“Believe it or not, there aren’t a lot of nameless things running around interacting with society,” Bob said. “I mean, it makes sense, right? If you’re in folklore, you get a name so that everyone can talk about you.”
“Sure,” I said. “Individual identity is something common to practically everyone.”
“Yep,” Bob said. “Outside of hive or maybe herd intelligences, individuality is kind of how things are arranged, which requires individual designations. So, there’s maybe a few dozen nameless entities running around folklore, and mostly nobody’s heard of most of them cause, well, they’re nameless and it’s kinda hard to talk about them. It’s just hell on PR.”
I snorted and got the old coffee maker going. Michael had secured that one for me as well, and it seemed to be mostly reliable. “Okay, so being all nameless, what kind of advantage is it going to give this guy?”
“What you can imagine,” Bob said. “You can’t use his Name against him cause he doesn’t have one. It would be extremely difficult to compel him magically in any way, to find him with divining spells, all of that kind of thing.”
“He’s magical Jason Bourne,” I said.
“I don’t know if he can fight with pens and rolled up magazines, but yes, that’s pretty close,” Bob said. “Now tell me about his hot assistant again?”
“Ms. Lapland,” I said. “She creeped me in a major way, also had a major sexual whammy going. Not quite Lara Raith bad, but bad enough.”
“Bad?” Bob said.
I rubbed at one eyebrow with my knuckles. “Look, she’s got a sexual thing going on, and she seemed to… hmmm. Arrogance seemed to get her going, in the potentially violent killer way. But at the same time, she was also completely subservient to Talvi.”
“Right, well,” Bob said, clearly disappointed that I hadn’t given measurements or snapshots, “given her name and the alias Talvi is choosing, Paranoid Gary and I—”
I blinked. “You’re giving someone else credit?”
The skull somehow gave the impression of a scowl. “Well, I have to admit this, the kid’s skull would make a fine backup, if you ever decide to make me a new apartment. He’s weird, but his mind is well-organized.”
“Bob, I’m not going to---nnnghf,” I sighed in exasperation. “I’m not going to behead someone and spend years enchanting his skull so that you can have a summer home.”
“Oh,” Bob said innocently. “No. Of course not. I’m just saying.”
The coffee began dripping and started smelling good. “Continue, please.”
“Paranoid Gary and I think that you’re dealing with a deity, or at least a demigod.”
“Jesus,” I said.
“No, this guy is Finnish, not Jewish,” Bob said seriously.
I decided to let it go. “Finnish? Who?”
“You know the goddess Loviatarm, right?”
“The Maiden of Pain?” I asked.
“That’s the old school Dungeons and Dragons version,” Bob said. “The real one was probably a hag that attained apotheosis.”
“Apotheosis?”
“Ascension to immortality and deific levels of power,” Bob supplied cheerfully. “Like Kemmler, but she did it a lot better and without encouraging any World Wars.”
“Okay,” I said thoughtfully, keeping an eye on the coffee pot. “How does this connect, Bob?”
“Well, she had a bunch of offspring,” Bob said. “Nine of them were called the nine diseases, and she sent them up against the Finnish wizard-hero, Vainamoinen.”