Day Two

You're invited to a Garden Party!



Remember when I said the steam-chamber-whatever was rejuvenating? I don't think I was in there long enough the first time. First, imagine being stuffed in a washing machine that's rolling down a mountain. Then, combine that with being dragged down a gravel road by an elephant while a small team of monkeys beats you with metal sticks. For eight hours. The combination of senses might be a modern marvel but call me old-fashioned I'd much rather have a nice soft bunny-down bed thank you very much.

Still no word from my traveling friend so I set out bright and early in the morning for exploring. I boarded a steam ship outside of town and headed for the middle of nowhere.


Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeee! I mean, remarkable.

I've never been much of a fan of fast travel — the best surveying tools are your own two little feet, I always say. No point in going anywhere you're not willing to walk to. But the lovely steam balloon ship was a ride and a half and I'm not afraid to admit I giggled like a Pomchild at the view.

From there I trekked halfway across the continent, seeing many a strange and scary sight.




Here I visit the grave of my dear great-aunt Gertrude. Actually I have no idea whose grave it was, what language is that?

But after a few hours it seemed that solo exploration on its own was a little profitless. I decided I should go see what normal Rogwelians do on a normal day, and that way explore a little of their culture.

Back in town all people were talking about was a strange land named Riall, which doesn't exist on any map. After inquiring around I found that the only way to get there was by subway (which was quite literally named).

Riall, as it turns out, is a meeting of the two great continents Elerd and Rogwel. Not the seat of a great summit or a meeting of the minds, though. No, they meet to fight over stuff.


Here I am engaged in a discussion of Forms with an Elerdian counterpart

After spending some time around poisonous beetles and dragonflies (and being defeated regularly by Elerd scouting parties) I was handed, out of the blue, an invitation to a garden party.

Now if you know me, and by now I think you might just a little, you know that I love garden parties. I am a connoisseur of sorts; my favorite in recent memory has to be that of King Nantu of Illyria, where the teas and confections were delivered from above by animatronic butterflies. I had, I confess, a few two many blue rumdonglers and passed out in the lap of the fair princess Rhonda, which didn't go ever well with her betrothed, who was at least four Poms tall and had a bit of a jealous streak. How I escaped a lashing that night is the subject of an entirely different travel journal (and maybe an autobiography).



The Garden Party in Jerit's garden turned out to be of an entirely different sort. First, Count Jarit wasn't attending, much to my disappointment. Second, instead of food, there were monsters. Third, instead of tea, there were angry Elerdians.

When attacking the Elerdians, the monsters would come and bite me on the butt. When attacking the monsters, the Elerdians would also come and bite me on the butt. At least their summons would. It was largely uncomfortable but quite exhilarating.


"help"


Here my helpful friend pretends to be a powerful fighting machine. Oh, you!






Poms Musketeers

The battle was held by Rogwel (for a time, at least) and in a lull in the fighting I took the chance to wander among my counterparts and chat with them a little.

It was a diplomatic gesture, one that I hope will not be ignored by either side.


This gentleman was not one for talking


Here I got to take an enemy summons out for a walk! Adorable!



Here is the crazy bitnip that would run into the middle of our party and wait for her shield to run out.

After a little talking it turns out we shared many interests in common: thread, organ music, watching the sunset on the beach, peanut butter and mutton sandwiches. Though her language was incomprehensible and her ears laughable we both spoke a common Pom-and-Elf language. Maybe I'm being presumptuous here, but isn't that the language of the heart?


Oh, star-crossed lovers!

Sadly it was not to be, for two main reasons. First, I cannot begrudge any lady for trying to kill me once in a while, but to have succeeded at it repeatedly is a little too much to take.



Second, I had to stand on a hill to talk to her.

Garden Party over, I received a message from my friend telling me that she was on her way into Rogwel so soon we'll hear from her. I'd like to say she was struck by lightning or swallowed by a whale or attacked by Pom-pirates. But no. She got lost.

Onward! Poms forever!

-david