Victor trudged through waves of the muddy stream of water on the road, wiping wet bangs from his face as the rain incessantly poured on. One would expect storm prone areas to have better drainage. Seriously, what was the municipality doing? He had left the comfort of his home to catch a ferry to Oakland for attending the Winter Solstice celebrations, and no sooner had he stepped off the ferry had the heavens opened their floodgates.

Now, he was thoroughly drenched, his clean white shirt was currently clinging uncomfortably to his body and he suspected his patented leather boots were done for. His watch had stopped working long ago, and his glasses had decided to leave their perch on his nose and go for a swim when he was knocked aside by a very frantic fat lady chasing after her poodle, which took off when the thunder roared. He did not look down, fearing for his tailor made formal pants.

The sudden flashes of lightning and thunder that had come along, hurt his eyes and assaulted his eardrum at frequent intervals. Clearly God was in a foul mood today, he sarcastically thought as he saw a tree being cleaved by a bolt of lightning in the distance and felt the ground rumbling with the thunder. What a waste of precious resources and energy.

Spotting the town entrance, he waded as fast as he could in the torrential rain, seeking the warmth and comfort of the local inn.

He booked a room for three days for twenty five silver coins ( thank god for metal money ), and gratefully accepted the innkeeper relieving him of his wet clothes, accepting a warm clean pair of black trousers and a white shirt, and took the chicken soup from a waitress for an additional charge of ten coppers, moving near the fireplace to warm his feet.

Now that he was warm and fed, a different problem crept to his mind.The Sol Fest was not for at least three days. And he has been invited here as a university guest speaker for the schoolchildren. And here he was, in rental clothes right down to his underwear with only 32 silvers in his pocket.

Sighing, he got up from his seat near the fireplace and proceeded to his room, but not before enquiring about his classmate and friend Reid, who was an Oakland local. The waitress was kind enough to write his address on a paper napkin.

He entered Room 302, the room that he had rented, and softly secured the door behind him. It had been a long day, and all he wanted to do at the moment was sleep. All other trouble will have to wait, he decided drowsily.

Taking of his shirt, he carelessly flung it on a chair before a dresser and climbed into the bed, pulling the covers over him. The bed creaked a little, but it'll do.

I need to turn off the lamp, he thought, but he was asleep long before he could put his thought into action. Snoring gently, he turned on his side and slept, as the storm outside raged on.