Branwen woke up in a nice, soft bed under a nice, soft comforter with no trace of a headache. That was rather surprising, she kind of expected one after the night she had last night. She blinked a few times, and looked around her. The room was fairly neat, with murals on the wall of scantily-clad night elves frolicking in a World of Warcraft forest. Branwen snickered to herself. She wondered if Wigliff was the artist, or someone else did it for him.

"Finally awake, eh?" the Cube said snarkily. "I'll let him know."

"Good morning to you too," Branwen thought back at the obnoxious Cube.

Branwen stretched like a contented cat and sat up. No dizziness, no fuzziness... even her mouth didn't taste like something had crawled in there and died. This was dangerous... drinking without hangovers seemed unnatural somehow.

Branwen heard a soft knock at the door. "Branwen, are you decent? I brought breakfast," Wigliff said through the thick wooden door.

"Come on in," she replied. When Wigliff came through the door, Branwen was inundated with the scent of fried eggs, bacon and toast. Luxury!

Her mouth was already beginning to water when he put the tray down beside her bed. "A strong, manly geek who can cook? When did the genie start granting my wishes?" Branwen said. Wigliff blushed, and she winked at him, then hungrily began devouring her breakfast.

"I thought that maybe, today, we could find a spot to plan out your house... if you decide to stay in Morrowind," Wigliff told her, hopefully.

"That could be fun," Branwen replied, brushing toast crumbs off her chest. Wigliff blushed again. He was certainly going to be entertaining! "Hey... wait a second... I just remembered something Cube said. It can talk to you?"

"Well, DUH," the Cube replied.

Wigliff shrugged. "Apparently, it could link to me when I touched you... I mean, when I took you to bed... I mean... er..." He just stopped talking then, completely embarassed.

Branwen lifted an eyebrow, and looked at Wigliff. "You don't get many female houseguests, do you?"

He shook his head. "It's usually about three to one, guys to girls that are brought here."

"Why is that, Cube?" Branwen asked out loud, including Wigliff in the conversation.

"More males seem to be computer programmers," the Cube explained. "And HE can hear your thoughts too, you know."

Now Branwen blushed. Oops. Time to stop thinking naughty things.

"A little too late for that," Wigliff thought to her, then grinned wickedly.

After breakfast, Branwen and Wigliff headed outside to explore the town. Rain was grazing contentedly in front of Wigliff's house. Sometime during the evening, Spooky had sniffed his way to Wigliff's place and was waiting for Branwen to come out. He jumped around excitedly and barked and yipped, showing off a nipped ear.

"Did you have fun last night Spooks?" Branwen laughed, ruffling the wolf's fur.

"He's still just a cub, isn't he?" Wigliff asked, letting the wolf sniff his fingers and feet.

"I think he was only about six weeks old when I found him, so yeah, he's still pretty young. I've only been here for a couple months," Branwen answered.

The trio wandered through the curving, chaotic streets of Morrowind, looking at all the styles of houses. Branwen thought it was fabulous. People had created their homes in styles from every era from medieval to modern, and there were even some carefully rendered recreations of buildings from movies and novels.

"Oh, I LIKE that one," she said, pointing to a house that looked everything like a cruise liner, built to fly the skies.

"Oh, yes, that's Tristem's place," Wigliff said. "He's dying to figure out a way to really fly something like that, here."

"There's really not that much here that's mechanical, is there?" Branwen asked. "Not even a windmill or a waterwheel..."

"Well, we tend to use redstone for a lot of our power, so it's more electronic than mechanical," Wigliff explained.

"Cube said something about redstone, what is it?" Branwen asked him.

"Let me show you," Wigliff replied, grinning.

He led her up a gently sloping hill. At the top, they turned around and admired the town in the daylight. "It looks like it was put together by a gaggle of madmen," Branwen said, giggling. The streets meandered where they wanted, with no rhyme or reason, and the strange styles of houses clashed against each other.

"It pretty much WAS," Wigliff agreed. "Now look over here..."

In the valley on the other side of the hill there was a huge, cleared field, studded in a neat array of torches. Down the middle of the field was a dotted line of neatly carved white blocks of stone. The field was framed by more of the stones that created a low fence.

"Now you take those controls," Wigliff told Branwen, pointing to a wooden panel nearby. "I'll take these." On the panel was a simple vertical sliding switch that was currently centered. He pressed a button on his control panel, and said "Ready? I'll serve."

"You have GOT to be kidding me," Branwen breathed, then started laughing. She scrambled to take hold of her controls as the torches started to light up down below. As she moved her slider up and down, a series of three torches along the right hand side of the field moved up and down as well. Wigliff was controlling three torches on the left side of the field. When he pressed the button a second time, one of the torches near on his side of the field lit up, then extinguished as the one next to it lit up. The pattern continued until the lit torches reached Branwen's side where it "hit" her three torches, and ricocheted back to Wigliff's side.

"It's freakin' LED Pong!" Branwen gasped through her laughter.

"REDSTONE Pong," Wigliff corrected, scoring a goal against Branwen. A large number one lit up over Wigliff's side of the field.

"Game goes to 10 points," Wigliff told her.

"Loser buys the beer!" Branwen said, setting up her own serve.

"Works for me," Wigliff agreed.