Just One of Those Nights in One of Those Places
Let me tell you a tale, dear viewers (and I know you're not viewers), a tale of woe, loss, love, and shadow. A potent combination whether shaken or stirred. My drink was neither as I surveyed the seedy bar. Nothing was as it seemed in these parts. Sure some low-lifes like the spoony bards were to be expected in a dive like this. At least the momma's boy plucking the harp was quiet. His what could only be described as atonal violation of what I am sure was perfectly undeserving catgut was almost completely drowned out by the shrilling death throes of his partner on the recorder; at least we hoped he was dying based on dissonant trills proceeding from his tool. Thrust on school-children worlds over as a cruel joke, the recorder is the only instrument in the history of creation meant to sound terrible enough to destroy their self-esteem enough to make them quit music forever. Tragically, our bard was ever undaunted in the face of the misery on all of our faces. Truly, dear viewers (and I know you're not viewers), the cackle of demons feasting on my very soul while scratching a chalkboard would have been blissful relief. So much for the entertainment.
Imagine my utter dismay as I turned back to the barkeep to see goober McBowtie staring back at me. With hair about as greasy as he wanted to look classy, his cracked knuckles and the wanderlust in his eyes told me that his refinement went about as deep as his tan. Someone not worth the trouble, looking to be trifled with.
"The lady tells me there may be a problem here." He said, trying I'm sure to sound intimidating but subtle. I bet he thought the music was subtle as well.
"Ah, is that what happened to my beautiful bonsai?" Fair enough. My leafy courtesan had been coy at first, letting me think I was taking the lead as she reeled me in. But it takes a bit more than some flirtatious foliage to get me to drop my guard. Nice dryads in seedy bars are generally not so nice in the end. She must have thought me a sap thinking she could have me pine after her, but things turned a bit wooden when she noticed me plucking a red rose from her buxom bounty while she spiked my drink with some green nectar – the same drink I was still nursing now. Oh well, I wasn't here to make friends anyway.
"Hey, pal, we got a problem or you want something else?" my most petulant publican prodded.
"No problems, my good barkeep, in fact, I'll take a bottle of your strongest stuff. Make it a real knockout."
Glad at the opportunity to pedal his swill and glibly grumbling about me not finishing my first drink, he descended into the cellar. I had half a mind to lock the door behind him, but now was not the time for making scenes.
Surveying the pub once more, I noticed the beggar girl, to whom I had tossed a few coins when I first entered, now warming herself by the fire. Perhaps she was smarter than I gave her credit for. Not only was the fireplace the furthest from the bards, but maybe she hoped the crackling wood drown out the "mellifluous" tones of our "euphonic" entertainers.
Continuing my survey, I spotted my bonsai plying her trade on a new victim. A veritable beast of a man, he seemed very amused with the dryad's devices as he blew smoke rings to her feigned delight. I wondered if anyone else noticed that his cigar wasn't lit. Catching my gaze, he nodded, confidently, challengingly. I blew a smoke ring of my own from my pipe and bowed my head to acknowledge his mastery of the skill. No need for disrespect…one should never unnecessarily perturb a sleeping dragon after all. He seemed satisfied, and his attention reverted to the lithe lady before him.
"Well, don't you have a way with people," said a woman sitting in the shadows at the end of the bar. Obscured by the darkness, all I could see was the glowing tip of her cigarette at the end of a long filter. She made her way toward me. Her steps were smooth, but sure. Her eyes seductive but steely. Fearless, but feminine, she was as formidable as she was fair. Taking a seat next to me, her raspy voice still echoed in my head. As the cigarette and pipe smoke lazily floated about our heads, it felt as if the rest of the world just faded away. The music gave way to just silence, her voice, and giggles. Time stood still or flew. Who could tell? My heart was no longer mine. I nearly lost myself that night.
Leave it to the truculent tapster to ruin everything…and save me. Hiding a maniacal menace about as well as bikini hides a plump girl's figure, he slammed a large bottle of "his best stuff, a homebrew recipe" on the bar, jarring me back to reality. "One swig of this," he grandiosely proclaimed, "and you won't know what hit you until morning, maybe not even then." If only he could have appreciated the irony then.
"I guess it's time then," I said, staring one last time into those seemingly bottomless eyes of my new companion, pocketing my pipe. "Perhaps, in another reality…"
With that I conjured up a large force field right in front of our musically-disinclined minstrels and slammed them into the wall behind them. "Finally, some relief," I said looking at what I thought would be the approving crowd. Guess not.
"Alright buddy, that's it," I heard shouted from what I presumed to be the irate barkeeper who I imagine had taken the time to roll up his sleeves to fight me. Sadly he never got the chance, for as he grabbed my collar to turn me around, I grasped the bottle he had recently produced for me and smashed it across the side of his head. He was right though, he never knew what hit him.
Recognizing that a full-on slugfest was about to break out, I had to move quickly. Taking a healthy draught from my original beverage, I locked lips with my new femme fatale friend, spewing the tainted tonic down her throat. She went limp in my arms, but was still breathing as she reverted to her true form. And just in time as I had to duck to dodge a blast of flame. Seems my sweet bonsai had enticed our dragon friend to take me out. I was a little insulted since he did not even bother to stand, but I appreciated the underestimation. He launched another salvo, but being better prepared this time, I used my force field to deflect it back at my little bons…well, I guess bonfire might be more appropriate now.
Truly enraged now, the monster of man rose, smoke and anger seething from him. Quickly, I cast a force field around his head. The smoke and bellowing flames only served to limit his sight and oxygen further. But dragons are not so easily smitten. He came crashing right at me. To call him a bull in a china shop would be insulting to him and far too ameliorative to the bar. He was more like a rampaging dragon in a piece of crap bar. Eventually, however, he fell. That just left me and the beggar girl.
"Please don't," I said, pleading with my eyes.
Her eyes, however, were aflame as the ash from the fireplace and now burning bar began to swirl around her. "You are a bad person. Bad people just destroy things. I will..." I'm sure she tried to finish that sentence, but the reality is she did nothing. With a large flash of light and powerful burst, the coins I previously had given her burst in her pockets. Not true bombs, nor were they fatal, but they were certainly enough to keep even a phoenix down.
Taking out my pipe, I lit it with some burning rubble. "I'm a bad person. Right. Just fought a dryad, rasp, and dragon and endured the moans of those alleged musicians to save the world from terribly destructive relics. I'm the bad guy. I'm not even supposed to do this. I'm a technician, not a hunter. Don't even have back-up…"
As I hopped over the remains of the bar, I reached for my prize on a shelf labeled "belt of beatdown,"…classy. In reality, it was relic from a time gone by that could rend space itself. "Time to take you to the Reliquary," I said, relieved that everything had gone according to plan. But my hand phased right through it. "A Hologram?"
Leaving the bar and a trail of smoke from my pipe behind me, I headed west lost in thought, "Hologram…Sarafina…Relic…Aria…RUNIKA!"