The Chronicles of Saarnia
July 27th, 2010by Ethan
When we last left our hairy-footed heroes, they had settled in at a tavern in the Bushwick parish of New York to wash the dust from their heels and ponder their future. The night grew late, and they did retire. The following morn, Joe the mighty bard took Austigorn and Ethan, king of the elves, on a tour of the Lower East Side of Manhattan, commonly translated as “White People Island”. They did feast upon cheap dumplings at “Vanessa’s” in Chinatown, and got caught in a mighty gale. Austigorn sought refuge in a local shop that specialized in drawings of fantasy stories, and found the clerk therein to be quite comely. They embarked into a tavern that shows True Blood, an epic concerning “vampyres”, to wait out the storm.
The three parted ways shortly thereafter, but a night of revelry still awaited. Samwise and Ethan, king of the elves, did wander the streets of Brooklyn for a time, along a circuitous route that led them across the mighty Williamsburg Bridge, a powerful chokepoint used in defense of White People Island. No army has ever breached Manhattan, at least not since mid-July.
Parts of Brooklyn remind me so much of Midgar sometimes that it makes my heart weep.
There Samwise and Ethan, king of the elves, descended into the catacombs beneath the city, where Samwise took the “Moria” route back to the land of Bushwick, while Ethan rode the Number 6 dwarf-coach uptown to meet Austigorn and his friend Alex (another bard) at the Boar’s Head Tavern, where they found all the comforts of home. There were recordings by Devil Makes Three, as well as Golden Tee, a popular diversion at the Rush Inn in days of yore.
The days that followed flew by in a blur. Austigorn found his Green Lantern rings to be an excellent conversation starter, and atteneded a free Murder City Devils concert in a local park. He quickly found employment at Hotel Delmano in Williamsburg parish, where he concocts fancy elixirs for the local populace.
Ethan, king of the elves, has been deep in negotiations with the local Hasidic population in order to find a house for the fellowship. Armed with his own good credit and Austigorn’s Jewish-sounding last name, they have overcome their lack of paystubs to land a nice 3-bedroom in a favorable location in Bushwick parish. Together he, Austigorn and Joe the bard have spent many nights in revelry, enjoying $5 beer-and-shot combos across the land.
Samwise the Temperate has been juggling his 3 jobs with alacrity. He spends his off-hours sleeping on roofs, eating peculiar food-stuffs and eBay-ing a lot. The fellowship has found the weather to be sticky but manageable, the tortillas to be unpalatable (although the beans and rice are pretty spot-on), and the lasses to be fair. Armed with their trusty iPalantirs, they’re even able to find their way from one place to another sometimes. So far, New York City seems to be a place that isn’t going to totally kick their asses just yet.
