[Formendacil]

It is unknown if the singers woke up the Barrow-Wight, but it is certain that they woke up Formendacil. Still sequestered away in his broom closet, he woke with a bit of a start as the music, acting as a surrogate alarm clock, broke into his consciousness, and woke him from a most pleasing dream that had to do with the random acquistition of Lego.

Getting up and heading to the washroom, he tested his blood, discovered that he had eaten WAY too much the night before, took a correspondingly large dose of insulin, and then hunted down his backpack. Once he found it, he changed into a fresh suit of clothes. Twas no suit this time, but a more medieval costume. Once he re-emerged from the closet, he was dressed in blue jeans, golf shirt, and looked a good deal more causal than the day before. Once again, he slung his sword onto his belt, and pinned a small elven pin to his collar, and hung a medal of St. Joseph over his shirt.

Then he pulled his breviary out of his backpack, guiltily noting that he had missed both his Morning and Evening Prayers the day before. Heading down the hall, he found a quiet corner in the kitchen, where he began mouthing the Psalter. It was the feast of St. Athanasius, quite appropriate he thought, considering that he was in a place where there was bound to be a few people willing or able to debate a little religion. Formendacil didn't LOOK for such debates, but tended to enjoy them considerably when they came. He was bad that way....