Transcript:Life in a Corner, Part 3

EPISODE THREE:
 Dream sequence: 
 Int. Endless Banquet Hall - Time Unclear 
 NARRATOR
 Brennen dreamt of an infinite table. Well, we’ve
 already covered the limitations of the human mind, et
 cetera et cetera. He dreamt of an incomprehensibly long
 table. The table was like one that might be found at a
 banquet, narrow enough so that guests sitting along one
 long edge of the table may converse with those sitting
 along the opposite long edge. This particular table was
 set for an, ahem, infinite number of guests, but only
 three figures sat around the table. Brennen sat alone
 on one side.
 Across from him sat a young girl. Her appearance was
 exactly the same as it was in Brennen’s previous dream,
 down to the eerily serene look and gaping puncture
 wound. Beside her sat a figure composed entirely of
 white light, a golden halo sat on its head. Between
 Brennen and the two figures sat a large, ornate silver
 platter, which one would expect to hold the main course
 of the banquet. This platter held the beautiful bird.
 The bird was splayed out on the silver as if stuffed
 and roasted, yet clearly still lived. It lifted its
 graceful red-and-gold neck and looked directly at
 Brennen. The bird’s obsidian eyes caught Brennen’s
 brown ones for a brief moment, before the bird weakly
 lowered its head. The girl spoke.
 YOUNG GIRL
 There are seven things you must know to save me. The
 second thing is: the King has loved my enemy.
 NARRATOR
 Brennen remained silent. Perhaps he was considering his
 response, perhaps he tried to collect his confusion
 into a question to ask the dream forms. If so, he never
 got the chance. From the darkness behind the girl and
 the creature of light, a third figure materialized.
 This was the nightmare demon, the indescribable horror.
 Neither the girl nor the figure of light could see the
 demon behind them. In the fashion of nightmares,
 Brennen found himself unable to act, unable to warn the
 girl, unable to tear his eyes away from the demon.
 Almost casually, the demon extended a clawed hand and
 tore out the throat of the figure of light.
 The horror carefully lifted the golden halo off of the
 light and placed it on his own head. As soon as the
 gold touched the dark skull, the figure of light
 NARRATOR (cont’d)
 disappeared, its luminosity rapidly fading to nothing.
 The demon lifted the bird off of the table, its red and
 gold wings protesting weakly. As the demon tore off the
 bird’s head with its teeth, the golden halo turned red,
 and blood poured down the demon’s face.
 Int. Location Unclear - Early Morning
 A Few Minutes Later
 Int. Briarhelm Barn, Ground floor - 
 NARRATOR
 The sun had barely appeared over the horizon the next
 morning when Brennen entered the barn.
 REGAN
 Good morning old man. Have you seen your charming dear
 friend? He seems to have disappeared.
 NARRATOR
 Regan was sitting the final watch by the door; the rest
 of the group still slept soundly on their hay bales.
 BRENNEN
 You’re aware that farmers do actually have business to
 attend to sometimes?
 REGAN
 This early? Keith Kelly had business to attend to.
 BRENNEN
 Keith Kelly...
 REGAN
 The one back at the Rat, that sold me out. Whose face I
 set on fire before I drowned him in his own blood.
 BRENNEN
 I’ve been killing men since before your mother was a
 coin in some street urchin’s pocket. Captain Briarhelm
 served under me in four campaigns.
 REGAN
 I bet he did.
 BRENNEN
 You think you can frighten me with threats of violence?
 Or him?
 BRENNEN
 EVERYONE UP! THREE MINUTES TO GET DRESSED AND ARMED!
 Ext. Briarhelm Farm - Twenty Minutes Later
 NARRATOR
 Some twenty minutes later, the group stood in their
 best guess at a military formation in the field outside
 the barn. Their best guess was woefully inadequate.
 Billy was wearing an odd mix of his old football gear
 and his new mail, with the extra pieces in a heap at
 his feet. Jen’s hair was dreadfully tangled in her new
 armor. Even Nelson’s armor was disheveled, in that some
 buckles were belted to the third hole, and some to the
 fourth.
 BRENNEN
 You should all understand that, had we been ambushed,
 you would all be dead right now.
 NELSON
 It’s my understanding that knights would usually have
 squires to help them put on armor.
 BRENNEN
 We don’t. Plan accordingly.
 REGAN
 So do you two still fuck?
 BRENNEN
 You impudent little whoreswhelp, you know nothing--
 REGAN
 --I don’t care what you put your cock in, Brennen. I’d
 just rather know beforehand. Secrets and spurned lovers
 are a bad combination.
 BRENNEN
 Secrets and disrespectful children are even worse.
 REGAN
 (RE: THE KIDS)
 Good luck training your fierce warriors up there.
 NARRATOR
 With that, Regan turned and left the barn. Brennen
 stood in silence for a moment, marinating in his anger.
 After a deep breath, he turned to the task at hand.
 NELSON
 I’m just saying I think we did pretty well for a first
 attempt.
 NARRATOR
 As if to defy Nelson’s claim, the codpiece of Billy’s
 armor chose this moment to clatter loudly to the
 ground. With a sigh, Brennen set to work. The first
 lesson was in the use of sword and shield.
 BRENNEN
 Nelson, try to strike Billy. Billy, try to block it.
 NARRATOR
 Nelson needed both hands to even get his sword off the
 ground. With a great heave, he managed to swing the
 weapon towards Billy. The motion spun Nelson’s entire
 body in a circle, and he nearly fell from the effort.
 Billy hefted the weight of the sword more comfortably,
 but no more correctly. As Nelson’s swing slowly
 approached Billy, Billy managed to move his own sword
 into the path to block the blow. The swords clashed.
 Rather, they would have clashed if either combatant had
 any strength or skill behind their blows. Instead, the
 swords made a rather dull thud.
 BRENNEN
 Wrong! How do you think they blunted those swords?
 Block with your shield, that’s what it’s for. If you
 absolutely must block with your sword, try to deflect
 the blow. Come, Billy.
 NARRATOR
 Abandoning hope for training Nelson with a sword,
 Brennen took up the task of training Billy personally.
 The old general made an exaggeratedly slow swing of his
 own sword directly at Billy’s shield. Billy smiled at
 his perceived success.
 BRENNEN
 Better. Again.
 NARRATOR
 Brennen took another swing at Billy, and then another
 and another. Billy’s use of the shield was surprisingly
 not abysmal, until the weight of the metal and the
 shock of the blows began to drag on his shield arm. In
 a few seconds, he was struggling to even hold the
 shield, but Brennen would not relent. The old general
 continued to batter Billy’s shield until he dropped it
 entirely. One sharp tap to the top of the helmet and
 Billy was flat on his back on the ground, breathing
 heavily.
 BRENNEN
 I thought you said you were an athlete.
 NARRATOR
 Brennen quickly realized the futility of teaching the
 finer points of swordsmanship at this moment, and
 assigned them the task of working on their arm strength
 instead. Billy found a suitable beam inside the barn
 and set to repeatedly hefting his own weight against it
 in a tactic he called a "pullup." Nelson and Jen were
 resting behind the barn when Nia approached.
 NELSON
 Are we gonna learn any magic?
 NIA
 The General wants you to learn some basic fighting
 skills quickly. You won’t get far with magic in just a
 few days.
 NELSON
 Well I don’t exactly think we’re cut out for
 broadswords.
 JEN
 I dunno, I might be able to get it if I work out a
 little more.
 NELSON
 Let’s face it, Jen. Neither of us is what you picture
 when you think of "famous swordsman."
 NIA
 I see your point. Have a seat.
 NARRATOR
 And so the day of training continued. In the nearby
 forest, a rabbit -- in fact a distant descendant of the
 venerable Mr. Fluffy Toes -- did honor to his ancestor
 by participating in the noble task of creating new
 rabbits. This is not particularly relevant to our
 story, but is more interesting than describing ten
 hours of practice with sword and shield. The children
 worked hard and slept well. The next morning, they
 reacted to Brennen’s three-minute wake-up call in a
 mere eight minutes.
 BRENNEN
 Getting better. Today you might have even had time to
 beg for mercy before your enemy delivered his killing
 strike.
 NARRATOR
 Thus convened another rather boring day of training.
 The children’s skills slowly improved. The progeny of
 Mr. Fluffy Toes continued to strive towards providing
 the world with more of his own descendants. Brennen
 continued to drill the children in basic swordwork.
 Their skills slowly improved from "embarrassing" to
 simply dreadful. They earned a break for lunch, and
 then in the afternoon Nia began to teach the children
 about her abilities.
 NIA
 We are in Iorden, the physical world. Selbirin is the
 spiritual world. Everything in the Iordic plane - the
 wind, the sea, the rocks, everything - has a
 counterpart in Selbirin, almost like a reflection. Each
 Iordic object is bound to the will of its Selbiric
 counterpart. Or, more accurately...nevermind, let’s
 stay sketchy. The Iordic ocean is wet because the
 Selbiric ocean wills it to be so. To use what you call
 magic is to bend the will of other things to your own.
 In the tavern, I wanted the beer to be cold, so I
 reached out to its Selbiric essence and bent its will
 to my own.
 NELSON
 Awesome. What spells can we cast right now?
 NIA
 You mustn’t try spellcasting without extensive study
 beforehand. It would be extremely dangerous.
 NELSON
 But what if one of us was the Annointed One like in
 Brennen’s dream?
 NIA
 ...I can’t claim to know.
 JEN
 You’re saying water...has a will?
 NIA
 Yes, but it’s not that simple. Imagine cutting a drop
 of water in half. Imagine cutting the halves in half.
 Imagine cutting a drop of water into parts so small,
 that smaller parts would not be water.
 JEN
 Molecules.
 NIA
 Oslits, they are called. Each oslit in drop of water
 has a will. Together they comprise the will of the
 drop. And the wills of all the drops of water comprise
 the will of a sea.
 JEN
 So what about those rabbits over there? Or...or even a
 person? People are made of mol- oslits. Can you ...
 force people to your will the way you forced the beer?
 NIA
 Living things certainly have a Selbiric essence, but it
 seems their wills cannot be bent. The scholarship
 disagrees on why, though this is actually the subject
 of my research. Some have suggested that enough oslits
 bound together may form a sort of wall, greater than
 the sum of its parts. Scripture calls it the
 uncorruptable soul.
 JEN
 Incredible...
 NELSON
 That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you guys about the
 rich mythology--
 JEN
 --No I mean that they’ve developed basic atomic theory
 and an emergent theory of consciousness.
 NELSON
 ...An emergency of what-now?
 JEN
 It’s a footnote in the bio textbook.
 NARRATOR
 That evening, having been dismayed by what she saw
 earlier, Regan took her turn at instruction. She fought
 with her own sword, a modification of the Mooncrest
 style. The blade was thin and razor-sharp on one edge.
 Billy actually managed to get his shield in the way of
 each strike.
 REGAN
 Not bad. You’re bleeding though.
 BILLY
 What? Where?
 NARRATOR
 Billy dropped his shield, using his now-free arm to
 feel around for a cut. Regan took that opportunity to
 flick her blade, almost too fast to see. A drop of
 blood welled up on Billy’s left cheek.
 REGAN
 Your cheek.
 NARRATOR
 Regan called Nelson in for his lesson just after
 dinner. Nelson returned with a cut on his left cheek,
 and also a peculiar stumble to his gait, a telltale
 sign of Regan’s preferred fighting style.
 JEN
 What happened to you?
 NELSON
 (SQUEAKS)
 I was unscrupously deceived.
 REGAN
 (TO JEN)
 Your turn, girly.
 NELSON
 (SQUEAKS, TO NIA)
 Can you make me some ice please?
 NIA
 Of course, child.
 NARRATOR
 Jen only shook slightly as she went off into the woods
 with the armed woman. But when Regan began swinging her
 blade, Jen held her own with the shield.
 REGAN
 Not bad. You’re bleeding though.
 JEN Nice try.
 REGAN
 Good girl. I thought you were smarter than you let
 on...Billy, put your clothes back on!
 JEN Huh?
 NARRATOR
 Jen turned to see what sort of stupidity Billy was now
 getting himself in to. As you might have guessed, Billy
 was nowhere to be seen. Instead, Regan grabbed Jen’s
 hair, pulled her close, and nicked her left cheek with
 the tip of her blade.
 REGAN
 More free advice: Lose the hair, and your little
 gamecock. One of ’em will get you killed.
 NARRATOR
 At the end of the fourth day of training, Billy’s
 skills had progressed enough that he could nearly keep
 pace with Brennen’s drills.
 BRENNEN
 Block! Bash! Strike! Recover! Block! Bash! Strike!
 Recover!
 NARRATOR
 Eventually, however, he still flagged. At the end of
 one particular drill, as Billy’s shield arm slowed,
 Brennen changed the pattern slightly by throwing a
 mailed fist directly at Billy’s face. The punch stopped
 a mere whisper’s length away from Billy’s still quite
 broken nose.
 BRENNEN
 There’s skill to armed combat. Form matters. But at the
 end of the day, you’re still just breaking a man’s body
 until he’s dead. Never forget that, lad.
 Ext. Behind the Briarhelm Barn - Evening
 NARRATOR
 Meanwhile, Jen and Nelson had resumed their instruction
 with Nia.
 NELSON
 So how do you bend the wills of other things?
 NIA
 You must commune with Selbirin. Some, like myself, find
 this easier with the aid of a holy object.
 NARRATOR
 She held aloft her staff.
 NIA
 Others may use song. Summoners employ a familiar from
 Selbirin.
 JEN
 Okaaaay, but none of this--
 NELSON --Wait. You’re telling me I’m not only in a place where I can become an actual wizard, but I can do it by communing with demons and spirits and shit?
 JEN
 (SOTTO VOCE, TO HERSELF)
 Demons.
 NARRATOR
 Something about the word ’demon’ nagged at Jen’s
 memory. It somehow related to a nearly-forgotten
 lecture from Valley Central High School.
 NIA
 Summoning is not to be undertaken lightly. There are
 dark and chaotic forces in Selbirin, as well as
 benevolent ones. Summoners train for years before their
 first conjuration, to make sure they only contact the
 forces they want.
 NARRATOR
 As Nelson became enraptured by the talk of spirits, Jen
 recalled something about a philosopher named Maxwell.
 She focused intently on a patch of dry grass.
 NIA
 And there are some summoners who intentionally contact
 the forces of destruction. I say truly, they lose their
 souls in the process.
 NELSON
 What about incantations?
 NIA
 Some mages find them useful for focusing their minds.
 NARRATOR
 Through her concentration, Jen thought she could detect
 a tiny wisp of smoke rising from the dry foliage--
 BILLY
 --Nelson, are you still up the teacher’s ass?
 NARRATOR
 Jen’s concentration was immediately broken, and the
 wisp of smoke, if indeed it existed, was gone.
 Int. Briarhelm Barn, Second Floor - Night 
 BILLY
 What are you doing over here, Jenny?
 NELSON
 She’s telling us about emergent theories of
 consciousness.
 BILLY Huh?
 JEN
 (EMBARRASED) Something I saw on CSI. 
 BILLY Oh, yeah, that show’s gay.
 NARRATOR
 Later that evening, Jen and Billy had once again
 retreated to the privacy of the hayloft. Billy was
 vigorously applying saliva to Jen’s face. Jen’s 
 facial expression indicated her mind was elsewhere.
 JEN
 How would you feel if I cut my hair?
 BILLY What? Cut it?
 JEN
 Like if I cut my hair short?
 BILLY
 We have to talk about this now?
 JEN
 I was just thinking about it a lot today.
 NARRATOR
 Billy, for once, sensed that there was no recovering
 the amorous mood. Frustrated, he disentangled himself
 from Jen.
 BILLY
 Like how short? Like lesbian short?
 JEN
 I dunno, like, Regan short.
 BILLY
 Is that where this is coming from? You wanna be like
 Regan now?
 JEN
 No, God no. I don’t wanna be like her. But she knows
 how to survive around here. Maybe short hair is smart.
 A BEAT OF SILENCE.
 JEN (cont’d)
 I’m scared, Billy!
 BILLY
 I don’t make you feel safe?
 JEN
 No, I didn’t mean--
 BILLY
 --Fine cut your hair then.
 NARRATOR
 With a sigh, Jen turned and stormed down the ladder, as
 much as one can storm down a ladder.
 JEN
 I need some fresh air.
 Ext. Behind the Briarhelm barn - Night
 NARRATOR
 Jen, indeed needing some fresh air, walked out of the
 barn and towards the empty expanses of fields. Alone,
 she paced under the moon and stars. She paced and
 paced, and the full moon climbed from the horizon up to
 its apex. Finally, she stopped pacing. Jen grabbed her
 hair in a fist, and pulled it in front of her face. She
 stared at her beautiful locks for a long moment. With a
 sigh, she drew the knife from the hilt at her waist,
 and brought the blade up to the base of her ponytail.
 She was just about to chop it all off, when a dirty
 hand grabbed her wrist. A second hand roughly covered
 Jen’s mouth, preventing her from screaming. With
 frightening skill, the one hand twisted Jen’s wrist
 until her grip on the knife loosened. The hand then
 grabbed the knife and placed it firmly at Jen’s throat.
 
 SELLSWORD
 ’Ello, lovey.
 
END OF EPISODE THREE.
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