Back Room of the South Main Garage, Manchester, NH
May 1, 2009, Morning time...

Korshan's head rests heavily upon the soft pillow, wavy jet locks flowing over it in a jumble. His powerfully muscled frame stretches out over the large expanse of the curtain-enclosed bed, unmoving for the moment...deep within the relaxation of sleep's pre-dawn folds. Beyond the heavy curtains that drape down from the canopy, morning's light begins to stream in around the blinds that cover the large glass block window of the room, throwing odd patterns of brightness against the walls.

The Earth awakens slowly outside the walls of the room, the stir of nature's creatures and the city's occupants trickling down through the dim awareness of the mechanic's well earned slumber. Hard work brings that kind of deep sleep. Perhaps a little slowly, he begins to stretch, not yet thinking of what time it might be. The alarm clock that displays the morning's hour is perched nearby at the edge of the bed's headboard. Bright green numbers show that it is already 6:59AM, and the buzzer being armed is indicated by a small bright dot.

There is a sudden twinge of motion in the big man's olive colored face, and black orbs pop into view as eyelids fly open. He stares at the bejeweled underside of the canopy for a moment, a brow quirking as he stretches out his arms. Seconds slip away, and he rolls over just in time to see the flash on the clock as the hour rolls over to seven. "Oh, hell..." is all that the Gypsy has time to mutter before the deafening roar of the buzzer fills the room, the volume having been maxed out again somehow. Reaching for the button to shut it off, he watches as the display flickers madly, and suddenly there is a loud electrical 'Crack', followed by a puff of blue smoke from behind the headboard and several tiny screaming voices. Pulling his hand back sharply, he grabs the pillow and covers his head just a split second before the clock rockets off from the top of the shelf to slam against the opposite bed post and clatter near his feet.

From under the pillow, the large and slightly angry man yells roughly, "Damn you, if you would leave the volume alone it would not do that!" Gibbering cajoles, complaints, pokes and insults fill the air all at once. With a rumbling and gutteral growl, the dark Gypsy retorts, "Oh, really, is it to be like that today? Very well..." There is a shimmer in the dim light that surrounds his sheet lined form, and the cacophony of little voices collectively screech to a halt as the big fluffy pillow begins to glow faintly.

"OhCrapOhNoNowYouDidItNowWhoDidWhatYouAndNowHeIsReallyMadRUN!!!!" Eyes glimmering with an eerie golden light, Korshan wraps a large fist in the edge of his pillow case and swings it in a wide arc, bringing his weapon crashing down against the throng of little creatures that push wildly at one another in a futile effort to get away. 'Fump' The pillow rebounds from the wooden shelf, no few of the little creatures clinging to its surface. The rest scatter quickly, so the big man tends to the clingers by plowing the pillow into the bed and then wrapping it around a bed post with a heavy blow. Little yells of "HeyThatHurtStopOw!" and "WaitIDidntDoItHeDidIt!" with no too few "LetGoOfMeItsYouHeWants!" and a couple of "OhNoNotThePostAieeeee!" follow from the fray.

Laughing deeply and devilishly, the dark skinned man rolls out from the bed baring all and bearing his tightly clenched pillow, giving chase to the little gremlins who ran after the first blow. Catching a small group that is still crossing the floor, he swings the weapon low and sends them tumbling and flying into a nearby wall. "OhNoThisWayNoThisWayGetDownTooLate!!!" preceeds the swing, swiftly moving sreams from gremlins in flight follow. "Ha. Start this with me first thing in the morning and see what you get..." comes the now Enchanted Kinain's unsympathetic reply.

Seeing that another mass has gathered in one corner, Korshan sends the pillow flying with a powerful overhand swing. The pillow smashes the little throng of excited and playfully frightened creatures into the angling cinderblock. Muffled complaints and the sounds of little fists pummeling one another can barely be heard through the covering fluff that holds them back. "WhoHadThatGreatIdeaToTurnTheVolumeUpAgainAndScareHimOutOfBedWasItYou?" And the answer, "NotMeItWasHimHeyThatWasMyGoodEyeOwww!" With the obvious retort, "ItWasNotMeWhyAreYouKickingMeHeyStopHelpingHimThatHurt!" And the collective, "HelpMeGetThisPillowOffICanHardlyBreatheNotMeThePillowOhSo YouWantSomeOfThis?" As the words fade into the sounds of biting, kicking and clawing, the glimmering glow of the pillow fades as well, no longer trapping the little scrappers.

With hands upon hips and broad chest heaving a bit from the effort, Korshan surveys his handywork with a smile and a rumbling laugh. "See what you get, Little Ones, trouble you do not want." Crossing the room, he retrieves the alarm clock from the floor near the bed and places it on the table, noting the chewed through stump of a power cord. "Later we shall see if I can smash two of you into wire that I can fix this with." Reaching into his backpack, he withdraws the wicked cold iron fork, ringing it on the edge of the table as he does so. 'Teeiiiinnnngggg'

A quiet gasp is heard from all over the room, and then the ring of the iron tines becomes the only sound until broken by ammused and threatening words. "Leave this alone until I have time to fix it later." He places the fork across the top of the battered and dark alarm clock. With a shake of his head and a chuckled sigh, he crosses the room to the sink to get cleaned up so that he can get on with his day.