Part 4: The Magpie

Chapter 4: The Magpie

Last time, Diermot had just met Luthern the blacksmith (and his mother). Now he must find any information he can about Goewin, who has gone missing.


I can't help but notice that Luthern isn't actually making anything, he's just hitting his anvil with his hammer.

Since you haven't seen everywhere yet, let's head into the market place, which is just a skip and a jump from here.



THE MARKET PLACE. Two buildings face the open square; one is a shop with its wares displaced either side of the open door. The windows of the other are boarded up and it seems uninhabited.


That Skorl sure seems to be keeping a close eye on the uninhabited house. There must be something important in there.


Here comes Gwyn, she's always good for gossip. Maybe she knows about Goewin?




Gwyn: She nursed her poor father when not even his own potions could save him, and learned all he knew before the old man passed away.

Not particularly uselful, but pretty interesting all the same. Let's have a look through the shop window and see what's on offer.


The shopkeeper pulls faces at us through the window. What a free-spirited soul he is.


Here comes Gwyn to pick up some odds and ends.

Gwyn: Have you got anything for cockroaches, Ewan?



Gwyn: I want to get rid of them, not eat them!

Stranger: Just my little joke, Gwyn.


And so, Gwyn leaves the shop empty handed and offended. I like this shopkeeper. He seems like good people.

Let's go in and have a look around.



THE VILLAGE SHOP. The little shop is full of curios, not the least being the odd looking man behind the counter. Although the shelves hold many items on display there is a noticeable lack of foodstuff.

Let's introduce ourselves to the shopkeeper.

His face is dominated by a prominent, twisted nose which looks as if it has been broken at some time in the past.

Diermot: Greetings, stranger. What is your name?



It doesn't matter what we pick here, we won't be getting any mushrooms. So let's just say no.



Diermot: What do you know of Goewin?

Ewan: She's disappeared, probably off to join a convent I'd imagine.

That seems doubtful.

Remember that metal bar that Mallin gave us in chapter 2? Well, here is where we part with it. We were told Ewan would pay us for it, so let's see.



Ewan: Ah! Well done, young man. You deserve a reward for your troubles. Here, some pocket money and a fabulous, sparkling blue jewel on a delicate silver chain. Unfortunately it's paste, but it's as pretty as a parsnip!


Looks like Goewin has returned to do more shopping.



Ewan: Certainly, Gwyn. What culinary delights are you planning today?



Ewan: Shouldn't that be carrot cake?

Gwyn: Don't be silly, Ewan. I've always used cabbage. I'll bring you a slice when it's baked.



Let's check our status and see how rich we are.


8 groats! Not bad. It's actually possible to waste all your money and never be able to complete the game, but we won't let that happen.


Outside, a fat monk passes by. Let's try and talk to him.

His flabby face and bulbous neck suggest a gross and clumsy man, but his movements are controlled and precise. Above his ruddy cheeks his eyes twinkle as if in silent amusement at the world around him.


He ignored us! He didn't even say anything.


Another, thinner monk passes by and also ignores us.

He is tall and pale, with deepset, brooding eyes and thoughtful face. His mouth moves constantly and almost imperceptibly in a silent chant.

Maybe they've taken a vow of silence?

Anyway, let's move on.



BLACKFRIARS ROW. The road winds past an old building with plastered walls which are cracked with age. There is an air of stillness, and you feel as if you are being watched.

This is where those ignorant monks live. The come and go from this building but we can't go in and there's nothing else to do here so let's head to the Magpie.



MAGPIE COURTYARD. The cobbled square is dominated by the tavern and heavy with the smell of ale. Above the door hangs a weather-beaten sign.

And look, a poor homeless man sits against the well in the centre. Let's pump him for info, homless people always know everything in these stories.

The old man is slumped against the wall like a pile of dirty laundry. His beady eyes scan the courtyard.

Diermot: Greetings, stranger. What is your name?



Diermot: Are you mad?

Stranger: Seek the answers to these questions!

Diermot: What do you know of Goewin?


This guy wrote the book on mysterious (which obviously didn't seel very well or he wouldn't be in such dire straits now.)

Let's give him some money to help him on his way. To do this we select bribe from his command menu.



Diermot: Take this coin, you poor, unfortunate man. Buy yourself a meal.


He refuses to take our money, spouting enigmantic poetry at us.

Let's check the sign above the door before we hit the pub.

A faded painting of a magpie adorns the sign. From the bird's beak hangs a chain bearing a pale blue gem.

Intriguing, just like the gem Ewan gave us. In we go.


Before we can even take in the atmosphere, we are barged aside by that bloody Skorl patrolman. He makes a bee-line for the bar.

MAGPIE TAVERN. The tavern has not been cleaned since the revelry of the previous night, but the atmosphere is warm and welcoming.




Skorl: Magpie beer is good, not like the other inn.

Stranger: Well, old Gereint waters it down! And there's no atmosphere in the Severed Arms, not since he modernised it. There you are, handsome!


Ratpouch joins the queue.



Stranger: What! A child like you drinking beer!

Ratpouch: Come off it. I'm a man of the world, I am!

Stranger: Well, here's a shandy.



Our turn to talk to the landlady.

The woman is between thirty and forty, with a wide mouth and bright green eyes. She is strongly built, but moves with a seductive swagger.

Diermot: Greetings, stranger. What is your name?


A free drink! Things are looking up! Ratpouch gets back in line behind me and is followed by Gwyn. I'll get to talk to Nellie sooner or later.



Nellie: Do I now?

Ratpouch: Yes, she was a woman too.

Oh, Ratpouch. Ever the charmer. Gwyn is next.



Nellie: Could be better, Gwyn. The usual is it?

Gwyn: Just a port and lemon please, love.

Gwyn: Thanks, Nell.

Finally, our turn.


Nellie seems more welcoming than Gereint so let's just have a gossip.

Diermot: What do you know of Goewin?

Nellie: Funny you should ask that, sir. Only yesterday one of them Skorl were asking for her. He spoke to Morkus, then left.

I'll assume that chap sitting at the table there is Morkus. For now though, let's play a hunch and give this blue gem to Nellie.



Nellie: Oh, sir! It's the fabulous Turnvale Jewel!

Diermot: I'm afraid not. It's just a cheap copy, made of paste.


Gwyn joins the line again! Does she have nothing to do but spend money all day?

Nellie: I've got a present for you too. It will keep you warm at night and remind you of me!

She gives you a dusty flask made of old, dimpled green glass.



Nellie: No, love. I thought she'd gone away?

Gwyn: No, she's up at the Severed Arms - flaunting herself as usual. I think she's got her eye on that barbarian, the one you banned last night.



So, Ultar was banned from the Magpie. I wonder why?


Poor Ratpouch gets genders confused sometimes.


The Skorl returns. I like how he cleverly worked the bar into his patrol route.

Nellie: Right away, me dear.

Skorl: Where is the crazy barbarian?

Nellie: He's probably gone to the Severed Arms. I banned him after the trouble he caused last night.


Sounds like Ultar had quite a wild night last night. Sorry we missed it. Let's talk to the guy at the table.

His bloated face is unshaven, and his lank, greasy hair is matted with filth. Even more repellent are his bulging eyes, red with drink and debauchery.

Diermot: Greetings, stranger. What is your name?



Diermot: What do you know of Goewin?

Morkus: It's information you want, is it? How am I to know you're not a slimy spy, sent by Selena?[/i]

Diermot: You have my word as a man of honour!

Morkus: Do me a favour! What's that worth to me, peasant?

I see what this is gonna take.



Diermot: Here, buy yourself another drink.

Morkus: Little danger of getting drunk on one groat, but I'll gladly take your money, stranger.

Diermot: What do you know of Goewin?



You wonder if the unpleasant man has told the truth; if he has then somehow the girl must be rescued from her evil captors.

Diermot: Do you know anything more about Goewin?

Morkus: I told you, the Skorl have got her! Now leave me alone! I just want to get drunk. More stout, Nell!

Nellie: You ain't paid for the last six yet!

So, now we have useful information. This is starting to smell like progress.


...and progress!

Let's drink to progress!

You take a small sip from the flask. The liquid makes your lips tingle, your tongue curl, and your stomach heave; a warning spasm reminds you of the peril of eating overripe plums in the castle orchards.

Then, just as you are about to reach for a bucket, the orchestra begins to play a merry waltz. Wagging your tail, you curtsy to the Queen of the Lobsters. She laughs aloud with glee. What joy! Look, mother, even the maggots are dancing!

When your senses return you gaxe at the flask and realise that it is still full, but you cannot bring yourself to sample the potent liquor again.

Wow! That's strong stuff. Maybe Ratpouch would like some.



Ratpouch: If I drank that stuff I'd not be responsible for my actions, sir.

Diermot: No one would notice, Ratty!

Ratpouch: Besides, I've realised that a peasant in my position has a moral obligation to set an example to his inferiors.

Diermot: What inferiors?



Next time, we join the half-arsed rebellion against Selena and take steps towards freeing Goewin!