The Legend of Randidly Ghosthound

Randidly quirked an eyebrow as Sunan dashed back and forth, carrying the small serving plates and tongs one armful at a time to their place along the long table. Next to Randidly, Sam shrugged with an exhausted expression. His eyes remained fixed on the saddle the kid wore, even while helping set up. “I really have no idea. He just… got it fixed in his head that the coolest characters in stories are the mounts. Haaah… you’ll understand when you have kids of your own. Sometimes, you just gotta hope the fixation passes.”

The sun had worked its way up toward the sky, hanging directly overhead so it avoided the lingering screen of storm clouds completely and just beat directly overhead. Even with the breeze coming across the island, the heat was still a physical presence, humming against all their backs. Hearing their conversation, Sunan paused in his work and regarded the three men very seriously. “Couriers are the mounts of information and substance. Mail is the glue that holds society together. This counts as training.”

Then he returned to his tasks. Further down the beach, Selene and Tatiana squatted next to the smoking pits and poked around; the food should be done soon, based upon their loose schedule. Most of the other attendees for the barbecue were either on the beach on the opposite side of the island or enjoying a cocktail morning on the moored barge. For now, not even the workers who were going to help manage the event had arrived.

Randidly and his companions had the beach to themselves. Which only served to emphasize how strange Sunan was.

Nrorce clicked his tongue and shook his small head at the rushing kid, but Randidly was surprised by how warm the goblin’s expression was. “Honestly, kids will dig up pet peeves you didn’t know you had. All the while displaying less sense than a hedgehog carrying an armful of balloons. But that’s why-”

The goblin's words cut off abruptly as Sunan came hurrying back, picking up more silverware from the pile and carrying it by hand back over to the serving table. With surprising delicacy, Sam patted the smaller figure on the back as Nrorce continued to be unable to finish the sentence. Then he gestured with his chin and the three left Sunan to his work.

“Part of the brat’s energy comes from the fact you are watching, Randidly,” Sam grunted. “Kid grew up on stories of you. With us gone, hopefully, he will tire himself out a bit and get bored. Maybe even play with some children his own age. Besides… brought something special from Donnyton’s distillery.”

As the trio wandered toward the treeline, Sam produced a heavy glass bottle with a glossy black label. Nrorce harrumphed in approval as Sam popped the heavy topper off and took a sip for himself. The goblin went next, making Sam look like a disapproving choir director with a full gulp of the amber liquid. They were on the giant vegetal collective portion of the island, so Randidly eyed the vines suspicious as the plant matter withdrew slightly to allow them easy passage into the maze-like palm-tree trunks.

He didn’t think the vegetation would lure them in to consume them considering he was amongst them, but you never knew what vines were thinking. And he made a mental note to keep some of his attention on the trees to protect the less powerful guests at the event.

The last thing he needed was to birth another blood-drinking plant being. Although the Patron of Blooms would be over the moon at the prospect.

The bottle felt cool when Nrorce begrudgingly passed it over, having taken a second gulp for himself. Randidly hefted it, feeling the weight, sensing the swirling notes of significance and image that had been lovingly layered into the liquid. For a product of Expira, he was impressed by the effort. The distillery clearly had the process down and cared about each bottle they produced.

He lifted the glass bottle and allowed a little of the whiskey to seep onto his tongue. His eyes glazed offer. He tasted toffee and warm hearth and coffee beans and notes of vanilla and citrus rind. Warmth spread outward across his tongue and then crept down into his throat. For several seconds, he felt beyond himself, sitting somewhere warm and safe, wrapped in a wool blanket, looking out at a snow-covered wonderland. A ghost of an image possibility flickered in front of his vision.

Randidly took another sip, careful not to look too hard; the force of his attention would destroy the small image the liquor contained. Nrorce smacked his lips. “Good stuff.”

“Small batch. Everett, the guy who does all of their mixtures, nurtured this one for almost five years. You can feel his care in every sip.” Sam nodded. He snatched the bottle back as Nrorce reached out to take it from Randidly. “And it cost me a pretty penny, so let’s not guzzle it, eh? How much liquor does your body need, anyway?”

“You don’t have another bottle?” The goblin asked in obvious disappointment. Sam’s stony expression was the only answer he gave before he took another sip of his own. Randidly breathed slowly, sitting in the lingering warmth from the alcohol. He even felt the smallest effect on his senses, if just for a moment. This must have been brewed with Classers in mind.

“I never drank much. Or, I never had any age to spend much time drinking or actually drunk.” Randidly admitted. For whatever reason, this return to Expira seemed to involve conversations about subjects he hadn’t considered for quite a while. Some inner sanctum had been pried open and these weird thoughts flitted out. Yet once he started to share- “College parties… but those were more anxious blurs than anything else. By the time I was an adult, the System arrived. And since then, it’s just been a constant slew of threats.”

“Drinking is the silent exercise of wisdom,” Nrorce opined after a fourth deep guzzle at the bottle. At this point, they had almost gone through a third of it. Sam rapped him lightly on the head with his knuckles, swiped the bottle as the goblin glared, and offered it to Randidly.

“Hard to replicate the same sort of relaxing blurriness that drinking provided before Stats were a thing,” Sam said slowly. Randidly took another sip, tasting slightly different notes this time. The new breath of warmth in his mouth seemed to invigorate the sinking warmth in his stomach, drawing a special connection between those parts of his body. For a few more moments, that vision within the liquid hung in front of him. “But for a split second, right as you drink, I think you can recapture that spirit. A small exhale. Poison, but imbued to escape the prison of our thoughts.”

“And our worries for children,” Nrorce suddenly scowled. “To run away from regrets, too.”

Randidly considered the bottle, then spoke with a deliberate focus away from that last line. “Here’s to doors that didn’t exist before in prisons of all kinds.” Then he followed the goblin’s lead and tipped the bottle back, filling his entire mouth with the liquid.

Consumed like this, the fire of alcohol came bright and demanding, seeping up through Randidly’s nose and almost making him sneeze. He swallowed gradually, like a snake engorging itself with a burning comet. Already he could feel his Uncommon Metabolism clearing away the cloying blur of alcohol across his senses, but for a moment he could pretend. He could just allow the sensation to consume his existence.

I might be more exhausted than I thought, Randidly reflected. If I so easily take these opportunities to release and relax. Not for the training, not physically, but something deeper. I’ve gone on for so long, alone, without a break…

Randidly passed the bottle back to the waiting Nrorce. Meanwhile, Sam spoke into the companionable silence. “I have something I wanted to ask you, Randidly. I know you don’t do much forging these days, but I’ve had a lot of requests to make armor with images embedded in them. Any advice for accumulating more significance and making the foundation of those images firmer?”

Randidly’s eyes flickered briefly, remembering that moment that Moonlight Blade had attacked and he had used an image from Sam’s armor to adjust its vector. It had been a deciding moment in the conflict within the Skull of Truth. So if Sam wished to make more armor like that to spread around, you’d hear no complaints from Randidly.

Let the Nexus delight in those small seeds that had deep ties to Randidly himself.

Then his mind turned over the question presented to him. “How to create a better foundation, huh… well, obviously this revolves around Nether; the image can maintain itself and grow because of the significance you manage to store within the armor. I’ve encountered one of your works and honest, what you managed to do is pretty impressive.”

He scratched his chin. “You probably already know this, but spending more time in the refining process will accumulate additional significance, but not in any meaningful amount. Finding an independently significant material… even with the shift on Expira, that might take some time; you’d have to get lucky with a special environment in a Danger Zone. Obtaining related materials, leaning into the connections and stories between them, would probably help more. But again, that requires a pretty significant coincidence. Maybe even a whole series of them.

“I don’t know this will help, but I realized today how deeply I am part of my own pattern. I’m not the origin, just another aspect of its ripples. And I think eliminating that barrier between myself and the patterns- or in your case the equipment, might make some difference,” Randidly finished. “What is your connection to the work? Your role in its story? If you can find that and make it significant… maybe that will make a difference.”

Sam nodded slowly. Then he scowled over at Nrorce, who had just finished the last few drops. He grumbled and produced another bottle. The goblin’s eyes brightened and he rubbed his hands together. “Here’s to not regretting finishing the bottle. If I had nursed it… imagine how long it would take before we brought out more.”

*****

“What is the purpose of the human gathering?” The chimera woman asked. The four of them sat on a small boat, powered through the water on the Scrawl across the wood. The sun smoldered overhead. Todd sat in the back toying with a few more pieces of driftwood. Zack sat in the middle, eyeing the horizon. Ever since they had returned to Expira, he had been on edge, expecting an ambush around every turn.

If Alana Donal hadn’t been there when Huang Li caught up with them-

Zeta, who had been positively enthusiastic about every interaction with the strange creature since they had escaped, nodded emphatically at the question. “For many weeks, I have considered this question. As far as I can tell, humans derive social energy from each other while in close proximity. Some are better at this than others, but all need exposure to each other in order to maintain normal functions.”

“And that can also be through sex,” The Chimera said with the delight of a child who had finally found out how to drive the peg into its proper hole.

Zeta hummed and swayed, causing the boat to rock. “Ahem. No, I do not believe that is always accurate. This barbecue is primarily social interaction, while sex involves the exchange of biological fluids for pleasure-”

“Zeta, don’t talk like you understand sex.” Zack shook his head, his tone carrying a moderate amount of scorn.

“Then you have had sex?” The Chimera whipped her pale eyes around to focus on Zack. His skin tingled; ever since she had casually attacked a group of people they had encountered in the countryside and the combined force of the trio had barely been enough to halt the violence, he couldn’t quite meet her gaze. Even Todd had withdrawn into himself.

“...I have but it was just-” Zack tried to think of a way to describe how anxiety-inducing and sweaty his first time having sex had been. One problem had been the thick summer heat, another was his partner had done it before but was still quite inexperienced and kept saying things like ‘well when my last boyfriend did it-’, and worst of all, he had been hyper-aware of the noises of their breathing and the bed squeaking while their bodies pressed together. Considering how high the Perception was of the average student at Kharon Academy, there was no way the entire school didn’t know what they were doing.

Just remembering that night made Zack flush red.

“Notice the shift in skin hue,” Zeta pointed at Zack. “This indicates arousal.”

“The mere memory allows for that arousal to return? How fascinating. Will one of you engage in sex with me? I’d like to experience it. The moon whispers that tonight would be an excellent opportunity.” The Chimera looked innocently around at them all. At the back of the boat, Todd choked back a laugh.

Zeta made that strained humming noise again, seemingly too overwhelmed by this prospect for its machinery to properly transition. All the while, the current continued to carry them forward. Zack hoped they would make it to the Ghosthound’s barbecue as soon as possible.

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