A Very Welcome Visitor

I was at the library again yesterday, buried in piles of books that were mostly useless and mooching the free wifi. The library in the town I'm currently staying in has great little study rooms, fantastic for privacy (and not half bad for taking a nap in relative safety). I'd taken a break to check on my email and the blogs when I got an email from Picasso asking where I've been staying. I told her, and a couple minutes later there was a knock on the fire door at the back of my study room. I grabbed my staff, just in case, and opened the door.

I don't know what I expected to find, but it certainly wasn't Picasso, looking pale and beat up but grinning at me. I helped her inside and fussed over her injuries, but they really weren't anything more than scrapes and bruises, which she was more than happy to point out to me. She played with Jill, who was admittedly glad for the attention considering I've been inside libraries a lot lately so she's been feeling a bit neglected.

It wasn't until after dinner that she got to the real reason she'd come to see me.
"Have you figured out what makes you dream of Sam?" She asked shyly, looking... almost nervous

I shook my head regretfully. "Not yet, no. I'm going in after him soon, though."

"You found a way?" Her eyes went wide.

"Not really. I'm knocking myself out and hoping really hard that that takes me to him and that I find something that either confirms it's real or that it's fake."

"Well I was thinking... If it is real... maybe I can rip a hole into it..." She looked excited to be able to help, but I was confused.

"What do you mean, rip a hole into it?"

"Like I rip a hole open when I use the path right...?"

"Do you think you could do that to other places?" I was just stunned at the idea.

 "Maybe... I never tried."

"I don't want to put you in danger."

"Fuck that! I got super powers! LETS SMASH SOME DOORS!"

"Let me at least try and confirm it's real before we put you in danger."

"I'm not a hapless child." She glared, looking away.

"I know that. I don't mean to imply you are. But I hate seeing you get hurt, and I want to avoid that if I can."

She groaned. "Fine! Jerk." Picasso pouted at me, but I stood firm.

"I'm sorry. I'm just scared. I don't want to lose anyone else."

We spent the rest of the night goofing off and playing with Jill, and this morning Moth showed up and took Picasso back to wherever they were staying. For the first time in a long time I have some hope I might actually be able to make this work. I'm going to go looking for Sam as soon as I can.

Research

I've been putting off this post, because I keep hoping something will come of the mountains of books I've been pouring over. I'm running out of places to look here, I'll probably move on to another library soon. Maybe somewhere else will have the information I'm looking for.

It's actually surprisingly easy to track mentions of the monster through history, if you know where to look. I was surprised to discover that I'd run into mentions in the past-the Der Ritter of German folklore. I'd never paid much mind, I was studying warfare, not folklore, so I didn't really care to look into it.

There are descriptions of children taken and people killed, as well as lots of discussion of it both in a practical, half mad Lovecraftian sort of way and in a detached scholarly manner that makes me wonder if they even knew they were writing about something real.

There are exactly no useful mentions of any instance of the monster imprisoning an adult against their will. None at all, so far as I can find. The closest I can find is this. There are some books that back up this theory, though they usually also tend to assert that the monster is a manifestation of the devil.

I've come to the conclusion (with a little help from a friend) that my best bet is to go in and try to get more information. I plan on checking out the environment thoroughly, as well as seeing if I can get any more useful information out of Sam himself.

I realize that the logical conclusion here is probably that none of this is real. But I can't give up on him until I exhaust every option. Maybe that makes me stupid, maybe that makes me gullible. But I love Sam, and I can't just let him suffer.

Hitting the Books

Still no luck finding anyone who's even heard of anything like what's happened to Sam. Instead of answers, I've gotten a series of ever more sympathetic looks as they condescendingly explain that him being alive is impossible, and that it's very sweet that I don't want to give up on him, but that I should really let go.

I have a very sneaking suspicion that people think I'm not very bright when they say this. I guess it makes sense, I'm a big hulking black 'man' who's been homeless for years. None of that is associated with intelligence in this country. That's partially my fault. I've let myself get lazy, taught myself to act less intelligent to blend in.

I know I mentioned a while back that I have 'an unused degree', but I've never talked about it any further. I graduated Summa Cum Laude with a BA in Medieval History eight years ago before going on to pursue a masters in Medieval Warfare. I may be a big burly guy with a stick, but when it comes down to it I'll always be a researcher first and a fighter second.

Fighting hasn't done me any good so far, so it's time to crack open the metaphorical books and see what I can find. I've stopped off in a town with a big library. I'll post as soon as I find anything.