Samwise adds that though this is Zexen land, Cogsworth used to turn Zexens away at the gates, “but now things are slack.” I don’t get how they could turn Zexens away when 1) this place is partially owned by Zexen, 2) Zexen apparently has the right to appoint masters of domain here, and 3) Samwise is wearing a goddamn Zexen military uniform. She has the fucking Deer of State on her shield. Hello?
Frodo admits at this point that he doesn’t know much about either Zexen or Grassland. Turns out he’s from the northern Outlands. Maybe it’s just my mental image of the Outlands looking like the Australian Outback, with nothing but desert and opal mines (yes, everything I know about the Outback is from The Rescuers Down Under), but Frodo really doesn’t look like an Outlander. He needs to be more leathery and mean-spirited, like Martha. Anyway, Samwise asks what brought him here if he’s not from the area, and Frodo answers that it’s a long story. This is RPG-ese for “He doesn’t want to bore her with the details, but we sure don’t mind boring YOU.” Cue the flashback.
Vinay del Sexay, Council Chamber of Chris the Ice Queen’s Bane. Frodo is standing before one of the mean Council members (it’s times like this I wish I had given them all nicknames à la the Jedi Council), brandishing a letter from his dearly departed mother. “Oh, yes,” the Council member says. “I remember something about that. So, you finally made it, eh?” Frodo answers “Uhhh…” because he’s too intimidated by this man to respond, “Yeah, that would be why I’m standing right in front of you, dillhole.” The Council member thinks for a moment, then says, “Come to think of it, I know of a castle without a master. What was the name of it? Oh, never mind. I’ll think of it and make the arrangements. I’ll appoint you the master of that castle. You won’t be any trouble there.” The Council member then takes a long, refreshing sip of his Iced Tea of Irony.
Frodo doesn’t know what to make of becoming master of a castle, as he’s but a simple boy from a simple background, but the Council member has made up his mind. “Once I finish the arrangements,” he requests, “could you leave Vinay del [Sexay] immediately? It wouldn’t be good for you to wander about here.” The Council member apparently doesn’t want anyone to know he had a one-night stand with a hobbit lass. He adds, “Well, this gets rid of two problems at once. How fortunate.” Frodo’s all sad and shoulder-sagging because his absentee daddy called him a problem. Woe.
‘Well, except for you.’
Samwise waits patiently while Frodo drowns in his “tragic” past before telling him that all his predecessors had backstories too, so he shouldn’t act like he’s some Unique Snowflake. Well, she’s much nicer about it–I would bet that she’d even be interested in Frodo’s lame flashback, because her life is boring and lacks sepia-toned drama and excitement. But even without seeing how put-upon and special Frodo is, she says she’s sure he’ll be an awesome master and that she expects “the best.” The best what, Frodo wonders, slightly frightened.
Frodo’s met everyone who was present at the previous evening’s meeting, but there’s still this Juan to meet. The mystery man is down the steps south of Martha’s Money Pit, lounging at his bujutsu stand. Another wardrobe winner: Juan is dressed in a teal-and-white jumpsuit that’s one color on the left and one color on the right, like those shirts Garth Brooks wears. This fully seats him on the fashion disaster side of the table, but to cap it off…his hair. I can’t even describe it. My first reaction was that he had a spiky corncob growing out of his forehead. At any rate, there must be enough hair spray in his bangs to keep Vince Neil and Brett Michaels both stocked for a month.
When Frodo introduces himself to Juan, he cheekily replies, “A new master? Again?” Frodo’s already received a few hints that this place goes through masters like toilet paper, but he still plays dumb. “Since our original master ran away three years ago,” Juan obliges, “there’ve been three more. None lasted more than a month.” In other words, the Council hasn’t exactly kept up on appointing new masters. Oh, and Buttfuck Castle is a life-destroying, dream-crushing manor of despair. Happy to have you on board, Frodo!
While the camera angle treats me to a Frodo ass shot, Juan explains that usually these masters are second sons of noble families, and get shipped here as a means of getting them out of the house. This doesn’t really make for good management. Juan also voices his opinion that Frodo will be no different and will be out of here in 30 days or your money back. Frodo doesn’t really know how to respond to this, so Juan shoos him off because he doesn’t like having his nap time interrupted. For the record, Juan’s nap time fluctuates. In that it’s all the time.
Well, that was a thorough waste of my time. And it only gets more interesting from here. Frodo returns to Buttfuck Manor to find Cogsworth in considerable panting distress. “I’m terribly sorry,” he says. “I forgot to send a letter to the Knights.” Oh noes, not a letter! The world will stop spinning on its axis for the trouble this will cause! Cogsworth elaborates: “The Council has to approve a change of castle master, and nothing can be finalized before the letter of approval has been sent to the Knights. I completely forgot about it.” I thought Frodo’s Council-daddy was going to make all the arrangements. Why is this even a problem? Why should Cogsworth have to send a letter to the Knights when it was the Council who made the appointment? This is so stupid.
Because there are so many to choose from.
Cogsworth also lets out that there are no messengers handy to deliver this letter–since Buttfuck Castle is freaking bankrupt!–so Frodo agrees to walk the letter to Ass Castle himself. Again with the lack of sense-making. Just because there are no messengers doesn’t mean the master of the castle should have to go. Send fucking Juan or something. But Contrivance is neck-deep in this one: Cogsworth enlists Samwise to accompany Frodo to Ass Castle on this Deliver the Totally Crucial Letter mission, otherwise known as the “Get Frodo and Samwise Some Levels ‘Cause They Suck and Need Bonding Time” mission.
Frodo and Samwise have a short conversation about encountering “Curly Snails” out in the Grasslands, and whether Frodo has a sword to defend himself from the assuredly penis-like monsters. When he admits his sword is really crappy, Samwise chirps, “No matter. My sword will protect us both.” Except she has a spear. Good one, writers.
When Samwise joins the party I notice she and Frodo have a unite attack called Best Effort, the use of which makes Frodo exhausted unbalanced. I am trying really hard not to make an off-color joke about that. Being as small as he is, I’m sure Frodo has had no end of ribbing over his inadequate sexual performances, and he doesn’t need any more of it from me.
The journey to Ass Castle passes fairly uneventfully, though Frodo and Samwise’s meager supply of healing items is slimmed down considerably thanks to the need to keep their hit points–16 and 20, respectively–replenished. But at least Samwise and her sword spear can dispatch monsters with relative efficiency. Frodo can’t even kill Furries in one hit. It’s a miracle that he can take on the little holly guys without getting himself killed.
Frodo and Samwise both goggle like stupid tourists within the walls of Ass Castle. Frodo calls it “incredible,” and could have left it at that, but has to go on, “It’s totally different from our castle. This one looks like a real castle should.” Samwise is wounded. Wounded, Frodo. “I think our castle’s wonderful, too,” she guilts. “We’re all working hard to protect it, you know.” Oh, Frodo, you ass. Now, this is not to say that I don’t agree with him–I mean, Buttfuck isn’t even really a castle. It’s just a large manor with some other little buildings and a low rock wall. Christ, the mall is a castle by those standards. However, way to crush the girl’s feelings, idiot. Even if you are gay and you’re going to end up having midnight trysts with Juan and Cogsworth, there’s no reason to be so cold-hearted.
SAD FACE. 🙁
Frodo fake-apologizes and quickly tries to change the subject, asking her where he should be going with this letter. Samwise is all, “Whatever, let’s just wander around till we find the right person, YOU MEANIE.” It’s at this point Frodo realizes that he is not the only one in their group of two who has never been here before. “The last master never stayed long enough to merit my escort,” Samwise adds, smirking vindictively. Man, given that Frodo has been master for all of a day and a half, that last guy must have run off quick.
The two of them are about to walk into the castle itself when a large figure comes out the other way, brushing roughly past both of them. It turns out to be Bubba. It’s amazing poor Samwise doesn’t have gashes up and down her face from running face-first into his shoulder spikes. “Oh, excuse me,” he says tersely. “I am in a rush, as I am about to head into battle. I apologize.” Frodo stammers that it’s fine, no big, but Bubba is already taking in Samwise and her ridiculous armor getup. He initially mistakes her for a recruit, and she corrects him, explaining their real reason for being here. Lame as it is. Bubba doesn’t really care, but he does suggest that any letter they have should probably go to Tootie. Frodo, who is not from around here, asks for this helpful man’s name, for whatever reason. What, does he think Tootie is going to ask who recommended him? Bubba seems slightly put off, but introduces himself anyway. Samwise freaks. “What?! You mean, [Bubba], as in [Bubba] of the Six Mighty Knights? Wow. This is incredible. Ooh! Stay calm, stay calm!” Oh, isn’t that adorable. Bubba blushes a bit and rushes off before he manages to earn his very first fangirl. He’s heard what they’re like from Percy and really has no interest in having any of his own.
“Is he famous?” Frodo asks after Bubba’s gone. No, he’s not. That’s why Samwise soaked her skirt just hearing his name–because he’s a totally average guy. Samwise does her fangirl duty and recites the names of the Zexen Six for Frodo. “Wow, that was incredible,” she finishes. “I’d only heard of his name before. I’m so glad I came.” TMI, Samwise.
Inside the castle proper, Frodo and Samwise come upon Roland, Lavender Elf of Indeterminate Sexuality. “Umm, we’d like to see Sir [Tootie], please,” Frodo tells Roland, like Roland is a freaking receptionist. But Roland is very polite and points them in the right direction, though he adds that Tootie’s preparing for troop deployment and might not have time to dally around with their stupid letter. “Deployment?” Samwise asks. “Is there going to be a war?” Roland explains what we not only already know, but have seen from a couple different viewpoints: Zexen and Grassland are going to war because of a surprise attack by the Lizard Clan. Hey, at least it gives us a clue to where–er, when–we are in the larger timeline, even if it is redundant information. Samwise looks very sad to hear this, and Roland excuses himself. When they’re alone again, Samwise explains, “The Lizard Clan never seemed that terrible to me. They just look scary. I’m surprised they’d attack without warning.” From this we know that Samwise has a good bead on the real temperament of the Grassland clans, and that she is not at all intimidated by thick, meaty tails.
Before going to speak with Tootie, Frodo and Samwise randomly decide to look around the rest of the castle for more Zexen intrigue. They find it in the weapons storage room, as they inadvertently stumble upon Borus and Percy having a little tête-à-tête. Borus apparently wants to get something off his chest. If it’s “I’m in love with you and I want to have hot Chiki Star/Chimou Star sex against this sword rack!” then he’ll have to pardon me for yawning at this non-revelation. Percy chides Borus for looking so forlorn. “Fearless, reckless Borus–the man who doesn’t even know the word ‘consequence’–is troubled?” he smirks. Borus replies, “Don’t tease me, Percival.” Oh, the subtext. I am fanning myself over here.
Percy finally asks Borus if this angst session has anything to do with Karaya Village. Well, given that it’s not about hot man-on-man smut, it’d better be about Karaya. Percy’s all, “Don’t tell me you’re…” and Borus cuts him off, saying he’s definitely not thinking about reneging on his pledge of fealty to Lady Chris. I wonder if that’s what Percy was actually going to ask about. I mean, there are any number of ways he could have finished that sentence.
Loading ...Borus is still hemming and hawing over what’s bothering him, and walks over to the nearest wall to let out some tension. Not like that. He could use Percy for that. He gently touches his metal-gloved fist against the bricks and moans, “It’s not bad to be passionate, especially about your work. It’s a good trait for a knight. We live and die by the sword. But I went too far! I let anger control me!” Percy tries to be a supportive lover and says he would’ve done the same thing had he been there. But Borus is inconsolable. And here comes the wall-punching. “But when a knight starts to attack unarmed villagers,” he grits, abusing the mortar, “he’s no longer a man. He’s an animal!” Percy knows it’s not the right time and that Borus is very upset, but damn, is this talk of savage passion and living by the “sword” turning him on. I can tell Percy is thinking this because he goes “…..” What else could that mean, other than “Take me now, right on the bujutsu teacher’s table!”? That’s what I thought.