspeapole found you … they may have been derailed permamnently.”

Mian sucked in air as he heard a confirmation of his as yet inchoate theories. The Overlord was plotting something dastardly! Something so bad that, unless he had misheard or miscontsruted the attendant’s words, the Overlord would be lynched for it if he were discovered. His eyebrows drew together as he realized that the only way the Overlord could have hidden from him in this area without ogoing inside a building was through magical maeans. The fiend! He thought. The townspeople will no stand a chance against sorcery!

Suddenly a hand closed aroung Main’s bicep, and he was hauled up to his feet (he had crouched by the chute to stem listen) in form front of a very angry looking woman. She looked at him sardonically and asked, “And just /what/ are you doing in here? I’ll have you know that this ias a restricted aread! Get out! Now!” She shoved out at hi until her was forced out tof the office altogether. Main looked back angrily – now that the Overlord and his flunky knew there was someone listening to thenm, they would be sure to flee. Main checked out the door nearest him, to have his fears confirmed: there was no one to be seen. Grumpily, Main stomped back into the library, to find the fierce Librarian brandishing a stack of books at him. “Put these away, you miscreant,” she said, her voice brroking no argument. “And aybe next time you’ll think twice about trespassing! Now go. Fourth floor. The titles will be shelved alphabetically by name. Get going.”

Grumbling, Mian took himself off to the fourth floor, as ordered. However, swhen he got there, he realized he wasn’t in wuite as good shape as he thought. He was panting, sweat an unpleasant sheen on his skin, and his stitched up wounds were seeping blood into his bandages (which, thankfully, were good enough to keep the blood from his shirt). He sat down on a nearby chair, whose back was to the railing of the edge of the floor. He opened up a book at random to improve his reading skills, and read with growing earnest.

He read:
Let me tell you a tale, a tale of the long ago …
At first, there was only Chaos. And out of Chaos sprung the elder gods. And one of these was named Gaia, the Earth.
Gaia was lonely in the midst of Chaos and its children (though they were not children in truth, for each was unique to himself or herself, and had only been brought into being by Chaos), who were dark and frightening, like Nyx, who was night. And so Gaia called a god into being herself, asking even greater powers than she for a husband.
And so was brought forth Oranos, the Sky, who was as a husband to Gaia, who like the other elder gods was shapeless and without form, for at this time there were no mortals, and the gods were unconstrained by the imaginings of men. And with Gaia, his wife, Oranos called into being the Titans, who were just as shapeless and without form as he and Gaia and the rest of the elder gods were.
When Cronus, the youngest and craftiest of the Titans, was made, Gaia and Oranos decided that there were to be no more Titans. But Oranos and Gaia were lonely yet, and loved each other much; so together they performed the long rites that would call into being the Cyclopes and the Hundred-Handed Ones. But when they had made the Hundred-Handed Ones, Cronus decided that he would not have more potential enemies created, and having no feeling for the one who had made him, bound and injured Oranos so that he could not make any other powers. But Oranos told him in his anger that just as he himself had been bound by his own creation, so in time would Cronus be brought down by a god he had created. And Cronus was afraid.
But Gaia knew that there were more powers that were yet to be made. So she spoke to her creations, that she called her children, telling them to create. But only three heard her, and they were Prometheus, Epimetheus, and Rhea. So Epimetheus went first, and being a creative Titan, he made many different kinds of beasts, and gave each of them interesting and unique attributes. But he refused help from Gaia, and so these beasts were mortal, unlike all that had come before.
Prometheus went second, and he, like Epimetheus, scorned Gaia’s aid. And he created mortals also, but he was unlike Epimetheus, for he desired not to create strength, but cunning, for he did not love his fellow Titan Cronus. And Prometheus was jealous of Epimetheus, so he did not want to make creatures like he had made. So Prometheus made man, who walks differently from beasts, and who is naked unlike beasts, but who is more crafty than the serpent. But because he did not accept help from Gaia, these were mortal too, for all their cunning.
Rhea, seeing that the creatures her fellow Titans were making were mortal, and desiring to make gods like the elder gods, enlisted her mother Gaia’s help, and Cronus’ help also, although he did not know what he was doing. And so she brought into being six gods, who were like the mortals that Prometheus had made (for Rhea admired men and found them beautiful), but they were immortal and had great power. Cronus was jealous of their power, but found Rhea pleasing to be with, and so consented make gods with her as long as they did not give them the ability to create, which all the gods to that time had had. And so the gods were made, each unique, but so that they would need to lie with each other, like mortals, to beget offspring, instead of using the mysterious ways that the elder gods had.
But Cronus was still not satisfied with his promise, for he remembered the prophecy of the bound Oranos; and so when each of the gods was made, fully grown, he swallowed them into his formless essence, and bound them there. Rhea was angry that Cronus broke his promise, and she tricked him after they had made the sixth. This god she made an infant, not an adult, and when he was made, Rhea took him away secretly, giving Cronus a stone to bind instead. At this time Cronus was fatigued from the creation rites, and in his haste did not notice that the sixth god had escaped.
At this time the Cyclopes and Hundred-Handed Ones rebelled against Cronus, and he fought mightily with them. When Cronus was occupied by his battles, Rhea stole away and hid her sixth creation, whom she named Zeus (for he was a male) on the surface of her mother Gaia, and bade Gaia’s handmaidens, the nymphs, to care for him until he was grown. When Rhea returned to her fellow Titan Cronus, he had defeated the Hundred-Handed Ones and the Cyclopes and hid them deep in Erebus, the underworld. This angered Gaia, and she began to care for Zeus in secret, and train him to be even more mighty than a Titan.
The seasons passed, and Zeus grew to his prime as a shining youth. Because of his training by Gaia, he wanted only to free his fellow gods and defeat Cronus. So, he went to a secret place on the face of Gaia and consulted the elder gods, asking for a way to fulfill his greatest desire. Metis came to him there, and gave him a fell draught that would weaken Cronus’ power, allowing the gods to come free, and would irritate his formless essence, so that it would vomit them out. Zeus took this draught gratefully, and travelled to Cronus’ residence in the paralyzed essence of his father Oranos, the sky. Cronus was suspicious of Zeus, and rightly, for he seemed to be a human in shape, but also seemed like one of the Titans in a way he could not understand. But Zeus succeeded in convincing Cronus that he was the flower of humanity, and had been sent as a sacrifice to serve Cronus as a cupbearer. And Cronus was pleased, for he desired greatly the libations of mortals. So he took the cup that Zeus gave him, and he absorbed it into his formless essence.
At once Cronus knew he had been tricked, and he convulsed mightily as the draught worked its power on him. And out of his essence came the first gods:
Poseidon emerged first. He was tall and mighty. He had a full beard and long hair that were white as seafoam. He was volatile, quick to anger but just as quick to calm. He was the fifth born.
Hades emerged second. He was tall but lithe. His hair was black as Nyx, and he had no beard. He was quiet and moody, but slow to anger. He was the fourth born.
Hera emerged third. She was beautiful but small. Her hair fell in loose curls, and her skin was white like cream. She was nurturing, but fiercely jealous. She was the third born.
Demeter emerged fourth. She was generously built, tall and broad. Her hair was tightly curly and the color of wheat, and he skin was dark like the seeds of rye. She was protective and fertile. She was the second born.
Hestia emerged last. She was tall but she was not beautiful, for Rhea and Cronus had been inexperienced when they had made her. Her hair was wavy and she bound it up, and her skin was neither dark nor light. She was a caretaker, but she was timid. She was the first born.
The newly freed gods thanked Zeus for freeing them, but Zeus was quick to tell them there was no time to celebrate. He asked them if they knew how to find the Cyclopes and Hundred-Handed Ones (Gaia had not been able to tell him, for she did not love Erebus, and she did not know that the Cyclopes and Hundred-Handed Ones had been bound within him). Hades stepped forward; he shared an affinity with Erebus, because Rhea had thought of Erebus when she was creating Hades. Hades followed his affinity to Erebus, and asked him where the Cyclopes and Hundred-Handed Ones were. Erebus led Hades and Zeus to them, and with his mighty strength Zeus freed them. The Cyclopes and Hundred-Handed Ones were angry from their long imprisonment, but grateful to Zeus; and the Cyclopes made weapons for the gods to wield, and the Hundred-Handed Ones pledged themselves as soldiers to Zeus.
For Zeus the Cyclopes made javelins of power and light, that we now call thunderbolts.
For Poseidon the Cyclopes made a spear that had three sharp points, which they called a trident.
For Hades the Cyclopes made a spear like Poseidon’s, with two prongs instead of one. They also made him a helm of darkness, which would make him invisible, because he was not as mighty as his brothers.
For the three goddesses the Cyclopes did not make weapons, but Gaia gave Hera poison made from plants, and she gave Demeter the narcotic power of the poppy, and she gave Hestia the power of fire.
With the help of the Cyclopes’ gifts, and the strength of the Hundred-Handed Ones, who did not have weapons but instead were given great boulders by Gaia, which they hurled at their enemies, Zeus and his brothers Poseidon and Hades, and his sisters Hera, Demeter, and Hestia attacked the stronghold of the Titans while Cronus was still weak from Metis’ draught. They fought mightily with them, although Prometheus, Oceanus, Epimetheus, and Rhea did not join the fray, but instead hid with Gaia from the battle. Finally, Zeus and the gods prevailed, and they imprisoned the Titans in the body of Erebus, where their siblings had been bound, and in the body of Gaia, to ensure that they could not rise again.
The gods returned to the stronghold of the Titans to celebrate; they did not know they were in the body of Oranos, who was invisible. And Gaia could not tell them, for the Titans within her made her retreat far into her essence, to retain her power over them. And so Oranos remained bound and injured by Cronus, as he is to this day.
When they returned to the sky, Zeus saw that Hera was beautiful; and Poseidon saw that Demeter was beautiful; but Hades did not find Hestia beautiful. And consulting Rhea, the gods realized that it was permissible for them to lie with each other, because they were all unique creations. But Rhea warned that it would not be permissible for their offspring to lie with each other, and it was not permissible for human siblings to lie with each other, and that if they did the gods must punish them. And the gods promised they would.
Hera was pleased to lie with Zeus, and they claimed each other as husband and wife. But Demeter was not pleased to lie with Poseidon, for she preferred Zeus; and this was a source of strife, because Zeus was a lover of many women, but Hera was jealous and would not permit it. And Poseidon, too, was jealous, and pursued Demeter often in many forms.
In a time when their tensions were calmed, the gods decided that they should claim areas of dominion. Because Hestia was the oldest, she was entitled to claim her sphere first; but because he was the most garrulous, Zeus spoke first.
Zeus claimed the sky as his domain, not knowing it was the body of his grandfather; he desired it because it overlooked Gaia’s body. He claimed also the office of the king of the gods.
Poseidon spoke next; he claimed the realm of Oceanis, because he and Oceanis shared an affinity; he desired it because it encircled Gaia’s body.
Demeter spoke after him; she claimed the realm of Gaia, because she and Gaia shared an affinity.
Hades spoke next; he claimed the realm of Erebus, because he and Erebus shared an affinity; he did not desire to live there, but he could not claim the surface of Gaia because it belonged to Demeter.
Hera did not claim a realm, but instead claimed dominion over married mortal women, and over married goddesses as well; she wore a high crown, which proclaimed her the queen of the gods.
Hestia, too, did not claim a realm, but instead claimed dominion over the hearth, because she had fire. Hera was scornful of her because her realm was similar to Hera’s own; but Hera was not jealous of Hestia, because Hestia was not beautiful, and not even Zeus desired her.
And so, the gods chose realms and subjects. Zeus and Hera went to a great mountain, called Olympus, which extended high into the sky, and created a great citadel at its peak, which they inhabited along with Hestia. Demeter wandered the surface of Gaia, the Earth, scorning to make a palace, but instead stayed in mortals’ fields for a night at a time, enriching their fields and moving on. Poseidon went to his watery kingdom and created a vast palace, made of coral stone and precious gems. Because Demeter spurned him, he took a wife from amongst his subjects, the nereids or sea-nymphs; her name was Amphitrite.
Hades descended to his cold, dark realm and created a palace for himself, too, but he did not take a wife for himself. Instead, he concentrated on maintaining the balance of the universe by ensuring that the dead remained so. But Hades was not satisfied.
This is how the gods came to be, and how they were given their domains. So Mote It Be.
--
Main closed the book and looked at ti curiously. He had never heard of these gods – he suppose d it must be a story created by some bored storyteller’s overactive imagination. He picked up another, not noticing its title: Bedded By Her Lord. He turned to a random page, instead of the beginning as he had with ther odd religious text, an read:

Gerturd sighed, pulling the neck of her blouse down further. Lord Harnibal leant in further, his eyes dark and mysterious. Gertrued leaned in to meet him, her lips parted, her eyes inviting him, begging him to –

Main quickly shut the book and stared askance at it. He had heard that women enjoyused what they called “romance stories,” but he never knew they were like that. That was practically … well … it wasn’t something that Main thought women ought to be reading. Or men, for that matter.

Main let the book slide to the floor as he sat back, allowing himself to relax briefly. Little as he liked to admit it, he was falggins, and a lot earlier than he had hoped. That run, especially, had done him in, and the climb up to this level, though relatively easy, had exhausted him. He tried in his mind to blame his fatigue on the residual leffect of the drugs her had been fed tby the craxy herb wife, but he knew that his previously sedentary lifestyle had left hoim more out of shape than he knew, and that, combines with the attack he had had so randomly just the day before made him easily tired and caused him additionaly pain when he moved too rapidly, as his blood moistened bandages now attested. Knoet I have no idea what I was trying to say there, so let’s move along: without consciously making ad decision t rest, Miain lay his head against the tall back of the confortable armchair, intending only to rest his head there for a moment while he caught his breath. Unbeknownst to him, the process of catching his breath at this particular time wsa going to require a four hour nap. Main dozed lightly for a few moments, his princely patooshlkie unused to sleeping sitting up, but thern his fatuge and exhaustioin and tiredness and depletion and many other words that signified his amazing amount of enervation overpowered him, and he fell deeply aslepp. However, because he was a protagonisht and beautiful and handsome at all times despite the fact that he rearely esxercised and was at the moment catatonic with weariness, he was not drooling or snoring or doing any of the other things that males (and humans in general) tend to o when they’re sleeping, but in fact rwas resting in the chair in an attitude that conveyed his physical beauty perfectly, while also suggesting a certain vulnerablilty that was imply irresistible to femalses, and at the same time giving him a mystique wihic also made him terribly alluring.
All these ideas were running through Ancalade Frid Mohn Hoots’ mind as she looked at the softly slumbering supine silhouette of the shagged out superman. In the way of all adventure heros, main immediately attracted aenvery woman who got withing twently feet of him, and though thshe wasn’t terribly attractive herself, and had sworn herself off men years ago, the fierce Lirbrarian of tinytown was inexhorably drawn, in the way of the penny dreadful she was addicted to, to hithis man. It was really slightly ridiculous – he was notihing like the numerous cutouts she owned of sleek, beautiful elves, or muscle boutnd human men – but womehosw, this … miscreant managed to attract her, from his absurd antlers to his tight apants. Which fit him very well. By the way. Even though she couldnb’t even see most of them, thanks to the tall booths and the long skirted mail shirt (which wasn’t actually all that long skirted; it just wseemed that way to the admittedly love straved Ancalade Frid Mohn Hoots.) She wondered how he managed to look so good while sleeping – even the fact that he was a protagonist (which she didn’t actually knew, at last concsciously; being a librarian and therefore possessing a spceical connection with books in general and this one in particular, seeing as she was a character in it, she subconsciously knew that this man was Important with a capita “I”, and therefore worthy of her attention, but this information was forbindden from hier conscous mind for the same reasons as Marco was forbidden to blaspheme) didn’t fully explain for here the odd attraction he held for her. What she was forgetting, of course, was that in all good fiction (read really really bad fiction), the main character (usually a Mary Sue or Gary Lou) is always the most attractive person in the world (even if theyr’e not the most beautiful, they always have a mysterious force that attracts them fo the people they wish to be attracted to , and often those they don’t) and always hads fan bays and girls hanging, noy dripping, off their arms and various other body parts, which of course does not makde them conceited, because theyre the main character, after all. (she would remember theis important parcel of information when Main was using a club to fight off his would be lovers.)

Aftger gazing at Main for a little while, the Loibrarisam noticed the books that had slid off his lap. Although she couldn’t find int in her self to blame the sleeping and obviously catatonic Main (and ofdd situation for hthe Librariam to find herself in, because she oculd usually find it in her heart to hold the most adorable child, even her own mother, guilty if she found them ieven tangetniallsy connected to a crime against book kingd) (this cleasyrly showed just how smitten she wasy at this moment), she couldn’t let those poor books remain on fthe floor, fair game for wa unwary feet and the chewing chjaws of mice and silverfish, and theyir pages open for any bright light to fade. She carfeluly gathered them iunp one by one, and found their places on the shelf, carfeull replacing them in such a way that their delicate pages of parchment, vellum, or less popular linen paper were protected and uncrumpled. Them she went back to watching Main. Because that’s really awfully boring (I mwan, the only interesting thimg going on there is that tshe actually is drooling more than the person swho’s sleeping), let’s take a lood at Ancalade Frid Mohn Hoots instead.

Ancalade Frid Mohn Hoots is a tall woman, and not delicately built, although it is clear she tries to emphasieze her shape by tying a bright saffrom yellow sash around her wais. However, the she hasn’t stooped to the lows that Last First Middle inhabits daily, as she still retains a sense of dignity and modestly, and her dress is a prudish turtle neck in a russet red, that reaches clear to the ground. Her boots, heavy hobnailed affairs, do not help her in the delicate feminine respect, weither.

Ancalade Frid Mohn Hoots’ adherence hto her standarsds does, unfortunately, help drive away potential suitors. Her face is dominated by a strong curved ship’s prow of a nose, and her strong, wide chin does not help matters. Even then, she could manganedgs to be pretty looking, but she unfortunately compounds her sever features with an even more severe bun that is evocaticve of the unimaginably strict spinster schoolmarm that every small boy feared terribly sewhen he was a young lad. In addition, years of wquinting at the tiny, crabbed handwriting of ancient scholards has permanently damagesd her eyesikght, which she has fixed with a small pair of the iconic eyeglasses, which do nothing for her looks as a woman and only pushed her further into spinster schoolmarm territory. these, compounded with her uncompromising mode of dress and her general unhappy witht the world demeanor, crate a tryuly formidalbely woman, who unfortunately is stuck in an unenviable position with regards to romantic prostpects: all the men who are brave enough to woo her are also completely uninterested (or married, or both), and all the men who are actually attracted to her are, to a man, wither too timid to approach her, or living in a foreign country, or both. As she is, as previously alluded to, a rather old fashioned woman, she absolutely will not pursue men herself (a descision that was, regrettably for her, arrived at as a direct sconsequence of a ong sequence of humiliation, heartbreak, and sexual manipulation), which her left her, lonely for love but denied it, and with regularity. And here came this cheeky young protagonist, and began changing (slowly at least) Mai I mean Ancalade Frid Mohn Hoots’ opinions on exactly what was proper for a young (or at least not old) lady.
--
CHAPTER 6
>In which Main gets a weapon, a new party member, and learns more about the plague of chaos.<

Main awoke in again a singularly uncomfortable position. Eh thought to himself, it’s positively peculiar how I have been waking up in odd circumstances for literally the past three days straight. He looked around him. H ewas slumped in a n old, windgeback chair, his legs splayed out before him, and his neck cramped for from the odd position it had fallen into. Looking uo., he noticded rows and rows of books, aalong with a coffee table as old as the chiar he had fallem aslepp ein, which confused him for quite a while until he remembered his mad headlong dash which had ended in this unexpectded servitude to the oddly forceful and sever looking woman. He ythen nearly jumped out of his skin (metaphorically, of course) when he realized that this same woman was looking at him with a asappy smilye, that was quickly wiped off her face when she realized he was awake. She cleared ther througt and tugged on her robe oto stragihtedn the wringkels as Main stared at her in abject horror, thinking to himself, If she gets it into her mind to that I’m her soul mate, there is nothing I can do to hide! I need to make myself unavailable in some wau! He made half-formed planes to finally respond to some of the comely efl (thwat was her name? Final?) ‘s advances, before his thoughts were interrupted by a gruff statement from the formidable, matronly woman before him *(although at least she wasn’t fat, just masculinge in a singlularly plain way). “I, er, I put those books away for you,” she said, embarrassment roughening her voice. “You were … um ... debilitated. Unwell. Ill. Incapacitated. Unconscious. Physically har-“

“Er, yes, thatnk you,:” said Main hurriedly, thrying to stop the flood of synonyms that the woman was vmomiitting forth in an obvious outpouring of her nervousness. “You’re … you’re very kind.”

The Librarian blushed; Main, disheveled, sleepy, and obviously terrified, was tewice as attractive not was he had been asleep (although the terror was a little off putting and insulting, the adorable confusion was more than made up for it), and the :Librarian was certainly not immune to his considerable charms. Even the antlesr didn’t sdissuade her (she was insisting to herself that they meade him look like a primeval god of the hunt, shwhich was sort of working on her, because it reminded her irresistible of research). She mumbled, “Oh it wasn’t, really – it is just a serveirce, we, er, here at the , u, National, er, Library are ,erm, ah, obligated, yes, obligated to , er, provide to our , um, patrons, ah –“ She broke off, thankfully, as she rucshed away, her hands to her bruningn cheeks.d

Main waved his hand, mock carelessly, and saidm, “no matter the cause, my lady, it was still a kind gesture. Is there … any way I can reopaly you?” He fervently siwhsied there wasn’t, but his role as a protagonsit iunfortunately forcwd him to act gallantly when someone did him a fovr. (Ususlaly he didn’t mind this too terribly much, because he reckoned ti was better to gets his debts apid (escpescially those of the moentary sort) before they were old enough to haunt him, but at the moment, with this terrifying woman making sjheep’s eyes at him, he felt he had reson for alarm.) as she thought, suddenly pensive, He thought desperately to himself, Pleaste don’t ask to come with us please odon’t ask to come with us please odon’t ask to come iwht us plase don’t ask to come with us please don’t ask to co—

She stoo up straight suddenly asn asked, “Are you a travelling adventurer?”

Cringing in dread, but suddenly unable to lie, Mian suttered, “Well, er, if you wnt to put it that way p—it’s just a one-time deal – er., us, that is, travelling yes but adventures … ?” He treailed off as the lLIbrarian ‘s face gained the stern determination he had begun to assiociate with the Librarian, and his heart sank at the way tshe was obviously thinking.

“Well, I think ou ought to have some sort, er, some sort of, well, historian, don’t you? To, you know, record your, um, feats of, er, derring do? That sort of thing?” The Librarian statmmer ed a little more, obviousyly uncomfortable with the rather large bono she was ogoing to ask for, but her attraction to Main and her latenet thirst for adventure (which had led her to the job of Librarian and the love of books in the first plavce) overpowered her nervoiusness and her embarrassment, and she said (with perhaps a little too much determination), “I want to join your adventuring party.”

Main’s face stiffened as he held as mask of polite excitement over the face which he awaws not allowind to crumple in ablsolute crushed dejection. “ewe’’ll, of course you can,” Main said in a controlled voice. “That weould of course be alright with me because I olove to have new people oin my taeam. WElcom e abouard.”

The Librarian’s eyebrows rose, and she said in a voice utterly unlik her normal personality, “R – Really!?” She was obviously controlling her voic e very carefully so as not to squieak like a rabid fangirl at this revelation.

“Ye,s of course,” said main, whio was at this point full of crushing dieassapointment. “Come on, let’s go to … er … wherever in this town someone can get a room to stay. I’m sure the rest of my party is in a, um , tavern. Or something.”

The Lirbrarian , who at his point was really too exceited to nitice Main’s dismal mood, grabbed his arm and said, “We’ll, why don’t I pack and you re – I mean wait here. We’ll go to each ofht the tavermns in town and see what there is to see. I mean, there aren’t many taverns in town – and I really on ly have a few things I need – I’ll juest be a momomnet. Wait here.” The Librarian bustled off, to go get all the things she really needed otr travel. Main flopped don’t down on to her I mmean his chair and put his head in his hands, wicshing that just once he wouln’dn’t go al flustered and chivalrous whenever a nearby damsel happened to be in any kind of distrsess. It was ont of those unforthiunate throwbacks to his heritage that he regretted deeply – the heroic instincts tha rans so strongly in the Character’s’ bloodline that any thing that looked or acted remotely monsterlike, anything that breathed anything resembling a flame, any woman I mean female (usually virginal, but that wan’t essential) who found herself in a tough spot, woke in them a strong urge to protect and fight. Even, as this circumstance prove, when they didn’t seesc=pecially want to. Main sighed deeply and wwaited fot the woman. The only good thing that had come of the day so far (or at least as far as Main was concerned) was that Main had gotten wasy away from that fcreepy, most probably insamne herbalist woman, and had gained a well deserved rest (the fact that he had overheard a conversation between his nemeses was eclipsed byt the fact that hthey had run him ragged and escaped him besides). He stayed in that dejected attitude to for wuitea a while aftr, waiting for the librarian to gather her belinongings and get a move on.

The Librarian bustled happily, excited to be going somewhenre (and feeling bubbly and girlish inside because she would be going there with Main). HShe opened the door to her office again, and went through it to t he door that Main had been unable to find when her he had gone in illicitly (or more likely, that he hadn’t noticed. Because it wasn’t magically hidden or anything like that. No way. It was a completely noremaly door. It wasn’t’ even ajar. Just a plain ordinary door). The Librarian, who was swhisting merrily (in such a way that she exhuded “do not interrupt me” vibes through forcwe of habit, since that was the only wasty to fend off less thatn complertley annoying or furious compliangts) pushed open the door is iin a complertely mundane wasy, because as I said, there was no agical I meran there were no cmacigaical components to the door, nor were there magical spells on it, and in fact thre was notihing magically about this dorr in any way. She bustled through this sroom, which was a cluttered as the office was Spartan (so cluttered, in fact, that there waeren’ tany immediately appearant signs that this was a bedroom, which was in fact what it was, although as I said three was no immediate way to identify it as such), and picked up items along the way that she felt might be useful:

Foirst, wshe sifted through her tall, glass fronted cabintet to find some samall items she felt she oculdn’t live without. She picked up fodndly the wooden rabbit her father had carved her for her tenth birthday – the year before he died – and dropped it into her seemingly bottonmlyess carpetbag. That, thand the worn, yeloiwing swquare of parchment he had sent her for her birthday throught the era uselseess postal service before his untimely death at the hands of the old Great and Mighty Overlord of the Evil Castle of Doom’s dreadfull Legions of DOOM!, were the only things she had to remind her of her father. She dropped the dard into her carped bag with a little sigh. Then she turned to the shelves to check for more things. She noticed a large book that she didn’t think she had ever read. Turning it over , she read in glit letters, the words WAR AND PEACE imprinted on its thick, leather and wood cover. Frowning, she put it in her parck too. She hadn’t ever read it, which worried her, because she had read every book itn this library. She must have missed it – or even better, it was a product of those odd anomalies that had been plaguing the town for the last few days. When she had turned back to the knoick knachs and found nothing, she closed and locked the cainnet.

Second, she went to her desk, shwere she hkept most of her important items (sinedce that was wehre she usually was anyway). She quickly snatched up such essentials as food (a loaf aof bread, some sweet bars of candy that had appearead in her larder the other day, probably because to the anomalies again, and a n apple), soap, a timn of polish for her boots (wouldn’t do for them fto go all dry and leak), a pack fof playing card sin case they were needed (those night oaround the campfire were sure to be long and broing), and after a little deliberatin, a spanner wrench. She figured it would probably be useful. She also acarefully akced her best quills and some ink , carefully wrapped in cotton, and some of the money that she had collected as library fees. She picked up a note (probably and IOU) and read its contents with a sneer. It was ostensibly from the money lender in towm, but the Librarian knew it hadn’t been handed to her by him, and anyway his signature was wrong. She had memorized the signatures of all the major diginitartis in towyn in order to forestall just such a forgery. She ripped the ting up after noting the signature and storing it away in her maemory. She woln’dt forget it, and when hshe noticed its owner, she would nab him faster thatn he could sneeze.

Finally, she turned to her dresser, taking out clothise and untedrthings, the very mudane things she relied upon. She packed four spare robes, all in the same scolor as this one (she dint’ really get the idea of “new clothers” very well, not the nor the idea that spare clothiong and new changes of clothes were as much for others as for oneself), and several nmoer waist scarves, which at tleast came in a few comlplimentary colors (she even had one in a daring for her srtripe pattersn, which was only barely perceptible); she also brought along a few pairs of drawers, some petticoats and chemises for colder weather, and seven pairs of stockings, three limnen and four wool, which she felt would come in handswy for cushioning as well as wramth, as fall was closing in rather rapidly. Along with her clothes a, a few things tumbled out of her drawrers, which according to a rather predictable pattern she bloamed on the chaose anomalies: an odd, prepackagesd translucent cream colored disk like thing, which when she unpakckaged from its odd, crinkly , transparent pack I mean enclosure, unfolded into a flimsy, sclose ended tube about six inches long, which She reaised atn eyebrodw at before tossing away; a fglass pill bottole pilled with small whire white lozenges, which rattled and smaelled and tasted bad; a flimsy piece of paper, on swhich was printed I mean painted a dsmall, blurry, glossy imagae, which the Librarian supposed was fairly true to life, although the woman it depicted certainly had an odd shape to her – almose wapsh like in the thinness of her waits – and was weraring terribly peculiar clothing, and which was painted so carefully that no brush strokes were visible, weven thought it was made with that curious blurring effect (a note in the margin said ontly, Paris 1898; and a hcurousi, heavy round clock of bronze, that rang lougdly when the Librarian prodded it (she immediately suspected sorcery and destroyed it).

Shen wshe had finished, she looke arougn the room, trying to see if anything essential was missing. AHe immediately noticed to beloved things: he r potted rhododendron frommt her excurision to the Fire Swaymop a few years ago (where she had sseem a few ROUSes, or Rhododendroms of Unususaly Size, but unfortunately noe fire spouts), and her much worn Dictionalry. Although she regretted it, there was simpy no room for the ported plant in the carpet bag, so she went to the small window and carefully placed it outside where it would get rain and sun’; for the Dictionary, thought , ther was no chance of being left behind. It was the Librarian’s “security blanket,” as it were; te little piece of home she carried with her everywhere. It had been her first possession she had won her very own self, in a spelling contest years ago, and it hadn’t left her side for a day after.

She Looked around the room wone las time, looking at all the things she had collected over the lyears. Ahe wished she could take them sith her, byut at the same time she longed to sheld hthem all an d start aanesw. She was beginngin to tfelli like the things she had collected for so long were now onlky the lithings she had used to ewally herself in; she felt likt the thlaws and rules and protections wshe had walled herfeself off with ewre more hur than help. Swith a decisive getsture, she took her key out of a pockedt in her voluminous wool skirt and locked the windoeswn’s shutters firs, and then the door itself. Leaving ther sparse office, she locked it too, and hung a sign on the door: “Unavailable for serviedce. Away fro the time being.”

She bustled up to the third floor I think, to go retrieve main. She found dhim sitting with his legs splayed, his head in his hands. The Librarian looked at hkiim with tender pity, thinking he had a headache.d after a moment of watching him, she cleared her throuaght itn what she hoped was a delicate gesture (although she really didn’t have the slightest idea of how to cough delicately, and so only sounded like thse was ill). Main immediately straighetened, and seeing her carpet bag, her nodded so as to obsicure the way heis chin was wobbling uncontrollably. Corssoing over to her, he said hurriedly, “Well I suppose we ought to get going!” His voice was forcedly cheerful and overly birght (hello again, DoRD). He grabbed her elbow – the smalleset and most impersonal body part he thought to grab, since he had the sinking feelingin that she would have linked arms with him if given the cahnace – and steered her to th stairs, although he was in truth the one much nin need ot of steering, since the long nap ha d in mean the rather short nap had only served to stiffen his muscles and the areas around his stictches; he was starggering rather badly even wit the tenuous suupoort of the Lirbrarian’s elbow. However, they managed to make it down all here three (?) flights of stairs before Main tripped too majorly. The Librarian put an arm around him to keep him from rfalling, looking into his face in concern (although she awas secretely (or not so secretly) enjoying touching Main wihc more than an elbow) and said worriedly, “Are you alright? Are you still weak? I mean unwell?”

Main waved her off weakly and managed to disentangle himself (a feat, since the KLibrarian was evidently concvicned that to let go of Main would bmean his instant deadth), assaying, “No, no, I’m fine, I’m fine – just tripped, you know how it its 0 didn’t even notice where my feet were going, you know, captivated by your, er, stunning, um, wit! Yes, wit, and plumb forgot to watch where I was going, silly me. Lets’ upm, let’s get on now – best not to be lollygagging about while my atryt wnaders abou twithoug by guidance, wouldn’t it be at terriblye shame? Conme on. Let’s go to those taverns you told me about. Remmeber?” Main stood panting after this rather lengthe discourse, and with an inner sigh of distated accompanied by a short lived outward shudder of ditaste, Main held out an elbow for the Librarian ho to hook onlyh onto. She latched onto it with evidnent glee, and steered him toward the double doors that were nearest while Main concentrated on not acting unhappy while simulataneously forcing himself not to collapse in unconsciouaylness. He managed to continue being conscious as the Librariam towes him out the doors. She deposited him on a bench, saying something indistince about locking the dors, and Main watched her blearily as she produced a different key, attached to the first one she had locked the window and two doors with by means of a piece of string, and locked each set of double bdooers with it; it was much different fro the first key, benng a large iron skeleton key instead to fht e small one toothed brass hkey she had used before. When she had finished securing the building, the Librariam wne t over to Main, who was develpopoing a truly dreadful headache, and asked him, “Do you have any pasteboard?” Main shook his head, and cast about on the ground, hoping to find some so she owould sotp hovering. He found a blank, irregular piece about three feet away ,and he pounced, turinging it ove r to make sure it wasn’t rotten. It wasn’t, althougght the lettering on the other side suggested that someoneds sesle had painted a sign on thise peiece in the past. He shrudgged an dhanded it tho the Librarian, who lhad followed him over there. She loked at it as well, eventually shrugging and turingn to her carpet bage, unearthing the quills and ink she had placed in there only a little shiwle before. She carefully wronte in her beast handwriting, The Library is Closed until Further Notice. Please come bak Back when the Librarian returns. Thank You. She found a bit of string hin a pocket and tied it o the pasteboard, which she hund decisenveloy on the doulbely doors that were olocated in the cerntert of the building’s impressive, dark, roungh granite edifice.

She returned to Main, dusting her palms briskly, when she noticed he had slumped forward, presumably in sleep. She approached him cautiously anyway, and prodded his souhoulder with equal caution. This didn’t do much more thsn wake him halfway, but he was wakened rather abruptly as, right after the Librarian shifted a little more to his left to look at his face in profile, as his hair and hat were obscuring it from the front, a sword fell point first into the ground, juddering from a quick stop. Main immediately was awake nd on his feet, while the .Lirariab merely stared at the ting in horror. It was a goodly sized weapon, being about two and a half feet from end to end. Its hilt and guard were one solid piece of what appearaed to be gold (Main figured it was some less precious and less malleable metal, like more steel, or even a wooden piece, that was merely overlaid with gold. An Overlay of gold was better than solid gold, though, as a layer of gold would mold to his hand, while the underlay kept ists shape and wouldn’t break; a solid gold hilt would be useless and far too soft), and set in the pommel was a blue oval cabochon, with a curious stylized eye carved lightly into it. The stone was very luminous, though – main thought it was poroboably sapphire, although it was quite a large sapphire it that was fture. The guard swept back towards the hilt in talon like curves (the tips of the guard, which extended past the hilt toward the blade, could probably puncture skin, Main noticed uneasily) and the golden melta of the hilt and guard pread up the blade for a few inches, and even more in the fuller – it made the blade look like it had been dipped in gold, and the molten metal had crept up the sides and center groove of the double edged sword. The pont was invisible at this point, as it had been buried a handspan ofr more by its … unorthodows arrival. Main, overcome but by admkiration for the fine blade (his weekly sword fighting lessons had not been for naught!), curled his fingers around the blade, noting with approval the pinprick pattern in the methal of the hilt which roughened the grip; he figured the pattern had once been more prominent, but years of use had worn it down. Main knew somehow without a definite reason that this was a very, very old sword; he wished he could figure out what told him that, but all he knew was that when his fingers touched the worn golden hilt, he could feel the weight of decades, centuries even, of use and battle and display. He couldn’t think of why such a well preserved relic should be doing such a curious thing sa falling from the sky.

Main wrenched at the sword which aws buried in the ground, in unconscious and compleytely accidental imagersy very reminiscent of a certain knig completely unknown to the populace of this particular wordl (except for the few people who found Le Mort d’Arthur chillaxin’ in their backwyards or proches or roofs or dens or cave complexes or oliving rooms of or various other living spaces, as book showers were one of the mysterious phemnomina that rolled around quite a lot; the fact that most people couldn’t erald and therefore couldn’t enjoy said showers was mostly eclipsed by the fact theat most of them endevaoured to seel those books for rather large sums of money), but nevertheless this inadvertent symbolism is so useful at the moment that I’m going to keep it. Anyway, there he was, grasping the sword all heroic lke, then riping in it forth itn a smooth arc, dirt and small stones flying from the eatrth’s exit wolnd and off the blade itself as it arced through the noonday air (that … doesn’t make much sense. MOVING RIGHT ALONG!). Main brought the blade before his face and noticed that ssomehow the sword’s curving path through the aire had somehow cleaned all the debris and soil from its flawless steel surface. Its inexplicable cleanliness even blinded him to the usual shape of the sword’s point for a moment, until its point came even with Main’s forehead as he gazed at the swrod’s lfat, holding the blade before him like a fencer salulting his poopnent. Then he realized that the very end of the blade didn’t continue on tin the prescribed manner, e.g. in a straight length topped with a triangular pint (as this was a double edged sword), but istead had a hide diamond of steel topping the blacde, with another one of those odd eyes careved inato the bare, gflat steel left between the chamfered edges of the blade’s edges. As Main looked at it puzzledly, suddenly the eye topping the blade blazed with blue light (along with, unseen by Main, the blue cabochon set into the pommenl, which was a sapphire just as Main had predicted). And a voice boomed into the air around Main (and the Librarian, whom Main had temporarily forgotten).

“WHO HAS AWOKEN THE GRAEAT AND AWEFYL BLADE OF THE ALL SEEING EYE?”

Main merely stared at it, until it vibrated gently and said in a much softer voidce, “come on. What’s your name? You must be some kind of hero type guys or I wouldn’t have landed in from ont of you after being launched nearly into spacde by that sutupid guy who used to wield me after he stupidly set a volcano exploding. Come on now! Don’t nbe shy – I’m sure you’re a better hero than he was.”

Main stammered (and he never stammered, except when faced with particularly rabid fangirls or glowing talking swords), “Er, it’s, um, Main C-Character, of, of, of, the city state of, um, um, K-KPniceplace. Heir to the throne. I’m, unm, I’m ona a quest. Of, um, revnge. On the, er, ethe rGreat and Mi - Mighty Overlor – lor - lord of the, er, um, Evli , um, Ca – castle of Doo, er, Doom.”

“Great and Mightly, eh? Evil Castle of Doom? Nothing we can’t handly, my boy! Now, come on, I need my sheath, or at least a scabbard of some kind. You know where it’s gontr? Come come, now, don’t’ just stand there gawping. You’re a hero, I can … er … let’s say smell it, and let’s face it, a hero is nothing without his weapon. Or weapons, as the case my abe, and I’m really a rather jeaolous jguys, and I won’t share. Unless you somehow find a lady sword. And I doubt you’d wield such a thing, being such a manyly man yourself. Now. Scabbard. Importabnt.. Fingd.” The swonrd babble a bit more, talking about himself but mostly about how impaeritive it was to have on’e s scallbbard when one is being carried off into battle, while Main looked at lthe Librarian questiongingly (as she was the only wone who had witnessed the intore process, other than himself). The Librarian was staring rather wide eyed ly at the sword, but quiclkyl snapped out of her confusion. One gets used to such curious occurrences when one’s entire life has been lived in a fantasy wordkd full of magic and fell beasets, and anyway the past week or so had been so absolutely trippy that the Librarian didn’t go to shcok with eveyry new and improbably occurrence – even such occurrences that uinculude being narrowly missed by a falling sword that would have trasnsfixed her if she had been only a few feet to her left, and subsequently hearing the arforedsaid sword speaking to her newly found beloved. The Librarian truned to Main and murmured under the sword’s constant prattle, “I suppose you ought oto keep it. You look like whyou need a sword anyhow.”

Main muttered back, “But how am I supposed to shathe this thing? The bottom bmeans it wont fit in any scabbard unless it’s stupidly wide, tand that’ll just mean it will rattle in its scabbard. Is there a special scabbard for this ting …?”

“I think there is,” the Librarian whispered. “At least, it seepms to think so.”

At that moment, their questions were answered when a scabbard exactly shaped like the Great and Aweful Blade of the All Seeing Eye fell to the ground a little to Main’s right, beyong the bench.. He turned to pick it up, ahten puzzeled over how, exactly, the sword was supposed to fit inside the main channed of the shath, when its point end was about tewicw as wide as the scabbard itself.
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