Kenneth holds up his hands, "I get it, I get it. I wasn't always this amazing, ye ken. I used tae just be a handsome lad with a guitar who only went tae half his courses at the U and who needed tae sleep but spent his time partying instead...." ...though, I suppose, if we replace 'party' with 'destroying the things that go bump in the night', maybe things aren't quite so different...
He chuckles at the thought, then sobers, "I'm just worrying that the Formor might be able tae accomplish something that makes our life rougher while we're off on our wee slumber party. But, ye win. If things arenae coming for a few days, then aye, we'd best rest. As wondrous as I am, I'm still mortal, ye ken, and need tae sleep eventually - and I'd far rather dae it in a bed now when it's safe than when I'm surrounded by a pack ay rabid fish fingers."
He stretches himself up to his full height, "So then, I guess we'd best be finding a nice comfy place tae sleep. Mayhap stop off for a nightcap or four, as well, if we're off the clock... though that's easy for me tae say, I pretty much cannae get a hangover anymore."
"So. Unfair." Sal mutters quietly.
She gives Kenneth a keen glance. "Do you think we should do more here? We could always ring the monks and warn them. They had people at the park. I'm sure they are clued in." She grimaces. "My inclination and training are to get in place and entrenched before the enemy arrives. That's not always the best thing to do, though. If you think we should do more here first, I'm game."
With a grin, she adds, "Including a nightcap."
Danny holds up one hand to signal he's in as well.
"Give me a double. And make it a Triple!"
Danny gives Kenneth the side-eye.
"Seriously? You CAN'T get a hangover? I have to admit, that's a pretty awesome power right there. Although, If it means that you can't get DRUNK,... I'm still young enough to say,... Dude! That SUCKS!"
Danny says the last bit in his best 'Bill & Ted' voice, and grins.
Edwyn treats the security system with the care one would give a ticking time bomb, delicately moving the wires back to their default positions. Granted, they were a mess, to begin with - if they left them as is, he wouldn't be surprised if no one noticed that the thing was even tampered with.
"What a coincidence," he remarks as he puts away his tiny little tools - suspiciously similar to those found in a glasses repair kit. "My line of work also involves being entrenched in one spot for long periods of time. Usually with lots and lots of coffee involved. Anyway, we should probably warn the monks before we turn in. So they can... ready their defenses?"
He reaches into one of his jacket pockets, only to find a crumpled cigarette box, still empty from earlier.
Holy crap, this day hasn't ended yet, he realizes with a grimace.
Sal pulls out her phone and starts whipping through some screens.
"Let's see... Lindisfarne... hey! There's an entry for Lindisfarne mead, something about 'St. Aidan's Winery.' So, um... should I ring that number and warn them? Maybe it won't be the right monks? And what do I say? 'Hi, my name is Sal. My friends and I were at the Viking festival this morning when it was attacked by Fomor and our investigations show you guys might be the target? We'll be there tomorrow to support you?' Wow, if you're not clued in, that sounds super insane."
She casually kicks Danny in the ankle. "Hey 'brother,' you got that jar of honey in your pocket? Check and see if it's St. Aidan's, wouldya?"
Danny shoulder bumps Sal back.
"Sure thing 'Sis'. her ya go."
Danny pulls out the jar of honey and holds it up so they both can see it.
Kenneth says, "Well, tae be fair, if there's a body here a bunch ay Christian monks would listen tae, I'd imagine it's you, Sal. Depending on what kind ay monks they are and how they cleave tae traditions, I'm as like to be burnt at the stake as listened tae, ye ken. Except a'course the missions dedicated tae Brigid, where they tried tae undo the old worship by claiming her as one ay theirs."
He takes a moment and then says, "Though I dinnae think leaving a voicemail is like tae be the best way tae deliver that news. I'm thnking that's a 'face time' kind ay chat... Though I will say, a lot ay monestaries ken a whole lot about brewing, so maybe this still works out with the idea ay raising a tankard."
"Here I've been picturing a crossover between Friar Tuck and Crouching Tiger," Edwyn remarks, only half seriously. He withdraws his phone from his pocket and checks the time. "Well if you all don't mind clocking in some overtime, we could always head in that direction now. Maybe they'll give us the grand tour, explain a bit more about what's going on. Maybe even a bed, or at least a spot to camp out on their lawn."
Danny shakes his head with a grin.
Kenneth-my-friend, I like the way you think!"
"Yeah, probably best if we tell them face-to-face. Even if they ARE all 'clued in', getting a voicemail or phone call, (Do they even HAVE phones?!?) is likely to get us hung up on as crank callers,"
Sal fiddles with her phone a bit more. "Run up there tonight? That kills a second happy hour. According to Google Maps, it's about a 3 hour trip. There. We'll be waking the monks, unless they have taken a vow of sleeplessness." She grins up at the tall bard. "Of course, that'll make the heathen burning ceremony right about daybreak. Should be lovely, on the beach and all."
Kenneth shrugs, "Maybe we go in the morning then. Let everyone get a few pints and some sleep, as well as having the time tae pick up some marshmallows a'fore a lovely bonfire in the twilight."
"I'm good with going now, if you like. Is driving while drinking illegal here?" She stuffs her phone in her pocket and gets out her keys. "I trained at one base in Texas near a place called the "Double Shot" - a drive-through liquor and gun store. Ah, Texas. I miss it, sometimes."
Kenneth says, "Well, tae be honest, I was rather liking the thought ay an evening tae misbehave, but if I'm outvoted, well, as I said, I've a Holy Flame tae keep me going - and tae burn away any alcohol, if I let it. So, there's nae a thing tae prevent me from going now, other than vast personal disappointment."
Danny snickers.
"Well, FAR be it from us to disappoint you!" He grins.
"As long as ONE of us is sober. Enough to drive we can have a nip or dozen, leave at the crack of stupid, and still get there in time for the heathen roasting at sunrise!"
"And if you're bringing teh marshmellows, I'M grabbing the Hershy's bars and graham crackers. Whats a bonfire with Smore's? AmIRight?"
"I'm in on the misbehaving! But you can have my s'mores. Those things are disgusting." Sal looks around the evening streets. "Where to? Back to the... hey, we could check out the Green Tree, see if we can find that Brackenthwait chap."
Kenneth nods, then laughs, "Ye ken, Sal, you're getting far tae good at sneaking business intae our plans for pleasure... 'Tis almost like sneaking kale intae our smoothies."
Sal slaps a hand on her chest and winces. "Ow, Kenneth, right through the heart! Heck, we can grab a couple of bottles and do shots at my place. Or raid Trip's - he has a great wine cellar."
Danny nods Far too enthusiastically.
"I'm down for either. Or both! Trip does have a nice wine cellar. AND i've gotten VERY fond of some very sharp cheddar I found down there with the bottles. I hope he wasn't saving that for anything,..."
"Oh, hey!" Sal suddenly points at Edwyn. "We have a newbie who's never been to Trip's!"
Kenneth says, "Well now, that's something worth fixing..."
Edwyn raises an eyebrow. "Trip's? That's not another pub, is it?"
Danny laughs.
"Oh no. It is SOooooo much better!"
"Disneyland for drunks?" Sal offers.
"I have the key since I'm there every weekend working on the meat-wagon. We don't even need to wake Fothergill, since the old fossil is probably in bed by now." Her voice is full of affection that belies the name-calling.
"You have your cute little Mini? Ride with us or follow us. If you follow, don't lose us - it's dark out there."
"Hey, I grew up in tiny lil apartments and such. His place is more like DisneyWORLD to me!" Danny quips.
"But... isn't Disneyland.. y'know... big?" Sal asks, then shrugs. "Never been to either. But we can go to Trip's NAOW. Let's goooooooooooo!"
She beeps the doors open and climbs into the giant vehicle. "All abooooard!"
Kenneth shrugs, "Only ever been tae the one in Paris, so I dinnae ken what you're both on about."
Danny shakes his head, grinning like an idiot.
(Some might say that's redundant?)
"Naaw, that's where you Non-Americans get confused. DisneyLAND is the original, smaller park in California. DisneyWORLD, including all of its surrounding sister parks, is the large one in Florida! Land of mosquitoes and overpriced everything!" Danny adds as he climbs in the car.
"I thought they were both big..." Sal slams the door on her own chatter, starts up the big vehicle with a bit of a roar, and heads out of town, taking it granny speed to be sure she doesn't lose Edwyn.
The country lanes get very dark indeed before Sal pulls in at the open gate in a wall, into a yard between a garage and a lovely old country pile. She parks smack in front of the garage door, leaving plenty of room for everyone else.
Hopping out, she jingles her keys waiting for the others to disembark from their rides.
"It's nice having wheels, but I miss the days of having to race the other women to catch a ride behind you," she teases Kenneth after he turns off his bike. Not lying, she thinks.
When Edwyn departs his Mini Cooper, she apologizes. "I forgot to do the obligatory 'It's so cuuuuuuute!' squeal about your ride. I thought it, though. And it is adorable."
She unlocks the back door into the rear entry, shushing everyone. "Don't want to wake the ogre guardian of this place."
Kenneth stabilizes the bike and then laughs, "Aye, well, tae be fair, they didnae stand a chance when ye started shooting them in the legs. However, more than happy tae take you for a ride whenever you'd like, for auld time's sake."
He heads forward and then winks at Danny, "Didnae I tell you that a classic bike's nae just useful against accidental hexing and tae provide an excuse to always wear a leather jacket without looking like a tosser -- it works its own magic on the ladies."
He smiles again, then stops when shushed, chuckling at Danny's song, "Tae be honest, I was expecting a joke about hunting wabbits."
"Yeah, THAT'S lined up in my Que too,..." Danny whispers back to Kenneth.
"I'd take offense, but lucky for me, it's just a rental," Edwyn replies curtly, as he remembers to manually lock the car's door. That alone made it a dinosaur in his book.
He follows Sal's lead as he sizes up the place - definitely not a pub.
"Ogre. Right," he repeats, pen tentatively hovering another box on his mental checklist.
"Secret, secret. Hush hush hush!" Sal whispers, pushing open the door and leading the way into the mudroom.
As the group enter, a rather prim and trim man in a tailored suit walks out from a side room to the front study. "OH Gracious, Young Miss. I see you have brought some friends home." Fothergill waits for the affirmation, then his bearing changes from attention as his shoulders relax. There's a hint that the older gentleman, would have been prepared to throw-down if it was a negative.
"Is there anything I can help you with?" He asks with a genuine helpful smile.
"Great stealthing, guys," Sal grins.
Talking as she joins the older man, she introduces them. "You know Danny and Kenneth, of course, and this is Edwyn. He..." She falters for a moment, a shadow falling over her face. "He helped me more than I can repay when I was stuck in Amsterdam. Edwyn, this is Fothergill." She takes the older man's arm fondly.
"We're planning to have a drink and maybe resupply in the cellar, then we're off to Lindisfarne in the morning to worship at the meadery, maybe stay a couple of days." She pauses again, not being proficient in the classic English skill of understatement. "There's been some trouble from the water today at the park, and we want to be sure that doesn't happen on the Holy Isle."
"Well, you know where the reserve is? Both the cellar and the shed." He says with a suave understatement, the latter referring to the weapons safe. "I did have my cousin in the Highlands send over a nice crate of Scotch, I'll go fetch a bottle or 2."
"Lindisfarne you say? Give Brother Bellcher my regards, if you could find a nice jar of honey that'd be good." He moves to the doorway to the kitchen to fetch the whiskey. "Do you require some food, we have some Voakes Pork Pies, a nice piece of beef...."
Danny blinks, and pulls the jar out from his jacket pocket. He takes a look at it, to memorize the label, and holds it up.
"Honey?" Danny says with a grin.
"If we're going to be 'Resupplying' in the cellar, I'll gladly trade you some of that beef for this!" the singer says, handing Fothergill the jar.
"Early 'thank you' and apology for waking you up so late. I'll ask Brother Bellcher if he can help me out with another jar or two of apology." He winks.
"Eurgh," Sal comments. "You might want to wash that jar. I've seen where it came from."
Danny smiles and shrugs in an 'Sorry, but she might be right' gesture.
"Fun fact. Did you know that Honey can't spoil? It can crystallize, but as long as you dont introduce anything into it that bacteria can grow in, like water, it literally CANNOT spoil? They've found jars of honey in the pyramids and stuff that were still good!" Danny rambles cheerfully, unaware or uncaring that yes, this is probably common knowledge,...
Kenneth shakes his head, "Aye, I dinnae ken if that's what I'd be calling 'fun', though likely part ay the reason honey's used by a lot of traditions in making potions and the like. Then again, I dinnae recommend your start using what you find in a druid's lab tae spread on your morning crumpets."
He shakes his head and adds, "If this keeps up, I'm going tae need a bottle ay two tae myself just tae make Danny seem interesting."
Danny gives Ken 'The Eyeball'.
" What? Hey, You KNOW I speak whatevers on my mind. Even I admit they can't ALL be doozys! I save the best for the right times."
Sal mimes jerking awake from a nap. "Huh? Were you saying something?"
"Come on in, Edwyn, don't stand there. The goodies are in the basement." Without further ado, she heads down into the cellar to check out the 'shed.'
Obviously familiar with the place, she unlocks a cabinet and starts pulling out weapons. "From the pictures online, Lindisfarne is flat - seriously flat. Raised castle or town or something, high walls. My baby might be useful there." She pulls her favorite collapsible sniper rifle from the cabinet and starts popping components into place and checking its function and readiness.
Kenneth says, "As long as ye can find a vantage, ay, I imagine it can. Dinnae suppose ye've Brigid's bow down there? I'll have tae rely on my fiery imitation? Or is this another one ay the times the plan has me elbow-deep in baddies swinging a blade?"
"I think I saw a pile of Brigid's bows in the bottom of that trunk over there," Sal points. "If you want to fight like a mere mortal, there are all kinds of shooty and pointy things and even some explody things."
She looks up at the tall bard, the spark of an idea in her eyes. "Heeeyyy... you should teach me how to use a sword."
Danny, from his vantage point of examining which particular bottle he planned to attack, first. Blows a raspberry.
"Yeah. Sure. Because you absolutely are not dangerous enough already!" He grins, and mimes ducking for cover.
"Now, if Ken wants to teach ME how to throw fireballs, or fiery ninja stars, or something that doesn't hit like a big, fluffy pillow like all of my illusions, THAT I'm interested in!" he adds, bringing over a couple of bottles he found.
"All I can do is shoot stuff. That's easy. Point, aim, squeeze. Any idiot can do it. You might be able to."
"I'd definitely attend classes Headmaster Kenneth taught." She waves Danny away. "Later. Booze and firearms don't mix. Of course, you can get started if you're not planning on arming up."
"Pfft! If ANY idiot can do it, I'm MORE than qualified!" Danny agrees cheerfully.
Danny looks at the growing pile of ballistic weaponry, and sighs almost sadly.
"Yeah, I mean, I know which end is the DANGEROUS end, and I'm smart enough to point it at the OTHER guy. I'm not even half bad on a shooting range. But the range isn't usually shooting BACK! In a firefight, with everyone mixing it up, with the supernatural? I'm as likely to be causing a friendly fire incident as taking out a fish-face. I'll stick with my fluffy illusions, thanks."
Danny salutes Sal with a bottle of brandy, pulls the cork with his teeth, spits it out, and takes a healthy swallow.
Sighing in contentment, he plants a bottle of Scotch he found on the table next to Sal and Kenneth.
"WHEN your ready! Come and catch up! Ed and I will be sure to leave SOME for you guys! Come on Ed!"
Kenneth pauses, blinks, then nods, "Aye, I could at that... 'Tis a bonnie idea.. And, tae be fair, I might need tae learn tae use one ay those.. 'mortal' things, as you call 'em, in case there's e'er a moment the magic is failing me... though.... let's keep away from the ones with bells and/or whistles, in case a body gets frustrated and makes the techy-things go boom."
He winks and says, "So, aye, I'll show ye mine if ye show me yours."
He turns to Danny and says, "I made ye a potion tae dae that. If ye need more than that, maybe join the White Council? Though I dinnae ken even a centuried-old poxy wizard can beat anything intae that skull."
"You think it's a good idea? Really?" Sal seems delighted. "Awesome! I'll even wear a schoolgirl outfit." She grins wickedly.
"Edwyn, if you need something, come check out the weapons locker. You seem like a sensible guy that doesn't shy away from advanced rock throwers."
Kenneth laughs, "Ach, Sal, I'd already said yes, ye ken. Though I amnae saying that your shouldnae be wearing that."
He closes his eyes for a moment, reaching into himself and the tri-aspect Flame he finds there, the echo of a much more powerful thing, and reaches to the Forge. He opens them a moment, studying Sal's figure (and having a reason other than personal enjoyment to do it), then puts his hands together, closing them into fists... He then mutters a single word in Scotgaelic, "lann", and bands of orange-red flame start to wrap around his right hand, weaving themselves together into a basket-hilt. He repeats the word, and starts pulling his left hand away, the fire creating a blade just over half the width of his palm, pausing briefly to look at Sal again before continuing, then closing his hand to taper it.
He spins the thing in his hand, then offers it to Sal, "A claighbeag, though a few inches shorter than mine. It willnae last long, but test the length and weight, see how it feels in your hand... and we'll ken what tae look for when we fetch you one made ay steel."