A remembrance of things past in search of lost thread

Another missive from your faithful scout, honorable Chung Quel.

I was describing out conversation with V in my last letter. I begin this letter by noting that we ended that conversation. You see—I don’t leave anything out, as I leave it to you to decide which information is important. You just want it all.

This wasn’t the only conversation that ended that day. We also parted ways with Jimang Guang Zho. This saddened me a bit. There is no way that this guy finds his master without our help. We offered it, too, but he wouldn’t take it. Isn’t that one of the more tragic aspects of human life? We rely so much on others, and trust well placed bears great fruit. But, not everyone has the courage that I do—the courage to treat every stranger as a friend I haven’t met. They are burned once, and they give up their trust in others, and go it alone. Alone is exactly how not to go it, though. I feel so lonely right now, with Dr. Stupiferous not by my side. Well, now that I think about it, Zho isn’t going it alone. He’s going back to his monastery to collaborate with his monastic pals. This is probably for the best for us—more people on the case—but, I still feel bad for the guy. He doesn’t know whose friendship he gave up in the blind pursuit of his master. But he is at least aware that he’s blind, and seeking to life the veils of ignorance from his eyes. He’s no Taoist, but he’s alright in my book. No meat, only beans. Maybe check in on that guy?

Okay, so we returned to hang out with Ibn Eunice and split up the spells from these lich books. These are dumb ole’ wizard spells, so I don’t care too much about ‘em. But—I like the ones that are named after people. Like Bulbasaurs blastoise, or charizard’s charry wood. We got quite a few of those, so all in all this was a pretty good outcome. From there we headed off to Shrenigar.

Gosh—I hope I am not boring your honorable personage or wasting his time. I know that you are in the business of knowing everything, but there are things and there are things—yanno what I mean? There are all these contingencies that really have no bearing on much of anything? Like—let’s say I ate four mouthfuls of beanpaste one day instead of my typical five. Now, the amount I normally eat isn’t really important for anything other than my waistline, powerful attention and self control, dedication to the poor, and commitment to Christ. The fact that I deviated from that one time is even less important. Do you want all of these details too? You’re a powerful guy. I guess that you probably have a whole bureaucracy working below you, reading everyone’s messages, and sending you the important ones.

Circling back to the notion of trust for a moment—how do you know how to pick ones that you can trust to judge which notes should be passed along to you (or to write reports condensing the information even further)? I mean—you’re the guy who knows, so that is like asking a fish how it knows how to swim in a certain sense. I was just thinking—I feel so bad for this Zho guy. He seemed so dedicated to his master that he was willing to awaken a demon, but so dedicated to doing good, that it was the best demon ever. This is a really classy guy. I wish he knew to trust us. Since you know whom to trust, maybe you could teach the folks at the monastery. It would probably help them, and they seem like good people. I mean—okay, I know you are busy. I’m not actually asking you a favor. I’m just airing my concerns for these guys. I used to have very long talks with Jesus in the woods at night where I’d do this. I know you and he must have some sort of arrangement given your commitment to true knowledge even to the point of spurning worldly beauty, so I guess I am talking to you like you are him. But, I mean, I know he goes by a lot of different names in different places so that he can state his message in terms localers can understand, but you are definitely not him. We’ve met in person, and you don’t have that same look of genuine care in your eyes that he does. All of this is to say—I’m sorry if I am treating you in some ways like I treated him. I’m not confusing you two. I know that you know things, but I want you to know that. I just miss sharing things with him. Heck, you’re probably not even reading this. You have this trusted bureaucracy who effectively cuts all the stuff you don’t need to know out of the letters you receive, and one of those guys is reading it and is going to cut it out. Hey—Mr. or Mrs. r Ms. Bureaucrat. I appreciate the job you are doing. It is tough work, and for a noble cause. Don’t let any sentiments you might feel reading this keep you from doing your job. Heck, I know you wouldn’t. Chung Quel wouldn’t have trusted you if you would, and he’s a smart man who knows who to trust. So, keep up the good work. I’m sorry to have added so much in this letter that was waste, so that your job is a little harder. You did a great job getting him the mayowan information so quickly. Or, if that wasn’t you—I’m sure you did a great job of getting him other information in a timely manner. He wouldn’t keep you on if you weren’t so good at what you’re doing. Thanks for your work, it’s important, truly.

Anyway—off we went to Shrenigar. We speak to some locals, and they tell us that Jesus came here after he was crucified. Now, in one sense that is patently absurd. After he was crucified he descended into hell, and on the third day he rose again and chatted with some pals, and then ascended AGAIN into heaven. But, in another sense it is patently true—he went everywhere after he was crucified spreading his message across the globe. What interests me about this place is that he didn’t change his name here. Somehow they probably needed the same message that we needed, not gussied up. Or maybe this was a place he visited before he started to change his name, and things went so badly that he did it after here? He did tell me that he made mistakes too, and that I ought not be worried about screwing up if I was fully dedicated to doing good work. Things would go for better if they would go for better. I wonder if this is the place he was talking about. But—they seem to like him well enough here that they keep telling his story. So, probably it’s not. But thena gain, Utapala is the local hero here—and that guy isn’t Jesus. So, maybe it is. Maybe he drove this town into Utpala’s hands. Well, I don’t know that, and it’s your business to know, so I’ll just leave that in your hands.

Anyway, Utpala was considered a family man, a great mystic, and a teacher of moral and ethical truths. He was murdered far to the south (I know, we saw it, he was murdered by that harrivarma! I want to tell these guys that, but Zombres gave me the stinkey eyeball when I opened my mouth so I shut it). Govinda the hermit discovered this, and then up and left. I wonder who that guy is?

So, we walk north to investigate Utpala’s old digs. There’s a broken obelisk to the north, and a lake to the northwest with some folks. I cast true seeing, and see truly two rakshasas, two other guys, and 2 ladies shining with divine radiance. A pair of pairs and a pair besides! We blast one of the rakshasas, bludgeon the other, and befriend the two other dudes—Deepak and Damadara. They’re trying to dupe the rakshasa’s into helping them find an ancient ratri artifact. We don’t really go talk to Manaka and Sahajania, those glowing people in the lake of jelly

Instead we see some ancient pits and a cursed mound. There are three graves—one for a mouse, one for a monkey and one for a crow. Each has one eye. After all this investigating we finally enter this place, and are more or less immediately attacked by some manitcoprse skelington golems. We take ‘em out without getting taken out ourselves—but much of our healing is taken out in the process.

Look, this not is going tohave to be a two parter—This place is way too unholy to burn messages to you... I’m sorry Your great and noble Chung Quell, I’m sorry member of the divine bureaucracy under Chung Quel that is doing the first review of this note. I’m sorry to you too weasles. I know I wronged you, and I am forever trying to make amends. The only thing my beautiful in this world than your coats is a necklace of black diamonds, one currently being shown to all the world by the lesser master. Well—at least if we’re talking about physical bueaty. Jesus’ soul tops even that necklace, but it’s a more abstract kind of beauty. You have to climb this weird ladder to see it, though. Some perspective thing. It’s in Plato. If you want to read it, check out the last bit of that book (but there are some good jokes in the bits in front of it).